A Time To Heal (13 page)

“Now I
know
he doesn't like me.”

Hannah waved at Josiah. “He's just protective of the community.Doesn't like outsiders. And someone told me he's always been a little grumpy. His wife kept him from being that way when she was alive, but now that she's passed, well, there's no one to temper that, I suppose.”

The clip-clopping of Daisy's hooves was the only sound for a while.

“Who's going to do that for me?” he heard her mutter.

“What?”

But she wouldn't answer him. He'd caught glimpses that all wasn't placid beneath her surface. He wondered why.

She was the most interesting woman he'd ever met. But she was also probably the most different woman from any he'd known in his life. Their worlds didn't mix.

Besides, he'd felt like he had the worst luck with women.He'd dated just like any other guy in high school, just not very often before he'd gone off to do his military service. He'd worked up the nerve to ask Bobbie Joe to be his steady and had even given her a promise ring. She'd written him overseas a number of times but abruptly dropped him over “the trouble” as she called it.

Now, of course, he was glad she had. Who knew how much worse it might have been if she'd done it after he was injured.

The library was their next stop.

Hannah decided to look for some books for her nieces and nephew and maybe a book on quilt patterns. They agreed to meet back at the front door in twenty minutes.

Chris headed straight for the computers available for public use. He sat beside an elderly woman who was looking at photos of children. “My grandchildren,” she told him proudly as she scrolled through the shots.

A teen sat on the other side of him, casting nervous glances around. Chris didn't know if he was looking at something he shouldn't or if he was playing truant from school.

Chris logged on and pulled up his e-mail account. There were just a few that had been sent in the last couple weeks: one from his brother, Steve; one a reminder about a bill; and two from the buddies that had stuck by him through The Trouble.

He opened the one from his brother first. It was the usual— a mild complaint that he hadn't written for weeks and asking if he was enjoying his travels. It ended, as most e-mails from his brother did, with a request that Chris give him a call when he could. So he wrote an apology, explained that he was having a great time in Lancaster, and that he would call soon.

Of course, if he really intended to do that, he'd have to do something about his cell phone. When the battery on his cell had first run down, Matthew offered to charge it for him in the barn. Since so many of the Plain people ran businesses, he'd told Chris that cell phones were allowed for such. But Chris got few calls and really didn't care. So time passed and it lay in his backpack.

Taking care of some bills was next. And then Chris clicked on the first of the two messages from buddies. Jokester Brian told a joke so raw it made Chris glance around like the nervous teen next to him to make sure no one was reading it over his shoulder.

The next e-mail was from Jack, a rambling litany of complaints about life in the “private sector” by a former soldier buddy who'd complained nonstop during his time in the military.Chris had thought he'd be happier getting out, but now he wondered if Jack was the type of person who wasn't happy anywhere.

His hands stilled on the keyboard. He wondered if he was like Jack. He'd been so eager to get out of the hospital—get back to normal, everyday life. And the farm. He'd been so looking forward to being back on the farm.

And then, when he got there, the farm was much as it had been for years, but it felt different. No longer familiar. No longer home.

His family hadn't changed. He supposed he should be happy about that; all of them were just the way they'd been when he went overseas, just a little older. His brother, Steve, still talked about finding a good woman to help him run the farm. Aunt Bess still kept Uncle Joe in line. And his dad claimed it was time for Steve to do some work, so he went fishing when he could.

They hadn't changed, but he had—in ways they couldn't possibly understand. He tried to talk to his father and to Steve, but they had no frame of reference at all for what he tried to communicate to them. His father had served in Germany, his brother one tour during the early days of Desert Storm.

They looked away from his injuries and their discomfort when the pain he'd suffered caused
them
pain. They couldn't understand why he'd put himself through the
trouble.
Sure, one of the men who served under his command had done something wrong, but couldn't he have looked the other way? Hadn't he considered the consequences to himself?

“Young man? Young man?”

Chris blinked and came back to the present. The older woman sitting beside him was staring at him curiously.

“Can you show me how to print these out?”

“Sure.” He explained the steps and the printer hummed and spit out picture after picture of smiling plump-cheeked children.

Returning to the computer, Chris logged out of his e-mail account and did a Google search. After inputting the name “Malcolm Kraft,” he saw several hundred results come up.Clicking on the first one, he read about the event he was so familiar with, an event that had forever changed his life.

Funny thing, he thought darkly, how bad things could turn so quickly, how they could go so differently from how you thought they would. How what you did in the name of morality could turn so many people against you, including the most important.

Why had God let so many bad things rain down on him when he thought he was doing the right thing?

The story was more than a year old, so he skipped ahead since the events were etched on his brain. What he was hoping to find was that Kraft was still safely tucked away where he should be—prison. He'd felt he had to do this every few months. Too often there were stories of people being released from prison early. Kraft had promised at the sentencing that things weren't over between them. It wasn't wise to ignore the threat.

Tapping the keyboard, he searched the library system for the book that had been recommended to him by his buddy.Relieved to find they had two copies, he glanced up to see where Hannah was and saw her over in the children's section, looking like she'd be a while.

He clicked back to his Google search for Kraft and went from one story to the next when he realized Hannah was standing next to him. Quickly he hit the back button and the screen for the book he wanted came up.

She held out a book called
Learn a New Word Every Day.
“I think Annie will like this one.”

Sitting down in a chair next to him, she searched her purse for her wallet and pulled out her library card. “I thought you wanted to get a book.”

Chris jumped up. “Sorry, I'll get it and we can be on our way.”

“There's no rush—” she called after him.

“Nice young man,” the woman beside her said. “Helped me print out photos of my grandkids.”

“I see.”

She glanced at the computer Chris had been using and wondered why he'd hit the back button so quickly when he looked up and saw her standing there.

Repeating his action, she glanced curiously at the list of articles about some man serving time in a military prison. Her heart in her throat, she skimmed the contents of the article quickly, hoping Chris wasn't involved somehow.

Something moved in the periphery of her vision and when she looked up, she saw him crossing the library, a book in his hand.

“You said Chris showed you how to print something?” she said to the woman. “Can you show me?”

“Oh, sure, hon.”

The woman leaned over and used the mouse to click on a bar on the top of the screen and there was a whirring noise from the printer beside Hannah. She looked for Chris and saw him searching a shelf, his back to her. Keeping her eyes on him, Hannah reached for the page printing out and quickly folded it into a square that she tucked into her pocket.

“Thank you for the help,” she told the woman.

“I didn't think the Amish were allowed to use computers.“The woman gathered up her sheets of paper and slid them into a manila envelope and stood.

“They're allowed for business,” she said with a smile. “As long as we don't bring electricity into the home for them.”

Jenny used a laptop for her writing and she had to take it to the barn to recharge it. She'd told Hannah she loved writing in longhand best and then typed her work on the computer.Sometimes when she needed to do research she came to this library; several times she'd brought Hannah and shown her how to look up quilt patterns on the computer.

Hannah chatted with the woman at the next computer for a few minutes. The woman was clearly enjoying working on the computer since she said she didn't have one at home. That news surprised Hannah. She thought every
Englisch
person had a computer.

“Ready to go?” Chris said as he walked up.

“Yes, sure.” She gave his book a curious glance. It was a book that looked to be about a soldier, with unforgiving in the title.

They walked to the circulation desk and Chris waved at Hannah to go first. She checked out her books and then waited for him to get his.

But the clerk frowned when Chris asked if he could apply for a card to check out his book. “If you could please step over here so other people can check out their books, sir.”

He did as she asked and Hannah moved out of the way also.The librarian handed him an application. Chris dutifully filled it out and handed it over. When she asked for identification he pulled out his driver's license.

“This isn't local.”

“No. I'm from Kansas.”

“Are you living here? Can you supply me with some proof of residence here?”

“He's staying with us.”

“Can you give me proof of that?”

Hannah shook her head.

Chris pushed the book toward the librarian. “Thanks anyway.”

“No, here,” Hannah said, holding out her card. “I'll check it out.”

“You do realize that you're responsible for the book should it not be returned, ma'am?”

“Of course.”

The book was duly checked out and Hannah accepted her card back. She and Chris walked out and climbed into the buggy.

“Maybe I should go buy the book at the bookstore,” Chris told her as Hannah called to Daisy to get them moving.

“Why should you do that when we have the book now?”

“'You do realize that you're responsible for the book should it not be returned, ma'am?'” he mimicked the librarian.

She smiled slightly. “She was just doing her job. It's her responsibility to make sure the rules are followed. You'd understand since you're a keeper of the rules, too, wouldn't you? As someone who'd served in the military?”

He eyed her oddly. “That's an interesting way to put it.You mean, like I'm used to following the rules, obeying authority?”

Her left hand slipped inside her pocket to feel the folded paper there.

“Yeah, I guess so. Where's this going?”

“Nowhere,” she said. “Nowhere at all. Thanks for going with me today.”

“It was fun. Really.”

“You didn't enjoy the visit to the quilt shop.”

“Sure I did. Well, until all of you ganged up on me.”

She grinned. “You mustn't mind them. They love to tease.”

“It's a nice shop. You really enjoy making quilts and teaching there, don't you? I could tell from the time we walked inside.”

She nodded. “At first, I did it to help out—”

“Because you always help when someone needs you.”

Frowning, she looked at him. “Of course, that's not a bad thing.”

“No, it's not,” he said slowly. “You're a good person. But I wonder how much you do for yourself.”

“And what about you?”

“Me?”

“You're a good man,” she said. “You could be having a vacation instead of helping Matthew.”

Their glances locked and something passed between them, unspoken but powerful. When Hannah looked away, she saw that they had traveled several blocks. Good thing Daisy knew her way, she thought. If she'd been driving a car, Hannah knew she'd have gone off the road.

“You've already thanked me. Everyone has. It's no big deal.I had plenty of time off when I was in the hospital.”