“Your cinnamon rolls are the best,” he said loyally, then he dug into his meal and didn't say another word.
Chris couldn't help being surprised to see Jenny dressed in Amish clothes, with a plain high-necked dress with long sleeves. Her dress was a rich blue, though—not dark like Phoebe's—and the color made her skin glow. The happiness he saw in her eyes convinced him that he'd been right to come here to talk to her.
She reached to wipe Annie's chin with her napkin, and Chris saw that she didn't wear a wedding ring. A quick glance at Matthew's left hand showed that he didn't either.
Some men didn't wear a wedding ring, but he'd never known a married woman who didn't wear one. Wondering at that, he looked away and saw that Hannah watched him. She frowned.
Jenny was full of questions. “So when did you get out of the hospital? What are you doing now?”
She stopped and bit her lip, then grinned at him. “Sorry. It's the reporter in me. I was born asking questions.”
“You talked when you were borned?” asked Annie, looking at her. “I thought babies couldn't do that.”
“It's an expression,” Joshua said. He rolled his eyes, caught his father looking at him, and bent his head over his plate again.
“You're one of
Mamm's Englisch
friends?” Mary asked him as she passed the basket of rolls. “Were you with her overseas?”
Chris shook his head. “I was overseas but I did a different kind of work.”
He hesitated and glanced at Jenny and Matthew, wondering if he should say any more. But although they didn't signal him with their expressions that he should censure what he said, he decided to change the subject.
“I met your mother at the hospital here in the States.” He spread butter on his second roll. “These have got to be the best rolls I've ever eaten. The whole meal is wonderful.”
“Have a second helping,” Phoebe invited, handing him the meatloaf platter.
“I already have,” he confessed.
“Three shows you really appreciated it,” she told him with a twinkle in her eye.
“And you were
hungerich,”
Annie told him. “Your
bauch
went groowwwl like a lion!”
“Annie!” Matthew looked stern.
“No, she's right!” Chris said, laughing. “I guess I was really hungry for supper, wasn't I?”
“So did you come here for vacation, Chris?” Jenny asked as she got up to serve dessert.
“Yes,” he said. “I remembered you'd told me you lived here and decided to look you up. I wondered if you could show me around a little.”
“Oh, I wish you'd let me know you were coming. I have to be in New York for a few days this week,” Jenny told him, looking distressed as she stood beside the table with a pie.
“It's okay. I should have called or written first.”
Jenny placed the pie on the table and began cutting it.“Maybe Hannah could take you around?”
He glanced at Hannah and glimpsed a frown before she quickly schooled her features into a bland mask.
“Of course,” Hannah said politely.
“There's no need if you're busy—”
“I'd be more than happy to do it,” she insisted, handing him a plate with a piece of pie on it. “Here, you must try Jenny's pecan pie. It's her best pie.”
She handed him a plate with a slice on it and met his eyes.In them he saw wariness instead of the aware, intense look he'd seen when she'd lain breathless on the hayloft and stared up at him.
Something had changed in the minutes since they'd left the barn. And it hadn't been for the better.
Perhaps her brother's suspicion had rubbed off on her.
But Hannah couldn't help wondering if she really wanted to be with this man again for any length of time. Jenny had said he'd been a soldier—might still be—and Hannah had lived her whole life as a member of a Plain community. They were as opposite as opposites could get.
She didn't blame him for being a soldier. That wasn't her business. God alone—not man or woman—was the sole judge of man. But what would she have to say? Would he judge her and her community the way she'd so often seen others do? Had he come here to see them as a tourist attraction?
Yet there was something that didn't seem quite right. He didn't seem like the “type” of person who came to visit the area as so many had done in recent years. Some were interested in a more surface type of visit—look at some farmhouses, eat a number of Amish meals, buy souvenirs. It was as though they had a set of expectations, a list of what to see in a limited time.
Others came to see how Plain people lived a simpler life, one less materialistic that they envied or emulated in these times when people were cutting back or trying to save money.Or learn about connecting with family again, to what and who was important to them. Connecting to God, to spirituality too.
The latter didn't seem like Chris's purpose. Connecting to God that is. Just in the brief time she'd been around him, she could sense some tension … he seemed troubled. He'd looked disappointed when Jenny had said she couldn't guide him around the area and started to say something, then stopped.When someone wanted to visit, to spend time with a person, wouldn't you think they'd send word ahead?
What, she wondered, was his real purpose? Jenny was an attractive woman, a friendly one. Had he come because he'd been interested in her and didn't know she was married now and shared a family with Matthew? She'd seen his curious glance at her left hand, then Matthew's.
Hannah glanced at Matthew. He'd welcomed Chris into his home and invited him to eat at his table, yet she hadn't seen her brother fully relax as he normally did at the end of the day.It might not be obvious to someone else, someone who didn't know him, but Matthew still regarded this other man with some caution.
Jenny sensed it. Hannah could tell because she saw Jenny glance at her husband and pat his hand resting on top of the table more than once. It didn't seem like her touch was affectionate so much as reassuring.
Now that he'd finished eating, Joshua turned on the bench and regarded Chris. “What country were you in?”
Jenny nodded when Chris glanced her way. “Afghanistan.”
“He was there as a soldier, Joshua, not as a journalist,” Jenny told him quietly.
“You got hurt. That's why you were in the hospital where Jenny went,
ya?”
Mary asked him.
“I was at a different hospital, but she came to it once for tests, and I met her there.”
Annie, always the sensitive
kind,
patted Chris's hand. “Are you better now?”
Chris nodded. “Yes, thank you.”
“Did you kill anyone?” Joshua asked, studying him with an intensity that Chris found a little unnerving.
C
hris felt the eyes of everyone sitting at the table bore into him.
He waited, searching for the right words, desperately hoping one of the parents would step in to say that children— especially such innocent, protected children—shouldn't hear the truth.
Back when he'd made the decision to follow his father and his grandfather before him into the military, he'd been so convinced that what he was doing was the right thing for him— that he was doing it for all the right reasons. Now he wasn't so sure.
He glanced at Jenny and saw that she stared at him but gave no indication of what answer she felt he should give her son. Neither did Hannah. But Matthew … Chris saw that his host wore a troubled expression. Maybe after the man had distrusted him so much earlier, out in the barn, he wanted Chris to look bad because he'd been a soldier and that was against the beliefs of the Plain people.
No, he told himself just as quickly. He didn't know Matthew, so it wasn't fair to believe that the man judged him.
Matthew gave Chris a slight nod, then turned to Joshua.“That's enough,
sohn.
It's not polite to ask guests a lot of personal questions.”
Joshua hung his head. “I'm sorry.”
“It's okay. Kids are curious. I was always like that as a kid.”
Jenny smiled at Chris.
“
Mamm?
May I clear the table?”
When Jenny nodded, Mary began picking up plates and flatware and stacking them in the big farmhouse sink.
Later, Chris would wonder why he happened to be looking at Mary just as she walked too close to the stove with the plates. Her elbow hit the handle of the percolator, knocking it off the stove top and sending the hot pot flying toward her.
Jumping to his feet, Chris pushed Mary aside and took the brunt of the pot slamming into him, splashing his chest with scalding hot coffee. His breath whooshed out of him as the searing liquid soaked his shirt. A curse leaped to his lips as the pain blistered his hands and his chest, but he bit it back, not wanting the children to hear.
Matthew jumped up. “Are you hurt?”
Chris pulled his shirt from his skin. He would never have believed coffee could be so unbelievably hot.
“Oh my,” Phoebe cried. “I thought I pushed that back far enough on the stove.”
“Here, get your shirt off,” Hannah said urgently.
She tugged it away from his skin and over his head before Chris could object. Then she grasped his hand and pulled him to the sink, turned on the cold water, and splashed handful after handful on his bare chest.
“Ice,” Phoebe said as she looked over his reddened skin.“We'll get some ice. Mary, grab a clean kitchen towel there, put some ice in it.”
When Mary continued to just stand there, tears welling up and splashing down her cheeks, Phoebe turned to Joshua. “Get the ice, go, quick!”
“I'll do that,” Jenny said. “Matthew, get the first-aid kit.Annie, you go on upstairs and brush your teeth and get ready for bed.”
“But I want to help,” Annie protested.
“Annie, listen to your
mamm,”
Matthew told her.
He retrieved the kit from a cabinet near the stove and then moved to the side of the sink.
“That looks really bad,” Matthew said, studying the skin that had already bubbled up and blistered.
He turned to Jenny. “Do you think I should call a driver to take him to the emergency room?”
“No need to fuss. It's just coffee,” Chris insisted, embarrassed by the attention but in a lot of pain. It hurt like someone had just pulled the skin off him, but compared to what he'd been through when he'd been injured overseas, it should feel like a cakewalk.
“Jacob Yoder got a third-degree burn last year when he knocked a coffeepot over and the hot coffee spilled all over his hand,” Hannah told Chris. “You don't have to pretend it doesn't hurt because you're a man.”
He raised his brows in surprise. As he'd noticed earlier, this was no shy, docile, Amish miss.
“I'm not pretending,” he said, staring at her directly. “I'll be fine.”
She kept splashing his skin with cold water, and once, when her fingers accidentally brushed his skin, she pulled them back as if she'd been burned and looked away.
Chris clutched the edge of the sink as Hannah continued to splash water on his blistered skin. He willed himself not to curse in front of the kids.
Then, in the midst of all the pain, he felt a small hand pick up one of his. When he glanced down, he saw that Annie pressed it to her lips.
“I kiss it make it
besser,”
she said and grinned, showing a gap in her two front teeth.
He looked at Hannah and she nodded and smiled slightly.“She's a sweet child.”
“Here, try this,” Phoebe said, dampening the towel with ice in it and handing it to him.
Chris sat down at the table and held the icy compress to his chest. He felt a little uncomfortable sitting in the kitchen with his shirt off. He heard a gasp and looked over his shoulder.Hannah stared at his back, her eyes wide. When her glance flew to his, he saw the shock in them.
“What—” she began, then she shook her head. “How did you—” She stopped but he saw the curiosity in her eyes.
“Like I said, the coffee's nothing,” Chris said. “Really, there's no need to fuss.”
His words came out more harshly than he intended, and he watched her flinch and turn away. He started to apologize and then he heard a sniffle and saw that Mary stood by the door, her cheeks wet with tears.
“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” she whispered.
“It was an accident,” Chris said. “Just an accident. And I'm fine.”
But she'd already spun on her heel, and then he heard her running up the stairs.
“I'll talk to her,” Jenny said. She hurried after Mary.
“I'm sorry that I've gotten everyone upset.” Chris started to his feet, but Matthew's hand descended on his shoulder, staying him.
“Sit. You saved my daughter from a really nasty burn,” Matthew said. “Let's make sure you won't suffer the effects from it too much yourself.”
Chris glanced down and lifted the ice away from his chest.The skin had reddened where the coffee had spilled on him and a few blisters had formed, but it didn't look as bad as he expected. The cold water Hannah had splashed on the burn had helped even if the pain still took his breath away. But no one needed to know that.
He looked around. “What happened to my shirt?”
Hannah lifted the wet lump that was his T-shirt from the sink and squeezed the water from it. “I'll wash it and hang it on the line to dry. Do you have another with you?”
“Yeah, in my backpack.” He pushed it out from under the table with his foot and started to reach for it.
“I'll get it out for you,” she said as she bent down.
“No! I can manage.”
Hannah blinked at his brusque tone and slowly straightened.“I'm sorry. I just meant to help.”
She chided herself for her impulsiveness. Why hadn't she thought he might not like her rooting around in his backpack? But as she watched him unzip it and pull out a shirt, she thought he'd overreacted.
Then again, she didn't know any
Englisch
men. Maybe they were different from the men in her community.
“So what do you think, Phoebe? Should I take Chris to the emergency room?” Matthew asked.
Phoebe studied him. Her eyes were kind but shrewd. “We should let him decide that. What do you think, Chris?”
“I'm fine. It feels much better now.”
“Well, I think you might be exaggerating there but we'll abide by your decision,” Phoebe said, and she looked at Matthew for confirmation.
He sighed. “Okay.”
“Of course, if you feel worse at any time, no matter how late it is, you need to tell us so we can get you some relief,” Phoebe said.
“Yes, ma'am.”
“Joshua, could you go get a tube of burn ointment in my medicine cabinet?”
“
Schur,”
he said. “Be right back.
He started to tell her they didn't need to go to any trouble but stopped when she looked at him. “Thank you.” Nodding, she picked up the percolator and went to the sink to pour out the small amount of liquid inside. Then she set about making fresh coffee, making sure the pot sat on the back burner so no one could accidentally knock it off the stove.
Hannah pulled out several plastic storage bowls and filled them with the leftovers from dinner, trying not to watch how Chris's chest and shoulders rippled as he pulled on a buttonfront shirt and let it hang open while he returned the ice pack to his chest.
Jenny re-entered the room and sat down at the table.
“Is Mary okay?” Phoebe asked.
“Yes. I told her it was an accident and that no one blamed her for it. She'll be down in a minute to do the dishes.”
“Let me do them,” Chris said.
“No, you're a guest in our home,” Matthew told him. “
Ach,
there you are, Mary.”
Hannah watched her niece walk into the room and give Chris a shy smile. “Thank you for keeping me from getting hurt,” she told Chris.
“You're welcome.”
Mary glanced at her, seeking approval, and Hannah smiled.She loved being invited over for supper here. She missed living here and taking care of her nieces and nephew since Matthew had remarried. Once a week, she and Phoebe walked over from the house they shared next door and visited for supper.Hannah loved those evenings.
“Chris, where are you staying?” Jenny asked.
He shrugged. “I don't know. When I started here, I thought I'd play it by ear, look for a place after I stopped here to visit with you. I didn't count on falling asleep in the hayloft, or taking up so much of your time at supper.”
“Don't say that. We loved having you,” Jenny told him.
Hannah glanced at the kitchen window. It had grown dark outside while they lingered over supper.
“He can stay in the
dawdi haus
tonight.”
Everyone looked at Matthew.
Hannah stared at her brother, not believing her ears. What a turnaround he'd made after his earlier suspicion of Chris.When he glanced over and saw her expression, Matthew shrugged, tilting the cup in his hand and silently sending her a message. He was obviously grateful that Chris had saved Mary from a bad burn.
She looked at Chris and her cheeks reddened when she realized he watched her.
“
Dawdi haus?”
“It's an addition to the house that grandparents use when they've sold the farm to a son.”
“That's very generous of you, but I wouldn't want to put you out,” Chris spoke up.
“You're not putting us out,” Jenny said, sending her husband a smile. “And besides, you might not thank us after you see it. Matthew hasn't finished his renovations yet.”
Joshua returned with the burn ointment and then dashed up the stairs when Jenny reminded him of bedtime.
The floor thumped above their heads. Jenny and Matthew glanced upward, then at each other.
“Your turn,” she murmured. Her husband headed upstairs.
She turned to Chris. “C'mon, I'll show you where you can stay tonight.”
But before they could leave, Matthew called down the stairs for her.
“I'm coming!” she called.
She turned to Hannah. “Would you mind showing Chris the
dawdi haus?”
“
Schur.”
She stood and watched Chris lift his backpack. As he did, he couldn't hide the wince of pain that crossed his face.
“You'll need bedding,” Phoebe said. “I'll get some.” She went into another room and returned with an armful of folded sheets.
Taking the bundle from her, Hannah turned to Chris.“Ready?”
“Got your back.”
“What?”
He smiled slightly. “Sorry, it's just an expression from my Army days.”
“Oh.”
As Hannah opened the connecting door to the
dawdi haus,
she said, “No one's used it in a long time.”
They stepped inside.
“Matthew's done some work in the kitchen but he doesn't have much time until the winter when he isn't working in the fields. It's kind of small—just a living room, the kitchen, a bathroom, and this is the bedroom.”
She walked into it and placed the bedding on the dresser, pleased that the place didn't smell musty from being shut up.
Chris looked around and nodded. “This is like what we call a mother-in-law apartment.”
“When the son takes over the farm and moves into the farmhouse, his parents move here so they're close if they need any caring for. We won't be needing it for that. My parents are dead.”
“I'm sorry. It's tough to lose family.” He thought of his grandmother.
“
Danki.
But they've been gone for almost seven years now.”
Going to the closet, she pulled out a quilt and placed it on top of the bedding on the dresser. “You might need this.Sometimes the nights get cool.”
Chris threw his backpack on the floor near the bed and walked over to the dresser. He stroked the patches on the quilt.
“This reminds me of my grandmother.”
“She quilted?”
“Yeah. Don't know where she found the time. She helped my grandfather with the farm and had six kids.”
Hannah studied the way his big hand stroked the patches on the quilt. “It's something many of us enjoy doing—in my world and yours. And it's not just about making something warm for our families. It's a way to bring beauty into our everyday lives, to have something of our own, something creative.”