Chapter Fourteen

  The lights were low and the television was off. Come to think of it, the television hadn’t been turned on as far as he knew. He settled into the chair that could be adjusted to form a small bed, though he didn’t bother with that. Instead he covered himself with the blanket the nurses had kindly left, stared at the wall and tried to decide what he’d say when Annie finally woke.

  An hour later, she tried to turn over in her sleep and let out a yelp.

  He catapulted from the chair.

  “You can’t do that.”

  “Why?”

  “Your leg...it’s broken and in a splint.”

  “Oh.”

  “They’re planning to put a cast on it tomorrow. The doctor said she was waiting for your swelling to go down, and then they didn’t really want to move you around a lot until you were awake—if they didn’t have to.”

  She stared at him a moment, then nodded and closed her eyes. He turned to go back to his chair, but she reached out and claimed his hand.

  “Can I get you something?”

  “A cup of water?”

  “Sure, there’s some right here.” His hand shook as he poured water from the small pitcher into the cup. He showed her how to raise the head of the bed, and he made sure the straw was where she could reach it. Seeing her hand, still bandaged and sporting the IV, caused a lump to rise in his throat.

  She handed the cup back to him. “Maybe pull a chair up closer.”

  “Ya, of course.”

  “Why are you holding a teddy bear?”

  “This?” He hadn’t realized he’d been holding it since she’d first yelped. “It’s from Priscilla. She came by to see you.”

  He settled it in the bed beside her, even covered it up with the blanket, and was relieved to see a smile tug at the corners of her mouth.

  “My parents didn’t tell me everything. What were they holding back?”

  He thought about that a minute. They’d answered all of her questions, but they had downplayed how much danger she’d been in. “I guess they didn’t really describe how scared they were—how scared we all were. The bishop was here. Actually, the waiting room was filled with people from our district.”

  “I don’t remember seeing any of them.”

  “The doctors weren’t sure why you weren’t waking up. None of their tests indicated a concussion. One doctor was worried that you’d slip into a coma, but then the other one—Dr. Tallman—said she’d seen this before and that your body just needed rest. She said that as long as your blood pressure and pulse were strong, to let you sleep.”

  “Three days?” She stared out the darkened window. “It’s strange how you can lose a chunk of your life and never even realize it.”

  Levi didn’t know how to answer that, so he didn’t.

  “You’re sure Priscilla is okay?”

  “Ya. She was here earlier. Brought the bear...” He cleared his throat—thinking of all she’d said. Thinking of her admonition for him to talk to Annie now, while there was time. Basically reminding him not to take anything for granted. As if he needed that reminder. “She said she’d be back tomorrow and that she’d bring the Scrabble board.”

  Annie nodded as if she expected as much. “How is the truck driver?”

  “He didn’t even have to go to the hospital.”

  “I wish I could remember.”

  You’re better off not knowing, he thought.

  But then he realized that he would want to know if it had happened to him—so he told her everything. He described hearing the crash, not understanding that it was Annie and Priscilla, leaving Petunia and the buggy in the middle of the road and running toward the tangle of cars in the intersection. When he reached the part about pushing his way through the crowd to her side, about the doctor who happened to be two cars back, his hands began to shake.

  “It scared you,” she said.

  “Of course it did.”

  “Maybe it’s one of those things that’s worse to watch than it is to experience.”

  “Maybe.”

  “I’m not looking forward to dragging a cast around for the foreseeable future.”

  The splint on her leg was large and awkward. Levi realized it must be very difficult for her to get comfortable at all. “Do you need it moved or something?”

  “Ya. Maybe a little.”

  So he moved it left, then right and then left again. He moved her leg as gently as if it had been a newborn baby. He was so afraid of hurting her, of making things worse. Was that why he hadn’t talked to her of his feelings? Was he worried that doing so could make their relationship worse? But keeping it inside, well that wasn’t going to work, either.

  Finally Annie sighed and waved him back to the chair.

  “I’ve never had a cast,” Annie admitted. “It always looked like fun, when someone in school would have one and everyone would sign it.”

  “We’re not in school, but I’ll sign your cast.”

  Her eyebrows shot up, but she seemed to detect the underlying fear beneath his banter.

  “Tell me the rest.”

  “I wish...I wish you could have seen Priscilla’s truck. Maybe someone took pictures. I don’t know. But if you’d seen it, how completely demolished it was, I think you’d be grateful for just a splinted leg or a cast. You both could have been killed.”

  She nodded as if she understood and maybe she did. She rubbed her temples, and he wondered if even sitting up was painful for her.

  “Do you want me to call the nurse?”

  “Nein.”

  “It’s understandable if you’d like some pain medication—”

  She shook her head as if to dispel his concern. Finally she turned her brown eyes toward him and pinned him to the spot with a look. “I’m tired of sleeping, but I’m still tired. Does that make sense?”

  “Ya.” He knew about that sort of weariness, only his had come from the problems with his family, from always looking for the next spot where he was sure he’d find peace and contentment, from trying to scratch the itch that was his broken dream.

  “Why are you still here?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Mamm and Dat went home. Priscilla came and left. Why are you still here?”

  “I didn’t want you to spend Christmas Eve alone.” He glanced around the room. A volunteer had come by with a tiny Christmas tree, and another had brought some artificial holly that had been draped across a shelf. There were no gifts, none of the normal things they would equate with Christmas, but he knew that the next morning her family would bring gifts and handmade cards from the children.

  “Have you been doing this every night?”

  “Ya, but...”

  “What’s going on, Levi? What aren’t you telling me?”

  He realized he couldn’t put it off any longer. He was terrified, nearly as afraid as he’d been as he ran toward the truck. But in that moment he understood that the only thing worse than being rejected by her would be never taking the chance, and so he stood, poured himself a cup of water and drained it. Finally he sat back down on the chair next to her bed.

  He wasn’t sure exactly how he was going to say it, but he knew that it was now or never.

  * * *

  Annie felt her pulse begin to beat more rapidly. Had the accident somehow damaged her heart? Was she about to pass out? But she somehow knew that what she was feeling had nothing to do with her physical condition. It was the way that Levi was looking at her that made her pulse race. It was something tickling her memory that was causing her hands to sweat. Something she couldn’t quite pull to the front of her mind.

  Levi finally put down the cup he was fiddling with and perched on the chair next to her bed.

  “I’ve been struggling with this awhile now. I can see that, and I’m tired of it. Tired of going to sleep wondering if it’s just a crush, if tomorrow I’ll wake up and feel differently.”

  “A crush?”

  “Only it’s not. Somehow I know it’s not going to pass like a bad cold.”

  Did he just compare his feelings for her to a bad cold? She wanted to laugh. She wanted to grab his big shoulders and shake him. But what she wanted most was for him to look at her and say what he meant.

  “How I feel about you—it isn’t going away. I guess I’ve known that for a while now.”

  His eyes met hers, and suddenly she remembered the kiss they’d shared, the way her heart had soared and her stomach had dropped, the certainty of her emotions when she’d confessed her feelings to Priscilla.

  “I definitely never thought we’d be friends.” She plucked at the blanket. “You and that ridiculous cowboy hat and boots and stories of Texas.”

  “We are freinden now.” He smiled at her. “I guess neither of us saw that coming.”

  “I wasn’t very kind when you first came to Goshen. I was so afraid of your dream, of your certainty that life would be better somewhere else. For some reason I’m not afraid of that anymore.”

  “I’m persuasive in that way.” He gulped so hard that she saw his Adam’s apple bob. “Or maybe Gotte has been the one doing the persuading, working on both of our hearts.”

  He reached for her hand and traced a finger down the inside of her palm causing goose bumps to pepper her skin.

  “But what I’m feeling...” He cleared his throat and tried again. “It’s more than friendship and it’s more than a crush.”

  “It is?”

  “How I feel about you, Annie, it’s different than I’ve ever felt about anyone else.”

  “It is?”

  “And what I want, what I dream of, is our being more to each other. I’m not satisfied with being your friend. I don’t want to play it safe anymore. I’m ready to take a chance.”

  She shook her head, reached for her kapp strings and then realized she wasn’t wearing one. Brushing back her hair, she met his gaze. “You’re ready to take a chance on what? Levi, maybe it’s my head injury, but I need you to speak more plainly.”

  “I want to close the distance between us. I want to be the other half of you—like two pieces of a puzzle that fit perfectly together.”

  “Are you saying you love me?”

  “Yes. Annie Kauffmann, I love you.” His gaze held steady, and she found that she had to look away. It was what she’d wanted to hear, what she’d told Priscilla that he was afraid of. Only now he wasn’t. Now he was sitting here confessing his love after sitting by her side for three days.

  “You’re sure? Because after our kiss you said...”

  “I said I was desperate. I was scared. I’ll admit that.” He stared at the floor a minute, then sat back and allowed a silence to settle over them. Finally he cleared his throat and chuckled.

  “I was talking to Jebediah when he came up to check on you. I guess he helped me to see what should have been obvious.”

  “My bruder?”

  “Ya. He asked me how I felt when we’re apart. He asked me, did I miss hanging out or did I miss your face, your touch, your laugh.”

  “I never knew my bruder was such a romantic.”

  “He said there’s a difference between wondering what’s going on in your life and needing to know how your day was. There’s a difference between caring about you and wanting—nein, needing to spend the rest of our lives together.”

  Annie nodded, a lump forming in her throat, wishing he would stop because she was about to cry, and praying that he wouldn’t stop because she wanted to hear...to finally hear what was in his heart.

  “And then I realized there’s a difference between loving someone like a schweschder in Christ, like a family member or a friend, and loving someone so much that you feel a little sick in your stomach.”

  “Like you have a bad cold.”

  “Exactly.” He grinned and she was reminded of that first night, of him following her out to the wedding trailer and rambling on about Texas. “There’s a difference in loving someone in a general sense, and needing to say the words I love you. I do love you, Annie, and if you feel the same...”

  “I do.” The words slipped from her lips as simply as rain falling to the ground, and suddenly the weight on her heart was gone. Just like that. The burden of her love for him, it was lighter because she’d shared it. Why had she waited so long to tell him?

  “You do?”

  “Ya. I think I have for some time now.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  She shrugged and remembered suddenly all that stood between them. She remembered afresh the grief at realizing she could have her dream of a successful wedding business or she could have Levi—but it didn’t seem that she could have both.

  Tears slipped down her cheeks and she brushed them away. “It’s just that I didn’t see how...how we could make it work.”

  “Why, Annie? Tell me why.” When she didn’t answer, he pushed a little harder. “Is it because of Texas?”

  “Yes and no.”

  “Maybe I’m the one with the head injury now, but I need you to explain it to me.”

  “I don’t want to move. I don’t think I want to move. I’m willing to admit that I’m terrified of that possibility. I love you, Levi, but I also love what I have here, my business with Priscilla. It’s more than just a job.”

  “I know it is.”

  “We make a real difference in people’s families. We help them to celebrate one of the most important days of their lives. It’s a real blessing to do that.”

  “I understand.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes, and I’m willing to stay in Goshen.”

  “You are?”

  “If that’s what it takes? Then I’ll stay. We’ll live here, and we’ll make it work.”

  “But I can’t do that.” Now she rubbed a fist against her chest. It was all coming back. Confessing her feelings to Priscilla, looking up and seeing the truck sail through the light, the split second when she knew they were about to be hit, wondering if that was it—if her life was going to end before she’d known the love of a husband, or the joy of children or the satisfaction of caring for a family.

  “I can’t do that to you. I don’t understand why Gotte put Texas in your heart, but I understand that he did. You wouldn’t be...wouldn’t be the man I know, the man I love, without that ridiculous hat or those silly boots.”

  “You like my boots?” His voice was soft and teasing. The expression in his eyes was anything but.

  Had anyone ever loved her as much as he did?

  Had anyone ever looked at her that way before? She didn’t think so, and the realization of it took her breath away.

  “I want to put my arms around you,” he whispered.

  “But you can’t.” The tears were falling like a cleansing rain now. “I’m all hooked up.” She raised her arm with the IV drip as proof.

  He settled for reclaiming her hand between both of his.

  “Annie, I don’t know the solution to where we’ll live or how or when. I’m not going to lie to you and tell you that I have any of those answers.”

  “That’s not what I want. I don’t want you to lie to me just so I’ll feel better.”

  “The thing is that you’re more important to me than Texas. You’re more important to me than any dream I had before I met you. Gotte replaced that desire of my heart with a better one—something true and lasting.”

  “But you’ll always resent me if we stay here.”

  “I won’t. That’s the miraculous thing, because Texas without you...well, it wouldn’t be worth having.” He scooted forward and thumbed the tears from her face. “Do you believe me?”

  “Ya. I do.”

  “So will you?”

  “Will I what?”

  “Will you marry me, Annie Kauffmann? I can’t imagine a better Christmas gift than your saying yes.”

  “I made you a wool scarf.”

  “Did you now?”

  “It’s blue, like the wildflowers in Texas.”

  “Which reminds me of something.” He jumped up, retrieved his coat, and handed her a snow globe.

  She shook it, gazed at the bluebonnets and the snow, thought of Christmas and what did and didn’t make it perfect. It was the people in your life that mattered. It was having those that loved you near, and it didn’t really matter what state you lived in, only that you were there for one another.

  She shook it again and then raised her eyes to meet his. “It’s beautiful.”

  “You’re beautiful.”

  “Have you been carrying this around in your pocket?”

  “Jebediah fetched it from my place. I wanted to have it here, for when you woke up. I wanted to make you smile at Christmas.”

  The tears began to slip down her cheeks.

  “Will you be my bride and have my children and share my dreams and trials and all of my tomorrows?”

  “I will.”

  “Then the rest we’ll figure out.” He stood, leaned over her bed and kissed her softly on the lips.

  The ache in her chest disappeared.

  The tears stopped.

  The fear she’d been harboring evaporated.

  And all that was left was the certainty that whatever they faced in the future, wherever they faced it, they’d do so together.

  Epilogue

  Three years later

  Annie picked Eli up out of his crib and carried him to the front porch. An east wind was blowing, cooling the Texas afternoon. She sat in the rocker and watched Levi walk across the field toward home.

  He bounded up the front porch steps, kissed her on the lips and then kissed the top of Eli’s head.

  “Did he just wake up?”

  “He did.”

  “So he probably won’t go down until late.”

 

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