Usually, dry beans needed to be soaked overnight, but one could quick soak them for an hour or so after the water boils. Elsie set the pot full of beans on the woodstove to boil, and then chopped celery, carrots, onions, and ham to add later. The soup would mostly stay on the woodstove to cook all day, but George would have to be satisfied with whatever Abigail wanted to fix for the noon meal.
As soon as Levi and Noah left for the barn, Abigail disappeared, frowning and mumbling something about making beds—even though Elsie had already made one. Elsie cleaned up the kitchen from breakfast while George prowled and paced, muttering under his breath while eyeing the blizzard outside. The barn had disappeared in a sheet of white.
Realizing Abigail hadn’t returned, Elsie went to check on Abigail and found her sound asleep on the bed. That ought to help improve her mood, providing George let her sleep. Elsie yawned, tempted to take a nap, too. But that would leave George unsupervised, and there were so many ways he could get into mischief.
Speaking of George, she should check on his elderly wife, Mildred. George wouldn’t be able to talk with her, but Elsie could make sure she was safe and assure her that George was, too. They had to miss each other, being apart overnight after so many years of marriage.
Elsie grabbed her purse from the top of Abigail’s dresser, quietly stepped out and shut the bedroom door, and while George continued pacing and muttering, she went up the ladder steps to Levi’s loft office to work. She pulled her cell phone from the bottom of her purse and scrolled through her contacts for George’s number.
Mildred cleared her voice twice after picking up the phone. “Hello, George’s Buggy Repair, Mildred speaking.” Despite clearing her throat, her voice still sounded a bit rusty from disuse.
“Mildred, this is Elsie Miller. George was chaperoning us youngies at the taffy pull last night as you know and he got iced in—”
“Oh, you just keep him as long as you need to, Elsie. Tell him his cats are fine and that I have plenty of bean soup prepared. Of course, there will remain plenty of soup because I won’t touch it when he isn’t here, but don’t mention that part.”
Elsie snorted. It must be awful to be forced to eat bean soup for every meal except breakfast. “I sure won’t say a word—”
“Good. I’m feasting on a hamburger and French fries right now, but don’t tell him that either or I’ll get a lecture on the many benefits of a bean soup diet.” Mildred cackled.
“We had that discussion last night.” Elsie caught movement in her peripheral vision and she looked toward the loft ladder. George’s head and shoulders appeared. She sighed. “I need to go, but I didn’t want you to worry.”
Though maybe she should be concerned about the elderly man climbing ladders…
“Oh, I’m not worried a bit. Keep him as long as you can. I’m overdue for a vacation. Bye now.” And the phone beeped.
Okay, then. Elsie could understand how the woman might feel, and she’d only had to endure George’s quirks for a few hours instead of years. She dropped the phone back into her purse and went to help George if he needed it. He wobbled slightly on the top step but made it into the loft without assistance.
“Give me a minute to catch my breath,” George huffed, bending over.
Of course, getting him down might be another story, but at least he was leaving Abigail alone to rest. And maybe Abigail would return the favor later and let Elsie take a nap.
Although, George letting Abigail rest might have more to do with George’s distrust of Elsie and Levi than kindness for Abigail. In which case, George would be standing sentry outside the bedroom door if Elsie did attempt to nap.
Not a bad thing with Levi’s unexpected “friendliness” and friskiness. Elsie liked it but wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. What was going through Levi’s mind—and how would he define their relationship? He’d said that he still loved her. Did that mean he was implying they were back together as a dating couple? Or were they unofficially almost-engaged again? Or did it simply mean that he was a man and his basic caveman tendencies were taking over? As in, any woman who wasn’t his sister would do? Except she’d seen him avoid what’s-her-name last night at the taffy pull, so maybe “any woman” wouldn’t do, but that still didn’t mean he really still loved her. That he wouldn’t prey on her past feelings to feed his ego and hormones. Maybe he was simply saying what he thought she wanted to hear?
She did want to hear it, but she wanted him to mean it. And if he didn’t…
He didn’t. He had no intentions to marry her. He just wanted…
Her eyes burned.
Oh. That hurt. It was a good thing she was moving to Chicago. She needed distance from Levi. His previous method of avoidance worked best with their circumstances.
If it weren’t for the blizzard, she’d quit her job and demand that Noah take her home now.
After George sat, of course. He’d straightened and begun to move. She eyed the distance between the shuffling, wobbly old man and the chair. George was slower than brownie batter when walking without his support stick. She offered him her arm but he waved her off. “I got it!” he shouted.
Right.
Elsie pointed George to Levi’s office chair, put him to work helping her sort papers by vendor, then gave him Mildred’s message and a tissue when he started crying about missing his cats. Though she might have to redo the paperwork later. Especially since when George started telling her about his cats and naming names, he began moving papers here and there and back again.
Elsie zoned out when he got to the nineteenth cat and was still going strong.
How many cats did the man have anyway?
Too many.
Not that she’d tell him that.
He droned on, his voice getting slower and lower; then he quieted.
She worked for a couple of hours, maybe three, making significant progress on the mess that was Levi’s office. He should be pleased with the difference she made.
Even more pleased when he discovered that she found seven checks he’d never deposited. They weren’t large, and together they totaled less than five hundred dollars, but still. Money was money. She paper-clipped the checks together and put them in an empty spot on the desk.
The blizzard winds howled, the fire in the stove crackled, and down below something thumped, bumped, and thudded as if the entire woodpile stacked outside the front door decided to tumble.
The puppy started barking. Well, yipping.
Elsie put her stack of papers down, glanced at George—his head bobbed over his chest as he slept—then went down the ladder.
Another crash.
Abigail came into the living room. “What’s going on?”
Elsie shrugged. She flung the door open.
And in tumbled the Abominable Snow Monster.
* * *
As noon approached, Levi stretched and grabbed a couple of bottles of mostly frozen water from the shelf on the outside wall. He handed one to Noah. The two of them had accomplished more on the trains than Levi thought possible. Noah was a quick worker and once Levi explained what needed to be done, he went straight to work, first sanding and then assembling the train’s cages as soon as Levi got the pieces measured and cut out.
Noah’s cabinetmaking skills came in handy as he seemed to effortlessly fit pieces together. He took a sip of icy water. His eyes were wide as he looked around.
“You get paid for doing this? Really?”
The fourth time he’d said it that morning. With the same expression of wonder.
Levi had ignored him the first three times. Now he hesitated a moment. Noah hadn’t asked an amount, but he—and his daed—probably wondered if Levi could support Elsie in the event they actually married. If Levi ever saw his way cleared from guilt. And hello, jah, he wanted to marry her with every fiber of his being. He cleared his throat, then mentioned how much the gift shop owner, Mark, had mentioned he sold the first train for. Levi hadn’t been to town to collect the money yet.
Noah’s eyes bugged. “Wow! Seriously?”
Jah, right now it paid much better than Levi’s odds-and-ends “honeydo” construction business, but the construction job could be counted on to generate income year-round. Toymaking couldn’t. Which was why Daed called it a hobby.
Would Noah expect a generous cut for helping out?
Levi studied Noah’s work. He was good. He deserved some sort of honorarium, especially if Levi made his deadline, after all. In fact, if he married Abigail, maybe Noah could come to work for Levi as a cabinetmaker, because cabinet orders could be a year-round thing to fill in between toy orders, too.
And maybe Levi could find the courage to confess his sins to Bishop Nathan and find out if he was destined for hell or if Gott could somehow forgive him, extending enough grace and mercy for Levi to maybe someday marry Elsie.
If she’d have him.
She’d said she would take him back, but would she if she knew the truth?
Love never fails. The core of the “love chapter” Noah had quoted.
Did Gott love him like that?
Levi felt the sudden urge to bend his knees and pray—for forgiveness, for mercy, for him and Elsie, for so many other things. But would Gott hear him? And what would Noah think if Levi wept in agony and grief for no apparent reason? Noah would probably call the bishop—who didn’t need to be out in this weather, and…Oh horrors, Levi would be excommunicated in front of Elsie and Abigail. His stomach cramped.
He turned away from Noah and forced his attention to what they’d accomplished.
The rest of the gluing and the clamping could be done in the house. Actually, that’d probably be best since they’d dry faster in a warm space. The painting could be done inside, too.
The heaters were still not even making a dent in the frigid air. And now that Levi wasn’t working, he felt the chill.
Or maybe it was the icy water freezing him from the inside out.
“How about we go in, get something to eat, and thaw out?” Noah apparently felt the same. Cold.
“If I find a box to load this stuff in, we could probably work on painting inside the house this afternoon. There’s an old child’s sled in storage. Up in the loft. There are probably boxes up there, too.” He hadn’t been up there for almost two years. His stomach cramped again, this time from grief. “We could use it to haul stuff to the house.” His voice broke. The sled used to be his littlest brother’s.
“I’ll get the sled,” Noah said quietly, “and find a big box, if you want to gather what you need together.”
Like Levi’s control over his emotions? He managed a nod. And gulped.
Noah left the workshop and Levi took the time to get down on his knees near the heaters. He bowed his head, words clamoring for release, but the jumbled mess of thoughts emerged as, Oh, Gott. Oh, Gott. I’m so very sorry. If You could find Your way clear to forgive me…Followed by a flood of tears that left him gasping for breath, as a refrain of Oh, Gott. Oh, Gott played over and over.
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.