Her Amish Christmas Sweetheart

But how would she know that he wasn’t the right man for her if she didn’t give him a chance?

Clouds in the distance blanketed the sky, covering the stars. It started to drizzle. She scowled. Peter was right. But how could he have possibly known? Within minutes, the drizzle became a mist that coated the roadway and covered the buggy’s windshield.

“Is something wrong?” Reuben asked.

She bit her lip. Should she explain how she was feeling? Give him a chance. “Nay, but I—” A car came around a corner too fast and sideswiped the buggy, forcing the horse off the road. “Reuben!” she screamed.

Meg anticipated her death as the animal reared up on its hind legs and then bolted, dragging the vehicle down an embankment. Pain reverberated in her head as it slammed against the carriage’s sidewall. She felt a jerk, then the buggy tilted and rolled. Her body lurched painfully as it continued to tumble down the hill.

The pitching stopped suddenly with a splash. Searing agony and cold wetness enveloped her just before she blacked out.

* * *

Peter watched Meg leave with a sick heart. Even after all these years, he couldn’t forget what she’d said to him after she’d overheard him talking with his brother about her. He’d been mortified to realize that she’d heard him speak of his feelings for her—and she’d been upset by it. He’d thought they were friends, and he’d hoped for more. Even if she hadn’t returned his love, she could have let him down gently, he thought bitterly. Instead, she’d been angry and spoken scathingly to him.

“I overheard what you told your bruder, Peter Zook!” she’d snapped. “You have some nerve. I thought I knew you, but I was wrong. From now on, stay away from me! Just leave me alone!”

Yet despite her hurtful words, he’d been foolish enough to hope things between them would eventually change, so he’d been prepared to wait. After all, she’d been only sixteen. He’d hoped that with maturity they would come to an understanding, and he’d have a chance at winning her heart. But it would never happen now. Meg finally had the man she wanted—and it wasn’t and would never be him. What was it about her that wouldn’t let him move on and forget her?

Peter scowled. He knew she’d obsessed over Reuben, but he’d figured it was only a matter of time before Meg realized that she’d been infatuated with a memory. But now everything had changed, with Reuben’s return to Meg’s life. The man obviously reciprocated her affection.

His stomach clenched painfully. He couldn’t stand seeing her with Reuben. He should have tried harder to become friends with her again, but he’d hoped that if he stood back, watched and waited, she’d eventually soften toward him.

I’ve been too patient. I’ve waited too long. Years before that awful day she’d spurned his love, he should have tried to woo her.

She wants nothing to do with me. He needed to forget about her and move on. He needed to wed soon. His father was getting too old to farm, and with Josiah married and living elsewhere, it was up to Peter to take over the family farmhouse. Once he married, his parents would move into the dawdi haus on the property where Grandfather and Grandmother Hershberger had lived before they’d passed on. His father had mentioned several times in the last month wanting to move. An accident years ago had left his dat with a severely broken leg, which still pained him on occasion.

Peter wanted his parents to be happy. He knew they were upset because his sister Barbara hadn’t been home in over a year. Knowing his father would be delighted by the plan, Peter firmed his resolve to find a woman to marry before November of next year, the time for Amish weddings.

There were other girls within his community. Nice girls. Young women who seemed to like him. He would find a new love to marry. Someone like his good friend Agnes Beiler. Lately he’d glimpsed something in her gaze that hinted she was open to more than friendship with him.

Unfortunately, he would be working with Meg Stoltzfus in the coming weeks till Christmas, whether he wanted to or not. This morning his father had approached him and asked that he help with a surprise party for his mother. His mam’s birthday was on Christmas Day—and so was Meg’s father’s. His dat and Meg’s mam wanted the two of them to plan a joint surprise birthday party. He once would have looked forward to spending time with her, when he’d still had hopes of winning her heart. But not now. Planning a party with her was the last thing he wanted—or needed.

Perhaps he worried needlessly. Meg might refuse to work with him, and he’d be off the hook.

Yet how could he deny his mother a birthday party? His mam’s father—his grossdaddi—had died several months ago, and Grossmammi had followed him to the grave less than a week later. It had been a terrible time for his mam and family. While his mother had a strong belief that her parents were with the Lord, Mam still felt the pain of her loss.

So he would work with Meg if it meant bringing a glimmer of happiness into his mother’s life. Mam was a wonderful wife and mother, and Peter would not fail in the task his father had assigned him. Whether or not Meg wanted it, they would plan a party together that neither parent would forget.

Forcing Meg from his thoughts, he approached his friend. Agnes Beiler was a kind girl with an inherent sweetness. With the singing over, he decided to offer her a ride home. Although Agnes lived in the next church district, he figured he could manage the distance from the Troyer farm to the Beiler residence in a reasonable amount of time before heading home. Peter studied her, enjoying the view, anticipating taking their friendship to the next level. It just made solid sense to fall for a good friend. Friendship was a good basis for marriage.

He leaned close and softly asked, “Agnes, may I take you and your sister home?”

She beamed at him. “Ja. That would be wunderbor, Peter. Just let me tell Alice.”

He watched her approach her sister, who briefly glanced in his direction and then nodded. He saw Agnes move to her younger brother, who had brought the girls. The sisters then headed in his direction, clearly delighted for him to take them home. A mental image of Meg intruded, but he banished it. Agnes was just the person to get her out of his thoughts—and his heart.

The young women reached him. He grinned. “All set?”

“Ja. Are you sure you don’t mind?” Agnes had likely suspected his feelings for Meg, and her eyes were sympathetic as she gazed at him.

“Nay, I’m more than happy to take you.” He regarded her with warmth, and was pleased to see Agnes’s eyes light up and her lips curve with pleasure. He assisted the sisters into the open buggy and then steered the horse toward the Joshua Beiler farm. The ride went quickly. It started to drizzle as he helped the sisters from the vehicle.

“I’ll see you again soon.” Agnes hurried toward the house after her sister, then waved from the front stoop.

As he headed for home, Peter brightened at the possibility of a new, meaningful relationship with Agnes. There were no streetlights and the road was dark. Rain, which began as a mist, fell in earnest, and he had to watch carefully. The family buggy would have offered him some protection from the rain, but his parents had taken it to his sister Annie’s for a light supper. Unfortunately, he’d forgotten to put back the umbrella usually stored under the wagon seat after Annie had returned it last week.

Water pooled on the brim of his Sunday best black felt hat and ran in rivulets down his back. A light wind gust tossed the rain into his face, and he used his sleeve to wipe his eyes. He would be soaked before he got home, but there was no getting around it. He caught sight of an Amish buggy’s running lights directly ahead on his side of the road. The headlights of an oncoming car blinded him for a second and then veered. Peter watched with growing horror as the car took the turn too fast and struck the vehicle ahead of him. The horse reared up and ran off the road. His eyes widened as the carriage rolled, out of control, and the car raced past him.

Stunned, Peter spurred his horse into a canter. His heartbeat thundered in his chest when he spied the buggy upended on the far side of the creek. After braking, reining in and finally securing his horse to a tree, he tossed his hat on the ground and ran to the water’s edge. Only to find Reuben Miller lying near the edge of the stream.

Peter ran to him. “Reuben! Are you oll recht?” He gently shook him. “Reuben!”

“Meg.” His gaze unfocused, Reuben attempted to sit up, grimaced, then fell back and closed his eyes. The man had been thrown from the vehicle.

“Meg is with you?” Peter asked, overcome with sudden stark terror. This wasn’t the road to the Arlin Stoltzfus farm!

Reuben groaned. “Meg.”

“Meg!” The rain fell in earnest as Peter waded into the water toward the overturned buggy. By some miracle, the horse had broken free when the vehicle had overturned, and now stood several yards away, a piece of the damaged harness still attached to it. “Meg!”

The water was deeper than he’d thought. He held his breath and dived under. He panicked when he didn’t see her. Gasping, he shot up for air, then, frantic to find her, went under again. Adrenaline rushed through him, allowing him to stay underwater longer. His lungs hurt, in need of oxygen, and he lunged up to the surface once more. And then he saw Meg, several feet away. Faceup, but submerged in water, her dark hair floating about her eerily, her legs wedged under the damaged vehicle. His throat tightened as he battled fear.

Meg! He drew a deep breath and swam underwater until he was by her side. He reached out a hand, grabbed her arm and gently tugged. His heart thundered with gratitude as he was able to pull her legs from under the buggy. Please, Lord, let her be well. He continued to silently pray for her.

Finally, he had her close, and he raised her head above the water as he swam with her to the shallows, where he could stand. Then he swung her up into his arms and cradled her against his chest as he carried her to land.

Emotion lurched within his chest as he tenderly brushed back wet strands of dark hair from her unusually pale face. He set her gently on the ground close to Reuben. Please, Father, help me help her. I’ll leave her alone. I’ll move on with my life. Please just let her live!

He knelt beside Meg. When he saw that she wasn’t breathing, his blood ran cold. Peter turned her onto her belly, then pressed down on her back several times in a steady rhythm. When she didn’t respond, he turned her over again, tilted her head back and bent to give her mouth-to-mouth. Her lips were soft but cold. As he drew breath, then blew air into her lungs, he felt his fear escalate, but he remained focused as he worked to save her life. He stopped the breaths to press his hands below her sternum a few times, then continued mouth-to-mouth. He prayed he was doing correctly what he’d learned from a first-aid course.

Meg sputtered and gagged. Dizzy with relief, Peter quickly turned her over yet again, and with his arm beneath her shoulders, held her up as she vomited water. Tears filled his eyes as she coughed, then took several rough, gasping breaths. He waited until she quieted, then eased her onto her back. When he saw that she was breathing normally again, he offered up a silent prayer of thanks. Then he moved to check on Reuben.

“Reuben, I’m going to get help. Meg is right here next to you.”

The man groaned.

“Reuben, do you understand? Meg is oll recht.” He hoped and prayed it was true.

When Reuben didn’t answer, Peter raced up to the road. As a vehicle approached, he waved his arms and shouted, but the driver zipped by. This section of road was dark and lonely, and he feared he’d be unable to get Meg and Reuben the medical attention they needed. He caught sight of another car. This time he ran into the road to flag it down, and prayed the driver would stop in time to avoid hitting him.

The car slowed. Peter moved off the road as the vehicle pulled next to him, and someone rolled down the passenger window. It was a middle-aged couple, the man in the driver’s seat.

“Do you need help?” the woman asked.

“Yes,” he said. “Do you have a phone?” When she said she did, he asked, “Would you call for medical assistance? There’s been an accident. My friends—they’re down by the creek.”

The man parked his car while the woman dialed emergency services. Peter paced, anxious to get Meg and Reuben the help they needed.