Her Amish Christmas Sweetheart. Rebecca Kertz

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      “I’m a patient man,” he said softly. “I can wait until you’re ready.”

      As if their wedding were a foregone conclusion. Meg looked out the window, watching the passing scenery. Reuben’s confidence bothered her when she should be flattered. She liked him. He was a nice man. But he wasn’t what she’d expected.

      This is all Peter’s fault, she thought bitterly. She’d been trying to recover from her unrequited love for Peter. She’d been foolish enough to be convinced that Reuben was the one, despite the fact that she barely knew him. She’d been obsessed with finding him again. Now that he was in her life, she shouldn’t be surprised that her feelings for him weren’t exactly what she had expected—or hoped for. She should tell him. It wouldn’t be right to allow him to hope in vain.

      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 СКАЧАТЬ