In a haze, he turned to grab the man in the Jeep, but it had turned into a buggy that rolled on down the road.
"Chris! What are you doing?" Hannah cried.
He turned, shaking his head, breathing hard, and saw that she lay on the ground, the contents of the tray she'd been carrying scattered on the ground around her.
"Hannah? Are you okay?" he asked slowly, feeling as though his veins were filled with molasses.
He bent and reached out a hand to her to help her up and frowned when she flinched. "What's the matter? I'm not going to hurt you. I saved you."
"Saved me?" She got to her feet on her own and brushed the pieces of grass from her skirt. "Look what you've done!"
A car approached and pulled into the drive. The passenger door opened and a woman emerged.
"Hannah? Are you all right?"
Chris turned and saw Jenny running toward them.
"He was taking her," he told her. "He was hurting her."
She stopped and stared at him. "Josiah?" Frowning, Jenny touched Hannah's arm. "Josiah was hurting you?"
Hannah stared at Chris. "No," she said. "He wasn't hurting me. Jenny, something's wrong with Chris."
"Chris?"
He shook his head, trying to clear it, and then his stomach sank. "Sorry," he mumbled and he started for the back of the house, toward the dawdi haus.
"Jenny—"
"Let me talk to him."
He felt Jenny's hand on his arm.
"Chris, wait a minute!"
"I'm all right."
"Talk to me."
"It was just a spell. I'm fine, I don't need to talk to anyone."
All he could think about was getting to his room, getting his things, getting out of there. He'd made a fool of himself, scared Hannah, and had everyone staring at him. They all probably thought he was a freak . . . or mentally ill.
She yanked on his arm with more force than he'd have thought she had in her petite form. He tried to continue but he realized he was half-dragging her and from the corner of his eye he saw Matthew running over.
He stopped, but he wouldn't look at her.
"Chris, I know what you're going through—"
"No you don't."
Matthew appeared at his side. "What's wrong?"
"I need to talk to Chris."
"But—"
"Please, I just need a minute."
"Okay," Matthew said finally. "I'll give you a minute. But I'm staying right here."
Jenny waited a moment and then she shook Chris's arm."Look at me. Please?"
He raised his eyes and saw that she looked at him with compassion. "You had a flashback, didn't you?"
"How'd you know?"
"Because I've seen them. I've had them."
Sighing, he ran his hand through his hair. "Haven't had one in months." He glanced over his shoulder. Hannah stared at him and appeared confused. When he looked up at Matthew, he was surprised to see that he was wearing an expression much like his wife's.
"Post-traumatic stress syndrome?"
Surprised, Chris nodded. "You've heard of it? Here?"
Matthew nodded, touched Jenny's shoulder. "Jenny wasn't a soldier like you, but she's had some problems."
"I scared Hannah."
"Go talk to her. She'll understand."
"I don't know how," Chris said. "I don't understand it myself." He took a deep breath.
"Go talk to her."
"Later," Chris mumbled. He pulled open the door. "Later."
As he closed the door behind him, he heard Jenny exclaim, "Men!"
"Hey!" said Matthew.
The door shut out their exchange.
Hannah took a deep breath and then knocked at the door of the dawdi haus.
When no one answered, she knocked again, louder this time.
She heard a thud inside the house and then the door opened.
Chris glared at her, one hand on his hip. "What? Can't a man be left alone?"
"I wanted to make sure you're okay."
"I'm a soldier—was a soldier," he amended. "I can take care of myself."
Taken aback at what he'd said, she searched for something to say. "I'm sure you can," she said at last.
She knew about men who had to look strong, be strong.Matthew was one of them. He'd spent the year before his first wife died being strong for her and their kinner and then grieved so hard for three years after her death, before Jenny had come back into his life.
Since Chris had been a soldier, she supposed it was even more a part of him to be masculine, to be strong physically and emotionally, to not depend on anyone for anything.
"I'm fine."
"Really?" She stared at him. "You don't look fine."
"Well, I am." He started to close the door, then hesitated."Look, I'm sorry I scared you."