A Time to Heal

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."

"It's for business, not personal chatter."

"Ah, I see." Chris shoved his hands into his pockets and absorbed the quiet dusk settling down like an indigo cloak.

"You have any experience with gas engines?"

"I used to work on my car all the time."

"Maybe you can help me with the engine we were using on the conveyor belt yesterday."

"Be willing to try."

They walked to the barn and as Matthew started to pull the door open, Chris felt he had to say something.

"I'll make up that time I missed yesterday."

Matthew glanced at him. "I'm not docking you for that.When you were working you were doing twice the job I expected. I was beginning to worry that you were pushing yourself too hard." He hesitated for a moment.

"You got something to say, say it," Chris told him bluntly.

"I would. I will," Matthew amended. His eyes were direct on Chris. "Are you sure you didn't overdo and that's why you had the flashback?"

He shrugged. "I doubt it. It's more likely that . . ." he broke off.

"That you thought Hannah was in danger?"

"How'd you come to that conclusion?"

"I put two and two together." He smiled slightly. "And I talked to Hannah later. I know she can look out for herself, but I'll always be her big brother."

Buggies were pulling into the drive, filled with the men who would help that day. Chris wondered if anyone would say anything, but after an hour went by, he decided they'd been too far away yesterday to notice.

Working with horses instead of horsepower had felt strange at first but as the days passed, Chris became accustomed to a slower pace—more arduous, certainly, but with a lot of satisfaction as well. Chris liked partnering with another man to accomplish a task, but today he didn't mind working alone, tinkering with the engine. He thought it was interesting how the engine was prohibited in a tractor used for harvesting or in a car, but it could be used to help power a piece of machinery like a conveyor belt.

Matthew came into the barn to see how he was doing and to tell him dinner was ready. He appeared relieved to hear that the engine still had a lot of life in it. As they left the barn, Chris saw Hannah hanging laundry on the clothesline.

"Oh, you're doing the laundry," Matthew said as they stopped where she stood pinning up one of Annie's dresses.

"Some people would thank me for my help," she told him with some asperity as she bent down to pluck a pair of Joshua's pants from the basket of wet clothes.

"That means Jenny's doing the cooking."

Hannah stared at him, poker faced. Then she covered her mouth with her hand, but she couldn't stop the giggles.

"Oh, this is so wrong," she said. "We shouldn't poke fun at her. She tries so hard!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Chris saw someone approaching.Jenny. Should he tell them any second she'd hear them joking about her cooking?

Remembering how Hannah had behaved the last time he'd seen her, he decided to stay silent. He felt a little guilty that Matthew would take some heat. The guy had been good to him, especially after finding him in the loft with his sister. But it couldn't be helped.

"So, what's so funny?" Jenny asked brightly and Hannah jumped and spun around.

"Oh, nothing really."

"But you both were laughing so hard."

She looked from Hannah to Matthew and back again.

"Did you come out to tell us dinner is ready?" Matthew asked her.

Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. "You were talking about my cooking, weren't you?" She swatted him with the dish towel she carried in her hands.

"Oh, now why would we do that?" he said quickly, a little too quickly, for she looked even more suspicious.

Jenny turned to Chris. "That's what they were doing, right, Chris?"

He hadn't expected this. "Er, uh, now why would they do that?"

"Because my cooking's still not very good," she said honestly."Now tell the truth. That's what they were doing."

"I—" He held out his hands and shrugged.

"Did I tell you that I'm the farm's bookkeeper?" she asked, giving him a sweet smile. "I sign the paychecks."

"You sign my paycheck?"

She folded her arms across her chest. "Yes."

"Sorry, I'm giving you up for that," Chris told Hannah and grinned when she glared at him. "Yes, Jenny, they were making fun of your cooking."

"I think you should have an extra slice of pie for dessert," Jenny told him.

"Pie?"

"Shoofly pie."

When he hesitated, she frowned. "Phoebe made it."

"Oh, okay."

She tossed the dish towel at him. "You're no better than those two," she complained.

But she was smiling at him, so Chris didn't figure he could be in too much trouble with her.

"Hmmm. Phoebe brought over the pie."

"That she did, dear husband."

"I still get a piece of it, don't I?"

Chris saw Jenny's lips twitch.

"I'll need some convincing," she told him, giving him a smile.

Chris exchanged a look with Hannah.

"See you inside," she said and she slanted her head in the direction of the house.

Chris nodded, showing he understood the silent message.Chris and Hannah walked to the front of the house and climbed the porch steps. He opened the door for her.

As he followed her inside, he turned and wondered where Matthew and Jenny were, then he saw them silhouetted behind a bed sheet. It was obvious they were kissing.

"Newlyweds," Hannah said with a smile.

The explosion caught them unaware as they sat at the table eating.

Matthew jumped up and looked out the kitchen window."The barn's on fire! Jenny, go to the shed and call 911."

Chris shot out of his seat and followed Matthew out the door. Flames were licking up one side of the wooden barn.Before they got to the barn door, Eli came staggering out, waving his arms wildly, his shirt on fire.

Acting on instinct, Chris ran and tackled him, throwing him to the ground and using his hands to put out the flames.Groaning in pain, the man stared up at Chris, his eyes wide and terrified, his face blackened by the explosion.

"What happened?" he croaked.

"Lie still, help's on the way."

The shirt had burned off Eli and his skin was peeling, blistering, a burning bright red mass on his chest and arms.

"Are you okay?"

"Ya," he said. "I think so." He struggled to sit up. "I need to help."

Chris pushed him down, hoping he didn't hurt him further."You stay here."

Hannah raced over and dropped to her knees beside him."No, don't get up. Jenny's called for help."

"Got to—got to help them put out the fire," Eli gasped.

"Make him stay here," Chris told her. "The pain hasn't set in yet so he thinks he's okay but he's not."

He sprang to his feet and ran to help the other men throwing buckets of water from the water trough onto the fire. It seemed like hours, but only minutes later, Chris heard sirens heading toward the farmhouse. The local volunteer fire department arrived and began unfurling their hoses and spraying water on the blaze.

Paramedics grabbed their bags and ran to Eli. Relieved of his firefighting detail by those more experienced, Chris walked over to watch them check Eli's vitals, insert an IV, and do some preliminary treatment of the burns.

Though Eli protested, they placed him on a gurney and took him to a waiting ambulance. The vehicle pulled away, siren blaring, and raced down the road.

Chris stood with Matthew, Jenny, and Hannah and watched as the men extinguished the fire. A large gaping hole showed in the side of the barn, the edges of the wood blackened and smoking. The stench of smoke lingered on the air.

"Thank goodness the horses were out in the field," Hannah told Matthew as she rubbed his back with her hand.

Matthew had the look of a shell-shocked soldier in the field.

"I don't understand what happened," he said. "Did Eli say what happened?"

Jenny put her hand on her husband's arm. "He was in shock."

"I should go to the hospital and see how he is."

A man separated himself from the group of firemen who were talking and walked over to them.

"Are you the property owner?" he asked Matthew.

"Yes."

"I understand you heard some kind of loud noise before the barn caught on fire? Any idea what could have caused it?"

"No, I don't understand it, we're careful, all of us, with what we do and what we store in the barn."

The man nodded and looked at the barn. "They're always a problem. Wood structure, hay, equipment . . ."

He flipped open a pocket on his shirt, dug out a small notebook and pen and jotted something down. Then he glanced up at them.

"I'll be back tomorrow when things cool down to look around some more. Keep everyone out, okay? Don't want anyone messing with evidence, just in case."

The firefighters loaded their hoses onto the truck, climbed aboard, and drove away.

"Evidence?" Hannah said, frowning. "What does he mean by that?"

"I'm sure it's nothing," Jenny reassured her. "No one around here would deliberately set fire to our barn. Come on, Matthew, let's borrow my grandmother's buggy and go to the hospital to see about Eli."

They started to walk away and then Jenny stopped and clapped a hand to her mouth. "Oh, Hannah, the children will be home from school soon. Can you—"

"Don't worry about a thing," Hannah said quickly. "I'll take care of everything."

After they left, Chris walked over to the barn.

"He said not to go near it—"

Waving a hand at her, Chris moved a little closer and peered into the blackened barn. The family buggy had collapsed into a heap of burned rubble; the horse stalls still smoked. Farm tools were blistered by the heat of the fire. The table where Chris had worked on the engine lay broken in many pieces on the dirt floor.

He wondered if the structure might be safe enough to repair it or if it would have to be torn down and rebuilt. Well, it would have to wait until they were finished harvesting. Getting the crops in had to be first. No matter what happened, the family depended on the money they would bring in.

Sighing, he shook his head. Something nagged at him, something he couldn't put his finger on.

"I'm making some kaffi," Hannah said. "Do you want some?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, that would be great. Thanks."

He followed her back inside. The remains of their dinner lay on the table, sandwiches dropped on plates and cups on their side amidst a puddle of coffee.

"Oh," Hannah said, then she looked at him. "I should have thought to ask you . . . we'd barely started eating. You must still be hungry. I'll fix you something."

He shook his head. "I'm not hungry. Are you?"

She pressed a hand against her stomach. "No, I couldn't eat.Not after seeing what happened to Eli—" she shuddered.

Chris picked up a plate, scraped the contents into the trash can, and put it into the sink. He noticed that she didn't tell him that she'd do it and to sit down because he was a guest.Clearly, she'd been rattled by what had happened.

He watched her out of the corner of his eye as she dumped the cold coffee in the sink, filled up the percolator with fresh water, and measured out ground coffee. She set the percolator on the stove, turned on the flame, and sighed as she looked around the kitchen.

"You're sure you're not hungry? I can warm up the soup, make new sandwiches."

He shook his head. "Just the coffee."

The liquid heated and began to beat with a rhythmic music against the clear glass knob at the top of the pot. It was a familiar sound he remembered from sitting in his grandmother's kitchen. A soothing one. The newer electric coffee makers just didn't make the same sound or give the process a homey feel.

The rich aroma of it brewing took him back to sitting at the table in his grandmother's kitchen just before he deployed.She'd made him coffee and served him a plate of his favorite cookies—oatmeal raisin—and pressed a box of them to his chest as he left the house. Later, he'd known something had happened to her, even before the chaplain notified him. There hadn't been the usual weekly care package of cookies at mail call.

He shook his head, forcing the memory away, as Hannah set a cup of coffee before him.

Instead of sitting down to drink a cup herself, she started filling the sink with hot water.

"Sit down," he said. "I'll help you with them after you have a cup too."

She continued to stand at the sink and he saw her look out the window.

"Don't," he repeated. "We need to take a break first."

She started to argue and then she nodded. "Let me finish putting them in water. They'll be easier to clean that way."

But when she sat, he noticed that she just stirred and stirred the coffee without drinking it.

And his own coffee cooled as Chris stared into his own cup as he tried to figure out what had happened to Eli and the barn.