A Time to Heal

by Barbara Cameron

  "I won't!"

  "Anyway, I want to thank you," she told Chris.

  She took a deep breath and said what she knew she should have said some time ago. "I know we got off on the wrong foot, and I haven't always been pleasant to you."

  "Yeah, it was a surprise because we're so much alike," he said.

  "Alike?" She stared at him. "How?"

  He chuckled. "We're both stubborn, protective, and sure we're right."

  She leaned back against the doorjamb. "Are you saying those things about yourself so that you can say them about me?"

  "Oh, of course not," he said, but the twinkle in his eyes belied his words. "And then there's the fact that you're Amish and I'm Englisch, as you call it, so you can see we should have no differences in how we feel and act about things."

  Hannah shook her head and grinned. Then she spotted a buggy turning into the drive. She straightened and her smile faded as she saw who had come to visit.

  "That's the bishop. I wonder why he's here."

  "Do you want me to stay or go get the horses?"

  "Get the horses," she said quickly. "I'd rather he not think I'm entertaining Englisch men."

  "I'd be happy to tell him otherwise." Chris stood straighter himself.

  "No, there's Joshua now," she told him, spying the boy walking up to the bishop's buggy and helping the elderly man alight. "And thank you for—for—"

  "For being sensitive?" he asked, struggling not to laugh.

  "I'm sure you've never been accused of that," she said tartly.

  "Now, now, let's play nice. We were actually getting along for a few minutes there."

  "Joshua, Chris is waiting to help you bring in the horses," Hannah called to him.

  The bishop and Joshua walked up the steps and the older man studied Chris.

  "This is Chris Matlock, a friend of Jenny's," Hannah said as she introduced them. "Chris, this is Bishop Miller."

  The two men shook hands. "I hear you're helping Matthew with the harvest."

  Chris nodded. "My family owns a farm out in Kansas."

  The bishop's glance went to the barn. "Heard there was some trouble here today."

  "Joshua, why don't you and Chris go get the horses now and put them in Phoebe's barn? Be sure to feed them."

  She waited until the two had left and then turned to the bishop. "Eli had some burns on his arms and chest but he's okay. They're keeping him at the hospital for observation tonight, but he should be out tomorrow."

  The bishop descended the stairs and walked toward the barn. Hannah followed him.

  "The fire chief doesn't want anyone to go near it."

  He stopped and peered at her over wire-rimmed glasses."Why?"

  "Said he wants to send an investigator to look around tomorrow."

  "Are you saying he thinks someone set the fire?"

  "I think he's just making sure of what caused it," she said, frowning. "I don't think he suspects anyone set it. He said barns are a problem, being a wood structure, things stored it, that sort of thing."

  The bishop folded his arms across his chest and stared at it."It's not a good time for it to have happened," he said finally."Matthew can't really afford the time to fix it while he's finishing up the harvest. We'll have to talk."

  "He's not home. He and Jenny went to the hospital to see about Eli."

  "I knew that," the man said mildly.

  "Oh, of course." The Amish grapevine was working as usual.

  "I also heard about the young man who's staying here. The one I just met that you said is a friend of Jenny's."

  "Heard about him?"

  "Josiah said he came running toward his buggy, waving his arms, fussing about him not taking you. Said he didn't know what all that was about."

  Hannah sighed. "Chris just misunderstood something."

  When the bishop continued to stare at her, she realized she'd have to give him some kind of explanation or things might look worse for Chris.

  "He served overseas in the military and saw bad things. He had a kind of stress flashback."

  "He was a soldier?" The bishop stroked his beard and looked thoughtful. "I hope he's not talking about it, glorifying what he did there with the kinner. They're at an impressionable age."

  "No, of course not."

  "Gut. We're a peaceful people. We don't believe in making war."

  "Chris knows that. And I don't think Chris went into the military with the idea of making war."

  She felt compelled somehow to defend him although she wasn't entirely sure why. "His family has a tradition of serving to defend the country."

  "Seems like the two of you were being friendly just now."

  Hannah felt her cheeks warm at what she felt was a mild rebuke. She hadn't done anything inappropriate. "He came to ask if there was anything else he could do since Matthew is at the hospital," she told him, trying to keep her voice level.

  Don't be defensive, she told herself. If you do, it'll just seem as if you're feeling guilty. And she wasn't guilty of anything.Well, okay, if she was honest with herself she had to admit that she thought he was attractive but . . . "Matthew was lucky Chris was here when he needed someone, especially someone who's worked on a farm the way he has."

  "Gut." He scanned the bright blue, cloudless sky. "Well, let's hope the rain holds off until all the crops are in."

  She walked him back to his buggy and watched it pull out of the drive and proceed down the road.

  Annie came out onto the porch. "Hannah! The pan is making funny noises!"

  Hannah's hand flew to her throat. "I forgot! I put it on to boil the green beans!"

  Gathering up her skirt, she flew up the steps and ran inside, calling to Annie to stay on the porch. The pan on the stove had nearly boiled dry and was, indeed, making "funny" noises, sputtering as the last drops of water danced on the surface.

  "I didn't go near it," Annie told her.

  Hannah bent to kiss the top of her head. "Danki, liebschen. It's important to stay safe."

  The safety games were paying off, thought Hannah as she took the pan to the sink and refilled it. Farm living could be dangerous for children, with farm equipment moving around, animals being raised, kinner doing chores alongside their eldre. During the time she'd come to live with Matthew after his wife died, she played the safety games that were taught to Plain children so they'd be more careful.

  Today, she'd forgotten the pan of water, but Annie had stayed away from it. Annie had remembered what she'd taught her.

  As Hannah stood at the sink refilling the pan with water, she looked out at the barn. The day had been sobering enough without something else happening.

  Chris had seen the way the bishop looked at him when he walked up. The man had behaved much like a suspicious father—he knew there was a strict code of conduct, more propriety than in the Englisch world. Something called the Ordnung. He wasn't going to do anything that caused the family more problems.

  Without Matthew and Jenny here, maybe he shouldn't expect to eat supper in the kitchen as usual.

  When he and Joshua finished feeding the horses and they had returned to the house, he asked the boy to have Hannah come to the front door.

  She wiped her hands on a dishtowel as she stepped outside."Did you need something?"

  "Is there any place to get something to eat around here?"

  "You don't want to eat with us? I made pot roast. I know you'll like it."

  "With the way the bishop was looking at me, I figured he was trying to tell me that I shouldn't be here without my hosts."

  She smiled. "You were perceptive. I got that message too.But it wouldn't be right to tell you to go get supper elsewhere.Besides, I solved the problem—Phoebe will be joining us."

  "Good," he said. "I like her."

  "Me or the pie I'm bringing?" Phoebe asked.

  Chris turned. "You, of course. But I'll be happy to carry in that pie for you."

  "Ya, because it's sooo heavy," she said with a twinkle in her eye.
She held out the pie. "I'm not sure which people like better, me or my pies."

  "It's a tough choice when it's your apple cranberry," he told her seriously and then he grinned to show her he was teasing.

  Matthew and Jenny came in midway through supper.They said Eli was doing well and would be home the next day. No one talked at the table. Matthew and Jenny appeared exhausted.

  Afterward, Chris walked out to the barn with Matthew and they studied the scene, discussing how the fire might have started. Storing hay had always been dangerous—both of them had heard of the volatility of the dust it created.

  They agreed there could be many things that might ignite, such as chemicals or the gasoline used for various equipment.

  "Don't know when I can start repairs," Matthew said. "We still have to get in the rest of the crops."

  Chris shook his head as he assessed the damage. "You think it can be repaired? It won't have to be pulled down?"

  "I'll know more after the investigator comes."

  "A farmer's life isn't an easy life."

  "Ya," Matthew said simply. "But it's the life I love, with God walking alongside me helping things grow."

  He bent to pick up a big flake of ash and study it.

  "If God is walking alongside you, why did He let this happen?"

  "I don't always understand why things happen," Matthew said after a long moment. "God's will is a mysterious thing sometimes. But I don't have to understand. It's enough for me to know that whether He reveals why He's done something or not, He is all-knowing."

  Chris thought about that. How could anyone be so accepting of something bad like this happening? He'd been struggling with doing what he thought was right when he saw something bad happening, only to then have the men he saw as brothers in the military turn on him because of it.

  He suddenly realized Matthew was saying something."Sorry, I was thinking about something that happened sometime back. It's hard to accept it as God's will, to believe that it was somehow part of His plan for me. It just feels like it's caused me nothing but problems."

  But as much as he wanted to talk to Matthew about his inner conflict, he felt the old reserve creep back. It wasn't good to share too much when you didn't know someone well, no matter how good a person he considered Matthew to be.And how much could the other man understand when he wasn't from the world Chris had experienced—not just Englisch, but military?

  Besides, dusk was falling and they'd both had a long day.

  "You okay?"

  "Sure. Why do you ask?"

  Matthew shook his head. "I thought you were about to say something. Guess I'll get the horses in."

  "Done. Joshua and I took care of it—fed and watered them too."

  "Well, danki. I appreciate it." He held out his hand. "And danki for grabbing Eli and saving him from hurting himself worse today. You have fast reflexes."

  "You learn 'em on the battlefield," Chris said, shaking Matthew's hand.

  Matthew started toward the house, to his wife and family, and Chris toward the dawdi haus.

  Chris hesitated and turned back to look at Matthew.

  Matthew stopped. "Did you say something?"

  Shaking his head, Chris opened the back door and went inside. It was just that the day had been strange—an emotional roller coaster, he thought as he got a glass of water. He felt out of sorts.

  No, if he was honest with himself, he suddenly felt lonely. He drained the glass and went into the bedroom to go to sleep.

  But once again he lay awake for a long time.

  An investigator came the next morning and looked around the barn.

  Hannah watched him as she hung out the laundry she'd helped Jenny re-wash because it smelled of the smoke from the fire.

  Every so often, she glanced over to the fields where Matthew, Chris, and the other men worked. And often, she found Chris watching her.

  Buggies and cars slowed and sometimes stopped as people gawked at the damage the fire had done to the barn.

  "Wonder what he's finding," Jenny said as the man came out of the barn.

  "What's that in his hands?"

  "Evidence bags."

  "Evidence? What kind?"

  "I don't know. But if he wasn't finding something that made him suspicious, he wouldn't be bringing bags out."

  Chills ran up and down Hannah's arms. "Jenny, you're not saying that someone would start a fire in the barn?"

  Jenny bit her lip as she watched the investigator. "No, that can't be. He's just being careful. Why would anyone start a fire in our barn? No one's mad at us."

  Then she frowned.

  "What?"

  "No, it's too ridiculous to think—"

  "What?" Exasperated, Hannah stood with her hands on her hips, wanting to shake her sister-in-law.

  "You don't suppose Josiah—"

  "Josiah what?"

  "I know he wasn't happy when I first moved back. He went to the bishop and the elders of the church, saying he was afraid of my influence on the community."

  "But he got over it."

  "Well, maybe. Maybe not. You said he looked really unhappy that Chris came rushing at him, thinking he was forcing you into his buggy. And you told me the bishop came the other day and said Josiah talked to him about Chris and how he had that flashback."

  "Then wouldn't he be mad at Chris, not at you and Matthew?"

  Jenny picked up a clothespin that had fallen in the grass."I don't know. I'm probably just being paranoid thinking such a thing."

  Realizing that her hands were suddenly clammy, Hannah rubbed them up and down her apron. "But you know how to figure out things like this—from your TV reporter days— when you lived in the Englisch world."

  "I wasn't an investigative reporter, Hannah. I was a feature reporter, covering stories about how children were being affected by war."

  "No, you know how people think—people who do bad things."

  Jenny blinked. "Are you saying I have some insight into the criminal mind?"

  "A lot more than me. Bad things don't happen here. Oh, Isaiah Lapp got a ticket for driving his courting buggy recklessly last month and Abe Miller had to apologize for trying to climb into Fannie Mae Yoder's window as a joke. But we hardly ever have any crime here.

  "Barns have burned here in the community before. There could have been a spark that started it. Maybe one of the men was smoking a pipe out there and didn't want to admit it because Matthew would have a fit."

  "But we heard an explosion."

  "Could have been chemicals stored in the barn or gas for the engine—" she stopped when Jenny just gave her a disbelieving stare.

  "Denial's not a river in Egypt," Jenny said.

  "What?"

  "Never mind. It's just a silly Englisch expression."

  "Just when I think you've completely adapted to being Plain, you say something that makes you sound Englisch."

  "Well, I guess it's because so far, I've spent more time being Englisch than Plain. Forget I said anything about Josiah. He's just an old man set in his ways, afraid that outsiders will ruin the community. I'm sure he's harmless."

  She put her arm around Hannah's waist and they started toward the house. "Let's go inside and have some tea and talk about your job."

  "It's just twenty hours a week. Not a real job. At least it doesn't feel like a job. It's fun teaching other women how to quilt."

  "And admit it, you've been curious about the Englisch for a long time. Teaching them how to quilt should give you a chance to know more of them."

  Hannah laughed. "Ya."

  They entered the kitchen, and Jenny filled the tea kettle and set it on the stove while Hannah dug some cookies out of the cookie jar and placed them on a plate. When the tea was ready, they sat down at the table to rest a few minutes.

  "We sew a lot of quilts here for function, you know, because we need them to cover our beds so we can stay warm," Hannah told Jenny. "And it's a pleasure to make them because we love the person who will be warmed by so
mething we made with our hands."

  She stirred her tea and took a sip. "It's fun, too, to make something creative, using patterns and material pieces and colors. Some of the Englisch women come to learn how to quilt because they want to do the same thing, to make a quilt for a loved one. It's not a necessity for them like it is here. They can buy blankets. However, I like watching them get the same joy from experimenting with quilt making that we do."

  "Because we're more alike than we're different, don't you think?"

  "Ya, I suppose so. Except—"

  "Except . . ." Jenny found her looking toward the kitchen window.

  Her eyes followed Hannah's. "I guess I don't need to look out the window to see who you're talking about, do I?"

  "He's different from the men I know."

  "I remember that first night he came here you said he was attractive and I teased you," Jenny mused.

  Hannah blushed. "You're not starting on that again, are you?"

  "No, I just wonder if you're interested in him because he's someone different. Maybe you should visit another Plain community—" She stopped when Hannah held up her hand.

  "I wish it were that easy." She sighed. "Phoebe and I have talked about it."

  "You're sure it's not that you feel . . . sorry for him? Because of what he's been through?"

  Hannah smiled and shook her head. "But I don't know how he feels about me. Sometimes I feel like he's looking at me . . . like there's something there, and then I wonder if I'm just imagining it. It's not like he's flirting . . ."

  It was Jenny's turn to shake her head. "Chris doesn't strike me as the kind of man who plays with a woman's feelings."

  "I'll get the door," Hannah said when someone knocked."You relax."

  The fire investigator stood on the front porch. His expression was grim. "Is Matthew Bontrager available?"

  Chris watched Jenny wave to get Matthew's attention as he stood on the edge of the field. Matthew acknowledged her wave and began walking toward her.

  One of the first things a soldier learned was to study body language. If he didn't understand how to read a person's mood, his intent, it could cost him his life. A battlefield wasn't always marked; an enemy didn't always wear a uniform. Sometimes a person—even a child—could suddenly pull out a weapon, trigger a riot, or become a human bomb.