For a moment, Levi forgot his self-loathing. Anger at his dad welled up inside him. If it hadn't been for Dad, Levi wouldn't have been so reckless, wouldn't have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. If Dad were still around, none of this would have happened.

But rage at his dad couldn't hold Levi for long. He knew precisely where to lay the blame. Oh, how he hated himself for what he had done! The despair engulfed him. Now Rebecca hated him too. There were no words of comfort that would sway her. She despised the very sight of him. How could he bear her contempt?

He had lost her.

He raised his bottle of whiskey in the moonlight. This was the only thing that ever gave him comfort. It dulled the pain enough to let him function, let him forget for a few hours what he was. He eagerly peeled the wrapping off the lid. In his carelessness, he pulled the wrong way, and the sharp foil sliced through his finger. Good. A new pain to dull the old one. He tried to twist off the lid, but it wouldn't budge. No matter. He'd never met a liquor bottle he couldn't open.

Doubling his efforts, he grasped the bottle tightly, but his hand slipped around the lid as if it were greased.

Growling, he took a deep breath and contemplated bashing the thing with a rock, when a glint of light on the river caught his eye. A cloudless night in Wisconsin in December was rare, and the moon glowed unhindered in the sky, bathing the frosty water in a sparkling glow. Momentarily captivated by the brilliance, he gazed out over the water, and Rebecca's bright eyes seemed to appear in the reflection. He heard her voice.

"Jesus will carry it for you if you give it to Him."

"It's my burden, Rebecca, not His."

"Everything is His burden."

He wished he could believe it. He wanted to believe it with all his heart. But how could God ever love, ever forgive him? He tapped a knuckle between his eyebrows in an attempt to drum Rebecca's voice out of his head.

"Can a woman forget her sucking child? ...yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee. Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands."

Levi didn't know how that Scripture found its way into his brain, but he heard it again and again. Focusing his eyes across the river, he pictured Jesus standing on the other side with His arms outstretched.

"I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands."

What did that mean?

In a flash of insight, Levi knew exactly what it meant. The Lord had paid a high price for sinners like him. Anyone could see the price if they looked at His hands.

Rebecca's voice rang inside his head like a bell.

"There are no lost causes."

Just look at the hands.

He felt as if he were standing on the railroad tracks as a train came full speed and bowled him over. The weight of his life, his mistakes, hit him and threw him into an imaginary brick wall. Unable to support himself, he groped his way to the nearest tree and wrapped his arm around it.

Bowing his head and letting the grief overcome him, he wept, spilling out tears with every emotion he had buried deep.

That poor girl. Her death threw countless lives tossing and rolling in its wake: her family, her friends, his old friend Derek who was with him in the car that night, his family, Rebecca, his own.... Tonight, more than ever, the weight of consequences crushed him. How could Jesus ever lift it? It was too heavy.

"Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest."

He moaned in exhaustion, his strength spent.

Levi looked down through tear-filled eyes. He still had the bottle. Again he tried to unscrew the lid. This time it opened with ease. He tipped the bottle upside down and poured out every drop. The whiskey sloshed and splashed on the rocks.

It was time to let God, not the liquor, take control of his life.

The sharp rocks of the riverbank cut into his skin as he fell to his knees.

"Dear God," he said, tears still streaking down his face, "I think I'm ready for a rest."

Early the next morning, Rebecca stepped out on the front porch to attempt to sweep with one hand. She looked down.

A single red rose lay on the welcome mat at her feet.

Her heart drummed a wild cadence as she looked down her driveway and across the pasture. Not a sign of him. The disappointment almost overwhelmed her.

She picked up the rose, closed her eyes, and stroked her cheek with the soft petals. She stopped herself before she put the flower to her nose. How could she ever think about accepting a gift from him?

She crushed the rose until it fell apart in her hand then cast the petals onto the snowdrift in front of her porch.

Her hand smelled like rose milk the rest of the day.

Chapter Thirty-Two.

Levi crunched through the snow in heavy boots with two full pails of milk. His breath hung on the air as he paused between the barn and the house to savor the quiet stillness of dusk on Christmas evening. It had started snowing early in the morning as the houseful of guests stirred from sleep. Flakes heavy enough to catch on his tongue still drifted to the ground as he stood gazing at the frosted windows of the house. A white Christmas-like the ones he remembered from his childhood.

On a day like this, Dat would hitch Beauty to the sleigh and they would glide around the snowy lanes to the pond for some ice-skating. Levi's cheeks would grow numb and bright red before Mom made him bundle up in the sleigh and Dat drove them to Mammi's house for Christmas dinner.

Levi and his mom had moved into the dawdi house almost a week ago. Relatives by the buggy-ful came to their apartment to help them move out, while a houseful of more relatives greeted them at their new place to help them settle in. The dawdi house was attached to the main house. It had two bedrooms and a nice, big living area with a complete kitchen.

Today, Mammi's house was nicely crammed from cellar to attic with out-of-town visitors-Mom's sisters Barbara and Eva and their husbands, plus Uncle Jonas with his family, and, ach, too many cousins to count.

Surely they made up half the population of Amish people in Wisconsin.

That morning after breakfast, the uncles and cousins went sledding on the big hill beyond Mammi and Dawdi's pasture. Levi took several of the little cousins for rides down the hill. Cousin Rachel, who was four, would go only if Levi sat behind her, held on tight, and dragged his feet in the snow the whole way down.

Rachel reminded Levi of Rebecca. Rebecca would hate sledding.

Thinking of Rebecca always left Levi panting for air. He closed his eyes and waited for the raw pain to subside. Thoughts of her swirled in his brain constantly, rendering him unable to sleep or eat or carry on a coherent conversation.

The look in her eyes last week on the ski hill was riveted to his memory. Her rejection was a pocketknife right to the gut.

She wishes I had died instead of Dottie Mae.

The cruelty of her declaration struck Levi as if Rebecca were standing right there and saying those words to him again. His legs shook. He placed his milk pails on the ground and knelt in the ankle-deep snow. The wet cold crept up his legs and into his heart.

He wished the tears didn't come so easily. He bowed his head and whispered a prayer. "Lord, please help me get through this. And please let Rebecca heal. She deserves to be happy."

He knelt there motionless with tears streaming down his face, trying to lift his vision to heaven, until his knees throbbed and his teeth chattered with cold. He swiped away the tears, stumbled to his feet, and picked up his pails, determined that his troubles wouldn't ruin his first Amish Christmas in fifteen years.

The first for many years to come, Lord willing.

Because in spite of it all, Levi knew he wanted to be baptized. That night at the river, faced with the reality of losing Rebecca, his heart changed and he found another, better motivation. A permanent Rockof-Ages reason to give his life to God.

Levi poured the milk into the large metal container sitting outside the back door and then went inside, leaving his boots on the rug in the mudroom.

Mammi, Aunt Barbara, Levi's sister, Beth, and five older cousins bustled around the kitchen preparing a Christmas feast. Beth had come from school to spend Christmas with them, and even though she was in her Englisch clothes, she seemed to fit in perfectly with her Amish relatives. She chopped carrots while chatting merrily to Mammi about her time at the university.

Mom sat in the corner with her eyes shining and her hands clasped below her chin. While the family included her in what they could, certain formalities of shunning would still be observed for another few weeks. She didn't seem to mind being excluded from the food preparation.

When she caught sight of Levi, she leaped from her stool and came to him.

"Oh, Levi, isn't this wonderful-gute? Mammi made stollen and pecan pie. And you should see the size of the turkey in the cookstove."

She squeezed his hand and smiled so big that Levi could see the little girl she used to be. At times like this, his heartache evaporated. Levi had never seen his mother so radiant.

Mammi, with a dot of flour on her cheek, pulled a plate of pickles and olives from the fridge. "It's high time to wash up, Levi. Dinner will be ready in two shakes of a lamb's tail."

Levi helped Onkel Titus and the cousins move the big furniture out of the front room and set up two columns of long tables and benches. The older girl cousins spread silky tablecloths over the tables and arranged tall candles and pine greenery down the centers.

Mammi pulled out the good china, and the tables soon looked like something Levi would have seen in Better Homes and Gardens magazine.

The food measured up to the festive table. After silent grace, Mammi and the aunts brought out platters and bowls piled high with turkey, chestnut stuffing, corn, green beans with bacon, rolls, pickles, and olives. Mammi's fluted, long-stemmed glasses were filled with a layered pudding dessert that made Levi's mouth water just looking at it. There were at least five varieties of cookies and Mammi's special Christmas punch.

Levi, Beth, and Mom sat at the end of the table, an arrangement that seemed to satisfy everyone's requirement for shunning, even though the relatives talked to Mom as much as anybody else.

Levi sat in amused silence and listened to several conversations at once. There was a great deal of teasing cousin Eliza about a new boy she was seeing. Toby showed the cousins sitting next to him the scrape he got while sledding this morning, and the middle-aged men talked about what they always talked about: the weather and farming.

Beth was admiring the new work boots Dawdi received for Christmas. "They look sturdy," she said.

"They'll do," Dawdi said. "I'm partial to my old boots, but they is ruined."

Mammi laughed and nudged Beth with her elbow. "His own fault."

"I greased them up gute and put them in the cookstove for a quick dry," Dawdi said.

"He forgot about them," said Mammi. She tapped a finger to her forehead. "Memory's going, ya know."

Dawdi harrumphed and thumbed his suspenders. "I am still as sharp as a tack, Nancy. It just went out of my mind, is all. Next morning I got up and lit a fire and them boots was burned to a crisp."

Everyone laughed, and Dawdi cracked a smile. "It wasn't all bad. I got a new pair of boots." He lifted his foot in an attempt to show off his gift and almost tumbled backward. Beth and Eliza steadied him before he picked up his fork and took a healthy bite of stuffing.

After dinner, the school-aged grandchildren presented the Christmas story. King Herod's scepter looked suspiciously like one of Mammi's spatulas, and "the Mother Mary" became "the Motho Mawy" because Annie couldn't say her Rs. Levi loved every minute of it.

After the presentation, the family sang their favorite Christmas songs. The Christmas spirit permeated the very air, and Levi didn't hear a sour note in the bunch. Singing must have been a genetic inheritance of the Amish.

When strains of "The First Noel" died away, Dawdi, who'd sat perfectly still in his plump recliner, slapped his knee. "Let's bundle up and go a-caroling to the shut-ins. They ain't nothing that would make them so happy as to hear us sing."

"Caroling is for die youngie," Onkel Titus said. "John can take them around to the shut-ins, and we can eat a piece of pie while they are gone."

Dawdi sank back into his chair. "Do you have pumpkin, Nancy?"

"With real whipped cream," Mammi said.

Dawdi nodded. "I'll wait here."

Just like this morning, getting out the door proved to be a huge production. Each caroler needed a hat and gloves, coat and boots. They finally made it outside and down the lane with John leading the way. Levi held hands with his nine-year-old cousin, Sissy, until she stubbed her toe on a rock. Then he lifted her for a piggyback ride, singing and laughing all the way down the road.

Levi paid no attention to where they were going until they stopped in front of a house with a long driveway and a bright red barn with white trim. Of course they'd come here; Rebecca's mother was a shut-in. His heart sank to his toes and did a tap dance at the same time. He hadn't laid eyes on Rebecca since the ski trip last week. He'd been to her house every day to leave a rose on her porch but hadn't been fortunate enough to even catch a glimpse of her.

Once he and Mom moved into the dawdi house, Levi looked for Rebecca everywhere. He went to a gathering when he heard that she would attend, only to be heartbroken when she left as soon as she caught sight of him.

The Petersheim cousins, oblivious to Levi's history with Rebecca, trekked through the deep snow covering the Millers' sidewalk and tromped up to Rebecca's porch en masse. Levi momentarily hung back. Would Rebecca's fater see this visit as a broken promise? Would Levi ruin Rebecca's Christmas by showing up at her house? Or would she see him and remember the gute times they had together?

Small red circles dotted the snow in front of Rebecca's house.

Rose petals, no doubt from the rose he had delivered early this morning, were strewn about like a handful of chicken feed tossed into the snow. He swung Sissy to the ground and pretended to ignore the hurt that bubbled up inside him.

He'd seen it before-rose petals from the previous day's rose when he came to deliver the next one. But tonight, on Christmas, the sting of rejection felt especially acute.

Levi found himself standing on the porch but couldn't remember moving his feet to get there. He melted in behind John and Ize, not sure if he wanted to be seen. He didn't think he could endure the contempt in Rebecca's eyes.

One of the cousins knocked, and they began to sing "Away in a Manger." Danny threw open the door and stood listening with a wide grin on his face. Soon Linda joined him, and Max and Rebecca were close behind. Rebecca's arm was still in a sling. Levi winced.

Like a sophisticated radar device, Rebecca zeroed in on Levi immediately, as if he were the only one standing on the porch. She hadn't been smiling in the first place, but her frown deepened when she saw him, and she quickly averted her eyes. He held his breath, glued his gaze to her face, and drank in her features like a very thirsty man. She looked thin and pale and ten years older. Her eyes held none of the light that had reeled him in from the first day he met her. Still, she was the most beautiful girl he had ever known. His heart broke again and again as he stood there. Would she ever forgive him? Could he ever hope to win her back?

The thought of the accident no longer brought him to his knees. Jesus had taken his pain away. And if he had forgiven himself, surely she would forgive him too. Wasn't that what the Amish did best?

After one verse of the song, Rebecca's mother appeared at the door. "Cum reu, all of you, and get warm. How thoughtful of you to come and see me."

Rebecca's mamm ushered all seventeen of them into the front room, where a fire blazed merrily in the hearth and pine boughs decked the mantel and door frames. The house smelled of cinnamon and apple cider.

Rebecca's mamm squeezed Levi's hand as he stepped over the threshold. "Welcome into the community, Levi Cooper. We are very glad to have you back." She winked at him and half smiled. She knew what an uphill battle this was going to be.

Both Max and Linda caught sight of Levi. Max furrowed his brow and looked away. Linda turned red in confusion and busied herself by stoking the fire.

Rebecca's fater sauntered into the room and frowned when his eyes met Levi's. His response almost perfectly mirrored Rebecca's. They both refused to look at him and surveyed their guests with expressionless faces, as if they were reading some dull newspaper article. But Levi could see the tension in Rebecca's shoulders and hands as she stood against the wall and pressed her good fist into it, as if it would fall over if she relaxed.

"Levi!" Danny opened his arms wide and threw himself at Levi. At least he had one ally in the Miller family.

"Hey, Danny."

"We have missed you so much." He looked at his sister for confirmation, but Rebecca studied the floor intently. Danny motioned for Levi to lean closer. "Rebecca said you weren't ever going to come back, but I wish you would. Rebecca misses you something terrible even though she never says your name ever."

Levi swallowed hard and tried not to let a spark of hope ignite. Better to be cautious with his deepest desires. "Thanks, Danny. I miss you too. And I really miss Rebecca."