A Time To Heal (7 page)

Footsteps were heard overhead.

“I'll go call the
kinner,”
Matthew said.

“
Danki,”
she said with a smile.

He left the room and she heard him walk to the stairs and bellow up, “Supper's ready!”

Thoughtful, Hannah forked the pork chops onto a serving platter and poured warmed applesauce over them. She placed the platter in the center of the table, scooped green beans into a dish, and then pulled a pan of scalloped potatoes from the oven.

The table had been set by Mary, the water poured by Annie.Joshua had helped by doing chores in the barn with Matthew.

There, she thought. Everything is ready.

She heard a knock on the front door and when she went to answer it, found Chris on the doorstep. “You're right on time.”

“I'm always on time for work. And for a meal.”

“Then you'll get along well with Matthew.”

“So he told you.”

She closed the door and turned to face him. “
Ya,
he told me.”

I
f the morning hadn't been so quiet and if she hadn't been in the kitchen sipping her first cup of coffee, Hannah might not have heard it.

It began as a low moaning sound that had her wondering if she heard right, then it became a muffled hoarse scream.

At first, she thought one of the
kinner
was having a nightmare, but then she realized that the noise came from the door off the kitchen that led to the
dawdi haus.

She walked over and pressed her ear to the door. Could Chris be in pain? What should she do?

She knocked at the door. “Chris?” When he didn't answer, she knocked again, louder this time, and got the same lack of response. She banged on it this time, hoping she'd get him to answer so that she didn't have to go wake up Matthew.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and called his name.

“I'm here,” he said, appearing before her.

She turned just in case he wore pajamas … or less.

“It's okay. I'm dressed.”

She turned back and saw that he looked rumpled and bleary-eyed.

“Yeah? What is it? Did I oversleep?”

“Are you all right? It sounded like you were in pain.”

“I'm fine.”

“It's early. Matthew won't expect you for another hour.”

He nodded and shut the door.

“Well, and
guder mariye
to you too,” she muttered and went back to her coffee. It had cooled a little so she topped it off with more and sat down again.

She'd heard the
Englisch
refer to themselves as “early birds” or “night owls.” Only one type of bird lived in the Plain community: early. The day began before the sun came up.

This was Hannah's favorite time of the day, when she had some quiet time to pray and enjoy the dawn of another day He'd given her. Quiet time alone with her thoughts had been precious when she took care of her brother's
kinner
and his home.

Each morning she lived here, she saw Joshua, Mary, and Annie come downstairs in varying stages of wakefulness and readiness to start the day. She packed lunches while the
kinner
ate breakfast; and she watched the clock to make sure she shooed them out the door in time for
schul.

Mornings were always quiet at Phoebe's. The two women moved about the kitchen quietly, talked without interruption of young voices, and ate their meal in peace.

Oh, how she missed the slightly chaotic mornings of this house, she thought, smiling. When Jenny had come here as Matthew's wife, Hannah had felt a moment's envy and sadness that her time as a temporary
mamm
ended. Phoebe had been so wonderful to ask her to live with her in the house next door.She seemed to understand the loss Hannah felt. She made her feel welcome and kept her busy getting settled.

Hannah knew she could go next door at any time to see her nieces and nephew, and they came over often to see her. But she'd missed being needed to help with an occasional homework assignment—not that many were assigned since Plain
kinner
had chores once they came home.

And while Joshua, Mary, and Annie were usually wellbehaved, she still occasionally needed to referee a mild disagreement or redistribute chores. Her favorite time with them came when she prepared their evening meals, and afterward, read them stories.

She'd had a borrowed family who had given her someone— four someones—to love. However, it made her realize how much she wanted a family—a family of her own, not just a borrowed one.

And now that she no longer had them to focus on, she found it even harder not to yearn for her own family.

With a sigh, she got up and turned the gas oven on to preheat.She'd make something special, maybe her breakfast casserole, to send everyone off to
schul
and to work. She reached for the pan she used, then hesitated and glanced at the door to the
dawdi haus.
The pan she held in her hand wouldn't be large enough to hold a casserole for another man-sized appetite in the house. Best to use two smaller pans so they wouldn't be too heavy to lift or take too long to bake. The men who were helping Matthew with the harvest would be here soon.

She'd thought Chris would be gone by now and wondered what it would be like to have him here. He was a type of man she'd never known, one who drew her to want to understand him and yet one she knew she should hold at arm's length because he never could be part of her world.

Chris shot straight up in bed, covered in a cold sweat, panting as if he'd run a race. Groggy because he felt ripped from a deep, unsatisfying sleep.

Someone knocked on the door that separated the
dawdi haus
from the main one. He pulled on his jeans and dragged a t-shirt over his head as he padded barefoot to the door. Had he overslept on the first morning he'd said he'd work for Matthew?

When he opened the door, he stared into Hannah's concerned face. “Yeah?”

“Are you all right?” His heart sank. She'd obviously heard him having the nightmare. Feeling embarrassed, he frowned, assured her he felt fine, and shut the door as quickly as possible.

He walked back to the bed and threw himself down on it.After a while, he turned over. His glance went to his backpack and the gifts he'd bought yesterday that were piled on the wooden dresser. He looked at the doll's blank face and remembered another childish image.

The memory of a child's wide, tear-filled eyes flashed into his mind, painfully reminding him that he'd condemned the boy's father to be shut behind gray prison walls for years. He could still hear the child crying, hear the voice of the boy's mother accusing him of betrayal, cursing him for what he'd done.

It was no less than he'd done to himself then, and since.

Rising, he went to shower and dress for the day. One foot in front of the other, he told himself. That's how he got through most days. He'd come here just wanting to talk to Jenny about how she coped with what she'd gone through, and he hadn't been able to do so yet. That's what he got for coming without letting her know first. But he'd felt so compelled to come here, he wondered if there was some bigger reason for him to be here. He'd just been here for two days but it felt right somehow to be here. It didn't make sense but even logical types like his military instructors had told the soldiers to trust their instincts, to listen to their intuition. So he'd stay for a while longer, until he could talk to Jenny. Until he could figure things out.

He'd always enjoyed working on the farm. He found the sheer physical labor, the ability to work outdoors and think— really think—without the constant interruption of others, satisfied him. He'd found peace working the land. Here, harvesting what Matthew had planted and nurtured, he hoped to find peace again. Maybe he'd even find a way to forgive himself here among people who were known to demonstrate it so readily toward others.

He showered, shaved, got dressed, and then started for the back door. He hesitated, but then went out and closed it behind him. Perhaps he could have used the other entrance, the one that led directly into the kitchen. After all, Hannah had knocked at the door so that sort of implied he could use it.

But then he told himself that he wasn't related to the family and it seemed like an invasion of privacy. He didn't want to do anything to upset Matthew now that he seemed to be trusting him more.

So he walked around the home and knocked at the front door like a guest—well, actually, now he was an employee. But still, he wasn't part of the family.

He winced as he thought about his interaction with Hannah a little while ago. What man likes to have a woman know he isn't strong? He should be able to control how he sleeps—he shouldn't have nightmares.

Everything had been out of his control for too long.

When Chris walked into the kitchen, accompanied by Annie who chattered a mile a minute, Hannah handed him a mug of coffee before turning back to the stove.

“Annie, tell Joshua and Mary breakfast is ready.”

She scampered up the stairs.

“Good morning,” he said.

Surprised, Hannah turned. “Good morning. I didn't think you wanted to talk after the way you were earlier.”

He took a seat at the table and stared into his coffee.“Sorry.”

Resting her hand on her hip, she regarded him. “I figured you're not an early bird.”

“You don't get a choice about what kind of bird you are in the military,” he told her. He stirred sugar into his coffee.

He didn't meet her eyes. He hadn't been that way yesterday.Frowning, she went to the refrigerator for milk for the
kinner
and set it on the table. Then understanding dawned.

“You're embarrassed,” she said with surprise.

He looked up briefly, then away.

“I used to have nightmares,” Joshua said as he came into the room.

She watched Chris turn toward him.

“Yeah?”

Joshua nodded. “After my
mamm
died.”

“You never told me,” Hannah said.

Shrugging, Joshua avoided her eyes much as Chris had done. “Abe called me a sissy when he found out.”

“Oh,
liebschen,
that's not so.” Hannah wrapped her arms around Joshua and her eyes met Chris's over his blond head.“It's not sissy to have nightmares.”

Joshua fidgeted in her arms and she bit back a smile as she realized that he probably felt too old for her to be hugging him.He'd been doing that lately. Like people said,
kinner
grew up too quickly.

“No, Joshua,” Chris said in a low voice. “It's not sissy.” He looked at Hannah. “I'm not embarrassed. I just don't like to talk about personal stuff.”

“Then you shouldn't,” Hannah said slowly. She could tell by the way Chris's eyes widened that he was surprised by her words.

Footsteps pounded down the stairs and the girls came into the room. Matthew walked in just then too.

“Perfect timing,” Hannah said, walking to open the oven. “I think the breakfast casserole is ready.”

“Ready to start work?” Matthew asked him.

Chris got up but Matthew waved a hand at him and laughed.“I didn't mean this minute. Breakfast first.”

He washed his hands at the sink, wiped them on a towel, and sat down. “Mmm, smells good.”

“Food,” Hannah said, setting the casserole down in the center of the table and turning to smile at Chris. “It's Matthew's favorite.”

Chris grinned. “That's what my mother always said about me.” He glanced at Joshua. “I know I ate a lot, but I was a growing boy.”

“I grew two inches this year,” Joshua told him.

Hannah served the casseroles of bacon, eggs, cheese, and potatoes, and after grace, everyone dug in. It was good, solid food on a cool autumn morning, one that would fuel the men for chores and the scholars for their studies. She ate a good portion, too, for the housework she'd be doing. There were always housekeeping chores in a home, and it did a body good to have work to keep hands busy.

After chores and dinner, she'd be teaching a quilting class, something she loved and did occasionally when they needed her at Stitches in Time, a shop run by a friend of hers in town. They sold the quilts she made and offered courses to locals and tourists who wanted to learn the craft.

The day would be busy and long, but she liked days like that the best, especially lately. She'd have less time to think the way she had this past month. Good. She didn't like the way she had been thinking. When, and if, God wanted her to have a
mann
of her own, a family of her own, He'd make it happen.God's will, in God's time.

Not Hannah's, she reminded herself sternly.