An Amish Christmas (22 page)

Catherine looked around to make sure Will was coming and got in on the passenger side. Meg realized that Catherine might not be allowed to drive a car, but she was allowed to be a passenger in one, and it was a lot faster to get to her daughter in a car than a buggy. Meg and Will practically dove into the backseat as the woman pulled onto the road.

“Will,” Catherine said calmly, “say where.”

“Just up there, you make a left turn.” His voice was shaky. “It was when we went around that corner, the whole thing fell over.”

“Is Amanda awake? Can she talk?”

“Oh yes, yes, it’s nothing like that,” Will rushed to reassure Catherine.

She expelled a small breath and turned to face them in the back. “This is my friend Nina Moore. She can take Amanda to the hospital if we need, so that is good.”

Will let out a small, tremulous sob. “I’m really sorry. It was my fault. I know I shouldn’t have touched the reins.”

Meg stared at him. “Touched the reins? What do you mean?”

“We, we … Lizzie and me, we were gonna deliver stuff with Amanda and Jonathan,” he started miserably.

“The pies,” Catherine said. “Jonathan and Amanda had to take pies to King’s. The regular delivery.”

Meg was startled to think the two would leave their sister’s
wedding to make a delivery. Then it occurred to her that it was a Tuesday, so businesses would be operating as usual. The Lutz family had a delivery to make, so they would make it, wedding or not.

“Go on,” she said brusquely to her son.

He seemed to shrink in his seat. “Amanda and Lizzie were in back, and I was sitting in the front. Jonathan was gonna drive, but then he had to go back inside to talk to somebody for a second. So Lizzie was teasing me. You know how she can be.” He looked for sympathy in his mother’s eyes but found none. “She was daring me to drive the buggy, saying, like, even Aaron could do it, stuff like that.” He paused to wipe his face with his jacket sleeve. “All I did was pick up the reins a little, and the horse just started going. I didn’t do
anything
, I swear. We were having fun, really, it was okay. Amanda said to stop, but you know, for a minute I was really driving. Then the horse started going too fast, and I couldn’t get him to stop. It was scary.” Fresh tears filled his eyes.

“What happened next?” Catherine asked.

“When we came to this corner, I didn’t tell it to, but the horse just turned really fast. The whole thing tipped over. Everybody screamed, but Amanda couldn’t get up.” His voice got very small. “So I ran back. That’s it.”

For the first time, Meg heard Nina speak: “Here they are.” She pulled over, and all of them got out. Meg caught her breath at the sight before her. The horse stood upright, still partially connected to the rig, which Meg recognized at once as Jonathan’s buggy. It lay on its side, badly damaged, the rear wheel shattered. Smashed pies and boxes were strewn everywhere,
the snow smeared with pieces of crust, apple filling, and chocolate. Just past the mess, sitting on a blanket, Lizzie had a protective arm around Amanda, who was rocking back and forth, her leg extended in front of her. Lizzie’s terrified expression turned to naked relief when she saw the women emerge from the car.

In an instant, Catherine was kneeling beside her daughter, softly asking questions. Amanda winced as Catherine lightly touched her leg, trying to determine the extent of the injury. When Lizzie and Catherine moved to help her up, Amanda cried out in pain before even attempting to put any weight on her foot.

Nina Moore was standing next to Meg and Will, watching. “That leg very well may be fractured. We’ll go straight to the hospital.”

Meg was amazed by Amanda’s stoicism. Although pale, she stood uncomplaining, leaning against Lizzie and Catherine, while Nina brought the car as close as she could and they helped her maneuver into the back. Then Lizzie came over to join her mother and brother.

Meg made a quick decision. She turned to her children. “I’m going to the hospital. One of you stay here with the horse, and one of you run and find Jonathan. Tell him about his buggy. Ask him how you should clean up the mess and who can help you. When I get back, there shouldn’t be any trace of this food left.”

She headed back to the car. Catherine had climbed in the back beside her daughter, whose silence belied the pain in her eyes.

“Mom—” Lizzie called after her own mother, but Meg yanked open the car door.

“Just go,” she said.

At the hospital, Nina and Meg took a seat in the waiting area while Catherine followed her daughter through the inner double doors to the emergency room for an X-ray.

“Well,” Nina said, “this has turned out to be an even busier day than anyone could have guessed.”

Meg shook her head. “I don’t know if I’m more angry or embarrassed. My kids have done a lot of things I’m not too proud of since we’ve been staying here, but this …”

“I heard about you being here. You and David almost crashing into each other. The Lutzes are a wonderful family, aren’t they? You got very lucky when you wound up in their house.”

Meg smiled. “Yes, but we only wound up there because we nearly killed David Lutz. Not so lucky for him.”

Nina smiled back at her. “But you didn’t kill him. Instead, you made friends with him.”

“That’s a very nice way to put it.” Meg felt grateful to her.

“Happily, it all worked out.”

Meg grew serious. “I’d like to know how this is going to work out. Let’s see: My kids have injured Amanda, destroyed Jonathan’s buggy, and disrupted Barbara’s wedding. Oh, and wait—last but not least, they ruined the entire restaurant order, which means the family lost that money altogether. All because of their completely thoughtless behavior. It’s not as if they don’t know better.”

“Take it easy,” Nina said. “It’ll be okay.”

“You don’t know how incredible these people have been to
us,” Meg said. “They’re the last people on earth I’d want to cause trouble for. And to hurt one of their children—I can’t bear it.”

The other woman put a comforting hand on Meg’s. “Look, if you know them, you know they’re very understanding. Nobody was seriously hurt. That’s what matters.”

Meg sighed.

Catherine pushed open one of the double doors and walked over to them. “Her leg is broken, but it’s not such a bad break. They have to put on a cast. We’ll be here for a while. You two go back and enjoy the rest of the wedding.”

“No, Catherine, don’t be silly,” Nina said. “We’ll wait.”

“Of course,” said Meg.

“There is no reason for you to sit here. Go back.”

Meg shook her head firmly. “Absolutely not.”

Catherine looked at her and saw she would not be dissuaded. “If you wish.” She turned to go back to her daughter.

Meg and Nina spent the next hour talking about what it had been like for the Hobarts to experience life on the Lutz farm. Meg was thrilled to be able to discuss some of what she had observed with another non-Amish person who knew about their way of life. They talked about the wedding and all the traditions associated with it. Meg learned from Nina that Barbara and Moses would not go on a honeymoon. As Amanda had partly explained on the night all the women were quilting, they would do what was typical of newlyweds, spending weeks visiting their wedding guests, sometimes making multiple visits in one weekend or traveling far afield. That way they would be ready to get back to work in time for the spring planting.

Nina was so easy to talk to that Meg felt as if they were old friends. She found herself describing how she had loved baking with the women, the soothing rhythms of the work and the camaraderie. She explained what a privilege it was to be allowed to bake for the wedding meal. Laughing, she recalled her immense relief that multiplying the recipes for her brownies and cookies to feed hundreds of people had worked out.

At the mention of Meg’s desserts, Nina’s eyes lit up. “You made those? They were fantastic.”

“Thank you so much.”

“I was wondering where they came from. I assumed it was some distant relative because I’ve never had them at any of the local Amish functions. Well, the ones I’ve been invited to.”

“I make them every year. My family likes them.”

Nina leaned in closer to Meg. “You know, I run a small inn about twenty-five miles from here. Every afternoon we serve tea with some kind of biscuit or sweet. Would you consider baking me some brownies and some of those cookies? Or other cookies, if you’ve got any recipes you really love. Give me a price, and if it’s reasonable, I’ll get a few dozen of each, and we’ll try it out. I love to serve things that people can’t get anywhere else.”

“Really?” Meg was so flattered, she didn’t know what to say. “Are you serious?”

Nina regarded her with mild surprise. “Well, of course. Why not?”

Meg smiled. “Yes. Why not?”

Meg approached Annie’s house with dread. After yesterday’s fiasco, she was as embarrassed as she could remember ever having been in her life. Her children, for whom she was responsible, had wreaked havoc on one of the Lutz family’s most important occasions. She was also exhausted, which made her feel even less able to cope with her mortification. Too upset to sleep, when she finally did fall asleep, she was awakened in the middle of the night by what she assumed was a dream in which she heard people moving around downstairs. She kept dozing off only to wake again, thinking she’d heard voices.

In the morning she learned that she hadn’t been dreaming at all. She had been hearing Barbara and Moses downstairs in the still-dark early morning, following another Amish tradition in which the bride and groom spend their wedding night at the bride’s parents’ house and get up especially early to clean
the house. The idea intrigued Meg. So unlike the usual concept of a wedding night. Again, the tradition was about helping the community and each other, not just the individual.

All the early-dawn cleaning by Barbara and her new husband meant that the downstairs was spotless, but Meg had circles under her eyes and wanted only to crawl back into bed and hide. Amanda was stuck in the house with her leg in a cast, dependent on crutches to get anywhere. The buggy sat in pieces in the barn. And now the Lutz women had to congregate at Annie’s to replace yesterday’s entire order of pies. Miserable, Meg had dragged her feet for as long as she dared before coming over this morning.

“Mom, wait up.”

Meg turned to see Lizzie running after her, sliding a bit on the icy ground. Meg had said little to her daughter or to Will since returning from the hospital yesterday.

Late last night, after they had all gotten back to the house, she had heard James yelling at them for a very long time. She decided that adding her own screaming recriminations wouldn’t help matters. Whatever James had said, it must have gotten through to them, because when the children emerged from the room, they were pale and practically shaking with guilt.

Now Lizzie caught up to her mother, breathing hard. “I want to come with you. To help. I know you have to make the food all over again.”

“Okay.” Meg looked at her for a moment. “It’s strange, but I didn’t even think to ask you to help.” She shrugged.

Lizzie didn’t reply, pursing her lips and looking down.

When they got to Annie’s house, Meg hesitated before
reaching for the doorknob. She was trying to prepare for the silent stares they would receive.

Inside the kitchen, it was a day like every other, the room fragrant and warm. Leah, Catherine, Annie, and Sue were combining the ingredients for apple and shoofly pies. They all glanced up at the appearance of Meg and her daughter, but their greetings were indistinguishable from those of any other time.

“Good, you are here,” said Catherine, in the process of stirring batter in a large wooden bowl, “so you can measure the flour for the next batch.”

Perhaps noticing Lizzie’s fearful expression, Sue took the unusual step of handing her an apron instead of letting her retrieve one herself. “After you wash your hands, you can help me slice more apples,” she told Lizzie. Her voice held only friendly politeness.

Leah offered Lizzie a knife. “Here, you use this one.”

Meg almost sagged with relief. I could kiss these women, she thought. Even Leah is acting as if nothing has happened.

She stood next to Annie, who was taking a measuring cup to a large tub of butter.

“Can you replace everything from yesterday?” Meg asked.

Annie nodded. “We will make extra pies, but we talked to the store owner.” She smiled. “He will take some of the cookies and pastries we have left from the wedding instead of twice as many pies today. He can’t sell so many pies, but maybe he can sell pies and cookies. So everybody is happy.”

That’s one problem solved, Meg thought, thanks to the resourcefulness of these women.

When she found herself next to Catherine later, she tried to think what words might possibly help to make things right. She was unable to come up with any. Nonetheless, she couldn’t pretend nothing had happened. “I’m so very sorry about—”

Catherine interrupted her. “Thank you. But you think I don’t know how you are feeling about this? I see it on your face. Please don’t be unhappy. You should not be. It was an accident, and nothing so terrible happened. Amanda’s leg will be fine. Everything else can be fixed. It is not important.”