A Time to Heal

by Barbara Cameron

  "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 afte
r 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?"

  8

  If Chris had any thought of slipping away, matters were taken out of his hands.

  Mary came over a few minutes after Hannah left. "Mamm says I'm to get your laundry."

  "Laundry?"

  Mary nodded. "She says she's doing laundry tomorrow and it's no trouble to do yours."

  "I—"

  She held out the basket. "If you put it in here, I'll take it to her. She says I'm to make sure I get it." The way she looked directly at him reminded him of her Aunt Hannah a little. "I know you've got dirty clothes. You've been helping Daedi in the fields."

  "But—"

  "And Mamm says supper's in half an hour and don't be late."

  Chris blinked.

  "It's a special occasion," she said, holding out the basket."She just got back today, you know."

  "Yes—"

  "And she says she wants to talk to you."

  Chris glanced at the backpack near the door. He shouldn't have. Her eyes followed his and then she looked at him, her eyes wide. "You aren't going anywhere, are you? I thought you were helping Daedi with the harvest since John's having surgery."

  Yes, she definitely reminded him of her aunt with her directness, and it wasn't just because she'd used an adult's first name.He knew there was an attitude of complete equality here, that everyone called each other by their first names.

  "No—"

  "Gut. Now, can I have your clothes? I need to help Mamm in the kitchen."

  Resigned, Chris unzipped the backpack and pulled out the plastic bag of dirty clothes he'd tucked inside just a short time ago. He wadded them up and placed them in the basket.It didn't seem right that Jenny should be doing his clothes.Surely she had enough of them to do.

  "Danki. Remember, supper's in half an hour."

  After she left, he took a shower and folded up the clothes he had been wearing and set them by the front door. Since laundry wasn't being done until tomorrow perhaps he could add them to those he'd given to Mary.

  Midway through getting dressed, he stopped and frowned.

  Exactly how did the Amish do laundry if they didn't have electricity?

  The first chance he got at supper, he asked Jenny. To his surprise, she didn't blink at his question.

  "I'll show you the machine later," Jenny told him. "Joshua, take those clothes and put them in the basket for me, will you?"

  "Schur," the boy said and he took them from Chris.

  Jenny looked tired but radiant. When she refused his offer of help, Chris sat and watched as she moved around the kitchen taking food from the oven and the stovetop while listening to the children chatter about what they'd done while she was gone.

  Chris glanced toward the front door.

  "Hannah will be here in a few minutes," Jenny told him.

  "I wasn't thinking—" he broke off when she just smiled.

  Matthew walked in a few minutes later and Chris wondered if he'd say any more about what had happened that afternoon.But the other man excused himself to wash his hands and when he returned, Hannah and Phoebe were coming in the door. Phoebe hugged Jenny and the room became one big joyfilled space. The few days Jenny had been gone were pleasant, but it was obvious this woman was the heart of the home, and everyone was glad to have her back.

  When Chris glanced over at Hannah, he was surprised at the expression on her face.

  There was yearning in her eyes as she glanced around the table. When she realized he watched her, Hannah quickly schooled her expression and held out her hands to Joshua and Phoebe. The rest of the family joined hands for the blessing.

  Mary took Chris's hand and he reached out his other to Phoebe. Her hand felt dry and frail in his, but her grip felt strong. The look on her lined face as she glanced around the table was so full of joy it was almost blissful.

  Family. He watched a family connect in a way they were supposed to. His own family had been that close when he was growing up. They might still be. He'd stayed only a few weeks and couldn't seem to settle. He and his dad hadn't gotten along for years but there was a newer, bigger distance between them.Now he wished he'd given it a little more time.

  Soon. He'd go back soon. His family worried about him while he was in the hospital. They'd called, visited, even sent him letters and "care" packages.

  But he'd been so afraid of losing it the way he had earlier today to risk it. He didn't want to frighten them or cause them any more concern. Or, to be honest, shame himself. His father and his older brother had been in the military, as was the custom in his family, but neither had returned with any problems.

  The psychiatrists at the veteran's hospital talked a lot about why more soldiers who served in overseas conflicts experienced problems like post-traumatic stress syndrome. What was different about these conflicts than the ones before them? No one seemed to have the answer yet.

  But it wasn't so much the place he served that had been what had ultimately affected him, damaged him.

  No, it had been what one of his fellow officers had done that set the course of his life, not that of the war enemy.

  You were supposed to stand by the men in your platoon, your country. He knew that. Many of his comrades and commanding officers had tried to persuade him to look the other way if he saw them break a law.

  But he hadn't been able to ignore what he'd seen. He couldn't go through the rest of his time in the military as if nothing had happened, so he set the wheels in motion to get justice.

  Two weeks after the trial, just days before he was due to be discharged, a roadside bomb blew up while he was on a routine patrol.

  "Payback," one officer told him as they carried him onto the plane to ship him back home.

  Chris knew he was paying the price of betraying one of his own—

  A loud noise jerked him from his thoughts. Glancing up, he saw Hannah staring at him with frown lines puckering her forehead.

  Jenny jumped up and he realized the noise had been Annie dropping her glass of milk on the table. Milk rapidly spread across its surface, running in a sure path toward Chris. He grabbed his napkin and threw it down, mopping up the spill.

  "Crisis averted," he said, smiling at Annie whose bottom lip trembled. "No harm done."

  Hannah reached for the napkin and threw it into the sink.She walked over to the sideboard, pulled out another, and handed it to him.

  "Thanks, Chris," Jenny told him. "Sorry, it's a little more chaotic here than usual."

  "I think it's very nice."

  "It's a zoo," she said cheerfully.

  "But you love it."

  She grinned as she reached for Matthew's hand and squeezed it. "You bet."

  "You were quiet at supper," Hannah said as she followed him out onto the porch after the meal. "You looked like you were a million miles away."

  "At least a couple thousand," he muttered.

  "What?"

  "Nothing." Time to turn the tables on her, deflect her attention from him. "What were you thinking about before the prayer?"

  He watched color flood her face. She opened her mouth, then shut it.

  "I don't know what you mean."

  "Sure you do. I think I saw jealousy."

  "Who do you think I'm jealous of?" When he said nothing, her eyes widened with shock. "You think I'm jealous of Jenny? Why, I love her like a sister. And she deserves every good thing she gets after all she's been through."

  He rocked back on his heels. "Look who doesn't like personal questions."

  "It's not a personal question. It's an accusation!" she shot back. Stomping over to the door, she opened it and then shot him a fulminating glance. "I'm not even going to justify such —such—"

  "Baloney?"

  She made a noise and
went inside, letting the door slam behind her.

  A moment later, Matthew came through the same door. His eyebrows went up in question.

  "Problem?"

  Chris hesitated. After all, the woman was Matthew's sister."Hannah . . . she asks a lot of questions."

  Taking a seat in a chair on the porch, Matthew nodded."She's been like that since she was a child. She's very curious.And a little outspoken at times."

  Rocking back on his heels, Chris grinned. Then he realized that Matthew's eyes had narrowed. "I don't mean to frustrate her by not answering them."

  A laugh burst out of Matthew and he shook his head. "You're really a match for her, she—" he stopped.

  Chris's grin faded.

  The door opened again and this time Jenny walked out."Matthew, I—what did I just interrupt?"

  "Nothing," Chris said, uneasy with where his thoughts traveled after Matthew's words. "Nothing at all. I think I'll go on back to my room, have an early night. Nice to see you again, Jenny. See you tomorrow, Matthew."

  He beat a hasty retreat to his room.

  But as he lay in his bed a little while later, covered with one of Hannah's quilts, he thought about what Matthew had started to say. A match for Hannah? No way. It was obvious that the two of them were opposites in every way. And they could never be a match. The Amish and the Englisch didn't marry.

  He closed his eyes and was nearly asleep. And then a thought struck him and his eyes shot open.

  Jenny and Matthew had married. Was that what Matthew had been about to say? Couldn't be, he decided. What man would want his sister tied to a man like him?

  And where had any thought of marriage come from, anyway? Like a lot of men he knew, he'd rather face a firing squad than think about marriage.

  Sleep was a long time coming.

  Chris and Matthew walked to the barn after breakfast.

  Matthew glanced up, studying the sky, sniffing at the air in the manner Chris had seen farmers do for years. "We'll have another good day harvesting tomorrow. Rain's holding off."

  "My dad used to do that."

  Reaching into his back pocket, Matthew pulled out a cell phone. "I checked the weather channel before I came out."

  Chris chuckled. "Neat little gadgets, huh? Thought they weren't allowed."