Amish Christmas Gift Read online

  Amish Christmas Gift

  Amish of Willow Creek

  Samantha Jillian Bayarr

  Copyright © 2015 by Samantha Jillian Bayarr

  Cover/internal design by Livingston Hall Publishers, LLC

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form either written or electronically without the express written permission of the author or publisher.

  All brand names or product names mentioned in this book are trademarks, registered trademarks, or trade names, and are the sole ownership of their respective holders. Livingston Hall Publisher, LLC is not associated with any products or brands named in this book.

  Chapter 1

  ________________________

  Spend this Christmas with our Family

  Spend your Christmas with our family at the Willow Creek B&B, and experience an old-fashioned Christmas. Enjoy a horse-driven sleigh ride and a home-cooked meal with all the trimmings on Christmas Eve. Indulge the kid in you with hot cocoa and pumpkin pie around the fire, and sing carols when we light up the twelve-foot tree.

  Call to make reservations today.

  __________________________

  The kid in me, huh? If you ask either of my parents, they’d say I’m still a kid. They seem to think I’m still the twelve-year-old girl they left behind when they broke up our family. But honestly, my childhood was long-since lost a long time ago.

  Vivian Waterford quieted her thoughts as she stared at the one-page newspaper advertisement one last time before tossing it onto the canopy bed she’d outgrown more than a few years ago. She looked about her room at her mother’s home and sighed at all the pretty, childish things, wondering what she’d seen in any of it. She had a nearly-identical room at her father’s uptown apartment in Chicago. They were just things—expensive furnishings and trinkets she’d accumulated since her parents’ separation more than ten years ago. At the time, she was happy to be showered with such extravagant items while her parents competed for her love. Competed against each other was more like it, and all they’d managed to do was alienate her in the process.

  She didn’t belong here anymore. She had her own apartment across town, and did not understand their insistence to stay with them over the holidays, when she could drop in on them just as easily. Staying on their terms did not afford her the chance to escape when things got a little too complicated, which was becoming commonplace.

  And now with Christmas only a few days away, she just wasn’t up to her usual holiday routine. She had long-since outgrown a lot of things in her life, and being played in the tug-of-war between her parents was what she’d grown the most tired of. Normally, she spent the first half of her Christmas vacation shopping on Michigan Avenue, picking out her own gifts since her father was so impersonal when it came to gifts. Although he had never given her a spending limit, there was only so much she could purchase from all the stores and not feel a bit of emptiness from being alone. In the beginning it was fun, but it was all becoming too impersonal, having long-since lost its appeal. This year, she was just not interested in shopping, and she certainly was not up to the usual competition between her parents over which one of them had given her a better Christmas.

  Truth-be-told, neither of them had given her a good Christmas for several years, and it had caused her to lose sight of the real importance of the season. She’d become lost in her parents’ competition, and she was tired of it.

  Now that she was out on her own, they’d stepped up the guilt trips they laid on her about spending time with them. She’d heard everything from I’m not getting any younger, to I have tickets to see the Nutcracker Ballet on Christmas Eve. She’d even heard the classic; It would be nice to have a son-in-law and grandchildren this year to spoil.

  They didn’t need anyone else to spoil. They’d done a fine job of spoiling Vivian to the point of ruining the Christmas season for them as a family. But they hadn’t been a family in a lot of years. She could see her parents still loved each other, and neither had moved on, but each was too stubborn to admit it. As for Vivian marrying and having children of her own; that was the last thing she wanted to do. With her parents as an example of marriage, and her lonely childhood to think about, she didn’t have the heart to put another person through what she’d been through. If she had no conscience, she’d go out and marry the first man she met, and start a family right away—just to spite her parents. But she could no more put anyone through having her parents for in-laws, than she wanted them for parents for herself. God-forbid that she should bring an innocent child into it so they could ruin Christmas for a grandchild on top of everything. Though Vivian loved her parents dearly, she didn’t think they would ever be ready to be grandparents, and she wished things could go back to the way they were when she was younger.

  She was tired of all of it. All the empty promises to spend time with her. The constant promises of a family Christmas. She hadn’t had any quality time with either of her parents since she was younger, when family-time was the center of the season. Which brought her to the very reason she had decided to spend her Christmas at the B&B instead of with either parent. She wanted to experience the holidays just the way it boasted in the advertisement—with family, even if it wasn’t with her own family. Her happiest times had been spent at a tiny farmhouse in the country when she was younger—before her parents became city-folk and went their separate ways. They became so self-involved, they even forgot the true meaning of the season.

  She slouched back onto the canopy bed and picked up the newspaper once more, staring at the advertisement and daring herself to follow through with what she wanted to do over the holidays. Picking up her cell phone from the nightstand, she called the number and gave her reservation with the young woman that answered, delighted they still had an opening. She was excited, but nervous. Neither of her parents would be happy with her once they discovered her plans, but she would be long-gone before they found out. She felt like a coward doing it this way, but she was not about to let them talk her out of having a more meaningful Christmas than she’d had with either of them in more than ten years.

  Vivian repacked her suitcase, and then lugged it to the front door, determined not to stay with her mother after all. Her eyes tearing up, her throat constricted, as she wrote a note of regret to her mother. It would be her first Christmas without her parents, but she knew it was time to grow up; she just didn’t expect it to hurt this much. Vivian stood at the front door, wondering what her mother would think when she came back to her empty condo at the end of her day. She expected Vivian to be here waiting for her. Lowering her head, she let out one long sigh before grabbing her suitcase and wheeling it out to her car. Tossing it haphazardly on top of the remains of her most recent, empty shopping trip, Vivian paused, wondering if she was doing the right thing. Slapping her gloves together to knock the snow from her hands, she closed the trunk. Right or wrong, she was off to celebrate Christmas the way it was supposed to be celebrated, even if she had to celebrate it with someone else’s family.

  Starting the car, she turned the blower to the heater on full-blast, and pushed the defrost button to clear the foggy windshield. She shivered and blew out a breath, seeing it crystalize against the frosty air. Turning the switch to start the wipers, she cringed as they scraped against the icy windshield with a squeak. They began to catch every inch or so along the icy glass, until she squirted some washer fluid on the windshield.

  By the time she reached the state line, the snow was thicker and more icy, and she worried she would run out of washer fluid to keep her windshield clear. Her defrost was helping some, but with the snow coming down like sheets of ice, it was tough for her to keep the windshield dry.

  Mor
e than once, she thought about turning back, but every mile that took her further from chaos, drew her closer to peace. Each time the temptation to go back twisted at her heart, she reminded herself that having a peaceful Christmas was the whole point of the trip.

  As she drove down an isolated, country road, under a canopy of snow-covered trees, her worry about the weather turned to panic. She was sure she didn’t have too much further to go, but the increase in heavy snowfall was making it almost impossible for her to see. She used caution around the curves, but when the road straightened out, she decided to go a little faster so she could make it to the B&B before dark, when driving would become almost impossible. Even though the B&B was only a two hour drive from where she lived, she was a little unsure of where she was going, and the thick snow didn’t help matters. She’d Googled the map route, but she was still in unfamiliar territory, and the thick snow made it even more difficult to find her way. Vivian tuned her radio to the local Christian station and listened to several of her favorite, familiar Christmas songs. The music put her in the Christmas spirit, distracting her enough to make her eager to reach her destination, so she could meet the family she would be spending Christmas with.

  A sudden pop sent the car into a fishtail as it careened into the other lane, causing her to grip the steering wheel with white knuckles. “God, please!” she screamed.

  Instinctively, she slammed on the breaks, but it only made the situation worse; she’d completely lost control of the vehicle.

  Letting out a strangled cry, Vivian held her breath as the car slid off the road. Her head turned to the side window, and she watched helplessly as the car was fast-approaching a tree.

  She let her eyes drift closed, and braced herself for an impact that never came. Feeling the car come to a sharp, sudden stop, she slowly opened her eyes to see her vehicle had come to a stop only inches from the tree. The snow on the shoulder was so deep it managed to stop her short of the impact.

  Letting out her breath with a whoosh, tears of relief pooled in her eyes. She called out to God, thanking him for sparing her life, and asked Him to send her help in this storm.

  Panic quickly filled her when she remembered she was on an abandoned, country road, without another car in sight. Opening her car door until it bumped the tree she’d almost collided with, Vivian leaned down and saw her flat tire stuck in deep snow. Even if the tire hadn’t gone flat, she was stuck, and it would be hard for a tow truck to pull her out of this deep ditch.

  Picking up her cell phone, she pushed autodial for AAA, but lost her signal. She held it up in vain, knowing she would not get service way out here so far from the main towers.

  Lord, if you send help to get me out of this mess I’ll find a way to make it up to my parents this Christmas, she vowed. Something unselfish and completely unlike my parents.

  Benjamin Yoder pointed out a mother rabbit and her litter of babies to his five-year-old daughter, Molly, while he allowed the horses to trot slowly along the heavily-wooded path that led away from Willow Creek. Molly giggled as the brown, fluffy critters hopped along in the snow, and her father smiled at her curiosity over them. He knew better than to stop so she could get a better look; having a heart for strays like her mother, Molly would have begged him to let her bring one of them home with her. Another mouth to feed was not what they needed at the moment; Benjamin’s main concern was that their one and only guest for the holiday was more than three hours late for her reservation. He’d assumed the delay had been due to the heavy snowfall from the blizzard warning they’d fallen under since the noon-hour.

  Prayer for her safety pricked at his heart, and Benjamin obeyed the prompting he felt, whispering the faintest of prayers disguised only by the rhythmic jingling of the bells on the harnesses of his geldings.

  A sudden, sharp noise from the main road caught his attention. As they neared the clearing, he watched an out-of-control car come to a sudden halt through the thick of the trees; a prayer for safety on his lips. Benjamin clicked to his team to push them closer to the main road as he whispered another prayer of thanks that the car did not hit the tree it was aimed toward.

  Vivian felt her panic subside a bit when she heard the faint sound of jingle bells behind her. She looked in her rearview mirror and could just make out a team of horses pulling a sleigh through the thick snow. She buttoned her coat and pulled on her gloves, and stepped out of her car to ask the stranger for help.

  As the sleigh approached, she saw that an Amish man was at the reins, a young child beside him.

  Is this your idea of sending help? She asked God silently. This has to be a joke.

  She didn’t know much about the Amish, but she didn’t think he’d be of any help in fixing her car.

  A tall man, perhaps a few years older than she, stepped out of the sleigh, his thick blond hair sticking out from under his snow-covered, black felt hat, his nose and cheeks pink from the cold. The child stared at her, but didn’t utter a word, and when Vivian made eye-contact with her, she lowered her gaze. She wondered why he would have the child out in this weather, but she supposed the girl was probably used to it. Besides, she didn’t seem like she was suffering any discomfort beneath the heavy quilt she was wrapped in.

  The man stepped carefully through the thick snow to make his way toward her. “Are you hurt, Miss?” he asked with such a thick German accent, Vivian could barely understand him.

  She shook her head. “Just a little shaken up, I suppose.”

  “I’m Benjamin Yoder, and this is my daughter, Molly. Is there something I can help you with?”

  Vivian looked at the child and smiled, but she lowered her gaze once again. She thought it was rather strange, but remembered reading somewhere that downcast eyes was a cultural thing with the Amish.

  “It seems to be a flat tire,” she told him. “It caused me to slide off the road. I don’t suppose you have anything in your sleigh to help with that, do you?” She joked.

  Benjamin chuckled lightly. “No, I don’t suppose I do. But I could give you a ride to my B&B, just a few miles up the road, so you could use the phone and get out of the cold.”

  “You’re the owner of the Willow Creek B&B?” Vivian asked slowly.

  “Jah,” he replied.

  She looked him over, wondering why an Amish man would be running a B&B. When the advertisement offered the guests to spend Christmas with their family, she hadn’t dreamed it could be an Amish family. She had not heard good things about the Amish, and suddenly envisioned having to use an out-house in the middle of the night, and staying at a home with no running water or electricity. But hadn’t he said she could use the phone? She’d called to make a reservation, so they must have some modern conveniences. Surely she could bow out of her reservation altogether if it was that primitive.

  Benjamin wondered if she was the guest he and his family were expecting that evening, but before he had a chance to ask, she offered the information.

  “I’m Vivian Waterford.” She extended her hand and Benjamin shook it politely, glancing up to smile at her for a moment, then returning his gaze to the ground. This confused Vivian, she was used to men that would look at her when speaking. But she supposed since he was married, it wasn’t proper for him to look at her the way other men do. She suddenly felt guilt creeping into her mind for thinking he was handsome, and knowing if he was her husband, she wouldn’t want another woman to think improper thoughts about him.

  Benjamin chided himself for staring into Vivian’s emerald green eyes, thinking she must have found his actions improper. He’d diverted his gaze as soon as he’d gathered his manners, but it was most likely too late for her not to notice his eyes lingering on hers. Her porcelain skin complimented her eyes, reminding him of the glass dolls on display in the window of Main Street Mercantile in the antique district downtown. He couldn’t help but stare at her unblemished beauty. But Katie would likely scold him if she found out, although she’d likely guess once he brought her back to the B&B, and the two wom
en had a chance to meet.

  Vivian reached into her bag for her cell phone, feeling fortunate it now had a signal. Her battery showed only three percent, but she decided to risk it and call AAA to help her with the flat. Right as she was relaying directions to them from Benjamin, her phone shut off. She sat down in her front seat feeling frustrated. She tried to turn the key in the ignition so she could charge her phone a bit, but the engine would not start.

  Feeling defeated, she turned to Benjamin. “I guess I’ll be needing that sleigh ride after all.”

  Chapter 2.

  Little Molly moved to the back of the sleigh, and Benjamin helped Vivian step up onto the front bench, then climbed in beside her. She found it odd that the little girl should move on her account, and wondered, if perhaps, it was out of respect that the child went to the back seat. Still, it almost made Vivian a little uncomfortable, and hoped his wife would not be upset at seeing her sitting next to her husband when they returned to the B&B. Benjamin offered her a quilt to protect against the harsh cold. She placed the quilt over her lap and tucked it around her, preparing for what she felt sure would be a cold ride up the road. She glanced back at Molly, who let a glimpse of a smile escape her lips, but then let her gaze fall to the quilt she tucked closely around her.

  She stole a sideways glance at Benjamin, trying not to stare at his chiseled jawline and kind, blue eyes. Was this what it felt like to be part of an Amish family? If her friends could see her now, they’d never understand why she was here in a horse-driven sleigh instead of sitting with them at Starbucks, sipping a latte and gossiping. She never was one for gossiping; she was always the one tuning them out. She used to lecture her friends, but her pleas fell on deaf ears. They never talked maliciously about anyone, but that didn’t mean their stories weren’t full of gossip, and Vivian was too quiet for that sort of thing. Yes, she could get used to this kind of quiet; the thick blanket of snow making the woodsy backdrop more appealing by the second.