Anna's Healing (22 page)

“Where are we going?”

“It's a surprise.”

“What kind of surprise?”

“Wouldn't be much of one if I told you.”

He backed the wheelchair away from the table and started pushing her across the lawn.

“Maybe I should tell my
aenti
—”

“I already took care of that.” He slowed the chair, leaned down, and whispered, “Trust me.”

More loudly he said, “And hold on.”

He pushed the chair much faster than usual. The lawn was smooth and Anna didn't seem in danger of falling out. In fact, he was sure he heard a laugh escape her pretty lips.

By the time he reached the far side of the barn, they were both breathless.

“This is it? You wanted me to see the back of the Millers' barn?”

Jacob put two fingers to his lips and whistled. When he did, a beautiful roan mare stepped out from the barn. Directly behind her was the foal that he had spied when walking to the service. Somewhat unsure on its feet, the foal followed closely behind its mother, trying to nurse when the mare stopped next to the fence.

Jacob reached into his pocket and handed the carrots to Anna. “She looks hungry to me.”

“The foal is beautiful.” Anna held a carrot piece out to the mare,
who accepted it between her large front teeth. After crunching it, she stayed close to the fence, poking her head through the fence rail, obviously hoping for another treat. Anna leaned forward in her chair and stroked the white splash of fur between the horse's ears, feeding her all of the carrots one by one until they were gone.

“I think she likes you.”

“I think she likes carrots.”

They both laughed when the horse attempted to stick her head all the way through the fence.

“That's all I have, girl. Go on now.”

Nodding her head, the mare turned and walked away, her foal toddling behind.

“Tell me about your family,” Anna said.

“What's there to tell? Typical Amish family.”

“
Bruders
and
schweschdern
?”

“Only boys—seven of us.”

“So your
mamm
is a patient woman.”

“She is.”

Anna rolled her chair forward and back. For a moment her eyes were on the foal, who had settled in the shade on the far side of the pasture. When she turned her attention back toward him, Jacob knew that the next question was very important to her.

“Why did you leave them?”

“Some days I can't remember why.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and allowed his memory to comb back over the years. “I was a middle child, and I guess I thought no one would notice.”

“Did they?”

“Of course.
Dat
wanted me to stay. He said he needed my help, but he didn't. There were too many boys for the small amount of acreage we had.”

“There must have been plenty of other jobs.”

“Yes, but I've always enjoyed working outside. I couldn't see myself as a cabinetmaker.”

Anna nodded as if that made sense. “How long have you been away?”

“Four years now. I've been back to visit twice.”

“And you didn't want to stay?”

“Part of me did, but another part had become used to the road—as my bishop predicted.”

Anna ran the fingers of her right hand over the wheel of her chair. “I'm glad you stayed here—that you seem content here.”

“This is where I'm supposed to be, Anna. I can't imagine moving away now. I wouldn't want to.” Jacob glanced again at her as he said the last four words. The mixture of emotions on her face and the tears in her eyes caused him to squat in front of her chair, reach out, and touch her cheek.

As he did, the last of bit of reserve he'd carefully placed around his heart began to crumble.

CHAPTER 32

A
nna's emotions soared high and plummeted to the bottom of her stomach in a matter of seconds. When Jacob squatted in front of her, his kind eyes probing hers, and reached out to touch her face, she didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Instead of doing either, she decided to be honest.

“Thank you, Jacob.” Her voice was soft and sincere. “There are many things I've missed since the accident, but I suppose what I miss most is being able to enjoy the little surprises of each day.”

She ran her hand over the top of the right wheel. “Most of my days are very much the same, with little to break up the tedium.”

“Except your sewing.”

“
Ya
. The sewing has helped.”

“But you're still sad at times. I can tell, and I want… I want to help. That's why I brought you out here, hoping it might lift your spirits.”

Anna nodded, but she didn't smile. How could she when her heart was being squeezed so tightly she had trouble pulling in a full breath. “Maybe you could push me over toward that bench?”

Jacob moved behind her chair and pushed her the few feet to the bench that sat along the back wall of the barn. When he'd positioned her chair next to the end, he took a seat.

“I appreciate you're attentiveness, Jacob. I do. It means more to me than you could know.”

“I hear a
but
coming.”

“
Ya
, I suppose so. I like you Jacob, more than I want to admit, and sometimes I think you feel the same.”

Instead of answering that question, he said, “The first day I saw you, the first afternoon I arrived to work for your
onkel
, I knew you were special.”

“I'm not that person anymore. I'm… broken now.”

“You
are
the same person, Anna. How can you say that? You have the same heart, the same smile, you care about others, and I think I've loved you since that first day because—”

He'd turned toward her, and though it hurt her to do so, Anna reached out and put a finger on his lips. “Let's not speak of love.”

“Why would you say that?”

The fist around her stomach tightened, but she pushed on. “Because I would not make a good wife, and we both know that. I don't know if I could have children, and I would be very little good around the house.”

“Those things don't matter—”

“I would be a burden.” Tears slipped down her cheeks, but she didn't let them slow the words she needed to share. She wiped the tears away and pushed on. “You deserve someone better, someone who is whole.”

“Anna, that is not true. I've cared about you—no, don't try to stop me again. I've cared about you since that first day. When I covered you with my body as the tornado passed by, our lives were sealed together. And when I held your hand as we waited for help, we both knew that we were meant for one another. I dare you to tell me I'm wrong, to tell me you did not feel what I felt.”

“Feelings are not always a good basis—”

“I've waited, Anna. It's been nearly nine months, and I've tried to be patient, waiting for you to heal. Waiting for the right moment because I knew you needed time. Now the time for waiting has passed. I don't want to be patient anymore.”

“But you don't know me!” She closed her eyes until the hammering in her heart calmed. When she realized how ridiculous that must look, she opened them, but instead of looking at Jacob, she sought out the mare and colt. The sight calmed her and allowed her to confess the things on her heart. “I'm angry a lot of the time. More angry than you
can imagine, Jacob. Why did this happen to me? What did I do wrong? Does
Gotte
hate me?”

He started to speak, but she reached out her hand and stopped him. “Other times I know those questions are wrong. My mood calms, and I wonder what purpose
Gotte
could have… how He could possibly use me now, in this chair.
Mammi
is always talking of
Gotte
's plan for me, but I can't begin to imagine what that might be.”

“We can't always know.”

“So Bishop Levi says.”

“The bishop is right. You should listen to him.”

Anna couldn't help smiling at the scolding in Jacob's voice. One minute he was confessing his love, and the next he was speaking to her like a schoolgirl.

“What I'm saying is that not only is my body broken, but so is my heart.”

“Anna—”

“I do need to heal, Jacob, on the inside. And that could take months or it could take years.”

Now he stood, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and faced her. “Then I'll wait.”

“You will?” Anna gave him her best skeptical look. “When you were speaking to my
onkel
at breakfast last week, you weren't sure if you'd be here for the fall harvest.”

“Because I wasn't sure you wanted me to be here. I wasn't sure I could bear to stay if you didn't feel the same way that I do.”

Jacob waited, but Anna didn't utter the words he wanted to hear. It would only encourage him, and she refused to do that.

“You may not be ready to say you care for me, Anna Schwartz, but you're too honest to deny it.” Now a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I'm glad we've had this talk. I'll tell your
onkel
I can stay as long as he needs me.”

Anna shook her head, wanting to warn him that waiting on her was the wrong thing to do. But he was no longer listening. He moved behind her chair and began to push it back toward the group of folks
now talking and resting and playing underneath the shade of the Millers' pecan trees.

After a moment of silence, he said rather gruffly, “And since you won't speak of your feelings, tell me about this sewing that you've begun.”

So she did. She described in detail her visit to Teri's, the program that provided blankets for children, and how she was able to receive free supplies because fabric was often donated by stores and individuals. Thinking of the quilting lifted her spirits. It was the one thing she could do that benefited someone else.

By the time they had reached the picnic tables, Jacob was teasing her about using
Englisch
patterns and fabrics. He wheeled her into an open spot between Erin and the bishop's wife. “I'm sure my
mamm
has never seen puppy print fabric, and she's quilted since I was small.”

“Oh,
ya
. Anna likes the animal prints—dogs and cats, as well as rainbows and flowers.” Erin smiled fondly at her niece. “She's quite the wild one when it comes to fabric.”

The teasing soothed her raw emotions. Jacob whispered, “Visit with the women. I'll go and supervise that ball game.”

With a smile and a touch of his hand on her shoulder, he was gone.

Anna mostly listened to the talk of recipes and children as her mind went back over what had happened in the last half hour. Jacob had declared his love for her! Part of her heart wanted to tell her
aenti
, whisper the news to
Mammi
, and hurry home to write a letter to her mother. Another part was filled with dread, convinced that once he realized how damaged she was, he would change his mind.

CHAPTER 33

T
he next few days should have been easier, but instead they were more difficult than any Anna had endured since waking to find herself paralyzed and in an
Englisch
hospital.

The quilting was going well, but perhaps she worked on it too much. Her eyes would begin to burn from staring at the tiny stitches and her shoulders ached from sitting in one position for so long. Twice she stitched blocks together wrong, and the second time she threw the fabric on the kitchen table and declared, “Take it away from me. All I do is mess up everything I touch!”

Instead of reprimanding her,
Mammi
toddled over, folded up the quilt piece, and set it in Anna's sewing basket. “Let's go to the porch. Sometimes watching
Gotte
's rain helps my moods.”

But the rain didn't help. The sight of it falling and saturating Samuel's fields only made Anna more irritable. Even the smell of the rain, which she had once found so delightful, scratched against her nerves. After a few moments, she insisted on going inside and being transferred to her bed, but there she only stared at the wall, unable to sleep.

Erin came in to help her with her exercises, and Anna snapped.

“Why even bother doing them? What is the point?”

“Dr. Hartman says your exercises are very important, Anna.”

“I'll never walk again. We both know that. The exercises make no difference at all. It would be better for everyone if I had died in the storm.”

Erin may have been shocked the first time her niece said this, but no longer. Everyone, including Anna, was well past being surprised by her tantrums. Even as the words left her mouth, she wondered how they could possibly endure her presence. She heard herself. She was aware of how bitter and angry she sounded, and she realized that the person she had become was someone she didn't like very much.