A Time To Heal by Barbara Cameron Read Free Book Online Page A

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.
    “ Nee?”
    “Huh?”
    “No?”
    “No. I just thought I'd play it by ear. Before I got your services as a tour guide, I mean.” He met her gaze. “So I'll leave it up to you.”
    “ Allrecht. I'll take you to the places I think you'd expect to see then.”
    “Great,” he said.
    They traveled a little farther without speaking. Then something made him glance over at her. He blinked. Was it his imagination that she looked like she was trying to hide a smile?
    She must have felt him looking at her for when she turned her head and found him regarding her curiously, she carefully schooled her expression.

    She took him to a bakery filled with tourists eagerly buying traditional baked goods, and they chatted with a friend who worked there.
    Chris looked at the vast array and couldn't decide what to get. He'd never seen so many different varieties of cookies, cakes, and pies. A lot of people were buying something called shoofly pie. Chris took a sample, but it tasted overly sweet to him.
    The door opened and half a dozen people swarmed in.Where had all these people come from? There were tourists everywhere.
    And Hannah was right. There were groups of people— families and senior citizens—but no single men like himself.
    “What do the children like?” he asked Hannah while he waited to be served.
    She laughed. “Everything. I don't think I've