Wreathed in Joy: An Amish Christmas Wedding Story

By Kathleen Fuller

An Amish Christmas Wedding story from bestselling author Kathleen Fuller.

Mary Wengerd and Jakob Mullet have been best friends since childhood. Pressured by friends and family, they decided to date—with disastrous results. When they break up, their friendship is ruined. A year later, Mary is baking her Englisch friend’s wedding and groom cakes for a Christmas Eve wedding. Mary loves the Christmas season, and had always dreamed of marrying during that time. Now she wonders if she’ll ever marry. After she and Jakob form a tenuous new friendship, Mary breaks her arm. As he steps in to help her with the cakes, Mary is inexplicably and suddenly falling for him. But they've already dated, and that ended so horribly. Could it be better this time?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Zondervan
• Release date: Oct 12, 2021
• ISBN: 9780310361435

Kathleen Fuller

With over two million copies sold, Kathleen Fuller is the USA TODAY bestselling author of several bestselling novels, including the Hearts of Middlefield novels, the Middlefield Family novels, the Amish of Birch Creek series, and the Amish Letters series as well as a middle-grade Amish series, the Mysteries of Middlefield. Visit her online at KathleenFuller.com; Instagram: @kf_booksandhooks; Facebook: @WriterKathleenFuller; X: @TheKatJam.

Book preview

title page

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Contents

Dedication

Prologue

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

Epilogue

Discussion Questions

Acknowledgments

Glossary

About the Author

Copyright

Dedication

To James Fuller. I love you.

Prologue

Mary Wengerd lowered herself onto a wooden park bench as flakes of snow floated around her. She shivered, then glanced up at the dusky sky. It was way too cold to be sitting outside in this weather, but she couldn’t go back home. Not until she talked to Jakob.

This had been their favorite spot to meet ever since they were young children. The small park was within walking distance of both their homes in Middlefield, but right now it was empty of visitors. That didn’t surprise her. Who would be enjoying a park on a freezing December evening two days before Christmas?

Sighing, she rose and started to pace. Although she wore her warmest coat, boots, gloves, and tights—her muffler tucked tightly around her neck and her bonnet securely over her kapp—she was still cold, more so on the inside than out. Her stomach turned. She’d been dreading talking to Jakob all day. But she couldn’t put off this conversation any longer.

Mary.

She turned at Jakob’s familiar deep voice, and for some strange reason she remembered the day she noticed it was changing. One day when they were both fourteen and the best of friends—which their other friends thought was odd, though that had never mattered to either of them—his voice had squeaked while reciting his English homework to the class. She was the only student who hadn’t laughed. Now that voice was rich and warm, but it didn’t reach her heart. And that was the problem.

"Hi, Jakob. Danki for meeting me here."

He glanced up at the sky, and a few snowflakes caught on his blond eyelashes. "It’s not a gut night for meeting here," he murmured.

I didn’t realize it was going to snow when I left a message asking you to come. She sat back down on the bench, and Jakob joined her. She assumed he would reach for one of her hands to hold, just as he had so many times before. But this time he didn’t. He wasn’t even looking at her.

I’ve got something to tell you, they said at the same time, then looked at each other. Mary was sure his surprised expression mirrored her own.

You do? she asked.

He nodded, now staring at the ground. Snow was gathering on his broad shoulders, dusting his coat with white powder. "But you geh first."

"You can geh," she said, eager for the few minutes’ respite even though she had no idea what he was going to tell her.

You’re the one who wanted to meet. He glanced at her, and she didn’t see the usual twinkle in his dark-gray eyes. The combination of gray and blond was unique, and she’d never seen a man who looked quite like Jakob.

She pulled her gaze away from him, forcing herself to focus, then said a quick prayer before taking a deep breath. I don’t think we should date anymore, she blurted.

He slumped against the bench. That’s such a relief.

Her head snapped back to look at him. What?

Jakob waved his hand. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. But even in the dimming light of sunset, she could see the relief in his eyes. It’s just . . . Well, I was going to say the same thing.

You were? She felt a flash of hurt at his words even though she knew she was doing the right thing. If you were unhappy with how it’s been between us, Jakob Mullet, why didn’t you say something sooner?

Why didn’t you?

"Because I didn’t want to hurt yer feelings." She angled her body on the bench so she could look at him directly.

"I didn’t want to hurt yers either. He paused. Have I?"

She wasn’t about to admit she’d felt that quick flash of rejection. This was what she wanted. "Of course not. I just find it seltsam that we’re on the same page."

For once. He blew out a breath, and a cloudy puff hung in the air. It seems like we haven’t been on the same page ever since we started dating.

She nodded. Six months ago, after years of friendship and encouragement from their friends and family, they’d begun a new relationship. But dating Jakob had never felt right. It felt forced, and nothing romantic had developed between them other than holding hands. Just the thought of kissing him—a show of affection neither had pursued—unsettled her. This wasn’t what love was supposed to be like, and it got to the point where she’d started to dread being with him. That had never been the case before. "I miss mei friend," she said, half to him and half to herself.

Me too. Our relationship was easier when we were just friends. He rubbed his bare hands over his pants legs, then stuck them in the pockets of his coat. We shouldn’t have listened to everyone telling us we were meant to be a couple.

They never understood our relationship.

Exactly. He looked at her, then rubbed his thumb over her cheek. Snowflake, he said before jamming his hand back into his pocket.

And this was a prime example. Shouldn’t she have felt something when he touched her cheek? Shouldn’t she have butterflies in her stomach? Shouldn’t she want him to move nearer, put his arm around her, and draw her close? But she didn’t want any of that, and it was a blessing he felt the same way.

Still . . .

"Where do we geh from here?" she asked.

Back to the way things were, I guess. He got up from the bench. "I don’t know about