An Unexpected Christmas Gift Read online

  © 2019 by Kate Lloyd

  Published by Bethany House Publishers

  11400 Hampshire Avenue South

  Bloomington, Minnesota 55438

  www.bethanyhouse.com

  Bethany House Publishers is a division of

  Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan

  www.bakerpublishinggroup.com

  Ebook edition created 2020

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

  ISBN 978-1-4934-1893-0

  Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the authors’ imaginations and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design by Dan Thornberg, Design Source Creative Services

  Author is represented by MacGregor Literary, Inc.

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  Recipes

  About the Author

  Back Ad

  To Kathleen Kohler

  CHAPTER ONE

  The moment I saw the sign for Miller’s Quilts and Gifts through the onslaught of snow, my throat constricted as if I’d swallowed a handful of salt. I jammed on the brakes, but the car glided through the white flurry, slid into a ditch, and came to rest with a metallic crunch against a fence.

  My brain spun with uncertainty, as if I’d gotten onto a roller coaster ride and changed my mind. But it was too late to turn around and drive back home to Hartford, Connecticut. This car wasn’t going anywhere until I called a tow truck. I cut the engine.

  At least the airbag hadn’t inflated, making it possible to move. But when I reached for the door handle, I shouldered the door without success. I was trapped.

  The snow fell so quickly that my windshield was soon covered with a blanket of white. The setting sun cast a gray shadow. What on earth was I doing here? Who in their right mind would travel to Lancaster County on the day before Christmas Eve?

  Me, apparently. Because I wasn’t planning to celebrate Christmas. Ever again. Not since my sister and I took our DNA tests and found out we weren’t related in any way, flipping my world upside down.

  We’d gone to our father, as our mother had died two years earlier. The corner of his mouth had lifted a skosh. “Uh . . . we adopted you, Maria. I’d wanted a boy, but your mother said it was too late to change our minds. And then she got pregnant with Trish four years later.”

  My sister and I looked at each other with new eyes. I recalled her as a toddler and remembered my mother’s jubilation as they decorated her nursery. “I’m just like Hannah in the Bible,” Mom had said years later. “God answered my prayers.” Her hand moved to the nape of her neck. “He answered them—twice.”

  I heard a knock on my window, saw a man’s glove swipe across it. “Are you okay?” came his muffled words. “Unlock the door.”

  I fumbled to unlock it as a hefty form tugged at the door and pulled it open past snow-covered grasses.

  “Kumm.” He was Amish, dressed the way I’d seen in books and movies, but never in real life. He assisted me in escaping my dungeon.

  “Oh! Thank you so much.” With the wind whipping particles of snow into my eyes, I squinted at the shop’s sign, way down a fence-lined lane and what looked to be an impossibly long distance. “I need to go to the quilt shop.”

  “It’s not open, but the owners live next door.” Snow accumulated on his black felt hat and shoulders. “It’s five o’clock and tomorrow is Christmas Eve.”

  “Yes, I know, but that’s where I’m headed.” I’d have to check the damage to my car later. “Will you help me?”

  “Yah, of course.”

  When I stood, I found my legs shaky. The man, who looked to be in his upper twenties like me, took my elbow and helped me climb out of the ditch. I chided myself for thinking I could drive my Toyota in the snow. But the weatherman hadn’t predicted this humongous accumulation.

  A gust of wind blew the man’s hat off, and he bent to retrieve it. After a shake, he set it squarely on his head.

  There wasn’t another vehicle in sight. I felt chill air invading my clothing. “Wait, maybe I should call a tow truck first.”

  “I doubt you’ll get help tonight.” He straightened his hat, but the wind threatened to toss it away again. “My friend and I can assist you tomorrow.”

  “Really? I heard Amish don’t drive.”

  “My friend’s Mennonite, so he can.”

  “Oh, okay.” But where would I sleep? I’d planned to find a cheap motel room in town. Well, I’d come this far and would not be deterred. As the sky darkened, I was losing sight of the quilt shop. I couldn’t afford to wait any longer. I took a step and felt icy snow creeping over the tops of my socks.

  He proffered a hand. “The snow’s deep, so you best let me give you support.”

  “Nah, I’m fine.” A moment later I lost my balance, but he caught me in midair.

  “Thanks again,” I said, even though Mom taught me never to trust strangers. Wait, she hadn’t even been my mother. How could I believe her words of advice?

  “What’s your name?” I asked, my words muted by a gust of wind.

  “Isaac Stoltfuz. You want to borrow my coat?”

  “No, that’s okay.” I should have thought to wear warmer clothes.

  “And what’s yours?”

  Did I want to tell a stranger anything about myself? A first name couldn’t hurt anything. “Maria.” I looked around expecting to spot his buggy but saw nothing. I’d heard the Amish used horses and buggies, and I wouldn’t mind getting a look at one. But evidently he was on foot.

  I started my trudge toward the sign for the quilt shop and saw a spacious home. A hurricane lamp in a window cast yellow light across the white lawn. Now that I thought about it, there were no streetlights leading up to the house, and the sky was draining of color.

  “Change your mind?” Isaac asked.

  I hadn’t realized I’d slowed my pace. I sped up. “No, the quilt shop is my destination.”

  “Like I said, it’s closed tonight. But it’s next to the Millers’ home.”

  “Okay.” I headed for the house’s front door, but he beckoned me around to the back past a barn. We crossed the barnyard and climbed the back stairs to a small porch. He rapped on the door, then stomped his feet.

  The door swung open. “Isaac,” said an Amish woman who looked to be in her early twenties. She wore a calf-length dress, a black bib apron, a white heart-shaped organza head covering, and an expectant grin. She grabbed his arm and pulled him inside. “What a lovely surprise.”

  “Hullo, Nancy. I’m not coming in but for a moment. I brought a stranger named Maria.”

  “Oh?” Nancy’s smile flattened. “What are you doing out on such a greislich night, Isaac?”

  “Looking for Mamm’s favorite goat.” He glanced at me. “I was just about to give up when I noticed Maria’s car skidding into the ditch out front. It looks like the bumper and fender are dented, but there’s no way to tell in that snow.”


  The corners of her mouth angling down, Nancy gave me a good look-over. “Probably driving too fast.”

  “No, I wasn’t,” I said through the snowflakes. “As a matter of fact, I was trying to slow down, but my car kept going.”

  “Because you were driving too fast.”

  No use arguing with her when in fact I’d been creeping along, all the while second-guessing myself. I shouldn’t have acted so impulsively to begin with. No matter my hurt feelings.

  “You best come in.” She frowned at my soaked Adidas. “Please stomp your feet first.” I glanced down at my snow-covered shoes and realized she was right.

  The ambrosia of baking breads beckoned us forward as Isaac and I followed her through a dimly lit hallway. We passed a utility room with an old-fashioned wringer washer and then a small sink by a closed door. Nancy opened the door, and I found myself inside a beautiful kitchen, not what I expected of an Amish home. I’d heard they didn’t use electricity.

  Nancy pointed to a towel on the floor and told me I could leave my shoes there. Fair enough, no need to get their linoleum wet. But still, I felt unwelcome. I’d never been more out of my element.

  I scanned the room, expecting to see Christmas decorations. A few fir-tree sprigs perched on a shelf. Huh? I guessed the Christmas tree was in the living room. My gaze latched on to muffins on a cooling rack, and two loaves of bread sitting on the counter were emitting a luscious aroma. I hadn’t eaten for hours, and my stomach growled with hunger.

  Nancy introduced me to her mother, Naomi, and her younger sister, Anna. Both women, dressed the same as Nancy, gawked at me but seemed friendly. Naomi insisted I join them for supper. “We’ve got plenty of sliced ham, cold meat loaf, cheeses, pickled beets, and applesauce.” She turned to her daughters. “What’s keeping you, girls? Set the table and slice the bread. Your Dat will be in from the barn in five minutes. He’s been working all day and the table isn’t even ready.”

  “I’d best be going.” Isaac repositioned his hat.

  “Please stop back again soon,” Nancy said.

  “Yah, okay.” His gaze caught mine for a moment and then he looked away, but not before I noticed his sky blue eyes and clean-shaven chin. Even with a hat and long bangs, he was good-looking. No wonder Nancy obviously had a crush on him. But he didn’t seem to notice or was purposely ignoring her when he wished us all a good night. I listened to his departing footsteps and hoped he really would come back and help me with my car. I didn’t belong to AAA or have towing coverage in my driver’s insurance. I doubted I had enough money in the bank to cover the deductible if my car was damaged. Thank goodness I’d paid off my credit card.

  “Where are you headed tonight?” Naomi asked me. “Last-minute shopping?”

  Nancy lifted her chin. “We closed our store early because of the snow, but I suppose I could walk over there with you. Eventually one of us will have to lock it up.”

  “Uh, sure. Thanks.” I felt my cheeks warming. “The truth is—and I really am so sorry to bother you—but I guess this house is my destination.”

  “Why on earth?” Naomi asked.

  Before I could answer, the back door opened and a man’s deep voice spoke to Isaac. More stomping of boots, and then the door closed with a thud. The young women sped into action, like synchronized swimmers: one wiped down the rectangle table covered with a red-and-white-checkered vinyl cloth, while the other brought out plates, cutlery, and napkins. Naomi placed the items around the table. I noticed there were five places, meaning she was including me, for which I was grateful. I should have brought a snack to nibble on as I drove or stopped at a café along the way.

  I heard running water just outside the kitchen; I assumed someone was washing their hands. The water snapped off, then the kitchen door blasted open, bringing with it a gust of frigid air. A burly, bearded man entered, wearing a stern expression that told me he was fatigued and not in the mood for chitchat. Wearing a hat and slippers, he must have shed his jacket and boots in the back hallway.

  Naomi introduced the man. “This is my husband, Silas.” Nancy and Anna remained silent. Were they afraid of their father or was their behavior for my benefit?

  Without looking my way, he removed his hat and hung it on a wooden peg.

  Naomi’s voice was filled with delight. “Looks like we have a dinner guest tonight. Silas, this is Maria. What did you say your last name was?”

  I purposely hadn’t. “Um—Romano.” What could it hurt?

  “Italian?” Silas was obviously not impressed.

  “Yes.” I ran my fingers through my damp shoulder-length hair and found a tangle.

  “Her car slid off the road, and she’s got nowhere else to go,” Naomi said. “We can’t turn her away in this storm.”

  Silas’s tense features softened. “I suppose not.”

  Nancy sliced cooling bread, and the other sister arranged ham and cheese on platters, and then scooped beets, condiments, and applesauce into dishes. As I watched them, I observed an eerie family resemblance to myself. How could I have been so stupid all these years? My father had dark brown eyes and hair, and Mom’s hair wasn’t much lighter. My hair was caramel-colored and my eyes blue.

  Minutes later, we all bent our heads as Silas led us in a silent prayer from his end of the table. I guessed God could hear my thoughts, but He certainly hadn’t answered my prayers. If anything, He’d tossed me into a sinkhole.

  Mom died of ovarian cancer two years ago; Dad had rushed into a new marriage with a woman who had no interest in getting to know me. I found out my boyfriend was cheating on me three months back. Then I’d been canned at the library—replaced by technology. Since losing my job, I’d been living off my savings, which were shrinking.

  Why had I studied philosophy in college when I knew I couldn’t make a living from it? I’d been replaced by a computer at the library—not that I’d earned the required master’s degree to become a real librarian. Much as I loved reading, returning to college to earn my master’s held no appeal. But my future was bleak without a good-paying job. I felt defeated.

  Finally, Silas cleared his throat—a guttural sound—and all heads raised. Arms reached out to spoon food onto plates and silverware clattered. I grabbed a muffin, tore it in half, and slathered it with butter.

  Still, there was no conversation until Naomi said, “You never did finish telling us what you’re doing in this area, Maria.”

  I hesitated as I tried to decide whether to reveal the truth. But it was too late to turn back. “I took a DNA test and found out that I’m possibly related to someone in this room.”

  Silas sputtered into laughter. “You’ve been reading too many Amish romance novels.”

  “No, I haven’t.” But I wished I’d read something about the Amish. My mother had always discouraged me from visiting this area or reading what she called “fluffy Amish romance.”

  Naomi looked up at me with interest, but Nancy’s head remained bent, not looking at either of her parents.

  Naomi gave her head a shake. “I can promise you I haven’t taken a DNA test, nor will I ever.”

  “Nancy and Anna?” Silas’s voice turned harsh. “Is there something you want to tell us?”

  “Nee, don’t force me, Dat.” Nancy buried her hands in her lap. “It’ll only make you mad.”

  Naomi’s eyes widened. “Nancy, if you’ve done something sinful, you must come clean.”

  Nancy’s face scrunched up. “Please, Mamm.”

  Silas bolted to his feet, his large hands resting on the table, supporting his weight. “I can tell that you’re lying, so spit it out.”

  Nancy blinked several times. “Four years ago, when I turned sixteen and went into my Rumspringa, some Englisch friends and I got on a computer at Troy Bennett’s family’s furniture store. We went on a website where they trace your DNA.”

  “But why on earth would you do that? Do you not believe that you’re Amish through and through?”

  “Yah, but I thou
ght it would be fun.”

  “And what did you find out?” Silas leaned forward.

  “Just what you said. I’m Amish. Our ancestors came from Switzerland.”

  Silas thudded back onto his chair. “I do not approve of this in any way, but I suppose it has harmed no one.”

  “Except me.” As the words sprang from my mouth, all heads turned in my direction.

  CHAPTER TWO

  I gulped a mouthful of water to give me time to gather my courage, then spoke to Naomi. No way could I look into Silas’s penetrating stare.

  “Like I said, I took a DNA test recently that directed me to a furniture shop, which led me here.” I wouldn’t mention the guy I’d spoken to, for fear of starting a dispute.

  “I will not listen to this.” Silas rapped the table with his spoon handle. “How dare you insinuate my wife—I can’t even say it.”

  Naomi’s face grew pale. “Never, ever would I be unfaithful to you, Silas.”

  “Hush, we mustn’t speak of personal matters in front of a stranger.”

  Naomi sliced the meat loaf and served Silas first, then sat and passed the platter around the table. “Our daughters could be Maria’s cousin, certainly not her sister.”

  “Since when do you know so much about DNA testing?”

  “I’ve read about it in the newspaper. It’s all the rage in the Englisch world. Ancestry.com and 23 and Me. Nothing I’ve ever contemplated or ever would.”

  Silas balled his fist. “We are admonished to stay apart from the Englisch world.”

  “If you like, I’ll confess to the whole congregation. But I know many women who scan the newspaper when they’re in Walmart.”

  “Two wrongs don’t make a right.” Silas glared at her, then his daughters. “Don’t you realize my position as a minister? I’m supposed to set a good example for the rest of the district.”

  “It’s all my fault.” Nancy stared at her plate. “I knew I was sinning and hanging out with the wrong crowd. I figured it was a chance to use a computer before I get baptized. . . .” Her voice sounded strangled. “I never should have given the furniture store’s number as a way to contact me.”