The Amish Christmas Gift

by Laura V. Hilton

  There was already a vehicle in the other lane. It swerved and lost control.

  There was a brief moment before the Jeep hit the other car.

  Then a hard shove as the semi rammed into the back of the Jeep.

  The world went black.

  Chapter 26

  Something was wrong. Levi could feel it. Sense it. He could almost taste it. His thoughts were fixated on Elsie as the wind picked up and the falling snow turned into another blizzard. He tried to focus on the toy trains, but while he worked on making a new lioness to replace the one he’d given to George, his mind was a jumble. He wanted to fix the Elsie problem, not pretend to feel creative. He missed her.

  Noah coaxed the puppy outdoors to take care of business while Abigail set pretzel dough near the woodstove to rise. Normally, that would set Levi’s mouth to watering.

  This time it didn’t.

  Abigail hadn’t finished the cleaning she’d asked Elsie to do, though he assumed it would be next on her to-do list. She wouldn’t save it for Elsie even though she was convinced Elsie would return.

  Especially since Noah seemed to have that verse on repeat. “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” He quoted it what seemed like every five minutes.

  Bishop Nathan was strangely silent, his attention seemingly fixed on the part of the train he was working on. But he got his cell phone out of his pocket and set it on the table where he’d notice if it lit up, as if he were expecting a phone call. And he might well have been.

  Levi was tempted to do the same. But did Elsie even have his phone number anymore? She did have Noah’s, though, so if she wanted to reach him, she could.

  Abigail went to the back part of the house and returned minutes later with Elsie’s purse. Abigail opened it and took out Elsie’s cell phone. Abigail laid it on the table. “Elsie left it.”

  Levi stared at it numbly. Unless Sam or someone else let Elsie borrow a phone, and she used it to call him, there’d be no contact.

  Noah came in with the puppy. He held up his phone. “There’s been an accident just on the interstate. A police officer called on Sam’s phone to the last call received. They are taking them to the nearest hospital in—”

  Levi put his whittling knife on the table and stood. “I’m going.” The hero racing to the heroine’s side, just like in one of Abigail’s romance books.

  The bishop gave him a look. “Of course you are. You and every other Amish person brave enough to navigate a blizzard. It wouldn’t be a hospital stay without an Amish field trip to visit the victims.” He quirked a quick—and fleeting—grin. “Of course, you’re the only one with a romantic interest in one of them.”

  “With plans to marry her in the not-so-distant future,” Levi amended with an equally pointed look at the bishop, since he hadn’t exactly asked permission yet. The declaration was followed with resolve and a prayer for her healing and safety. But even so, he’d take care of her no matter what injuries she’d sustained, just to have her in his life.

  “I’ll call for a driver,” the bishop said.

  Noah pushed a button on his phone. “I’ll activate the Amish grapevine.”

  * * *

  Elsie reclined on the hospital bed in the room she was taken to. The doctor made the decision to admit her for observation since she was unconscious when the ambulance arrived. Other than a few cuts from shattered glass and a stiff neck, she felt fine. But the doctor said she was a living miracle.

  A mix of emotions filled her. Relief that Gott had saved her warred with fear and worry for her brother and nephew. The nurses she’d asked about them either didn’t know anything or refused to tell her.

  Down the hall, someone bellowed. George. Elsie smiled. Some normality in the situation.

  Someone tapped on the open door, and she carefully turned her head toward the sound.

  Levi approached, his hands behind his back. As he neared, he pulled one hand out, revealing a bouquet of red roses. “For you,” he said. “I’m so sorry, Elsie. I never meant to make you go away—”

  She barked a short laugh. But oh, she was ever so glad to see him. “You fired me!”

  He frowned as he pulled up a chair and sat. “I don’t think I did; I didn’t mean to anyway. I’m sorry. I want to keep you as my elf and—”

  “I didn’t want to go with Sam, but he said…I mean, I thought…” Though Levi had never actually said that she was fired. She’d jumped to conclusions again.

  “Elsie, I—”

  “I saw that boy, Bishop!” George bellowed from somewhere down the hall. “Is that redhead here?”

  Forget this. They could go on all day talking about their mistakes. The point was the lessons were learned. Elsie slowly and painfully slid out of the hospital bed and sat on Levi’s lap.

  He caught his breath, his hands automatically going to the curve of her hips to steady her and draw her nearer. “Elle, please forg—”

  She snuggled closer, turning her head into his neck and kissing him the way he did that last time. “I forgive you. I love you. I’m sorry for my mistakes, too.” She found his pounding pulse with her lips.

  He groaned. His hands found her waist. “Elle…”

  She trailed kisses up his neck, the strong curve of his jaw, and teased the corner of his lips.

  He groaned again. Pulled her tight against him, caught her chin, and brushed his lips over hers.

  Brushed! That was so not good enough. She twisted in his arms, caught his head in her hands, and took control, kissing him with every molecule of pent-up desire she had in her.

  He moaned deep in his throat. “Elle, if you don’t stop, this isn’t going to be G-rated.”

  She squirmed, kissed him again. “Marry me.”

  The breath left him in a whoosh. “I think”—kiss—“that was supposed”—kiss, kiss—“to be my line…”

  His hands slid up just a smidgen. She tangled her fingers in his hair, arching against him, a whimper escaping.

  “Yes,” he might have growled. “I’ll…marry…you.”

  “I think marriage is a good idea,” the bishop said from somewhere right behind her.

  * * *

  Levi froze.

  Elsie launched herself off his lap so fast she tumbled awkwardly onto the bed. Good thing she was fully clothed and not in a hospital gown.

  She buried her face in her hands. Shaking. He wasn’t sure if she was laughing or crying.

  He looked over his shoulder at the bishop, who was halfway into the room. The man smiled indulgently and was probably semiproud of the fact that he had only given them five minutes instead of the ten he’d promised earlier. But oh, they’d made the most of that time.

  Levi’s cheeks burned.

  “Since she proposed and you accepted…” The bishop paused a beat. “We’ll start marriage counseling tomorrow. And as for the wedding, I have next Thursday free.”

  Chapter 27

  Elsie’s embarrassed laughter died. She peeked through her fingers at the bishop, who stared semisternly at Levi.

  “George wasn’t kidding when he warned me about you two.” The bishop had a twinkle in his eyes.

  Levi muttered something that might have been “Sorry.” Except Elsie wasn’t sorry at all. They’d worked things out.

  “I hope you talked—uh, communicated verbally—before it got physical.”

  Her cheeks burned. At least they weren’t in the bedroom—oh, wait. They were. The hospital “bedroom.”

  “We did—Wait. Thursday? This Thursday? As in before Christmas Thursday?” Panic filled Levi’s voice.

  Come to think of it, she started to panic a bit, too, at the thought of a dress and the other things that go into a wedding and how her family didn’t have the money to feed that big of a crowd on such short notice.

  “Is that a problem?” Both of Bishop Nathan’s eyebrows shot up.

  “No. I mean, jah. I mean, the impossible deadline, which will be even more impossible if I h
ave to stop work and get married.”

  Elsie recalled the bare pantry at his house just a week ago. He did need every hour to work. And Amish weddings took forever. Sure, he loved her. But he couldn’t afford to miss a complete day of work unless he wanted to offend and lose a well-paying customer.

  “Have to? Which is more important? Elsie or the deadline?”

  “Elsie,” Levi said. He glanced at her and smiled.

  “The deadline,” Elsie choked out. “He needs the money for Abigail.”

  Bishop Nathan fixed his gaze on Levi, ignoring her. “Right. And since I know the quality of your work, and since you have made yourself available to others such as Luke for a pittance, and since you have been so kind to George and gave him the carved cat, I’ve taken the liberty of talking to Elsie’s daed in the waiting room. After the blizzard, the men of the community will gather at your home for a work frolic. With your permission, we’ll have an assembly line process, and if all goes as planned, your circus trains will be done, or mostly done, that evening.”

  Daed and the other men would help?

  She had nothing to worry about. Trust Gott. If He had the circus trains, He could handle a wedding.

  Chapter 28

  Monday morning, after the blizzard ended, men who were able to came on foot and by horse and buggy. The community outpouring of love and compassion rocked Levi to his core, both at the hospital the previous evening and day and that morning. Abigail had thrived on the attention she received. She had insisted she be able to go visit Elsie, and Levi had allowed Noah to assist her in and out of the van that’d come to take them to the hospital Saturday evening.

  Elsie arrived a couple of hours later with her daed and two grossdaadis bringing good news. Sammy had been discharged—with minor cuts—to his daadi’s care. Sam was still alive, in intensive care due to internal injuries. No word on Ryan, but Levi didn’t know him. He was Sam’s friend.

  Elsie helped Abigail prepare sandwiches, pretzels, and plenty of cookies to keep the men well-fed.

  The coffee flowed while the bishop preached a minisermon on the verse Noah had quoted about two being better than one. And looking around the room at the men working, talking, and laughing made Levi realize it was true. He would’ve been so much wiser and stronger if he hadn’t shut others out. He’d denied himself—and Abigail—the blessing of having friends, advice, and support. And he’d denied others the opportunity to be blessed by giving of their time, skills, and wisdom.

  When Levi paused work for a short break to stretch his legs, he glanced outside at Abigail and Elsie putting the final touches on a family of snowmen. Four of them, maybe to represent the families they would become. Hopefully. Levi and Elsie and Abigail and Noah.

  By the time evening fell, the trains and animals were finished, except for letting the paint dry, in time for them to be delivered—early—the next day. They also had the online orders completed and ready to be shipped.

  By Gott’s grace they’d met Levi’s impossible deadline, and he learned that it was okay to lean on others.

  The next day, Bishop Nathan gave Elsie and Levi a comprehensive marriage counseling based on 1 Corinthians 13.

  * * *

  Thursday morning Elsie sat on a bench sneaking peeks at Levi during the looong wedding sermon. Abigail sat in her wheelchair beside her, probably daydreaming of her own someday wedding.

  Sam was somewhere in the crowd in his own temporary wheelchair while he recovered from the accident.

  Finally the bishop made the man-and-wife pronouncement while George—who hadn’t broken any bones—wildly rang sleigh bells and shouted something about being a matchmaker, much to the amusement of the entire community and the embarrassment of his wife.

  And then after the long day filled with meals, family, friends, and conversation, Elsie and Levi were—at last—alone. They’d arranged for Abigail to spend the night at Elsie’s house.

  Levi pulled out a wrapped gift. “I started this two years ago, but I can’t think of a better wedding gift.” With a grin, he handed her the red-and-white package and sat on the bed, covered with her hope chest quilt, watching as she opened it.

  Her fingers fumbled a bit with the tape. She removed the paper to reveal a hand-carved recipe box. “Oh, it’s beautiful.” Elsie opened it, and inside was an envelope of recipes. She recognized the handwriting and looked up with a pounding heart. “Your mamm’s? These were her prized recipes only shared with family?”

  He nodded with heat in his eyes. Tears pricked hers.

  “Danki. I couldn’t think of a better gift. I was afraid these got lost in the explosion.” She thumbed through them.

  “They did, but she had copied them out as a wedding gift before, when we were getting serious.” Levi’s gaze was filled with something that made her want to snuggle him on the bed.

  She put the recipe box down on the dresser and sat beside him. “I’ll treasure them always, but they pale in comparison to the gift I’ve waited for. You.”

  A grin tilted his mouth. “You’re the only gift I really wanted.”

  She giggled as she slid a bit closer. “Santa knew exactly what I wanted this Christmas.”

  He chuckled and pulled her into his lap. “And me. An elf.”

  And then he kissed her.

  RECIPES

  Amish Baked Oatmeal

  This recipe was my Amish grandmother’s. She never measured, using a pinch of this and a pinch of that, so I played with it to get approximate measurements. It tastes like an oatmeal cookie. It stores well in the refrigerator and can be reheated in the microwave and served with milk. This has to sit overnight, so plan accordingly. It is well worth the wait, however!

  Serves 6

  ⅓ cup butter

  2 large eggs

  ¾ cup brown sugar

  1½ teaspoons baking powder

  1½ teaspoons vanilla

  1 teaspoon nutmeg or 1 teaspoon cinnamon

  ¼ teaspoon salt

  1 cup plus 2 Tablespoons milk

  3 cups oatmeal (regular or quick)

  Grease 1½-quart baking dish and drop in eggs and beat well.

  Add brown sugar, baking powder, vanilla, nutmeg or cinnamon, and salt. Mix well until there are no lumps.

  Whisk in butter and both measures of milk, then add oats.

  Stir well and refrigerate overnight.

  Preheat oven to 350°F.

  Bake, uncovered, for 35–45 minutes, or until set in the middle.

  Serve hot with warm milk poured over it.

  I like to sprinkle this with walnuts and fruit—usually bananas, but other fruit works well, too.

  Saltwater Taffy

  Saltwater taffy is a candy and an upper-body workout all in one. To give it its light but chewy texture, you’ll be pulling it, and pulling it, and pulling it for up to 15 minutes. Still want to make it? One of my sons and my three daughters all took a day to make some. They had a blast! Here’s a recipe.

  Makes about 50 1-inch pieces

  2 cups sugar

  3 Tablespoons cornstarch

  1 cup light corn syrup

  ¾ cup water

  2 Tablespoons butter

  1 teaspoon salt

  ¼ to 1 teaspoon flavoring of choice (i.e., vanilla, lemon, maple, mint, etc.)

  3 drops food coloring

  Mix together sugar and cornstarch in a saucepan.

  Use a wooden spoon to stir in the corn syrup, water, butter, and salt. Place the saucepan over medium heat and stir until the sugar dissolves.

  Continue stirring until mixture begins to boil, then let cook, undisturbed, until it reaches about 270°F, or the soft-crack stage. Wash down the sides of the pan with a pastry brush dipped in warm water while the syrup cooks.

  Remove the saucepan from the heat and add food coloring and flavoring. Stir gently, then pour onto a greased marble slab or into a shallow greased cookie sheet to cool.

  When the taffy is cool enough to handle, grease your hands with oil or butter
and pull the taffy until it’s light in color and has a satiny gloss. You can have a friend help with this step, which should take about 10 to 15 minutes.

  Roll the pulled taffy into a long rope, about half an inch in diameter, and cut it with greased scissors or a butter knife into 1-inch-long pieces. Let the pieces sit for at least a half an hour before wrapping them in wax paper or plastic wrap and twisting the ends of the wrapper.

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks to Marilyn Ridgway for information about the Amish in Arthur, Illinois, buggy snapshots taken with her cell phone, and answering questions. I’ve been there a zillion times, but you were an excellent resource.

  Thanks to Jenna, Candee, Lynne, Linda, Heidi, Marie, Christy, Kathy, Julie, and Marilyn for your parts in critiques, advice, and/or brainstorming. Also to my street team for promoting and brainstorming. Candee, this story would not be what it is without you.

  Thanks to Jenna for taking on the bulk of the cooking while I was on deadline.

  Thanks to Hachette Book Group (Forever) for taking a chance on me and to Tamela Hancock Murray for representing me.

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Laura V. Hilton is an award-winning author of more than twenty Amish, contemporary, and historical romances. When she’s not writing, she reviews books for her blogs and writes devotionals for the Seriously Write blog.

  Laura and her pastor-husband have five children and a hyper dog named Skye. They currently live in Arkansas. Laura enjoys reading and visiting lighthouses and waterfalls. Her favorite season is winter, and her favorite holiday is Christmas.