A Time to Heal

7



Hannah stood at the kitchen sink washing dishes as she looked out the window at the men working in the field.

Well, if she were honest, she watched one man—Chris.

Her eyes found him easily in the midst of the men in the field since he wore Englisch clothes. Although it was obvious that he didn't have the experience with this kind of farming that the other men did, she'd seen him working hard, taking a break only when the other men did.

Matthew had spoken of what being injured, being exposed to so much horror in war zones had done to Jenny. Hannah watched Chris stretch and bend to work again and wondered about the scars on his back, what had caused them. How he'd felt when he'd been hurt. If he suffered any long-term effects from his injuries as Jenny had.

He was a handsome man, this Englischer who seemed to come at just the right time when Matthew needed him. Helping Matthew had cut short his vacation, but he'd said he was taking some time for himself and he hadn't seemed in any hurry to leave.

And Paradise wasn't going anywhere. It had been here for a long time and would be here long after them. Some of the tourists said it seemed like a place out of time, like Brigadoon.Hannah didn't know what that meant. She'd never heard of the town.

She loved it here. Though she knew some of her friends had felt the need for a rumschpringe, she hadn't wanted a full-blown rumschpringe. She'd done some of the things they had—gone to a movie in town, experimented with Englisch clothes and makeup, but she felt as happy and content here as her brother did.

The only thing that ever gave her pause was a vague discontent with not having married yet or having kinner of her own.It had surfaced again this autumn at her nephew's birthday celebration at schul, a recent night when she was invited to supper at Matthew and Jenny's house, and at the thought of the weddings planned for after the harvest.

Determined to shove the troublesome thought aside, she wrung out the dishcloth with more force than necessary and vigorously swept it around the sink.

"Ach, that's quite a polish you're putting on the sink," Phoebe observed at her side.

Hannah stopped and stared at the sink. It was spotless. She rinsed the cloth, wrung it out again, and hung it to dry. "You know what they say about idle hands."

"Yours haven't been idle since you got out of the crib."

Laughing, Hannah turned and watched Phoebe set a basket of vegetables on the table. "Shall I make squash casserole tonight?" she asked, gesturing at the vegetables.

But Phoebe had walked over to look out the window over the sink. She turned back to Hannah and raised her brows.

"What?"

"Interesting view," Phoebe remarked as she moved back to the basket of vegetables and began choosing several squash.She took them to the sink, washed them, and then returned to the table with a wooden cutting board and began slicing them.

Hannah looked out the window. She saw the same thing she had for the past few minutes: Chris stood with the other men as they discussed their next task.

"Just men working," she said dismissively. "I think I'll take them some refreshments."

"Sure you don't want me to do that?" Phoebe asked.

She started to respond and then realized that Phoebe wore a puckish smile. "I can do it," she assured her.

Then she stopped. Phoebe had gone white and grasped at the edge of the table.

"Phoebe?"

The older woman blinked and stared at her. "What?"

"Are you all right?" Hannah rushed to her side and set the tray of refreshments down.

"I'm fine, fine." She straightened. "Just got tired there for a minute. I think I'll sit down and chop these."

"You did too much today, didn't you? I knew it would be too much for you to help Sadie."

"I'm not letting my body tell me what to do," Phoebe said firmly. "My spirit tells my body what to do, not the other way around. Why, if it had its way, my body would just stay in bed some days. I'm not taking it easy. That's not my way. It's not our way."

Hannah kissed her cheek. "Sit down before you fall down."

Phoebe gave her a sharp glance. "Don't you be treating me like I'm old."

"I wouldn't dream of it. You can do twice what I can in a day. I'm just saying that you should sit down. I'll be sitting down in a few minutes myself."

Tilting her head to the side to consider that, Phoebe nodded."Then you go take that to the men and I'll fix us some coffee and we'll sit."

"Sounds good." Hannah picked up the tray.

"Since you need it."

Laughing and shaking her head, Hannah walked out of the room.

He got that prickle at the back of his neck again.

Chris stopped working for a moment and spun on his heel to look around. Daniel and Isaac paused, too, and stared at him. He looked past them and saw a buggy parked down by the road. A man sat in it, his face hidden from view within its depths.

A hand touched Chris's shoulder and he jerked and saw that Matthew was standing beside him.

"What?"

"Are you okay?"

Chris cast a glance at the buggy. "Yeah. Sure. Why?"

Matthew looked in the same direction, then back at Chris."Something bothering you?"

"Who is that? Why are they watching us?"

"It's just Josiah," Matthew said, squinting into the sun to see better. "He's probably just curious."

"Curious about what?"

"About what we're doing. He doesn't have much to do these days since he can't farm anymore." He bent his head and looked closely at Chris. "Do you need to take a break?"

"No. I'm fine." He turned back to the task he'd been doing, then remembered his manners. "But thanks."

A few minutes later, when he looked again, the buggy still sat there. Frowning, Chris forced his attention on his work. It's just some old, busy-body guy, he told himself. Let it go.

Working with the other men felt a little like being with his Army buddies. No need to do a lot of talking, especially with these men. At first he wasn't sure if it was because he was the outsider or because they'd all worked together for so long. In any case, they found a rhythm, he and these men, and when one needed something, it took just a look or a word or two and another man appeared to lead the wagon they were loading with hay or soybeans or with one of the vegetable fields that had been planted.

Later, he wondered if he lost it because he'd felt uncomfortable or had been thinking about his military buddies.

Hannah came out of the house with a tray and started toward them, but the buggy caught her attention. She turned and walked toward it and began talking with its occupant. It didn't look like a friendly conversation because she seemed to stiffen, stand up taller, and she shook her head.

Then, when she turned, a man's hand shot out and grasped her arm, stopping her from walking away.

A buzzing began in Chris's ears. He dropped the hay bale in his hands and walked swiftly toward them.

"Let her go!" he called and then he began running. He hadn't been able to stop it last time, but maybe this time he'd get a second chance to make it right. "I said let her go!"

He saw Hannah glance up and look surprised. "Chris? What's the matter?"

All he could see was her being restrained by the man, being pulled into the vehicle. She fought with the man, crying out and hitting him. Her clothes ripped as he relentlessly dragged her toward him, tossing her inside. Chris reached her and pulled her away, shoving her behind him so forcefully that she staggered and fell.

In a haze, he turned to grab the man in the Jeep, but it had turned into a buggy that rolled on down the road.

"Chris! What are you doing?" Hannah cried.

He turned, shaking his head, breathing hard, and saw that she lay on the ground, the contents of the tray she'd been carrying scattered on the ground around her.

"Hannah? Are you okay?" he asked slowly, feeling as though his veins were filled with molasses.

He bent and reached out a hand to her to help her up and frowned when she flinched. "What's the matter? I'm not going to hurt you. I saved you."

"Saved me?" She got to her feet on her own and brushed the pieces of grass from her skirt. "Look what you've done!"

A car approached and pulled into the drive. The passenger door opened and a woman emerged.

"Hannah? Are you all right?"

Chris turned and saw Jenny running toward them.

"He was taking her," he told her. "He was hurting her."

She stopped and stared at him. "Josiah?" Frowning, Jenny touched Hannah's arm. "Josiah was hurting you?"

Hannah stared at Chris. "No," she said. "He wasn't hurting me. Jenny, something's wrong with Chris."

"Chris?"

He shook his head, trying to clear it, and then his stomach sank. "Sorry," he mumbled and he started for the back of the house, toward the dawdi haus.

"Jenny—"

"Let me talk to him."

He felt Jenny's hand on his arm.

"Chris, wait a minute!"

"I'm all right."

"Talk to me."

"It was just a spell. I'm fine, I don't need to talk to anyone."

All he could think about was getting to his room, getting his things, getting out of there. He'd made a fool of himself, scared Hannah, and had everyone staring at him. They all probably thought he was a freak . . . or mentally ill.

She yanked on his arm with more force than he'd have thought she had in her petite form. He tried to continue but he realized he was half-dragging her and from the corner of his eye he saw Matthew running over.

He stopped, but he wouldn't look at her.

"Chris, I know what you're going through—"

"No you don't."

Matthew appeared at his side. "What's wrong?"

"I need to talk to Chris."

"But—"

"Please, I just need a minute."

"Okay," Matthew said finally. "I'll give you a minute. But I'm staying right here."

Jenny waited a moment and then she shook Chris's arm."Look at me. Please?"

He raised his eyes and saw that she looked at him with compassion. "You had a flashback, didn't you?"

"How'd you know?"

"Because I've seen them. I've had them."

Sighing, he ran his hand through his hair. "Haven't had one in months." He glanced over his shoulder. Hannah stared at him and appeared confused. When he looked up at Matthew, he was surprised to see that he was wearing an expression much like his wife's.

"Post-traumatic stress syndrome?"

Surprised, Chris nodded. "You've heard of it? Here?"

Matthew nodded, touched Jenny's shoulder. "Jenny wasn't a soldier like you, but she's had some problems."

"I scared Hannah."

"Go talk to her. She'll understand."

"I don't know how," Chris said. "I don't understand it myself." He took a deep breath.

"Go talk to her."

"Later," Chris mumbled. He pulled open the door. "Later."

As he closed the door behind him, he heard Jenny exclaim, "Men!"

"Hey!" said Matthew.

The door shut out their exchange.

Hannah took a deep breath and then knocked at the door of the dawdi haus.

When no one answered, she knocked again, louder this time.

She heard a thud inside the house and then the door opened.

Chris glared at her, one hand on his hip. "What? Can't a man be left alone?"

"I wanted to make sure you're okay."

"I'm a soldier—was a soldier," he amended. "I can take care of myself."

Taken aback at what he'd said, she searched for something to say. "I'm sure you can," she said at last.

She knew about men who had to look strong, be strong.Matthew was one of them. He'd spent the year before his first wife died being strong for her and their kinner and then grieved so hard for three years after her death, before Jenny had come back into his life.

Since Chris had been a soldier, she supposed it was even more a part of him to be masculine, to be strong physically and emotionally, to not depend on anyone for anything.

"I'm fine."

"Really?" She stared at him. "You don't look fine."

"Well, I am." He started to close the door, then hesitated."Look, I'm sorry I scared you."

"I'm okay. Does that happen often?"

"No, thank God." He sighed. "I thought they were over. I hadn't had one for a long time."

"Come outside and let's talk about it."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"I want to understand, but I shouldn't come inside." She glanced around a little nervously.

He frowned, and then she saw his look of comprehension."Oh, right."

Then he saw her glance go to the backpack on the floor behind him.

"You're leaving?"

He shrugged. "I originally came for just a few days, visiting."

"But Matthew needs your help."

"I don't think I was giving him much help."

He stepped outside and shut the door. She noticed that he looked everywhere but at her.

"There's no need to feel ashamed for what happened," she told him quietly.

His eyes, full of emotion, flashed at her. "Easy for you to say. You didn't lose control. You don't know what it's like to have these things just come out of nowhere."

"You're right."

Shaking his head, he shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the ground. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be taking it out on you. It's bad enough that I scared you."

"I can stand it. I'm hardly delicate."

He looked at her then, an intense look. "My mother always said a man's supposed to treat a woman right. That doesn't include scaring her."

"That's what this is all about, isn't it? What just happened out front. It's because you saw someone who wasn't treating a woman right. Who was she, Chris?"

The shuttered look came into his eyes again. He shrugged."Doesn't matter."

"I think it must matter to have made that kind of impact."She waited but he wasn't forthcoming. "Look, I don't know much about this sort of thing but maybe you should talk about it with someone."

"I did. But no one understood like—" he stopped.

She stopped and frowned as a thought began forming. "Is that why you came here? To talk to Jenny about it?"

His head shot up. "You just have to keep at things, don't you?"

He shook his head. "I don't think I've ever met anyone like you before. You're sure not what I expected an Amish woman to be like—" He stopped. "Wait, that didn't come out the way I meant it to—"

Hannah felt herself stiffening. She knew she could be blunt sometimes. Matthew had told her so on more than one occasion when she offered him advice. But he'd never made it sound like a character flaw.

"I mean, I thought the women here—"

"Were meek and mild and never spoke up?"

"No, well, yes, I mean, no, I—"

"We're not all alike any more than you Englischers are," she told him and she heard a tart tone in her voice. "But I'll apologize if you feel I've intruded."

With that, she spun on her heel and walked away.

"Wait! Hannah! Wait!"

Though she was tall and so her strides were long, he caught up with her in a few steps. He grasped her arm and stopped her.

"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings," he said.

She stared at his hand on her arm, remembering how his touch a couple of days ago sent unexpected feelings coursing through her. "Let go."

He dropped his hand. "I'm sorry. But I can't chase you across the yard."

Her eyes swept his form as his words made her curious about his injuries. She wondered again how the skin on his back had been scarred. Jenny had said she'd met him in the veteran's hospital but that's all she knew. She had no idea of the extent of the injuries he'd suffered. Since he walked—and worked—she'd just assumed he'd been healed.

"That's not to be talked about either, is it?"

"What?"

"How you got injured."

His face closed up. "It's not important." He glanced over where the men were finishing up in the fields. "I need to get back to work."

She began walking toward the front yard again. The tray and the glasses and refreshments were still lying on the grass where they'd fallen when Chris pulled her away from Josiah.Hannah knelt and began picking up the glasses and placing them on the tray.

Unexpectedly, Chris appeared beside her. He picked up a glass and handed it to her. "I'm sorry."

She felt herself tremble a little as she remembered how he'd run at her, yelling and acting like a crazy person, pulling her away from Josiah and making the tray she'd carried tumble to the grass.

Looking up, she met his eyes. "It's okay." She put another glass on the tray. "Please tell me what happened."

He hesitated.

"Please? Maybe it might help you." When he didn't answer, she sighed. "This isn't about me being curious. I realize I'm not Jenny, that I haven't gone through the same thing, but I really do want to help."

"I had a flashback," he said finally. "It's like—"

She held up her hand. "Like Matthew told me Jenny had when she first came here?"

Nodding, he went back to picking up things from the tray.

"Does everyone who sees war get it?"

"I hope not," he said fervently. "Some do. I don't know how many. Sometimes people who've been victims of a crime or something traumatic get them. It isn't just from war."

When he continued to look away from her, she put her hand on his. "It makes you feel ashamed. Why?"

His hand tightened to a fist under hers, then relaxed when she refused to let his go.

"A man doesn't like to lose control."

"Ever?"

He stared at her. In her eyes he saw something . . . the same something he'd glimpsed that day in the loft when he caught her before she fell . . . an awareness of him as a man.

"Don't tease," he said and heard the roughness in his voice.He picked up the plate and began piling slices of pumpkin bread on it.

"Don't worry about that," she said. "No one can eat it now."

He popped a piece in his mouth and she waved her hands."They're dirty!"

"You don't know what we had to eat in the field," he said."There was this time they couldn't get any rations to us and we saw this rat—"

Her stomach turned. "Oh, stop!"

"I was just joking."

He stood and lifted the tray, then held out his hand and helped her to her feet. She was sorry when he let it go.

"I guess it's good you can joke now."

She watched his eyes darken as he looked at her. "There was nothing funny about what happened. I'm sorry I scared you."

"You apologized. You're forgiven."

"Already?" He smiled slightly. "I guess you're known for that, huh?"

"My community, you mean? Matthew will tell you I've never forgiven him for putting a big ugly toad in my bed one night."

His laughter was rich. "Typical boy."

"Yes, Matthew was definitely that when he was younger."She met her brother's eyes as she walked up the steps of the porch where he and Jenny stood talking.

"I was what when I was younger?"

"A brother who teased me unmercifully," she said tartly as Chris opened the door and waited for her to walk inside.

"What? How'd that come up?" he called after her, sounding indignant. "You were talking about me?"

Hannah turned and took the tray from Chris. "Of course.Thanks, Chris."

"What was she saying?" Matthew demanded, sounding indignant as Hannah started toward the kitchen. "Did she tell you what she did to me when she was twelve?"