Rebecca Kertz - Her Amish Christmas Sweetheart

“Meg!” she exclaimed. “You’re awake. I’ve been wanting to talk with you. I’m sorry I didn’t get back to the hospital before you came home.”

Her sister’s boundless energy was evident in her sparkling green eyes. Charlie pulled a chair close and studied Meg.

“Charlotte May,” her mother said as she entered the room. “Did you wake up your sister?”

“Nay, Mam. She was already awake.”

“She needs her rest. Run along and finish your chores.” As Charlie left, Mam turned to her. “Do you think you’ll feel well enough to come on visiting Sunday? We’ll be going to Aunt Katie’s.”

Meg hesitated. Would she be able to manage a day’s outing? Learning to use the crutches had exhausted her. She could find a chair and stay seated, she supposed. And she certainly wouldn’t mind seeing her Lapp cousins and church community friends.

“Your vadder is borrowing a wheelchair for you to use while you recover,” Mam said. “You might find it easier to move about.”

Meg nodded. “That’s thoughtful of him.”

Her mother looked relieved. Meg realized her family would stay home if she wasn’t up to visiting, and she became more determined than ever to show them that she was strong despite her recent hospital stay.

“There is something I need to discuss with you.” Mam glanced briefly toward the kitchen once they were alone.

Meg eyed her with concern. “Are you oll recht?”

Her mother gazed at her with warmth. “I’m fine.” She grabbed a wooden chair and set it to face her daughter’s.

“Mam?”

“There is something I need you to do for me, Meg. You know that your dat’s birthday will be here soon.”

“Ja, on Christmas.”

“Ja.” She shifted her chair closer, indicating she wanted to speak in private. “I’d like to surprise him with a birthday party,” she said quietly. “I’ve had a conversation with Horseshoe Joe. Did you know that Miriam’s birthday is the same day as Dat’s?”

“Nay, I didn’t.” Meg got a funny feeling inside.

“Joe wants to give Miriam a party, too. We’ve decided that we’d like you and Peter to plan one together.”

Meg found it difficult to breathe. “You want me...and Peter to work together?”

“Ja, and before you say a word, Meg, I’d like to remind you that you have a broken leg and can’t do chores. This celebration is important to me and to Horseshoe Joe. The best people for this task are you and Peter. You’ll work with him, ja?”

Meg, in fact, had been ready to object to the arrangement, but she wisely kept silent. Her mother was right. She couldn’t do chores while her leg was healing. Working with Peter so her father and his mother could have a surprise birthday celebration was something she could do to be useful. “I’ll be happy to work with Peter to plan the party.”

“Wunderbor!” Mam rose and put her chair back where it belonged. “You mustn’t tell a soul. Not even your sisters. Do you understand?”

Meg nodded.

“Gut.” Her mother looked pleased. “Lunch will be ready in a minute. Do you need help getting to the kitchen?”

Meg shook her head. “Nay. I’ll be there in a minute.” Her mother left her alone with her thoughts. She sat a moment and contemplated working secretly with Peter Zook. How would she manage? How would he react to the news?

Yesterday she’d told Peter that the accident caused her to put things in perspective in her life. She sighed. She had to find a way to work with him without her painful past interfering with their working relationship.

She stood, grabbed her crutches and hobbled toward the kitchen. Did Peter already know of their parents’ arrangement? Her stomach burned with anxiety. She’d see him tomorrow at her aunt and uncle’s. Would he mention the party? Refuse to work with her?

* * *

Sunday morning, after a decent night’s sleep provided by her pain medication, Meg rose from the bed in the first-floor sewing room. Her sisters, Leah, Ellie and Charlie, were working in the kitchen. Leah was at the stove, cooking eggs. Ellie was setting the table, and Charlie was putting out jars of jams and jellies. Meg had usually been up by six at the latest before the accident, and was shocked that she’d slept until eight thirty. “I’m sorry I slept so late.”

“You needed the rest,” Leah said with a smile. “Come and eat.” She pulled out a chair and helped Meg get situated at the table. “Eggs and toast? Or muffins with jam?”

“A muffin will be fine. Without jam,” Meg said, as she reached for a chocolate chip muffin. “Where’s Mam and Dat?”

“Dat’s outside getting the buggy ready. Mam’s upstairs.”

Meg broke open the muffin and took a bite. “Did Dat borrow a wheelchair?”

Ellie set down two cups of tea, one in front of Meg, before she sat across the table from her. “He did. He’s already put it in our buggy.”

Leah took the chair next to Meg and proceeded to fix her own cup of tea. “Does it bother you? The idea of being in a wheelchair again?”

Meg shook her head. “Nay. ’Tis not the same as before.” She’d spent several weeks in a wheelchair after she’d been discharged from the hospital, when a ruptured appendix had nearly killed her. A broken leg and a few bruises would heal much faster than severe complications from appendicitis.

After breakfast, her family headed to the Samuel Lapp farm, where Meg saw people she knew gathered around as her father steered their horse into the barnyard. Dat parked next to the carriage belonging to her cousin Eli and his wife, Martha. She smiled and waved at them before she saw Horseshoe Joe and Miriam Zook, along with Peter, pull in on their other side. Meg locked gazes with Peter before he climbed out of the vehicle. Then she turned her attention to her father, who reached in to lift her from the back seat.

Meg stood on her good leg as her dat went for her wheelchair. She reached to grab the buggy as she teetered there, then struggled for a better handhold. An arm immediately slipped about her waist in support, and she sighed with relief, glad for her sister’s help. But the clean, fresh scent of soap and man made her realize that the arm was masculine, strong, and most definitely belonged to Peter Zook. Her heart started to pound as she met his gaze.

“I’m steady now,” she assured him, eager for him to move away. Her world tilted, but then righted itself as he released her and stepped back. He turned to leave.

“Peter.” He halted and faced her. “Danki,” she said softly. Her throat constricted, and she felt her face heat.

Peter eyed her intently and nodded. Then he caught up with his mother and father as they approached the house. Meg watched him go with emotion akin to regret that he hadn’t stayed to chat—because she’d chased him away.

Her father moved the wheelchair close to where she stood. “Hold on, and I’ll help you.”

She felt drained and weak, and was glad to sit. As Dat pushed her toward the farmhouse, she started to believe that coming today had been a mistake. She felt tired, shaky...and unsettled by the memory of the warmth and strength of Peter’s arm as he’d steadied her.

* * *

Peter entered the Lapp house, his thoughts filled with Meg. He’d been fighting the emotion overwhelming him ever since he’d held her in his arms as he’d pulled her from the water.

He spied Agnes across the great room and immediately headed in her direction. His feelings about Meg would surely settle down if he spent time with his friend. “Hallo, you,” he said, greeting her with a smile.

“Hallo back,” she quipped with a crooked grin.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” But he was glad she was, if only to take his mind off the sweet scent of Meg’s hair and the warmth of her beneath his arm as he’d kept her from falling.