A Time to Heal(3)

After a brief stint in the military, a tradition in his family, he'd come home to help run the family farm. Marry a hometown girl, have kids with her, enjoy the American Dream.

But things hadn't quite worked out that way.

Now, as he stood knocking on the front door of an empty house, Chris felt like it was just one more example of how his life hadn't worked out the way he'd planned.

Letting his hand fall to his side, Chris glanced around. Now what? He had money, but it was too far to walk to a motel, and besides, they had to come home soon, didn't they? He would wait. He'd prayed about coming here for so long, he refused to walk away.

He strolled around the house, spotted the barn, and felt a smile creep over his face. The barn had always been one of his favorite places, aside from working in the fields with the sun warm on his back.

Pushing open the doors, he nodded in satisfaction at the sight that greeted him. The interior was spotless, with horse tack hung neatly on a nearby wall and the stalls cleaned and lined with straw.

The loft beckoned. It had been his favorite place on their Kansas farm. He climbed the ladder. Once up top, he took off his backpack and slung it down on the hay.

Sitting on the edge of the loft, he remembered all the times he'd felt bigger than himself, high above the ground.Sometimes he'd just wanted some time alone; sometimes he'd dreamed about all the places he longed to see.

Now he'd seen them, but there was only one place he wanted to go after visiting the woman he'd come so far to talk to. He wanted to go home, see if he could live there again, make peace with his family.

His whole body ached. He closed his eyes and rotated his head. He'd pushed too hard today. Opening his eyes, he glanced at the hay heaped invitingly behind him. Many a fine nap had been taken in his hayloft.

Glancing down, he saw that he'd left the barn door open.He would hear if someone came in with the horses. Lying back, he groaned with pleasure as he relaxed. No bed had ever felt softer.

Pulling his backpack closer with one hand, he reached inside and pulled out his Bible. He opened it to his favorite passage—actually, Vince's favorite passage in Ephesians, for he'd marked it by folding the page down—and read, "I pray that He would give you, according to the riches of his glory, to be strengthened with might by His spirit in the inner man."

He had riches. Sort of. He hadn't had anything to spend his money on with his enforced time off. Of course, the passage didn't mean just money. He understood that.

Strength? He supposed he had some of that although most everyone could use more. He'd survived things he'd never thought he could. Only now did he understand that it was because of the grace of God.

His eyelids drooped, and he forced them open. He couldn't fall asleep. Blinking, he continued reading. This wasn't his Bible, but when his buddy Vince got shot right in front of him, he'd taken it, tucked it into his pocket, and protected it ever since.

Lying in the loft reminded him of times as a kid when he'd sneak away to get some space—some time to read and think.The minute he got home, the rest of the day he spent on chores.Not that he didn't like living and working on the farm. But sometimes a guy needed to get away for a little while.

Dust motes danced in the sunlight streaming through the opening to the left of the loft. The aches and pains he'd noticed from his long, unaccustomed walk eased, and lethargy stole over him.

Peace. This was the peace he hadn't felt in two years. The Bible slipped from his fingers and he slept.





Hannah frowned when she saw the open barn door. She distinctly remembered shutting it before she left earlier. Matthew was a real stickler for keeping it shut, and the kinner knew that.

Daisy's nostrils flared, and she jerked at the harness when Hannah stepped inside the structure. The horse seldom behaved in a skittish way. Hannah murmured to calm her and glanced around. Did some animal hide inside?

When Daisy reached her stall, she shied away, but Hannah held on to the harness and pulled her toward it. Finally, the horse settled and went willingly.

After Hannah fed and watered the horse, she turned to leave the barn and heard a faint sound. Stopping, she listened, wondering if an animal had indeed gotten into the barn. One of the farm cats might need to chase down a mouse. There, she heard it again, from up above her head. Looking up, she watched as a piece of hay drifted down like a feather from a crack in the wood.

"Is someone there?"

Perhaps one of her nieces or nephew had climbed up into the loft. They weren't supposed to, but then again, kinner were kinner. Well, if they were being mischievous, she'd just surprise them.

She tiptoed over to the ladder and began climbing it. She'd just reached the top rung when suddenly a man's face appeared above her.

With a shriek, she stepped back and into air. Her hands slipped on the wood and she felt herself falling. His hand shot out and grasped hers, held, while her legs banged against the wood.