Jenny lifted it all. "No, I'm fine. Listen, you're looking really tired. Let your mother-in-law cook supper. I think she really wants to help."
Glancing over Jenny's shoulder, Hannah smiled. "They're nice people. I know they were a little worried about what Chris was getting himself into by staying here. I know we look quaint and old-fashioned to the Englisch. But I think it's helping that they're seeing everything for themselves."
She sighed. "Now if we can just keep William and Chris from killing each other."
Matthew watched Chris pace around the barn.
"If you keep doing this you're going to exhaust yourself by the time the baby comes," he said.
"I know." Chris blew out a breath. "I've done everything I can think of. Planned the crops for spring. Ordered the seed. Repaired the tack."
Matthew hid his grin as he bent over the dresser he was sanding.
"I need a hobby."
"A hobby? What's that?"
Chris stared at him and then he laughed. "Yeah, guess that's a strange word here."
"I know what a hobby is," Matthew told him dryly. He stood back and studied the dresser, then ran his hand over the sanded surface. "What did you used to do in your spare time?"
"I had this Mustang."
"Really? You could have brought him." Matthew looked up from his task when Chris laughed. "What?"
"It's a car. You haven't heard of a Mustang?"
Matthew shook his head. "We don't exactly keep up on things like that."
"No, right." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "Man, what a honey that car was. Midnight blue. Sleek lines. V-8 engine. Lotta horsepower under the hood. She could go from zero to—" he stopped. "Sorry."
"It's allrecht. I think I understand. I've seen how Englischers feel about their cars. It's different but I feel some fondness for Pilot when he takes me somewhere in the buggy. Pilot doesn't have as much horsepower but he shows me a lot of affection."
Chris grinned. "I understand."
Matthew stared at his brother-in-law. He'd never thought to ask this question but suddenly it seemed important to him."Chris, are you happy here?"
The other man stared at him. "Of course. Why do you ask?"
Shrugging, suddenly unable to look at him, Matthew pretended a need to focus his attention on the front drawer of the dresser.
"Are you afraid I'll go back with my parents?"
Matthew glanced up. "Well, I wondered . . ." he trailed off.
"You don't think Hannah thinks that, do you?" Chris ran a hand through his hair, making it stand on end. "She can't think that. She has to know I love her."
"You don't miss anything about your old life?"
"Are you crazy? My life's here, with her and the baby coming."He stopped and stared into the distance. "Oh geez," he said.
With a sigh, he sank down on a nearby bale of hay and appeared lost in thought.
"Chris. Chris!" he repeated.
"What?" He shook his head, as if to clear it.
"I didn't mean to upset you."
"I'm just trying to think about whether I said or did anything that would make Hannah concerned I'd go back home with my parents. She doesn't deserve any stress right now."
Matthew threw down the sandpaper and walked over to crouch down in front of Chris. "I'm sorry I asked the question.I meant no harm. You and Hannah look so much in love. It's just that things are so different here. It's not the life for everyone."
"I know that. It's taken some adjustment. But nothing I wasn't expecting. You forget, too, that I had a pretty structured life in the military. I don't have any problem with rules."
He stood and Matthew did as well. But this time, when Chris paced around the barn, his steps were less frenetic, his expression more thoughtful than stressed. "Talking with Jenny helped a lot. That and talking with the bishop."
"Jenny?"
"You know she's the reason I came here to begin with. The way she talked about this place, you and the children. The way she seemed to glow when she described how she felt about her new life—the one she'd have after she finished studying to join the church and marry you and the children." He stopped and laughed. "Well, she didn't marry the children. You know what I mean."
"She did marry the children in a way," Matthew said. "We became a family the day we married."
The memory of how he and Jenny had walked, she with her arm in his, to be married was so precious. Jenny had worked so hard with her physical therapy to do it without depending on her cane.
What could have happened to cause this distance between them? he wondered. They barely talked lately, only went through the motions.
"Are you okay?"
Matthew realized that Chris stared at him, his expression concerned.
"Shur," he said but he must have been too quick for Chris frowned even harder.
"You've been quiet lately," Chris said.
"When we're all together there's so much talking." Even to his own ears it sounded lame. Matthew walked around to the side of the dresser and looked for flaws.
"Everything okay between you and Jenny?"
"Of course."
"Okay." Chris drew out the word. He walked over to the smaller dresser that Matthew had made for Annie's room."Matthew?"
"Hmm?"
"Have you ever made a cradle?"
Matthew turned to look at him. "Ya. Each of the kinner slept in it beside our bed until we moved them to a crib in their own room. Did you want to borrow it?"
"I want you to teach me how to make one. I think it might be something good to keep me occupied until the baby comes."
"A hobby?"
Chris laughed. "Yes. And I think Hannah would like it."
Matthew clapped him on the back. "I think she would love it."
"Can we go into town for some wood tomorrow?"
"Shur."
Chris surprised him by hugging him. "Thanks, man," he said.
When he stepped back, he looked away, as if embarrassed by what he'd done. But not before Matthew saw him blinking back tears. Matthew found himself doing the same.
"Guess I'd better get back home. If I know my father he'll be eating my share. He does love Hannah's cooking."
"Ya," Matthew agreed. He needed to get inside for supper, too.
And he'd do his best to talk with his wife that night, find out what was causing the distance between them.
11
A few days later, Jenny found a message waiting for her on the phone in the shanty.
Her friend Joy's voice came through bright and friendly on the voicemail, making it seem as if she stood with Jenny in the small space, filling it with her energy and spirit.
"Hey, hope everyone's doing well! Just calling to see if we could come visit for a few days. Not going to impose on you for a place to stay. Just want to see you and the family, get a room at the B & B we love near you. If it's not a good time you better say or I'll be upset with you. Call me back when you can."
Torn, Jenny clutched the phone. A visit with Joy and her husband, David, and Sam, their little boy, would be wonderful. They'd been pretty much Jenny's only friends in her old life in New York City—whenever Jenny was in the country and not reporting overseas. She'd played matchmaker, introducing network wunderkind David to Joy, a marketing specialist Jenny had met in the building elevator one day. They'd attended each other's weddings and the "city mice" as Joy referred to them visited the "country mice" here in Paradise once or twice a year.
Jenny thought about what fun they'd all had the last visit and wanted so much to return the call and say, "Yes! How soon can you be here?"
But this meant that there would be more people she had to pretend around and act like nothing was wrong. She wasn't sure just how much more she could do that.
She wondered if she should think about it for a few hours. No, she decided. Joy and David hadn't been here for ages and she missed them so. Sam, too. They wouldn't be any trouble— they always insisted on staying at the B & B not far from t
he farm. Impulsively, she picked up the phone to call Joy back to confirm the visit.
Maybe she'd have to pretend that things were okay when her friends visited. But maybe she'd have figured out what to do before then. She had to, she told herself. The tension was proving too much.
When she walked outside, she saw Fern coming up the drive.
"I've been thinking," the woman said in that no nonsense way of hers. "I think us girls should go shopping."
"Shopping?"
Fern nodded. "We've been looking over her baby things everyone's been making but I'd sure like to buy some things as well. And she wants to pick up some fabric for a quilt. One for the baby. Well, another one. Said she'd already made two." Her eyes filled and she blinked rapidly. "Such an emotional time. We came here to see what was what with Chris and found us such a happy situation."
Jenny patted her arm. "It's wonderful to see, isn't it? They love each other very, very much. And I know they're so happy about having a baby"
She hesitated. "I'm running a little behind on my deadline—"
"Pish tosh, can't work every minute. Why don't you go tell your man we're going into town for a few hours?"
Jenny nodded and sighed. "Okay. Are we taking Hannah's buggy?"
"Honey, we're paying through the nose for those wheels we rented," she said, gesturing to the car in the other driveway."Let's use them."
She turned and strode back to Hannah's house, turning to yell, "We'll pick you up in fifteen minutes."
When Jenny opened the barn door, the two men inside jumped and Chris quickly grabbed a tarp and dragged it over something.
"Close the door, quick!" Chris ordered.
Jenny did as he asked. "What's up?"
"Hannah's not right behind you, is she?"
Jenny shook her head. "Why?"
Chris pulled the cover off and revealed a baby cradle.
He and Matthew were working on a baby cradle. Jenny felt a lump rise in her throat.
"It's for Hannah. For the baby."
"Yes, I guessed."
"It's a surprise."
She nodded. "I won't tell." Her glance slid to Matthew then quickly away.
Caught up in his excitement, Chris didn't notice that Jenny and Matthew were avoiding looking at each other.
Chris walked around the cradle and studied it. "Matthew's showing me how to make it. He said he carved one for the kids when they were babies."
His unexpected words hit her in the chest. Matthew had made a cradle for his children? She told herself she shouldn't have been surprised. After all, Matthew was a very good furniture builder. Of course he would have made his children a cradle.
Well, she couldn't get upset about something like that. It had been years ago. It had nothing to with her.
But oh, if only he were hiding in the barn, working on a cradle for a child of their own right now. She wasn't an envious person. She wasn't.
She wasn't!
But she so wanted Matthew to be building a cradle for their child. She wanted him making a surprise like that for her. She swallowed at the lump. Her heart fairly ached thinking about it.
A horn honked outside.
Thank heavens, she thought. "Fern wants me to go with her and Hannah to get some things for the baby. We'll be back in a couple of hours."
Matthew nodded.
"She just came over. I didn't have time to fix your dinner. There's leftover roast beef—"
"I'm sure we can fix a sandwich," Chris told her with a grin. "If Matthew doesn't know how I can show him."
Jenny stared at Chris for a moment. He looked so happy, so carefree. She thought he looked like he might burst from it. How different he appeared compared to the haunted man who'd come here suffering from post-traumatic stress syndrome and a bone-deep disappointment in his fellow soldiers who'd turned their back on him after he'd testified against one of his own. Then he'd nearly died when he'd been hurt in a car bombing.
He'd talked about how every soldier—whether he was an atheist or agnostic—believed in God on the battlefield. But he'd stopped believing in Him and come here. And everything had changed. Just as it had for her.
The car horn honking again made her jump. She jerked her head to look at Matthew again, at his still, silent form. He watched her, unsmiling.
The difference between the two men couldn't have been more dramatic.
"I'll be back soon."
"Jenny?"
She turned back.
Matthew had his wallet in his hand. "Do you need money?"
She shook her head. "I have some. Thanks."
"Then have a gut time."
She nodded. "Thanks."
Jenny stirred her iced tea and then took a sip.
"You're awfully quiet," Hannah remarked as she set her fork down.
After taking a quick look at Fern standing at the buffet line, she smiled. "Fern enjoys talking. I enjoy listening to her."
"She's sweet, isn't she? Wish I could have stopped her from buying so much at the baby store."
"It makes her happy to think about having her first grandchild."
Hannah set her fork down and leaned back in her chair. "Yes, it does, doesn't it?"
"You're not eating much."
"I'm not very hungry." Hannah frowned as she shifted in her chair.
"You okay?"
"Yes. Just a little cramping." In a motion that had become habitual, Hannah rubbed at her abdomen.
"No foot under the ribs?"
"Not lately."
"What's this about ribs?" Fern asked as she stopped beside the table. She hesitated, glanced at the buffet and frowned. "I didn't see any ribs on it. I do like some good ribs."
Hannah laughed and explained how the baby had made her so uncomfortable a few weeks ago.
"You aren't finished, are you?" Fern said, waving her fork at Hannah's plate. "Why, you didn't eat enough for a bird."
"I sure did."
"Back in my day—"
"I know, the doctor told you to eat for two." Hannah smiled. "They don't want you to do that these days."
"Looking at you, you barely look pregnant the way you just adjust your clothes with pins instead of wearing maternity smocks and things."
Hannah burst out laughing. When she stopped she wiped at her streaming eyes. "Oh, that's a good one. I look huge right now and I know it."
Fern made quick work of her second helping from the buffet while Jenny finished her meal and Hannah sipped at a glass of water. Before long, Fern was getting up to take a look at the dessert buffet.
"Never had shoofly pie," she said. "Gotta go take a look at it." Off she went.
"What are you doing here?" a woman said loudly as she stood beside a booth near them.
Jenny and Hannah looked up.
"It's Officer Lang," Hannah said. "You remember, you met her at the hospital after I got shot."
Jenny didn't think she'd ever forget anything having to do with that day. "Who's she talking to?"
"Can't see. But she doesn't sound happy."
"Since when can't a man have a meal in a restaurant?"
"The deal was that you stayed away from Mrs. Matlock."
Hannah and Jenny glanced at each other at the mention of Hannah's name.
A man stuck his head out of the booth and looked in their direction. "Oh, sorry, didn't see you when I came in," he said.
"No, don't do that, Malcolm," Hannah said firmly. "We'll be leaving in a minute. Surely he can stay and finish his food, can't he, officer?"
Officer Lang hesitated, resting one hand on the utility belt on her hip. "You remember your husband insisted on the restraining order, Mrs. Matlock."
Hannah sighed. "Yes, I remember."
Tilting her head to one side, she studied the officer. "Did someone call you here or were you stopping for coffee or dinner?"
The officer's eyes narrowed. "I was going to eat. Why?"
"Well, then, maybe you could join us and the whole problem is solved."
&nb
sp; "I thought you said you were about to leave."
"Or you could join me," Malcolm offered.
Jenny could see that the statement surprised the woman for she turned and looked at him, wary.
"And why would I want to do that?"
"Serve and protect, right? Be a lot easier to glare at me from close proximity."
"I can do that from her table just fine."
"No doubt," he said, picking up a French fry and dunking it into a puddle of ketchup on his plate. He chewed it and washed it down with a big soft drink. "We can talk about my AA meetings and how I'm becoming a model citizen."
The officer straightened and Jenny, who'd learned about body language from years of being in danger zones overseas, saw that the woman had tensed.
Malcolm must have realized he'd overstepped, for his smile faded and he gestured at the seat opposite him. "Sorry, I have a lousy sense of humor. Why don't you let me buy you lunch and make it up to you."
"I'm not sure—"
He said something in a low voice that Jenny couldn't hear. Hannah either, apparently, for she looked at Jenny with her eyebrows raised in question.
Officer Lang slid into the booth.
"Well," Hannah whispered to Jenny. "That's interesting. What do you suppose he said to her?"
"Please," Jenny whispered back.
"Please?"
Jenny nodded.
"You don't suppose . . ."
"What?"
Hannah smiled as she watched them. "You don't suppose that he might be interested in her?"
Sneaking a look, Jenny shook her head. "A cop and a convicted felon? I think you're just seeing the world with rose colored glasses, sister-in-law. I'm sure he was just trying to be nice to her. I mean, would you mess with someone with a gun?" she asked.
Then she clapped a hand over her mouth. Tactless, tactless, tactless, she chided herself. Hannah had gotten in the way of Malcolm when he'd tried to shoot Chris not so long ago. "Oh, no, I'm sorry, what am I saying?"
"It's okay," Hannah told her. "It's history now. I'm fine and Malcolm is on the right path to making a success of his life."
She looked up and grinned. "Speaking of paths. Someone we know sure has been beating a path to the buffet. I can see where Chris gets his love of food from."
A Time for Peace Page 11