"I'm used to doing chores," he told her. "I grew up on a farm." He returned to the table to gather up the silverware."Besides, you need to get going, right?"
"Thanks, Chris." Jenny stood and looked at her husband."Can you help me with my suitcase?"
He jumped up. "Ya, of course."
They hurried up the stairs, and the bedroom door shut with a click.
Hannah watched Chris glance down the hall. She was sure he'd seen the same suitcase by the front door she had when she'd come over this morning.
When he turned back, Hannah caught his look and smiled.
"They still act like newlyweds," she said with a reluctant smile.
"It's good to see her looking so different from the way she was at the hospital." Running water in the sink, he squirted in dishwashing liquid.
"It was a hard time for her," Hannah said, picking up a dishcloth and joining him at the sink. "Matthew told me that Jenny was injured when a car bomber targeted her because of her news reporting. He said they didn't want the truth to get out about how civil war had harmed the children there."
He rinsed a plate and handed it to her.
"Why were you in the hospital? What happened to you?"
"Enemy with a bomb," he said shortly.
"So the two of you have a lot in common."
She'd made it a comment, not a question. So she didn't feel any surprise when he nodded and stayed silent. But when he handed her another plate to dry, he looked into her eyes and he sighed.
"Yes." He handed her a cup, then pulled the plug and let the water drain from the sink. "That's it. Are you ready to go?"
Hannah knew when someone didn't want to talk. Obviously this man who'd been so free to talk to the kinner and Jenny and Matthew a few minutes ago didn't want to talk to her.
Well, he didn't want to talk to her about whatever had caused those awful burn scars on his back. It had always seemed to her that most people liked to talk about their physical problems.Emotional ones too. But this man was a mystery.
She loved mysteries. Okay, so maybe she was a little bit nosy. But there was nothing wrong with that, was there?
She hung the dishcloth to dry. "I'll get the buggy."
Chris watched her start for the door and then realized that he'd be kind of crass to let her go do all the work while he sat and waited for her to pick him up.
"I'll help you."
"I don't need—"
"I'll help you."
"Did you have horses on your farm?" Hannah asked him as they walked over to Phoebe's barn.
"Two."
She didn't wait for him to open the door like some women did but reached for it. Their hands touched and she jerked back and looked at him in surprise as if he'd given her a shock.Taking advantage of her surprise, he opened the door and followed her inside.
"This is Daisy," she told Chris. "And Daisy, this is Chris."
The striking chestnut mare had big, expressive brown eyes."Aren't you a beauty?"
"And such a flirt," Hannah said as Daisy rubbed her nose against Chris's hand.
He looked at Hannah. "I heard somewhere that sometimes people here buy retired racehorses to pull their buggies. Did Daisy used to race?"
Hannah nodded. "She's like the wind."
The horse looked bigger than he expected, but Hannah quickly harnessed her and led her outside.
Chris glanced up as he heard the wheels of an approaching buggy. Jenny waved to them as they passed.
When he returned his attention to Hannah, Chris whistled when he saw that she had finished attaching the buggy to the horse.
"That was fast."
"I've been doing it a long time." She climbed into the buggy and waited for him to take a seat.
The buggy felt like a flimsy contraption compared to an automobile, but Chris supposed that if it were made of the things that cars were made of, it would take many more horses to pull it. The inside looked spare, with simple, cloth-covered seats.
Hannah called to the horse and they were off, almost racing past farms and open pasture. Chris absorbed the clip-clop vibration of the horse's hooves against the road, the gentle sway of the buggy, and the presence of the woman who sat beside him in her demure dress. A woman who glanced at him from beneath dark lashes, a smile playing around her lips.
"So where is your list, Englischman?" she asked.
It took Chris a minute to focus on what she'd said. "List?"
"You said you were here to look around, to learn about the Plain people. Tourists come here with expectations, with a list of things they'd like to do and see. So where is yours, Chris?"
He shrugged. "I don't have a list."
"I see."
"I'm not here to steal Jenny away," he said, reminding her of her accusation the night before.