He watched her absently rub at a faded scar on her hand.It no longer felt strange to see this woman he'd seen at the veteran's hospital wearing Plain clothing, doing chores around the farm, and stealing time to write while the children—her children now—were at school.
"Not everyone was accepting of our getting married," she told him with a smile.
They looked at each other and at the same time said, "Josiah."
She laughed. "Yes. Apparently you and I are in a unique society for his . . . mistrust. But he's grown to accept me even if he doesn't approve of me. It'll take time for him to accept you."
"You act like I'm staying."
Getting to her feet, she reached down and patted his cheek."Yes, because even though you're a man, I think you're smarter than that."
"Hey!"
She stopped at the door and turned around. "Look, I shouldn't have teased you. It's scary loving someone. But do you really want to walk away from Hannah without even trying to see if it'll work?"
She didn't wait for him to answer.
Good thing, he thought, because he didn't know what to say.
Hannah sat with her quilting circle, trying to stitch a section of the Sunshine and Shadow quilt she'd started for Chris before she was shot.
It was fortunate that she was right-handed and it was her left arm that had been injured. But the awkwardness and occasional pain shooting down her arm as she worked didn't make things easy.
She didn't know why she was still working on this. Why should she give him a quilt when he wouldn't visit her—even now when only a field separated them?
The other women had offered to help her complete it, but she always finished what she started. First, she'd finish the quilt.
Then she'd have a talk with him and he'd hear how she felt about him not coming to see her.
Then she thought, why not now? The time was right—right now!
She marched to the door.
"Hannah? Where are you going?" Phoebe called to her.
The other ladies looked up from their quilting.
"I need to go next door for something. I'll be right back."
She found Jenny in the kitchen, sitting at the table, writing on a big yellow pad.
"Well, hello! Are you through with the quilting already? I can fix us some tea—"
"So what does 'sweetheart' mean?" she asked without preamble.
"You know what it means."
"Tell me."
"Okay. It's a term someone uses when they love you."
"The meaning hasn't changed?"
Jenny stared at her. "No. Why?"
"I'll be right back."
Hannah turned on her heel and stomped outside. But she didn't see Chris in the fields with the other men.
Joshua was working in the yard.
"Where's Chris?"
"He left just a few minutes ago," Joshua told her.
"Left? Where was he going?"
"I don't know."
Hannah scanned the fields. It seemed to her that the harvesting had been completed for all practical purposes. Had Chris gone into town—or had he left for good?
"Do you need something, Aenti Hannah?"
"I'll say. I need to tell that man—" She stopped when she saw the curiosity on Joshua's face. "How long ago?"
"Just a little while ago. I could go try to catch him for you."
"Never mind," she said, gritting her teeth. "Can you hitch up Daisy for me?"
"Schur."
They walked over to Phoebe's barn.
"Do you want me to go with you?" Joshua asked as he led a fully recovered Daisy out with the buggy. "You need help, don't you?" He waved his hand at her sling.
Such a sweet boy. She hoped he didn't grow up to be a man who drove women crazy like Chris.
"I'll be fine. Danki, Joshua." She climbed into the buggy and Daisy started off.
Hannah muttered to herself as they traveled, rehearsing what she wanted to say to Chris. Okay, so apparently they weren't going to have the relationship she'd hoped they would, but weren't they at least friends? Didn't friends visit each other when they were ill or when they came home from the hospital? Didn't they wish each other well?
And if he was leaving for good, couldn't he at least say goodbye to her? She deserved that, didn't she?
Halfway to town, she saw his lone figure ahead. His long legs were putting more distance between them. You just can't get away fast enough, can you? she wanted to ask him. She urged Daisy faster so that she could pull up beside him.
He glanced up as the buggy came level with him, and his eyes widened in surprise. "Hannah!"
"I want to talk to you!"
"Okay."
He joined her at the side of the road after she'd pulled the buggy over. She remembered the last time she'd seen him on this road, remembered what had happened, but she pushed that memory aside.