Did she want to admit that to her husband, a good man of steadfast principles? She'd never done something like this before.
She'd have to tell him.
So she leaned back against the seat and watched the passing scenery. It was nearly the season she'd returned to this community after she'd been injured. The stark, leafless trees had stood out against the blinding white, snow-covered fields, a barren landscape that reflected the way she felt. She'd been a broken shell of a woman, scarred and limping from injuries caused by a car bomber determined to silence her televised reports from a war zone.
Here, she'd healed. Here, she'd found that the feelings she'd experienced as a teenager had come rushing back, matured, and the boy next door had become her husband. They'd gotten a second chance.
He couldn't know. He couldn't. If he did, that would mean that he had stepped back from what he said he felt for her.He'd let her go and she'd been miserable for nearly a year at college.
And not long after, he'd married his first wife and had a family with her.
"Phoebe! It's so
gut
to see you out!" Mary Elizabeth called out as she slowed her buggy coming from the opposite direction.
Matthew brought the buggy to a stop.
"Went to the doctor," Phoebe told her. "Still—sick."
The effort of talking sent her into a paroxysm of coughing.
Mary Elizabeth pressed her fingers to her mouth and shook her head. "Oh, I'm so sorry. You get home and get back in bed. I'll stop by tomorrow with some soup for Jenny to give to you."
She looked at Jenny. "You take care of her and let me know how I can help,
allrecht?"
"I will. Thank you, Mary Elizabeth," Jenny said.
Matthew called to Daisy and the buggy began rolling down the road again.
"You're awfully quiet," he stated a few minutes later.
"Is that a complaint?" She tried to make her tone light but she saw him studying her intently.
He started to say something but from the way his body straightened and his head turned she saw something had captured his attention. She looked in the direction he did and saw that a car was parked in the driveway of Phoebe's house. Chris stood beside it, gesturing as he talked to the driver.
"Looks like they have company," Matthew said.
"Chris doesn't seem happy," Jenny observed. "Who is it? Someone we know?"
Matthew shook his head. "Out-of-state plates."
As they drove past, Chris looked up and waved for them to stop.
Matthew pulled into the driveway. Chris strode over, frowning, his jaw clenched. His face cleared when he spotted Phoebe.
"Are you feeling any better?" he asked her, stroking her arm as he gazed at her in concern. "Hannah and I so want you well and back here again."
Phoebe smiled. "
Danki.
I hope it won't be much longer."
"Stop trying to steal my grandmother back," Jenny told him.
When a car door opened behind him, Chris's frown and jaw clenching returned. "Well, you won't believe who just drove up, out of the blue," he muttered.
A man who appeared in his sixties approached. There was something familiar to him but Jenny didn't think she'd ever met him. He had thinning sandy hair, what some might call a beer belly, and reminded her a little of a pug with his squared body and face.
A plump woman the same age got out of the car. "Now, William, don't start a fuss. We just got here," she said, following him.
"I drive all this way and you turn your back on me for your friends?" he griped.
With a sigh, Chris turned. "One of them has been very sick. I just wanted to make sure she's okay."
He turned back to them. "Matthew, Jenny, Phoebe, meet my father, William, and my mother, Fern."
"How nice Chris's parents came to visit," Phoebe said as she slid between the sheets of her bed.
Jenny helped her settle against extra pillows. "Does this help at all?"
"I think it does. I'll be practically sitting up but I'll try anything."
"Chris didn't act very happy about seeing them. I think he's been estranged from them for a while." Jenny took a seat in the rocking chair. It felt so good to get off her feet after a busy day.
"Estranged," mused Phoebe. "Big word for not sitting down and talking things out with each other. Not that I'm saying all families get along here. We know otherwise. But from things Chris has said I know family's very important to him."
"It's hard for some soldiers to get used to civilian life when they come back home. Especially if they've been wounded."
"You'd know."
Jenny nodded. "That's why Chris and I bonded when I met him at the veteran's hospital after my surgery."
Phoebe yawned. "The cough syrup the doctor gave me is making me sleepy. Maybe I won't hack all night."
"I hope not. I know you'll feel better if you don't."
"I hope you can get more sleep, too."
Jenny stood and leaned down to kiss her grandmother's cheek. "I'm going to go see if everyone's settled down and then I'll be back. No," she said quickly, holding up her hand. "Save your breath. I'm coming back."
Matthew was coming down the stairs when she walked into the kitchen. "Phoebe settled down?"
"Yes. Thank you for helping me take her to the doctor. The cough syrup's already making her drowsy. I think she'll sleep tonight."
"Maybe you can, too?"
Fighting a yawn, she nodded. "I'm looking forward to my bed one of these nights. Maybe I'll get rid of this crick in my neck."
He drew over a chair, sat, and pulled her down to sit on his lap. His hands began to massage the tension at the back of her neck and then moved to her shoulders. "How does that feel?"
"Like heaven," she said, trying not to moan.Sitting there in the kitchen, warm and comforted by the feel of his hands trying to work out the stress built up in her upper body, she felt loved and cared for. She'd missed sleeping in their bed, arms wrapped around each other.
Then the events of the morning came roaring into her memory and she straightened. She remembered the ride to the doctor's and how she'd wondered if Matthew knew that Phoebe had contacted her father.
Matthew's lips caressed the nape of her neck, reassuring her that he'd missed her, too. She turned around and stared at him, pulling back when he leaned forward to kiss her.
She shook her head. It wasn't the time or place to ask him.
He looked confused. "Something's wrong."
"I'm tired," she said. "And you must be, too."
His eyes were dark with desire as he stroked the back of his hand against her cheek. "I love you."
She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and forced herself to step away. "I love you, too." She busied herself at the sink."Why don't you go on up to bed? It can't be doing you any good to sleep on the sofa after the way you work so hard. I don't think I'll be needing you tonight."
He frowned, obviously trying to judge her mood. "I'm going to let you twist my arm."
He touched her arm but she continued to wash the dishes and finally he let his hand fall.
"If you change your mind about coming up to bed . . ." He let his words trail off.
"Don't tempt me," she told him lightly. But she knew he couldn't tempt her until she found out what had happened and if he knew what Phoebe had done.
"
Gut nacht, lieb."
"Matthew?"
He turned. "
Ya?"
She wanted to ask him if he knew what Phoebe had done but something stopped her. What if he said yes? How would she feel? Her world had been rocked that day and her feelings were so tender. She cautioned herself to not do anything hasty.After all, it had happened so many years ago. She had Matthew and the children now. Should it matter?
"Jenny?"
She shook her head. "Nothing."
He walked back and hugged her. "Phoebe's going to be fine," he reassured her.
She told herself this was the Matthew she knew, not one who would hide something. He wasn't capable of keeping a secret.
She hugged him back and nodded.
But then, as he walked away, she thought about how she'd never have thought that Phoebe was capable of it either.
He climbed the stairs again and she listened to his steps overhead as he walked into their bedroom.
She fixed herself a cup of tea and sat at the kitchen table for a quiet moment alone. The old farmhouse creaked a little and the night was so still she could hear the ticking of the clock.She sent up a silent prayer of thanks for her family tucked up safe and warm when the weather was getting colder.
But while everything around her was serene and quiet, her mind continued to whirl with questions. She took deep breaths, willing it to stop, practicing a technique she'd learned in the hospital to alleviate anxiety. Gradually, the hamster wheel in her head slowed, then stopped.
Taking a last calming breath, she sipped her cooling tea and felt the tension that had built up again in her body ease. As it did, it was replaced by an awareness of just how tired she was.She felt her head nodding. It wouldn't hurt to put her head down for a moment, she told herself. Just for a moment. She wanted to go stay with her grandmother for another night just to be sure she wasn't needed.
A baby was crying.
She climbed out of bed and padded on bare feet down the hallway to see what was wrong. But when she walked into the nursery there was no baby, no crib. Alarmed, she rushed from the room and went into Joshua's room. It was empty. She ran down the hall and looked into Mary's room, then Annie's but there was no one there.
Sobbing, tears running down her cheeks, she ran back to the room she shared with Matthew but it was empty, too.What was happening? She was in a nightmare but she couldn't seem to wake up. Then she remembered that Phoebe was in the
dawdi haus.
She flew down the stairs, tore open the connecting door, and ran into her grandmother's bedroom. But it, too, was empty.
Jenny woke, crying out, and found herself sitting at the kitchen table. She sat there for a moment, blinking. There were footsteps on the stairs and Matthew hurried into the room.
"Matthew!" She jumped up and rushed at him, throwing herself into his arms.
He grasped her by the arms and held her back. "I heard you calling out. Is something wrong with Phoebe?"
Shaking her head, she wiped at the tears on her cheeks. "I fell asleep at the table and had such a bad dream." She took a shaky breath. "I need to go check on the kids."
"They're fine."
"I need to see them." She ran up the stairs and went from room to room, making certain for herself that they were safe in their beds. That they were
there.
When she returned to the kitchen, Matthew was waiting for her, looking sleepy and rumpled and concerned. "You haven't had a nightmare in months. What brought it on?"
She shrugged. "Who knows? There's not always a trigger. "Picking up her mug, she put it into the sink.
"But there usually is," he reminded her, coming to stand behind her and rubbing her back. "Do you need to talk about it?"
"No, go back to bed," she told him. "I'm fine. I'm going to sit up with Phoebe for a little while and who knows, I might get to go to bed later."
He grinned and leaned down to give her a lingering kiss. "I won't kick you out if you do."
They separated, Matthew returning to bed and Jenny going to see to Phoebe. She found her grandmother sleeping peacefully. When she put the back of her hand to the older woman's forehead it was cool. No fever and no coughing. It was a very good night, she thought.
So she tiptoed out of the room and, after a glance at the stairs that led to their room, she lay down on the living room sofa. She'd told Matthew that she might go to bed but she wasn't ready for that yet and not just because she wanted to make sure Phoebe was okay.
She just wasn't sure she could pretend that everything was okay to him until she sorted out what happened today when she read that letter.
J
enny walked into the barn and stood, arms folded across her chest.
Not for the first time she thought if only life were easier. If only she could just push a key in an ignition and back a car out of the barn and be on her way. She didn't want to be away from Phoebe for too long even though Matthew had said he'd check on her while Jenny went into town.
Pilot snorted at her and tossed his head. Honestly, who knew that horses could express derision? she asked herself.
When she first met Pilot, Matthew had warned her that he was headstrong and that he'd tried to intimidate Hannah, too. Hannah had let Pilot know right away he wasn't going to get away with it, Matthew had told Jenny.
But Jenny wasn't Hannah who'd grown up around horses the way Jenny had cars. She'd had experience with children, too, and simply dealt with Pilot the same loving but firm way.
And horses served here—they weren't for an occasional pleasure ride. They worked in some manner here as did everyone and nearly every animal in the Amish community.
"I have to go into town and get a prescription for Phoebe," she announced as she opened the gate on the stall. Then she laughed and shook her head. Why was she explaining to a horse?
Pilot shook his great head and backed up.
"I don't have time for this," she told him. "If you give me too much trouble I'll just go get Daisy. Sweet-natured, cooperative Daisy."
He pawed the ground and shook his head again as if to tell her what he thought of that. So she gathered up her courage and walked into the stall and slipped the bridle over his head and fastened it. Don't show him you're afraid, Matthew had said. Then you'll lose control forever.
Well, there was still a cold grip of fear around her heart when she did this but Pilot hadn't ever shown any sign that he'd hurt her. If there had ever been even an inkling that could happen, Matthew wouldn't have the horse on the farm. But she couldn't help feeling a little wary as he walked outside with her and let her hitch him up to the buggy.
"Might be my lunch," she said as he began sniffing at her shoulder purse as she hitched him to the buggy. "Might be something for you."
When he nuzzled her cheek she laughed and relaxed. "You are such a handsome guy. And charming. Have I mentioned charming?"
She finished and stood back to admire her handiwork. Pilot nodded and nudged her with his nose. "Okay, okay, I'll see if I can find an apple for you for being good."
Before she could do what she said, he nosed at her purse and she laughed again.
"I swear, you can sniff out an apple like Annie can sniff out a cookie."
She pulled out the apple and handed it to him. "This is our secret, you hear? If Matthew found out I was spoiling you this way I'd never hear the end of it."
She climbed into the buggy and Pilot tossed his head and began leading them down the drive. Jenny sighed and smiled to herself. Success. She hadn't had to call Matthew as she'd had to do a few times in the beginning. He didn't mind— ever—and even showed up sometimes to hitch up Pilot when he knew she needed to go to town.
But even children knew how to do such a task here and she was determined not to be intimidated by this four-legged beast. An Amish
fraa
did such things herself and she was determined to be a good Amish
fraa.
Driving a buggy was second nature to her now. The first few times she'd driven one after she had an accident had been hard. But like the old saying, you had to get back on the horse—or behind it!—and just do it again. Or walk. And you couldn't walk everywhere you needed to anyway.
But the accident had taught her to be more careful, to look both ways, and then get quickly onto the road. She'd hesitated when she'd approached the road that time, not given firm enough directions to Daisy. And the driver of the car had been going too fast, like so many did, heedless of the danger to buggies.
So as she approached the road, she was firm with Pilot. And former racehorse that he was, he knew not to hesitate and got them onto the road quickly.
Jenny pulled into the drive next door to see if Hannah needed anything from town. To her surprise, Hannah came hurrying out of the house before she could alight from the buggy.
"Rescue me!" she hissed. "I don't care where you're going or how long you're going to be gone. Just let me ride along."
"Do you promise to behave?" Jenny asked, tongue in cheek.
"You do
not
know what I've gone through for the last few days," Hannah told her. "Let me go get my purse and I'll tell you all about it on the way into town."
Jenny had never seen Hannah quite so rattled. She was the closest thing to a drama queen Jenny had been around since— well, she couldn't remember.
"Thank goodness you came over," Hannah said with a big sigh after Jenny helped her heave herself into the buggy.
"The visit isn't going well?"
Hannah rolled her eyes. "Everything's so tense between Chris and his father. I keep telling Chris that he needs to remember his father loves him or he wouldn't have come to visit.
"Fern says William doesn't understand why Chris came here. Or why he stayed. And Chris doesn't think he should have to explain himself."
She lifted her chin. "And he shouldn't. Chris went through a very difficult time and his father didn't seem to understand."
"It's not easy for others to understand," Jenny said quietly. "War isn't war. I mean, what Chris experienced—what I saw— overseas isn't like what William went through when he served. And the military wasn't the male bonding experience Chris expected, what he'd heard about from his dad growing up. His buddies turned on him when he refused to look the other way about what Malcolm did. And when Chris was injured just before coming back, well—"
"He felt God turned His back on him, too."
"Exactly."
"You understood that," Hannah told her. "Chris told me that. He said you showed up at the same hospital he was at for tests and the two of you started talking and he started getting some of the answers he'd been looking for."
"Well, I don't think I had any answers—"
"He thought so," Hannah interrupted her. "I'm glad he thought so. He came here to Paradise to talk to you some more. Just think about it. If he hadn't, he and I wouldn't have met and gotten married."
Taking a deep breath, Hannah leaned back against the seat. "William and Fern weren't expecting this." She held her hands protectively over her abdomen.
"He didn't let them know?"
Hannah shook her head. "He said they didn't come to the wedding so why bother?"
"I imagine it was quite a shock for them to have him embrace the religion and the way of life here."
"Try telling Chris that. He says his father's always been stubborn and unwilling to listen to him. Then when Chris returned home after his military service, the distance between them grew wider."
"Are you warm enough?" Jenny asked, noticing that Hannah pulled her shawl closer around her. "There's an extra blanket on the back seat."
Hannah turned for it but movement was awkward for her. Jenny took her eyes off the road and reached for the blanket. This is something I can't do in a car, she couldn't help thinking.Pilot wouldn't veer off the road if Jenny didn't pay attention.
"You're being quiet. Either that or I'm talking too much. "Hannah thought about it for a minute. "I'm talking too much."
"You needed to vent."
"You look exhausted."
"Wow, such flattery."
"It's too much for you to be caring for Phoebe on top of your family and your home. And your book deadline."
"I'm managing. Really."
"Nothing else is wrong, is it?"
Jenny sighed inwardly. Hannah was far too observant and far too plainspoken. "What could be wrong?"
Hannah laughed. "Matthew's my brother, but he's far from perfect."
She sobered and put her hand on Jenny's arm. "You know if you need someone to talk to I won't say anything to anyone. Especially Matthew. I'd probably even take your side."
Jenny avoided her gaze. "Nothing's wrong."
She winced inwardly at the lie. But she didn't have any choice. This was something that was just too personal to share with anyone. She was still hoping that there was a good reason for what Phoebe had done.
And her biggest hope was that Matthew hadn't known about it.
Matthew couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
Jenny was a silent shadow of herself lately. At first he'd blamed her behavior on her being exhausted. He knew what it was like to be a caretaker since his first wife had been terminally ill for so long.
His friends and family had helped. They'd brought in meals, taken the
kinner
to school, helped with farming chores, sat with Amelia when Matthew needed to grab a few hours' sleep.
But no one bore the burden of care that a loving family member who was the caretaker did.
He knew that Jenny had been so worried about Phoebe since she'd gotten sick that she'd barely slept, barely ate. But something else was going on. He felt it in the mildly uneasy way a husband did when his wife became distant for no discernable reason.
His glance went to the calendar. It wasn't her time of the month. That had happened a week ago and she'd been disappointed and a little moody as she'd been since they'd been married and she hadn't conceived. And it wasn't their anniversary.He knew better than to forget that. What husband survived forgetting an anniversary?
Just a little while ago Jenny had announced she needed to run some errands. She'd rushed out, refusing his help with Pilot. That in itself had been another signal that something was wrong.
He knew how Pilot still sometimes seemed to enjoy giving Jenny a hard time when she wanted to hitch him to the buggy. Anyone who thought horses were dumb animals should watch
that
interplay.
Restless, he checked the time and headed outside. Walking in the fields always helped him think. The earth was barren of crops, the dirt carefully turned over. Soon the weather would turn colder and snow would cover it, pristine and white. He liked to think that the earth rested, absorbing the remnants of the roots of the crops he'd harvested, using the nutrients and the rain and snow and it would be richer for the seeds he'd plant in the spring.
Lost in thought, he almost missed Chris waving to him from the fields next to his. Matthew waved back and watched Chris stride over.
"Out for a walk?" Chris asked him when they were within a few feet of each other.
Matthew nodded. "It's a good place to think."
Chris glanced back at the house he shared with Hannah and he frowned. "It's a good place to get away, too."
"Visit not going well?"
"That would be an understatement."
A chill wind blew around them. When Chris shivered, Matthew jerked his head toward his house. "I just put some
kaffe
on."
"Sounds good."
They walked into the house and both men took off their jackets and hats and hung them on pegs.
"Smells good." Chris sat at the table.
"I think there are some cookies in the jar."
"Hannah's oatmeal raisin?"
"
Ya,
I think so."
"I've had enough of those, thanks. Hannah's been doing a lot of baking. I think it takes her mind off things. Wish that's all it took for me," he muttered.
"Is there any way I can help?" Matthew brought two mugs to the table and sat.
Chris looked at him, then away.
"Oh," Matthew said suddenly. "Maybe it's personal."
Coloring, Chris glanced at him. "It is."
Where was an interruption when he needed one? Matthew wondered. He cast a desperate glance at the clock. It was at least an hour before the
kinner
got home from
schul.
"If it's about . . . marital relations, perhaps the bishop could offer some advice. Or the counseling center in town."
Matthew tried to keep his eyes level with Chris so the man wouldn't feel badly. He was uncomfortable with the direction of their conversation but he didn't want Chris to feel sorry that he'd turned to him or feel ashamed. But his collar was suddenly feeling so tight he wanted to pull it away from his neck so he could breathe.
Chris waved a hand and began laughing. "Oh, sorry. It's not at all what you think."
Matthew looked at him warily. "No?"
"No." Chris sobered. "I'm going to tell you something but if you don't keep it to yourself I'll—I'll—" He stopped and shook his head. "Well, I don't know what I'll do but men should help each other in this, you know? Like—support each other."
"Chris, I don't understand what you're talking about."
"Childbirth! I'm scared to death of childbirth!"
Feeling a huge relief, Matthew grinned. "Well," he began. "The first thing to know is that
you're
not going to have to have the baby—" he broke off as Chris punched his arm. "Ow! I was just joking!"
"It's not funny," Chris muttered darkly. "It's easy for you to joke. After your wife had the first and you knew what to expect—well, it must gotten easier to go through it."