"I think everyone's had a time when they're angry with God. Or at the very least disappointed?"
He was silent for so long that she wondered if she'd come across as preaching. The Amish didn't believe in doing that, but he still could think that. Neither of them spoke for several blocks.
"I doubt you've ever told God you're angry with Him."
"Well, disappointed might be more accurate," she agreed.
"Anyway, I didn't mean to take us down that path. This was supposed to be a pleasant hour or two away from home."
"I'm happy to listen if it helps."
He glanced at her. "You're a nice woman, Hannah."
"I don't think you thought that when you first came here."
"You were just being protective of your family. I don't blame you."
Another buggy passed, and its occupant leaned out the side and studied them. Chris saw it was Josiah coming back from his errand.
"Now I know he doesn't like me."
Hannah waved at Josiah. "He's just protective of the community.Doesn't like outsiders. And someone told me he's always been a little grumpy. His wife kept him from being that way when she was alive, but now that she's passed, well, there's no one to temper that, I suppose."
The clip-clopping of Daisy's hooves was the only sound for a while.
"Who's going to do that for me?" he heard her mutter.
"What?"
But she wouldn't answer him. He'd caught glimpses that all wasn't placid beneath her surface. He wondered why.
She was the most interesting woman he'd ever met. But she was also probably the most different woman from any he'd known in his life. Their worlds didn't mix.
Besides, he'd felt like he had the worst luck with women.He'd dated just like any other guy in high school, just not very often before he'd gone off to do his military service. He'd worked up the nerve to ask Bobbie Joe to be his steady and had even given her a promise ring. She'd written him overseas a number of times but abruptly dropped him over "the trouble" as she called it.
Now, of course, he was glad she had. Who knew how much worse it might have been if she'd done it after he was injured.
The library was their next stop.
Hannah decided to look for some books for her nieces and nephew and maybe a book on quilt patterns. They agreed to meet back at the front door in twenty minutes.
Chris headed straight for the computers available for public use. He sat beside an elderly woman who was looking at photos of children. "My grandchildren," she told him proudly as she scrolled through the shots.
A teen sat on the other side of him, casting nervous glances around. Chris didn't know if he was looking at something he shouldn't or if he was playing truant from school.
Chris logged on and pulled up his e-mail account. There were just a few that had been sent in the last couple weeks: one from his brother, Steve; one a reminder about a bill; and two from the buddies that had stuck by him through The Trouble.
He opened the one from his brother first. It was the usual— a mild complaint that he hadn't written for weeks and asking if he was enjoying his travels. It ended, as most e-mails from his brother did, with a request that Chris give him a call when he could. So he wrote an apology, explained that he was having a great time in Lancaster, and that he would call soon.
Of course, if he really intended to do that, he'd have to do something about his cell phone. When the battery on his cell had first run down, Matthew offered to charge it for him in the barn. Since so many of the Plain people ran businesses, he'd told Chris that cell phones were allowed for such. But Chris got few calls and really didn't care. So time passed and it lay in his backpack.
Taking care of some bills was next. And then Chris clicked on the first of the two messages from buddies. Jokester Brian told a joke so raw it made Chris glance around like the nervous teen next to him to make sure no one was reading it over his shoulder.
The next e-mail was from Jack, a rambling litany of complaints about life in the "private sector" by a former soldier buddy who'd complained nonstop during his time in the military.Chris had thought he'd be happier getting out, but now he wondered if Jack was the type of person who wasn't happy anywhere.
His hands stilled on the keyboard. He wondered if he was like Jack. He'd been so eager to get out of the hospital—get back to normal, everyday life. And the farm. He'd been so looking forward to being back on the farm.
And then, when he got there, the farm was much as it had been for years, but it felt different. No longer familiar. No longer home.
His family hadn't changed. He supposed he should be happy about that; all of them were just the way they'd been when he went overseas, just a little older. His brother, Steve, still talked about finding a good woman to help him run the farm. Aunt Bess still kept Uncle Joe in line. And his dad claimed it was time for Steve to do some work, so he went fishing when he could.