A Time to Love (19 page)

Finishing his coffee, he stood. "I'm going out to the barn to do some chores."

"Baked pork chops for supper."

"With applesauce?"

"Ya. With applesauce," she said with an indulgent smile.

He chuckled as he left the house. She always knew how to get him to remember to come back on time for supper.

The doctor walked into Jenny's room where she sat in a wheelchair looking out the window.

"Good, you're ready."

A nurse had come in and helped her to dress in the sweat suit she'd worn into the hospital the day of surgery, which included a roomy pair of pants with Velcro down the sides. She'd accomplished the task with a lot of patience. Still, this had almost been too much for Jenny, and they'd had to go slowly and let her rest for a few minutes several times.

The woman had been helpful, but she wouldn't say why Dr. Mac wanted her to dress.

Jenny looked at him. He was wearing jeans and a polo shirt instead of the scrubs she always saw him in during his rounds. And he was carrying a big file. He handed it to her and began pushing her wheelchair out of the room.

"Are you discharging me today?"

"No. I have a surprise for you."

"I don't like surprises," she muttered darkly.

"I can imagine," he told her, punching the button on the elevator. "But this might be a good one."

A medical transport van was waiting at the hospital entrance. Jenny took a deep breath and exhaled. Even tinged with exhaust, it was nice to smell something other than the antiseptic smell of hospital air. But there would be nothing like the clean, fresh smell of the air back in Lancaster County. Sighing, she watched as the driver hooked her chair to the lift and tried not to wince when there was a small jolt as it settled inside the vehicle. Mac and the driver climbed in and soon they were off.

About ten minutes later, the van pulled into the driveway of a veterans' hospital.

"What are we doing here?"

Mac leaned around his seat. "I got a friend to consult with me about your case."

"I'm not a veteran."

"Well, you're pretty close to one, covering war overseas. But don't worry about it. She's doing it gratis."

"But why a veterans' hospital?"

"They're specialists in your type of injury here."

"What—"

"So many questions," Mac said, grinning at her.

"I'm a reporter. Questions are my life," she shot back.

Then she thought,
My old life.

Once inside the hospital, Mac handed her the files and pushed her wheelchair down the hallways. Obviously, he knew his way.

Mac's friend, Lannie Barber, MD, turned out to be a pretty redhead with a long ponytail and inquisitive green eyes. She looked barely out of high school as she strode up to Jenny, shook her hand, and then seated herself behind her desk with an air of authority.

"Sorry I couldn't meet you at the hospital, but really, this is the best place for an exam."

She took the files Mac handed to her. Gesturing at him to sit, she began reading.

Jenny fidgeted in her wheelchair while she tried to decipher the other woman's expression. It was unnerving sitting here, feeling the anxiety build about what the doctor would say.

Finally, Dr. Barber looked up, only to fire off a barrage of questions at Mac. They engaged in a highly technical dialogue about tests and theories. The thick file was abandoned as they frowned over Jenny's x-rays and tossed around more mysterious jargon. She'd always considered herself a smart woman, but most of it was over her head.

Then Dr. Barber turned to her. "Would you mind if I examined you?"

Jenny had barely agreed when she was whisked to a room and lifted carefully onto an exam table.

"Nice work," Dr. Barber told Mac as she studied the surgical incision, then looked at the x-ray again.

"Thanks."

"Dr. Barber—"

"Lannie." She smiled at Jenny. "And I'm sorry, I haven't exactly been giving you my best bedside manner."

"It's okay. I just want to find out if I'm going to be okay."

"I want to run blood tests and then I'll be able to tell you more."

Mac wheeled her down to the lab and the blood was drawn.

"Can you wait here for a few minutes?" Mac asked her. "I want to check this out with Lannie.

"Sure."

He and Lannie disappeared with the technician, leaving Jenny in the hallway.

The place was a whirlwind of activity that swirled around her, patients being wheeled in and out of the lab, up and down the hallway to physical therapy. Unlike the hospital where her surgery had been performed, though, the patients at this one were mostly male, her age or younger.

But despite all of the people milling around, she felt as alone as she could ever remember.

Anxiety grew the longer she sat there. She talked to herself the way she had when she'd fallen on the road in the snow. How she wished Matthew would come find her, lifting her up and taking her back to his house to have dinner with his
kinner.
It won't be much longer,
she told herself.

Someone dropped something metal near her—she shattered, crying out and covering her face with her hands.

"Miss? Miss? Are you all right?"

Shaking, she looked into the concerned face of a man who sat in a wheelchair in front of her.

"It's okay, it's not gunfire," he was saying. "We're here, in the hospital. You're safe."

She dropped her shaking hands into her lap and looked around, then back at him. "I—I know. I'm okay."

"Where'd you serve?"

"Serve?" She realized he thought she'd been in the military."Oh, no. I was a civilian."

Recognition dawned in the kind blue eyes studying her. "I know you. I saw you on TV. I've watched a lot of it since I came to this hospital."

He gestured toward his heavily bandaged left leg , then held out his hand. "The name's Christopher Matlock. And you're Jenny Miller."

His hand was warm and strong and callused, like Matthew's."I haven't seen you around here. I thought I knew everyone."

"I'm just here for a consultation. I had surgery and my doctor wanted me to see someone here."

"How many surgeries have you had so far?"

"Three."

"You're one up on me. Course, I saw what happened to you. I think you got it worse than I did."

So he'd been a bombing victim, too. No wonder he'd seemed to understand when she fell apart.

"I was just going to get coffee. Can I buy you a cup?"

He'd been through what she had and besides, he had such an appealing all-American boy-next-door look with blond hair cut military short, such sincere blue eyes, and an easy, engaging smile.

It was just a cup of coffee and some conversation about things they had in common. Maybe it was better than sitting alone getting anxious about the blood tests and consultation. And who knew how long the blood tests would take?

"That'd be nice, thanks. Just let me tell Mac where I'll be."

M
atthew heard muffled crying as he passed Annie's room. He looked inside and saw that Annie had the covers pulled over her head. Sitting on the bed, he tugged at the quilt. "Annie? What's the matter,
liebschen?"

Annie remained quiet under the quilt, but now he heard the hiccups she always got when she cried hard. He tugged again, and this time her tousled head was revealed.

"Tell
Daedi
what's wrong."

"I miss Jenny."

"I do, too."

Sitting up, she pushed her hair back from her face and knuckled away her tears. "She's not coming back. She went away just like
Mamm
and she's never coming back!"

"She's coming back,
liebschen.
She just needs to stay in the hospital a little longer."

Matthew didn't really understand why and he was getting worried, too. Phoebe had told him they were keeping Jenny there a few more days but didn't seem to know more.

But Annie couldn't be convinced. Tears started to flow again. "She's not coming back."

"She is. I promise." He hoped he could keep that promise.

"Let's go get her. I can take care of her."

Matthew hid his smile, gathering her into his arms. "I know you could. You'd do a good job. You take good care of your
dall."
He stroked her back.

"I'd bring her
supp
and
kichli
and loan her my
gwilde."

Jenny might just feel better having a little girl who loved her serving her soup and cookies, tucked up with a warm quilt,
he couldn't help thinking. The sooner they got Jenny back here, the better for all of them.

"Tell you what. We'll call her tomorrow, how about that?"

"Now." Annie, usually so sweet and amenable, folded her arms across her chest as her bottom lip jutted out.

"No, not now," he said firmly. "It's bedtime. She's sleeping like you should be. We'll call her as soon as Mary and Joshua come home from schul tomorrow afternoon. If Phoebe is there we'll talk to her, too."

"But
Daedi—"

"But Annie!" he said, smiling in spite of himself. "Listen to
Daedi."

She gave a dramatic sigh and nodded, then hugged him before she lay down and let him cover her tightly with her quilt. He leaned down to kiss her and left the room.

On his way to his own bed he looked in on Mary. She was turned toward the wall and her quilt—one her mother had made while she had chemotherapy—was pulled high up over her shoulder.

At first he thought she was sleeping, but then, just as he turned to go down the hallway to check on Joshua, he thought he heard sniffling. Glancing back, he saw that Mary's body was shaking.

"Mary?" he said softly, just in case he'd misheard and she was sleeping. A quiet sniffle came from under the quilt. When she didn't answer, he walked into the room and sat on her bed.

"Mary, is something wrong?" He prayed that she wasn't starting her woman time, dreaded that day,, glad that he could refer questions to Jenny or Hannah.

"I miss Jenny."

He nodded. "Me too."

"You don't think
Mamm
is upset that I said that?" she wanted to know as she sat up and looked at him, pushing away her tears. "I wouldn't want
Mamm
to be upset with me."

"She loves you. She would only look down on you with love," he told her. For the second time that night he gathered a daughter in his arms and tried to give her comfort, drawing the comfort he needed, too.

"I love her. Jenny, I mean. And
Mamm,
too." She was silent for a long moment. "She told me her
mamm
died when she was a girl."

"I know." He and Jenny had talked about it the first summer she'd come to visit her
grossmudder.
She felt she lost two parents—first her mother and then her father, who retreated into a world of his own, so grief-stricken he didn't realize that his daughter needed him.

Matthew had tried to remember not to do that when Amelia died but he didn't feel he'd succeeded. His children seemed well-adjusted, but he felt that was due more to Hannah than himself. She'd kept the whole family together.

"I promised Annie we'd call Jenny after you come home from schul tomorrow," he told her. "But you have to go to sleep now."

She opened her mouth to protest but the protest turned into a yawn.

"Right now," he said

"Okay. Night,
Daedi."

He tucked her in and turned to leave the room.

Joshua stood there in the doorway, . his eyes sad.

With a tired sigh, Matthew draped an arm around his son's shoulders.
The boy has grown another couple inches,
he thought.

"She'll be home soon,
Sohn,"
he said as he guided Joshua toward his bedroom. He sat with him, quietly talking before Joshua pulled his quilt up to his chin and closed his eyes.

A few minutes later, Matthew approached his own bedroom.

This time of the day had always been his favorite. He'd so enjoyed this looking in on the
kinner,
tucked up safe and warm, sometimes smiling as they dreamed. He used to hold Amelia's hand as they performed this loving chore and then they'd walk into their own room and shut the door and have their together time. They loved their children, but their time alone as a couple was so special.

Now he was glad that they had made their time together special, for Amelia was gone but he had no regrets about making her know that he loved her.

Lying there alone in the big bed he'd built with his own hands, he thought about Jenny. He hoped that she wasn't in so much pain tonight, that she had cheered up, that she'd been told she was getting to go home soon. And he hoped that she was looking forward to coming home to him. With that thought, he laid his hand on the pillow beside his where he hoped she'd rest her head one day, and he slept.

"Shame on you, Doctor," Hailey chided Mac as she followed him into Jenny's room. "You've kept her out too long. Look at her; she's pale and obviously in pain. Did you think to give her something for it?"

He stood back as Hailey set the brake on the wheelchair and helped Jenny into bed, fussing over her, taking off her slippers, pulling the sheets over her. She reconnected the IV with the pain meds. "Let's let this take the edge off your pain before we get those clothes off you."

"Well, uh, since everything's under control here, I'll be going," Mac said, backing toward the door.

"Sure, make her have a setback then take no responsibility," Hailey muttered. "What were you thinking?"

Mac stiffened. "Hey, I'm a doctor; you shouldn't be talking to me like that."

Having safely tucked her patient into bed, Hailey turned, put her hands on her hips, and gave him a fulminating glance.

"I—gotta go," he said. "We'll talk about this later."

"You bet we will!"

Jenny hid a smile and tried to get comfortable in bed. When her grandmother walked in a few minutes later, the medication was beginning to work and her head was nodding.

Hailey was holding the hanger with Jenny's clothes, about to put it into the closet.

"Does this mean she's getting discharged?" Phoebe wanted to know, her voice pitched higher with excitement.

"No, the doctor took Jenny out for a consultation. I was just hanging up her clothes."

"Consultation?" Phoebe looked from one to the other.

Jenny tried to think of a distraction. "Is that dinner?"

Hailey glanced toward the door. "I'm not sure. I'll go check."

Jenny sneaked a look at her grandmother and saw that she was staring at her intently.

"Your doctor took you for a consultation outside the hospital? What's going on, Jenny? And don't tell me it's nothing."

"I'm just worrying. It's nothing."

"It's not nothing if it's worrying you,
kind."

"I don't want to worry you."

"I won't worry," Phoebe said firmly. She took Jenny's hand and stroked it. "You won't worry me. Remember—"

"It's arrogant to worry when God knows what He's doing. He has a plan for you," Jenny quoted. "I remember."

So much has changed. What will happen now?
She promptly burst into tears.

Phoebe sat on the bed and took Jenny into her arms. She patted her on the back and let her cry it out. "Ssh,
liebschen,
ssh, it's all right. Nothing can be this bad."

Jenny drew back to reach for a tissue and wipe away her tears. Taking a deep breath, she told her grandmother what had been happening, all in a rush so she wouldn't lose her nerve or start crying again.

"I can see why you're upset," Phoebe said gravely, taking Jenny's hands in hers. "You weren't expecting news like this."

"I thought things were going so well." Jenny's voice shook.

"They are."

"How can you say that?" She stared at her grandmother.

"Your doctor hasn't brought you bad news yet, has he?
Nee,"
she said when Jenny shook her head. "But if he does, you'll deal with it, Jenny, just as you have all that has happened to you— with grace, with faith. With hope. And you'll have Matthew and the
kinner
to help you through it."

Matthew. Tears rushed into Jenny's eyes again, and she blinked them back furiously. There had been too many tears for so long. Her grandmother was right—she had to wait to see what Mac and Lannie found out.

One of the nursing aides walked in with a dinner tray. Another aide followed, bringing Phoebe's tray.

Phoebe pulled the second bed table closer to Jenny's and then sat down there. They bent their heads in prayer for the meal.

Jenny poked at the contents of her plate. Tonight supper was ham, macaroni and cheese, and some limp brussels sprouts.

"You need to eat."

"I know." She cut a piece of ham. "I was just remembering the first time I made dinner—for Matthew and Hannah and the
kinner.
You told me how to bake a ham. Remember?"

"Yes, indeed."

She put a bite of ham in her mouth and chewed and then frowned at the funny noise she heard. Glancing over, she saw that her grandmother was pressing her lips together, trying not to laugh.

"The biscuits," they said at the same time, laughing.

"I looked the next day and even the wild animals weren't desperate enough to eat them," Jenny told her.

Phoebe pulled Jenny's cell phone from her pocket and handed it to Jenny. It vibrated in Jenny's hand as she looked to see who was calling.

"It's Matthew."

"He said he'd call tonight. I told him when I would be here to see you."

Jenny felt such a mix of emotions—pure, undiluted joy at his calling and then, just as quickly, trepidation about what she would say if he asked how she was doing. She hoped he wouldn't ask her anything she couldn't answer without worrying him. She flipped it open. "Hello."

"
Gut-n-owed,
Jenny."

"Matthew! How are you?"

"
Gut.
But I'm calling to see how you are." He stopped as Jenny heard Annie speaking in the background. "Wait a minute, Jenny, Annie is being very impatient."

She closed her eyes and bit her lip as he calmly reminded his daughter that she'd get to talk to Jenny in a minute.

The last time they'd talked, she had been feeling awful— full of pain from the surgery, full of fear at what the doctor had told her.

The pain was easing a little, and she still didn't know what Mac tell her in the next day or two. But her grandmother was right. She had to have faith. Hers had slipped, but somehow she had to find it again.

She hadn't thought she'd find love, not with her injuries. But Matthew had seen past them. She didn't want to lose him, didn't want to lose his precious children she'd fallen in love with as much as with him.

"Jenny? Are you still there?"

"I'm here. And yes, I'm feeling a little better. Thank you."

"Jenny, Jenny, Jenny," Annie sing-songed.

She laughed. What a darling little girl.

"Go tell Mary and Joshua to come," Matthew told her.

"I talk firwst."

"You get to go first," he agreed. "Go find Mary and Joshua."

"Jenny, Annie was upset last night," Matthew said quickly."If you could reassure her that you're coming home soon, I'd appreciate it."

"Of course." She took a deep breath and then sighed. "Oh, I want to come home so badly."

"You've been away too long." His voice was low and fervent.

"It should be just a few more days," she told him and when she looked over at her grandmother, Jenny saw that she was smiling and nodding.

She heard a commotion over the phone line. Matthew was chuckling as Annie could be heard in the background.

"Annie's back. I'll let her talk now. Don't hang up when she's finished."

Jenny relaxed against her pillows and smiled. "I won't."

She heard Matthew gently reminding Annie not to talk too long, that Mary and Joshua wanted to talk, too.

A half hour later, after talking to each of the children and even Hannah, then saying good-bye to Matthew, Jenny handed the phone back to her grandmother.