A Time to Heal

13



Aenti Hannah? You need to come see Daisy."

Hannah turned and looked at Joshua. "Why?"

"I think she's sick."

"Let's go take a look." Hannah wiped her hands on a dish cloth and followed Joshua out of the house. She'd been so busy canning she hadn't noticed the time.

Daisy, indeed, did not look well. She was stumbling and bumping against her stall, and her eyes were wide and unfocused.Her skin looked clammy too.

"Daisy? Poor thing, you're not feeling well?"

One look in her stall and Hannah saw that Daisy hadn't touched her food or water last night.

"Joshua, go get your daedi," Hannah said quietly.

Her nephew went flying from the stall and ran smack into Chris.

"Daisy's sick," Joshua told him. "I have to get daedi."

"Matthew's gone to town." Chris moved closer. "Is there anything I can do? We had horses on the farm."

Hannah walked closer to the horse and raised her hand to touch her to check for fever. The horse, normally a placid mare, reacted with wide rolling eyes and reared back, showing her teeth.

An arm wrapped around Hannah's waist and she was swept up and off her feet, away from the horse. The world spun.

"What—" she sputtered as she realized Chris had lifted her as if she weighed as little as her niece Annie.

"You were about to get hurt!"

"Daisy wouldn't hurt me!" she protested. "We've had her for years."

He set her down, safely away from the horse.

"Sssh, there, girl," he said to the horse as he moved closer slowly, very slowly. "You wouldn't have meant to hurt Hannah, but you're feeling very sick, aren't you?"

Hannah pressed a hand to her heart and felt it racing at the sudden protective movement Chris had made. She didn't want to admit it, but he was probably right. Daisy wasn't acting like herself at all, and she'd known a momentary fear when the horse reared back like that.

It was the second time he'd reacted with such speed and strength to protect her.

"I don't think Matthew's intending to be back for a couple of hours."

Hannah looked at Daisy and bit her lip. "Joshua, go get Phoebe. Be quick."

The boy ran. Chris walked forward. "Something's definitely wrong with her."

Hannah studied Daisy. The horse had moved a step closer to Chris when he approached. Hannah had noticed the horse really seemed to like Chris.

But when he tried to stroke the horse's nose, Daisy wasn't having any of it. She whinnied and backed away.

"Something's definitely wrong with her," he agreed as he glanced around inside the stall. "Might be colic."

"She had colic once and she didn't behave like this."

Chris stepped closer and talked soothingly to the horse.She shied from him the way she had with Hannah, curled back her lips, and showed her teeth. But he persisted quietly, soothing her, and she let him reach out and touch her jawbone under her cheek. Hannah remembered how his touch had felt the night before.

"Be careful, she could bite you," Hannah warned.

"You won't bite me, will you, girl?" He felt around and gently pressed the vein on the inside of the jawbone, his mouth moving as he counted and watched the second hand moving on the dial of his watch.

"Her pulse is very fast," Chris told Hannah. "Since Matthew will be gone a while, I don't think you should wait. Go call your vet now. I'll stay with her."

Hannah hurried from the stall and met Phoebe halfway to the house.

"Joshua says Daisy is sick? This came on suddenly. She was fine yesterday."

"Chris says we need to call the vet right away."

Phoebe nodded. "You go call. I'll sit with her until he gets here."

The number for the vet was in an address book inside the telephone shanty. With shaking fingers, Hannah dialed the number and told the vet what symptoms Daisy was experiencing.

She returned to the barn and they waited for the vet to arrive.

Daisy seemed to grow worse by the minute. For the first time since she'd lived with them, she lay down in the stall and wouldn't get up. Her breathing grew labored.

The three of them knelt on the hay. Chris wiped Daisy's damp skin with a towel while Hannah and Phoebe prayed.

Hannah began to wonder if the vet would be able to get there in time. She felt tears sliding down her cheeks as she tried to comfort Phoebe.

It felt like hours before the vet got there, but it was no more than half an hour. The man strode in, did a quick exam, and looked around her stall. Then he pulled out a huge syringe and gave Daisy an injection.

"That should make her feel better," he said, pulling out a plastic IV bag filled with clear liquid. "I'm giving her some fluid since she's dehydrated."

"What's the matter with her?"

"I'm not sure. I think she may have eaten something that didn't agree with her."

He pulled a plastic zip-lock bag and a lab tube from his medical case and scooped up some of the feed in her stall. He put it in the bag and filled the tube with some of Daisy's water, then put both into his bag.

"Why did you do that?" Phoebe wanted to know.

"It's rare, but occasionally something will get into an animal's food or water. The lab'll check it out and I should have the test results in a day or so. In the meantime, get rid of that food and water and put in new feed from another bag. Are the other horses okay?"

"They're fine," Phoebe told him.

The vet frowned and then he nodded. "That's what makes me think she ate something that didn't agree with her, that it isn't the food she and the other horses were eating."

He gave Daisy a final look. "Someone should keep an eye on her until she's better. You have my number if she should turn worse. Otherwise, I'll be back tomorrow morning."

Hannah could see the worry written on Phoebe's face. Daisy had been a gift from Phoebe's mann years ago, and she wasn't just a horse but a member of the family.

"Why don't you sit with her for a few hours while I finish the canning?" Hannah suggested. "She seems calmer with you here."

Hannah suspected that Daisy would probably need watching tonight; she could spare Phoebe from spending the cool night hours there.

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. I'll call you when supper's ready."

Chris had been standing back while the vet took care of the horse and now he backed away. "If you don't need me I'll see what else I can do outside. If Matthew's back I'll send him over to talk to you about Daisy."

Phoebe touched Chris's arm. "Danki for helping, Chris."

"I was happy to do so," he told her, taking her hand and squeezing it gently. "Try not to worry."

Phoebe nodded. "I don't. I believe—"

"Worrying is arrogant because God knows what He's doing," Hannah finished with a smile.

Chuckling, Phoebe smiled. "I guess I say that a lot."

Hannah bent to kiss her head. "I don't know about that.But it's a wonderful way to live. I'll finish the canning and start supper. You call me if you need anything."

"Uh, not to worry but—" Chris started.

"Ya?"

"I'd feel better if you don't get too close to Daisy. She was acting pretty wild earlier, almost lashed out at Hannah."

He glanced back at Hannah and gave her a slight smile."Not that Daisy wanted to hurt her, but she isn't feeling well."

"Is there something else you can sit on—" he began and then he spotted an old beat-up chair in the corner of the barn.He dragged it over.

Phoebe had been sitting on a bale of hay. She started to get to her feet and her movements were so stiff and jerky Chris that reacted immediately, taking her arm and helping her up.

"Old bones," she said self-deprecatingly. "Danki."

"My pleasure, ma'am."

Hannah saw her frown and she thought about how much harder it seemed to be for the older woman to get around these days. She wondered, as she had several times recently, if she should try seriously broaching the subject of their moving Phoebe's things to a first-floor bedroom again. Phoebe was looking so tired and pale now.

Distracted, Hannah looked at Chris when she realized that he was saying something to her. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I'm going back to work. Yell if you need anything. I'll check in later."

She nodded. "Danki."

Once she saw that Phoebe was safely settled, Hannah hurried back to the kitchen. As quickly as she could, she finished up the canning, lined up her day's work on the counter, and turned to prepare supper. The sooner she got Phoebe to come in and eat, the sooner she'd get her to rest.

Daisy had to get better. She just had to.

Chris stood under the shower and let the water beat on his sore back.

Farming the Amish way was definitely harder work. But in some strange way, it was more satisfying. He shook his head at that, scattering droplets of water. Funny thought. He loved technology—or so he'd thought.

But the fact was, he hadn't really missed anything from his modern world so far. Well, maybe television, just a little. After all, he'd watched a lot of it at the hospital. What else could you do when patients came and went; it had been hard to make friends and keep them.

Except for the long-termers—the patients who were there for an extended time recovering from serious conditions and doing physical therapy. Trouble was, sometimes it made it seem like you'd been there even longer when you heard them say something about their length of stay. Keeping spirits up became a daily struggle.

He saw a smaller circle of people here in Paradise. Funny, he'd used the word circle. But that's what it seemed like, a circle. People were closely bound here, eager to help with the harvest—the way his men had bonded over a task.

Well, except for one. One man had never seemed part of them, and he'd ended up bringing them all down.

Chris turned off the shower, toweled dry, and dressed. He kept a close eye on the time. It wouldn't do to be late for supper.Jenny ran a tight ship with the meal on the table, dishes washed, and children in bed by a certain time. Bedtime came early here.

He made it to the table with time to spare, his offer of help turned down, as usual. They treated him like family, but he was still a guest who wasn't supposed to set the table or wash the dishes.

Supper was a noisy gathering of the children sharing events of their day, what Chris had always thought of as "chowing down" on big bowls and platters of home-cooked and homegrown food, and then good coffee and conversation with adults afterward.

Chris stood on the porch of the dawdi haus later, watching the sun set over fields that were nearly harvested. His time here was coming to an end, and he was strangely reluctant to leave. Somehow it felt more like home than home had felt when he was there after being in the hospital.

He didn't mind the early bedtime here. It was enjoyable to lie on the big soft mattress, under sheets and a quilt that smelled of the sun, and read a book by the gentle glow of the battery lantern. Sometimes he read the Bible, sometimes the library book or a farming book Matthew loaned him. The window was always cracked open to let in the breeze and nature's music instead of the radio or recorded music he'd always listened to in the evenings.

A sense of peace, something he'd craved with an urgency akin to the worst hunger he'd ever experienced, had begun to steal over him. He was healing here in a way that didn't happen in a hospital. His restlessness and inner conflict was fading.

Except for the inner conflict he felt whenever he thought about the woman who lived next door.

He got up and looked out the window. There was a gentle glow of a lantern in the barn. Someone was obviously up with Daisy. He thought about how he'd promised Hannah that he'd look in later, but had decided against it when Matthew said he'd check in on her.

Joshua had begged to go along too. He worried that he'd done something wrong when he helped Chris take care of her the night before she'd fallen sick. Matthew pointed out to his son that people and animals often got sick while those around them didn't.

Chris went over and over what he'd done to feed and water her but there hadn't been anything out of the ordinary. And the other horses were healthy, so he suspected she'd just eaten something when she'd been out in the pasture.

He dressed, pulled on sneakers, and let himself out of the house.

As he walked the distance between the two farms, he thought about how nice it was that the two families lived so close together. He wondered if it was a case of Jenny falling in love with the boy next door all those years ago.

Funny thing, Hannah was the girl next door right now. She was so different from the girls he'd dated before he went into the Army: outspoken, unaffected, loving.

And so not someone even remotely in his league.

He pushed open the barn door, and she turned around and looked at him. The lantern light cast a soft glow on her as she sat on the old chair near Daisy.

She touched her forefinger to her lips as he approached."She's sleeping. I think she's doing a little better," she said quietly.

He approached and looked down at the horse. She did look a little better.

"The vet stopped by on his way home and he gave her a shot," Hannah told him. "Phoebe was worried, so I told her I'd stay up with Daisy for a little while."

Chris pulled a bale of hay over and sat on it. "Mind if I keep you company for a little while?"

He saw her eyes shift to the barn door.

"Problem?"

She shrugged. "Single men and women aren't supposed to be alone together like this."

"Sorry, I didn't realize," he said. "Should I open the barn door for propriety's sake?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Are you laughing at me?"

"No, of course not! How could you think that?"

She folded her arms across her chest. "I suppose it sounds . . . quaint to you."

"Hannah, I wouldn't dream of being critical of you or anyone here," he said quietly. "Everyone's been very welcoming to me."

"Except for Josiah."

"Well, yeah, except for Josiah," he acknowledged. "Do you want me to open the barn door?"

She sighed. "No, it's all right."

It was quiet for a long time except for the soft noises of horses shifting in their stalls and settling in to rest for the night.

Chris glanced at Hannah and she blushed and looked away.A few moments later, when she thought he wasn't looking, he saw her glancing at him.

Neither of them mentioned the kiss the night before.

Then Chris broke the silence by telling Hannah about Annie's adventure at school that day.

"That Annie," she said, laughing and shaking her head. "She has such a colorful way of telling a story, doesn't she? I have no doubt she'll be a writer just like her mamm."

"They make quite a family, don't they?" he mused. "Jenny talked about how she was engaged to Matthew and going to be a stepmother when we met at the veteran's hospital. "

"Kinner respond to love," Hannah said simply. "They can tell Jenny truly loves them."

An easy silence fell between them for a time.

"Why did you become a soldier?"

His eyes widened. "Where did that come from?"

She shrugged. "Just wondered."

"It's a tradition in our family," he told her slowly. "Goes back to my great-grandfather's time. The men volunteer for a tour of duty. My parents actually met when my mother was a nurse in the veteran's hospital where he was sent."

"Was he injured the same way as you?"

"No, thank goodness."

Chris fell silent for a moment. Then again, if his father had experienced the same things he had in his military service, he might have understood what Chris had gone through. Nothing about his duty or his injuries had been within the scope of his father's understanding.

But he wouldn't wish that on anyone anyway. Even if it made for better rapport.

"Did they come to see you in the hospital?"

"Sure."

She nodded. "That's what families do."

He stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles."Well, that's what a lot of families do, but not all. There were a lot of patients there who never got a visit. Sometimes it was because their families were too far away, but sometimes it was because they didn't get along."

"People aren't perfect. Families aren't perfect—even here."

"You're right. I've been around you and your family and none of you pretend to be perfect, or to be saints."

She laughed and Daisy moved her head and snorted in her sleep. Clapping her hand over her mouth, Hannah's eyes danced above her hand as she waited for the horse to settle again.

"Saints we're not," she whispered when Daisy settled again.

"Not even you?"

"Especially not me. You know I'm nosy and impatient—"

"No!" he said sharply. "That's not true."

Her eyebrows shot up at his vehemence.

"I might have thought that in the beginning. But you're just inquisitive . . . eager to understand. And you're one of the kindest people I know. So don't go putting yourself down."

He got to his feet, avoiding her startled glance, and took a closer look at Daisy. Then he met her eyes. "I'll go if you want me to."

She hesitated for a moment. "Like I said, we shouldn't be alone together."

Now it was his turn to raise his brows. "Surely it's not right to leave a woman alone in a barn all night."

She lifted her shoulders and then let them fall. "No. Matthew offered to come over, but I didn't want him to. He needs his sleep during a busy time like this." She sighed. "Stay for a while. It's nice to have company."

He sat again and after a moment, they began talking again, only this time, they talked about the horses, the harvest, the weather. Everyday stuff. Nothing deep and personal.

The long day under the sun, the physical work, and the big dinner Jenny had served him finally took its toll. Chris felt himself doing what his buddies called "chicken pecking"— falling asleep and the minute the chin touches the chest you jerk awake. He told himself he should just give in and go to bed, but it didn't seem fair to leave a woman alone in the barn in the middle of the night caring for a sick horse.

So he joked and apologized and accepted the coffee she made and brought out for them.

She'd said she was just staying up a little while longer but clearly she wasn't leaving, too worried about the horse. He was convinced he could pull an all-nighter. After all, he'd done it during his military duty. Hannah was keeping her eyes open.He became determined to do so too.

He dreamed.

It was one of those dreams where you knew you were sleeping.Where you tried to wake yourself up. But you kept on dreaming because it was so pleasant where you were.

Chris walked through the field of corn, the sun warm on his shoulders, the sky a bright blue overhead.

If there was any place he felt at home, this was it. And this was his home at last. He'd plowed the fields in the way it had been done for so many years, here in Lancaster County. Planted the seed. Nurtured and prayed over it. Then given to God the glory of the bountiful harvest.

His feet sank a little into the soft soil as he walked down a row of cornstalks, healthy and tall and green, topped by golden tassels. He pulled down an ear, shucked its green covering to reveal the kernels within, and smiled and nodded with satisfaction.

He grew several crops, as did Matthew on the adjoining farm, but corn was his favorite. It reminded him of all the happy years he'd enjoyed growing up on the family farm in Kansas. He couldn't wait to harvest the corn and try out the first ears, boiling them in a huge metal pot right out in the fields the way his father had always done. They'd be served with real butter slathered on them and be almost enough to eat all by themselves.

But of course Hannah wouldn't allow that. She'd insist that they had to have something else: some fried or baked chicken and her special potato salad. And, of course, some pie. She'd become quite a baker since she'd lived with Phoebe. She was considered one of the top bakers in the community, and that was saying something with all the fabulous cooks here.

A flock of birds flew up suddenly, and he saw Hannah walking toward him, smiling. The fall breeze fluttered the strings to her kapp and molded the fabric of her dress against her body, outlining her shape. Her lips were parted in a smile that reached all the way to her blue eyes.

The ear of corn fell from his hands and he began walking toward her, meeting her halfway.

He cupped her cheeks in his hands, marveling at the softness of her skin. She gazed at him with such love. What had he ever done to deserve her? When he'd first come here, he thought life had dealt him a really rough deal, that somehow he'd been punished for doing what he thought was the right thing.

But now? Well, now he had everything he could ever hope for: a healing of his spirit, and the true peace that came with knowing God loved him, not just this woman.

Everything else was better than he could have ever imagined . . . he and Hannah owned this farmhouse and land since Phoebe had offered to sell it to them after they were married and move into the dawdi haus at the back of Matthew and Jenny's farmhouse. He had friends and family who loved him, who welcomed him into their church, their lives, their community.

Hannah kissed him fervently, surprising him. They'd exchanged kisses, of course, since they had become engaged.But she'd never shown him quite so powerfully how much she had missed him that day.

"Sweetheart, I love you, too, but we shouldn't stand out here kissing like this," he said as she continued to kiss him.It was torture, but he tried to pull away. He was trying hard to fit into the community and such passionate displays of affection—even between those who were engaged—was considered unseemly. He didn't want to get in bad graces with the bishop.

"Please, darling, I—"

There were giggles. It sounded like more than one person.He opened his eyes and stared up into pink rubbery lips, a big wet tongue, and breath that smelled like it could knock a tree over.

Daisy!

Not only did she look like she was feeling better, she was giving him big, sloppy, horsey kisses as Hannah and Phoebe looked on and laughed uproariously.

Chris struggled to sit up on the hay bale and carefully pushed Daisy away. "Well, look who's feeling better," he said, feeling his cheeks redden.

"Who were you talking to?" Hannah asked, trying but failing to look innocent.

Chris couldn't help it. He shook his head and then gave in and laughed with them.