An Amish Wife for Christmas

by Patricia Davids

  “I’m in Maine.” Harsh panting filled his ears. He knew he was making that sound but he couldn’t stop.

  “I want you to listen to my voice. No one is hurting you.”

  Michael turned his head and tried to focus on the man kneeling beside him. He wanted out of this nightmare, but he didn’t know how. “Help.”

  “I’m here to help you. I think you are having a flashback to something bad that happened before. It’s not happening now. It’s all in the past. Do you understand? You are safe. No one will hurt you.”

  Michael had no idea how long he lay on the snowy ground listening to Pastor Frank’s voice, but slowly the cold air began penetrating the nightmare. The cold was now. The cold was the present. He took a deep breath and then another. He was looking up at darkening sky. There was a single white cloud drifting overhead. It looked like a catcher’s mitt. He heard soft whining. Turning his head slowly, he focused on Sadie Sue. She lay beside him with her head on his thigh.

  Michael’s pounding heart began to slow. He laid a hand on her head. “Goot hund.”

  “Are you feeling better?” Pastor Frank was still kneeling at Michael’s side.

  Embarrassed that anyone had seen him like this, Michael struggled to sit up. “I’m fine.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. If you would like to tell me about what happened, I will be happy to listen.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” Michael struggled to get up. Pastor Frank gave him a hand and helped him to his feet.

  “That’s perfectly understandable.”

  Michael looked around. “Where is my cane?”

  Sadie sat at his side, her wagging tail sweeping the snow from his doorstep. She leaned against him as he patted her head.

  Pastor Frank located Michael’s cane inside the door and handed it to him. He smiled at the dog. “The Lord provides comfort for us in many amazing ways.”

  Michael wanted nothing more than to retreat inside the cabin and lock the door. “Thanks for the help. I was fortunate I fell at your feet.”

  “Actually, you didn’t. You fell at Ivan’s feet. I had just finished having supper with Gemma and Bethany. I was getting in my van when Ivan raced up and said you needed help.”

  Ivan was standing a few yards away from them. His pale face and wide eyes revealed how frightened he was. Michael rubbed his hands together to warm them. “I’m sorry I scared you, Ivan.”

  “You may have done more good than harm,” Frank said softly and beckoned Ivan closer. “He insists he was the one who threw a rock through your window, but I have my doubts.”

  “I saw two figures,” Michael said.

  Ivan approached slowly. “I thought you had been hit in the head or something. I thought you were dying.”

  Michael managed a half smile. “As you can see, I’m not.”

  “Why did you break the window?” Frank asked.

  Ivan stared at the ground and shifted from one foot to the other. “I don’t know.”

  “I think you do,” Frank said.

  “Jeffrey and I like to hang out here. We were mad that we couldn’t use it as a meeting place anymore. I guess we thought you might not stay if the window was broken. We didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “Actions have consequences,” Frank said sternly. “Your wrath served no good purpose. Before you act in anger again, you must think about this day.”

  “I will. Are you going to tell Bethany about this?”

  “No,” Michael said emphatically.

  Frank placed a hand on Ivan’s shoulder. “You’d better go home. Your sister was looking for you.”

  “To scold me again, right?”

  “To talk to you about what’s really bothering you. Your sister loves you. You know that.”

  “Sure, that’s why she’s sending me away.” The boy turned and walked toward the house with lagging steps.

  “He’s got a chip on his shoulder,” Michael said.

  “He does, but right now I’m more concerned about you.”

  Michael grew uncomfortable under Frank’s intense scrutiny. “I told you I’m fine.”

  “How often do you have these flashbacks?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yes, you do. Why deny it? What’s important is that I know exactly what you are going through. I used to be in your shoes. I dealt with PTSD for three years before my symptoms improved. I haven’t had a flashback for five years now.”

  “How?”

  “How did I get better? Time and therapy. Why don’t we step inside out of the cold?”

  Michael limped into the cabin. The dog followed him in and went to lie in front of the fireplace.

  “I don’t have much in the way of furniture yet. I’m having some stuff shipped from home.” There was an overstuffed green leather chair by the fireplace and two straight-backed chairs that came with the cabin. Michael lowered himself into the upholstered chair and glanced at Frank. “What caused your PTSD?”

  Frank turned one of the wooden chairs around and straddled it. “I served in the military right out of high school. I saw some brutal fighting and horrible situations at a very young age. I married while I was in the service. I thought I was tough. I thought I was okay but a few months after I got home I started having episodes where I relived the most frightening events I went through. I started having nightmares, panic attacks. I became moody, bitter and depressed. My wife didn’t know how to deal with me, and we divorced. Thankfully a fellow veteran recognized what was wrong with me and got me help.”

  “You stopped having them?” Michael wanted desperately to believe it was possible.

  “In time they went away. I found God and He changed my life. I wanted to do His work, but I also wanted to use modern medicine to help people suffering with mental health issues. I went back to school to become a psychologist and counselor, and then I became a minister. Michael, what triggered your episode today? Do you know?”

  Michael shook his head. “It just came out of the blue.”

  “It may seem that way but there is often a trigger associated with an episode. It can be a sensation that recalls the trauma, such as pain. Strong emotions, feeling helpless, trapped or out of control can bring on a flashback or panic attack. A trigger can be as simple as a smell, a phrase, a sound.”

  Michael turned to look at the window. “The glass breaking. That’s what triggered it today.” One of the thieves had broken the glass jewelry case and triggered the alarm.

  Michael gazed at Frank. “You said I can get over this.”

  “Recovery is a process. It takes time and there are often setbacks. It’s important to stay positive, but yes, the majority of people with PTSD recover in time. For a few it is a lifelong battle. Therapy can help enormously. Talking about your trauma in a safe environment is a way to lessen the hold it has on you. How often do you have these flashbacks?”

  “Three or four times a week. Sometimes every day. This is the first one since I arrived here. That was three days ago.”

  “And how long do they last?”

  “It feels like an eternity but maybe ten minutes.” Michael rubbed his thigh. It always ached worse after an episode.

  Frank nodded. “And how long does it take for you to recover from one?”

  “Twenty minutes or so. Will you have to tell someone about what happened today?”

  “I don’t but I wish you would let me help. I have a survivors’ support group that meets every other week at my church. I invite you to check it out. You aren’t the only one dealing with a traumatic past.”

  Michael shook his head. “I’d rather no one knows about this.”

  Especially Bethany. It shouldn’t matter so much what she thought but it did matter.

  Pastor Frank didn’t argue. “As you wish. Please let me know if I can be of help
in any way. Don’t get up. I’ll see myself out. I’ve got some plywood to cover the window. I’ll be back with it in half an hour.”

  “I appreciate that. And for all your help earlier.”

  After Frank left, Michael set about building a fire in the fireplace. He was surprised that the ashes were still warm. Ivan or his friend had recently had a blaze going here. When Michael had a decent fire burning to drive off the chill, he sat down to wait for Pastor Frank’s return. It wasn’t long before there was a knock at the door. He got up to answer it.

  Ivan stood on his doorstep looking dejected. Bethany stood behind him with her hand clamped on his shoulder.

  Michael tried to disguise his rising panic. What had the boy told her?

  Chapter Six

  Michael didn’t look happy to see her. Why should he be?

  Bethany kept her chin up in spite of the mortification that weighted her down. Her brother was bent on making it harder for him to remain with her. He should be improving his behavior but he wasn’t. Instead he had shown that she couldn’t keep him in line. Once again she was forced to apologize for his actions.

  She took a deep breath. “Good evening, Michael. I understand that Ivan broke one of the windows here. I’m truly sorry. I will have it replaced as soon as possible. In the meantime, my brother has something he wants to say to you.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ivan mumbled.

  It wasn’t much of an apology, but she let it pass. “He also told me you were hurt.”

  “I was startled. I tripped and fell but I wasn’t hurt. As you can see.”

  She couldn’t read Michael’s reaction. His face was blank. How upset was he? She wanted this awkward episode over as quickly as possible.

  “I’m sure that you and I can find a way for Ivan to make amends and decide on a punishment.”

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  Her brother wasn’t getting off the hook so easily this time. “I insist. He needs to take responsibility for what he has done.”

  “I agree, but Ivan and I will work out the details. He is old enough to decide what’s appropriate.”

  She pressed a hand to her chest. “As the adult in the family, I feel I should have a say in this.” Surely he wasn’t going to disregard her position as head of the family?

  “Ivan and I can reach an agreement that’s fair.”

  Her brother peered up at her. “I am old enough.”

  Michael nodded and stepped back. “Come in, Ivan, and we will discuss this. I’ll send him home after we get the window boarded up. The pastor has gone to get some plywood.”

  Ivan went inside the cabin and Michael closed the door, leaving Bethany standing on the porch feeling foolish as well as incompetent.

  She stomped back to the house but she couldn’t stop thinking about Michael’s high-handed attitude. She was responsible for Ivan. She should be a part of any discussion that involved her brother, not dismissed by some stranger as if she were a child.

  Inside the house she went to the linen closet and pulled out sheets, pillows and several quilts, knowing there weren’t any in the cabin. With her excuse for returning in hand, she headed out of the house. Michael Shetler had a thing or two to learn about dealing with her.

  * * *

  Ivan looked nervous but ready to accept his punishment. Michael walked over to the chair and sat down. The dog moved to sit beside his knee and leaned against his leg. He waited for the boy to speak first.

  Ivan stuffed his hands in his pant pockets. “I’m sorry about the broken window.”

  “It can be fixed. What sort of punishment do you think you deserve?”

  A flash of bitterness crossed Ivan’s features. It was gone before Michael could be certain of what he’d seen. He leaned forward. “Why didn’t Jeffrey stick around? Why didn’t he stay to make sure I was okay? He has been staying here, hasn’t he?”

  “His dad gets mad real easy. Jeffrey sometimes hangs out here when he does. He took off tonight because he was afraid of getting in trouble at home.”

  Ivan took a seat beside the dog. “What happened to your leg?”

  Michael wasn’t prepared to have the tables turned on him but something told him that Ivan could be trusted with at least part of the truth. It might be what the boy needed to hear. “I will tell you on one condition. I don’t want this mentioned to your sisters. Okay?”

  The boy nodded.

  “I was shot during a robbery.”

  “Are you joking?” Ivan’s eyes grew wide.

  “No joke.”

  “Wow. That’s— I mean—you are the only person I know who has been shot.”

  “I would rather you didn’t share the story with your sisters or your friends. It’s not a pretty memory for me and I don’t like pity.”

  “Sure. I can see you wouldn’t want people talking about it. Does it still hurt?”

  “All day every day but I was blessed. Other people died.”

  “People you knew?”

  “They were my friends.” Michael could feel his anxiety level rising as it did every time he thought about that night. Sadie Sue tried to climb in his lap and lick his face. He stroked her head and grew calmer.

  Ivan shook his head in disbelief. “That’s awful.”

  “The man who shot me, what kind of fellow do you think he was?”

  “Evil.”

  “You would think so, but he wasn’t much more than a scared boy pretending to be tough. Do you know what his first crime was?”

  “What?”

  “The first time he was arrested it was for stealing money from a neighbor. He was fourteen.”

  Ivan pinned his gaze to the floor. “Maybe he didn’t have a choice.”

  Michael pushed Sadie Sue off his lap. She sat quietly beside his chair and watched him intently.

  “We all have a choice. Your sister is mighty worried about you, Ivan.”

  The boy reached out and stroked the dog’s head. “What’s her name?”

  Michael let him skirt around the issue of his sister’s concern, knowing the boy would come back to it sooner or later. “I called her Mutt. Your sister, Jenny, named her Sadie Sue.”

  Ivan chuckled. “Sadie Sue. Only Jenny would think a dog needed a middle name.”

  “I like your little sister.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Bethany has treated me with kindness. She strikes me as a good woman.”

  “She treats me like I’m a little kid.”

  “Stop acting like one.”

  Ivan shot him a sour glare. “I don’t. She should treat me like the man of the family.”

  Michael shrugged. “Being the man of the house isn’t about how people treat you. The man of the family takes care of the people in his family. What have you done to take care of Bethany or Jenny lately? Think about it.”

  Ivan was silent for a few minutes. Finally, he looked up. “I don’t have the money to pay for a new window, but I’ll split wood for your fireplace for two weeks.”

  “A month.”

  “Okay, a month.”

  “And you are not going to skip school again, not even if Jeffrey asks you to do it.”

  Ivan tipped his head to the side. “How did you know Jeffrey asked me to skip with him?”

  “Because Jeffrey took off tonight and left you to face the consequences alone. Something tells me he is at the bottom of some of your troubles.”

  Ivan scrambled to his feet. “He’s my friend. You don’t know anything about him.”

  “You’re right. I don’t and I’m sorry. I was wrong to say that.”

  Ivan relaxed his stance. “My grandfather used to say a wise man is the one who can admit when he is wrong.”

  “I wish I’d had the chance to meet your grandfather. I owe him a lot.”

  “You w
ould have liked him.”

  “I’m sure of it. Ivan, you value your friend Jeffrey and rightly so, but don’t value your sisters less because of that friendship. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  “I think so.”

  “Catch up on your schoolwork and don’t skip.”

  “Okay.”

  “You should get on home now. Remember, take care of your sisters. Don’t expect them to treat you like you’re the man of the family. Be that man. The same way your grandfather was. They will respect you for that.”

  “I’ll try.”

  Sadie Sue rushed to the door and barked once. Michael got up and went to open it, expecting Frank. Bethany stood on his doorstep, her arms loaded with linens. “I knew you would need sheets and blankets.”

  “Come in.” He glanced at Ivan. Would the boy keep his secret? He hoped his trust wasn’t misplaced. “Ivan and I have come to an agreement.”

  Turning to Ivan, Michael held out his hand. “We have a deal, right?”

  “Right.” Ivan shook on it. “I have some homework to finish. See ya.” The boy went out the door, leaving Michael and Bethany alone.

  * * *

  Suddenly alone with Michael, Bethany stepped past him, determined to show him she wasn’t intimidated by his presence. “Where would you like these?”

  “On the bed will be fine.”

  How silly of her. Of course he would want sheets and pillows there. She crossed the room and tossed her burden on the foot of the bed. “I see you have a sleeping bag. You came prepared to rough it.”

  “It’s not mine. I think it belongs to Ivan’s friend Jeffrey. Apparently he stays here sometimes when his father is upset with him.”

  “I wasn’t aware of that. Was that the reason the doors were locked?”

  “It would be a good guess. What do you know about the boy?”

  “Not much. He’s been friends with Ivan since we arrived. His family lives over the ridge about a half mile as the crow flies but farther by road. His father drives a delivery truck. I don’t think the mother works.” She crossed her arms as she faced him. “But I’m not here to talk about Jeffrey.”