The Amish Christmas Gift

by Laura V. Hilton

  And he found a fragment of peace that maybe, somehow, it would all work out and he would find forgiveness.

  He wiped his face dry with a rag that smelled of varnish, then rose to his feet and focused on collecting paints, brushes, toys, and whittling tools for the animals. And glue and clamps and assorted pieces still to be assembled. As well as focusing on trying to gather himself together.

  Noah reappeared, and though he gave Levi a long, assessing look, he didn’t say a thing. They worked in silence as they loaded the box. Levi turned off the heaters and lights, and they tugged their outerwear on. After closing the barn, they trudged through the still-gusting blizzard and at least another foot of snow. Levi pulled the sled while Noah pushed. At least the snow provided traction, even though it was deeper than his boots and freezing his feet. Not to mention blowing into his unprotected collar. He needed a new scarf for Christmas. Maybe Abigail would make him one.

  He couldn’t wait to get inside and see Elsie again. How had the girls fared with George all morning? At least they kept him inside…

  Maybe.

  Or maybe not.

  Levi stumbled to a stop when he neared the porch. The formerly neatly stacked woodpile was strewn all over, spilling into the yard. The church’s benches were shoved over.

  He glanced at Noah. “From the storm? Doesn’t seem possible.” Or had George done it, trying to be helpful?

  Noah shrugged. Frowned. Whatever he said was caught by the howling wind and blown away.

  They abandoned the sled in a semiprotected area on the side of the house, hoisted the box between them, and hurried around the corner to the back steps.

  * * *

  Despite the man wrecking the Wyses’ living room, Elsie was terrified to take her focus from George—who now dangled by his fingers from the edge of the loft floor, having completely missed the ladder steps when he started to come down moments ago.

  He might have been awakened by the Abominable Snow Monster’s shouted tirade or maybe he’d simply sensed Elsie leaving the loft, since he bellowed something about staying out of that boy’s arms.

  “I’ll sue you for everything you own for putting a mailbox and a drainage ditch so close to the road!” Abominable Snow Monster threatened, waving a shaking fist as she glanced over her shoulder. “That caused my accident, you…” He ended it with a string of foul words that made Elsie’s face burn.

  Never mind that the stranger’s eyes were glazed over from driving under the influence of something—she had no idea what—during a blizzard with whiteout conditions.

  “Help me! I’m going to die!” George shouted. His fingers slipped a degree.

  “Hang on, George!” Elsie shouted, but it might as well have been quieter than a whisper for all the good it did. And she didn’t know how to help either George or the snow monster.

  “I’m going to fall and break every bone in my body,” George bellowed.

  Jah, he probably would.

  Something crashed and Elsie jerked around. The kerosene lantern lay shattered next to the puppy, who left a puddle behind as she tucked her tail and ran.

  The Abominable Snow Monster threw another kerosene lantern along with another string of bad words.

  Abigail, dear sweet Abigail, screamed, “Stop!” crying at the same time, her hands shaking.

  “HELP!” George shouted again. Sound barriers might have been broken.

  Elsie was a serious failure as an elf. And this whole situation was totally out of sync with her upbringing as an Amish girl. What part of this was peaceful?

  A door slammed open with an arctic blast.

  What now? Elsie turned her head long enough to see Levi and Noah enter the fray from the mudroom entrance. They carried a box—and dropped it by the kitchen door.

  “I’m going to fall!” George screamed.

  “Scoot over, Elle.” Levi crossed through the open rooms with giant steps, shoved past her, and climbed up the ladder steps to physically guide George’s feet.

  Why hadn’t she thought of that?

  “Abby, go to your room and shut the door.” Noah’s voice almost sounded like Daed’s and she glanced over to see him standing between Abigail and the stranger.

  Abigail firmed her jaw, and sat there. But her eyes were wide and filled with fear. Apparently, it was an order she had no intention of following. Either that or she was too scared to move. Elsie understood that. She was terrified, too.

  “Elsie, take Abigail to safety,” Noah demanded.

  Elsie twisted her hands in her apron. She tried to obey, really, but her legs wouldn’t move.

  Noah turned to the invader. “Sir, we can talk this out. Let’s calm down a little.”

  The stranger took a swing at Noah, missed, then with a terrible scream rammed his head into Noah’s stomach, knocking him backward. He fell on his behind, sliding backward on the broken glass and kerosene.

  George’s feet landed on the floor—due to Levi’s help.

  He grabbed his walking stick…

  And went to war.

  Chapter 20

  Levi had heard rumors that George was going crazy, but he wasn’t convinced it was true. How much of his strange behavior was an on-purpose, free-to-be-me bravado, especially given the “selective” hearing with or without lip-reading? Because even crazy people generally knew not to pick a fight with a mean drunk sixty years younger while armed with only a walking stick.

  He looked beyond George to where Elsie stood stock-still next to the loft ladder steps, eyes wide and her hand plastered across her mouth, as if physically holding in a scream.

  Levi wanted to grab her and make her go to safety. Elle and Abig—

  Something crashed. He jerked his head to the side to look. The drunk bumped into the end table and it wobbled. Tipped.

  The stranger grabbed Levi’s last surviving kerosene lamp from the collapsing table and bashed it against George’s hard head as the table crashed.

  “Stop! You’re going to kill him!” Abigail shrieked, somehow crying at the same time.

  Levi glanced at George. He wanted to grab the old man and stop this madness, but he had a feeling it’d be detrimental if he did. He wasn’t going to hold George back to be killed, and he wasn’t sure he could grab hold of the invader—who looked vaguely familiar. But he had to try. Despite being armed with his flailing walking stick, George wasn’t winning the battle and Noah seemed distracted by something in his hand. Levi angled himself around the two men, trying to get behind the Englisch man. Gott, if You’re up there somewhere listening, help. I promise I’ll confess to the bishop if You—

  “Elsie! Take Abby to her room now!” Soft-spoken Noah roared. He scrambled to his feet, tossed something at Elsie, and crouched, eyeing the two men.

  Elsie caught whatever it was, glanced at it, then dropped it into her apron pocket and nodded. Oh, she was crying! Levi’s heart broke. She hurried over to the wheelchair, swung it around, and ran. A door slammed.

  The Englischer circled around in front of Levi in order to get at George, and Levi tackled the man from behind just as Noah grabbed George, almost throwing him out of the way.

  George fell with a bellow and a scream and the stranger landed on top of Noah, Levi on both.

  Noah oofed as the breath was knocked out of him.

  Now what?

  Years of wrestling in the barn with other boys never prepared him for what to do when he pinned a stranger. But the man was holding still. Too still.

  Levi hesitantly straightened. Sat. The man didn’t move.

  Neither did George, who was sprawled next to the fallen end table. Except, he still screamed. Cried. Maybe both.

  “I called for help,” Elsie said quietly, appearing unexpectedly in Levi’s line of sight. She bent, picking up the puppy. Her voice broke. “She wanted the puppy safe, too. I’ll be right back after I give it to her.” She turned away.

  “No, stay back there.” Levi wanted her out of harm’s way.

  But if Elsie heard, sh
e ignored him.

  “Let me up.” Noah gasped.

  Levi stood.

  The unknown man didn’t even wiggle. He was face down on Noah’s shoulder. His snow-covered cowboy hat had fallen off at some point and he had a bloody handprint on his filthy tan coat.

  “Did I kill him?” Levi hated the fear that gripped him. Please, Lord, no.

  Noah pushed the invader off of him with his bloody hands. “No. He’s still breathing.”

  Whew. Danki, Lord.

  Noah sat, then winced as he wiped the blood on his pants. “Do you have anything to secure him?”

  “Gardening twine.” Levi grimaced. “Not sure how well it’ll hold.”

  “I’ll get it,” Elsie said from the hallway. He looked up as she veered into the kitchen.

  “I’m dying!” George bellowed, grasping at his chest. “My heart!”

  “You check on George. I’ll keep an eye on this guy,” Noah said.

  Levi limped over to George, the bruises on his legs from the walking stick probably aggravated by tackling the stranger and falling on him. Not exactly a soft landing, and compounded by those stiff cowboy boots the man wore…Noah was bound to feel even worse, having already landed on his rear on broken glass and then having two men fall on top of him.

  Wait. Levi turned back and studied the man now that he was still. Could it be that wannabe cowboy who’d been hitting on Elsie in town on Monday? It was long enough ago that Levi wasn’t sure, but he did look familiar.

  He turned back to George just as the old man feebly waved the walking stick. Not hard enough to hurt if he connected, but thankfully he didn’t, because Levi had enough bruises for one day.

  “That man tried to kill me,” George complained. “My heart is pounding!”

  So, not a heart attack. Just excitement. And adrenaline. The same rush of sensation Levi currently felt that had started the moment he burst in the door and saw the lunatic throwing lanterns and cursing with his sister and Elsie just feet away.

  Jah. Levi’s pulse throbbed, too. “He probably was afraid you’d kill him.” He lowered himself beside George and faced him.

  “I wouldn’t hurt a fly.” There might have been a glint in George’s eyes.

  Levi disagreed, but then he had the bruises to prove it. He caught movement from the corner of his eye and glanced that way.

  Elsie reappeared with brown garden twine and gave it to Noah. She handed an aspirin bottle to Levi. “For George’s heart. Chew it, George. I suppose I need to get busy cleaning up.”

  Noah held up a hand. “Not until the police come.”

  “You called the police?” A surge of panic worked through Levi. Would the police recognize him as the same man who’d killed his family? Would they arrest him this time? He glanced at the still-motionless cowboy and started praying the man didn’t die or have permanent injuries like Abigail did.

  “Noah told me to. And an ambulance. And the bishop.” Elsie looked at him.

  This was going from bad to worse. “Noah told you…Wait. What? When?” His voice was strangled. But he knew when. That thing Noah tossed at her was a cell phone. Had to have been.

  Elsie’s gaze was sympathetic. Did she sense his fear? “It’s okay, Levi. They need to know. He”—she pointed at the stranger—“said he hit your mailbox and his car ended up in the ditch.”

  “And for that he destroyed your property? Tried to kill George?” Noah sounded incredulous. He knotted yet another string around the man’s hands behind his back and down to his ankles so he couldn’t get up or move should he regain consciousness.

  A dented mailbox and broken household furnishings were a small price to pay for Levi’s continued freedom. But if the police came and he was arrested…Abigail. Who would take care of her?

  He tried to tamp the panic down.

  He promised he’d confess. Gott was holding him to it.

  Lord, help.

  * * *

  Elsie didn’t know what to do. Cleaning something seemed obvious, but Noah told her to wait. She didn’t want to be hidden back in the bedroom, even though making sure Abigail stayed calm was important, too. But Abigail had the dog to comfort her and Elsie needed firsthand knowledge.

  Maybe she should bake more Christmas cookies. They’d eaten all the earlier treats at the taffy pull. EMTs and police would need to be served coffee and cookies, right?

  “You trying to poison me?” George shouted. He made spitting noises.

  Huh? Elsie looked at him. Oh. The aspirin.

  “Now, George, Elle said you need to take it for your heart.” Levi somehow stayed calm.

  “Heart attack,” George corrected. “It’s pounding.”

  “Right,” Levi agreed. “Heart attack.”

  Elsie was pretty sure it was just excitement causing George’s heart to race. Hers was, too. But she poured a glass of water and gave it to Levi so he could help George.

  Levi drank it. “Danki.” But he looked confused. And scared.

  Elsie swatted at his shoulder, then took the glass to refill it. “The water was for George.”

  “Oh. Sure,” Levi muttered. “Of course it was.” But his face was pasty white.

  The stranger groaned but didn’t wake. Elsie glanced at him then back at Levi. “Are you okay?”

  He shook his head and opened his mouth as a loud vehicle rumbled into the driveway.

  A door slammed. “First responder,” someone yelled, but she barely heard him above the howling wind.

  She patted Levi’s shoulder, then moved to open the door.

  She and Levi really needed to talk.

  Sooner rather than later.

  * * *

  Levi pressed a hand against his roiling stomach. Hopefully, he wouldn’t embarrass himself by getting physically sick.

  “I’m having a heart attack!” George yelled as a man carrying a big black bag entered the house. “That boy tried to kill me!”

  The man’s gaze skittered over the scene. Levi scooted out of the way so the man could help George as the first responder neared. He wished he could hide in the bedroom until after the drama ended. While he was prepared—not exactly—to confess to the bishop and maybe even Elle, he was nowhere near ready to be dragged off in handcuffs. The shame consumed him.

  The first responder stopped by the fallen invader. He knelt, apparently deciding George’s heart attack was not an actual heart attack.

  “It’s that redhead’s fault, you know. She let him in. They’re probably in cahoots!” George loudly volunteered.

  Levi’s gaze shot to Elsie. She still stood in the entryway even though the door was shut. She’d been staring out the window but turned at George’s words.

  “I did,” she said, glancing at Levi, then away and down. “But I didn’t know he was there. I heard the woodpile fall over and opened the door. To see what happened. I didn’t know—” She swiped at something under her eye and sniffled. “I’m sorry.” She gave Levi a look that broke his heart. Pain. Guilt.

  He stumbled to his feet and crossed the room. Tugged her into his arms. “It’s okay, Elle. All’s well that ends well.” Except, he didn’t know how this would end. Maybe this memory right here of holding her in his arms would have to be enough for a lifetime.

  “She tried to kill me so she could be in that boy’s arms. Hired an assassin! And look at her. Can’t even wait for me to die,” George shouted.

  Someone snorted, but Levi didn’t turn to see who. Instead, new vehicles arrived with snow chains and flashing red-and-blue lights that dimly lit the blizzard-colored world outside, catching his attention. It reminded him of the gas explosion almost two years prior and the aftermath. The bile rushed up his throat.

  Chapter 21

  Elsie swayed when Levi jerked out of her arms. He turned and almost sprinted down the hall, slamming the door to the bathroom. The poor man. He probably wasn’t used to so much excitement, with both an invader and George’s drama. She started to move toward the kitchen, needing to do something, even
if it was to bake Christmas cookies or fix dinner. As if on cue, her stomach rumbled. She probably needed to fix coffee in addition to food. Lots of coffee. She glanced toward the wall clock, but something flashed outside, drawing her attention.

  The police were there, two vehicles. One was parked out by the mailbox, probably where the guy’s car went into the ditch. The other one pulled to a stop in front of the porch next to the first responder’s diesel truck. This scene probably reminded Levi of the tragic night most of his family died. Elsie opened the door as an officer exited the vehicle, one hand resting casually on his gun holster.

  “You called about a domestic dispute,” the officer said, scanning the mess on and around the porch that the stranger had made before his impassive stare landed on Elsie.

  Apparently, the message she’d given the 911 operator wasn’t very clear if the police thought there was a domestic disturbance. “Um, I called because the stranger hit the mailbox, landed in the ditch, and then went berserk and tried to kill George. My brother and, um, boyfr— Levi managed to subdue him. He’s tied up inside.”

  The officer pulled a notebook and pen out of his chest pocket. He frowned. “Your brother and boyfriend tried to kill George?”

  “No, the stranger,” Elsie corrected. “And he’s not my boyfriend. Not anymore, but—”

  The officer wrote something down. “George tried to kill your ex-boyfriend.”

  That was probably a little closer but still very wrong. “He’s unconscious and tied up with gardening twine.” She shivered, teeth chattering, both from the bitter cold and the adrenaline crashing now that help had arrived.

  The officer’s eyebrows rose. “George or the ex-boyfriend?”

  This was going from bad to worse. Not to mention cold and snow blew into the house. Elsie stepped backward. “Come in, please. The first responder is here, trying to take care of him. I hope he doesn’t die.”

  The officer opened his mouth and shut it. He pocketed the notepad and pen and returned his hand to his holster as he climbed the stairs to the porch.