out of the buggy and grabbed his duffel bag. He would rather stay somewhere alone, but he didn’t have much choice. He forced a smile and a lighthearted reply. “Your cooking can’t be worse than mine. You have yourself a boarder until I can find a place of my own. We can work out the rent later.”
“No need for that.” Jesse moved to take Michael’s bag. “Let me get this for you.”
Michael handed it over. Jesse nodded toward the building he had been working on. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to finish this shed before taking you out to my place.”
“I don’t mind. I’ll give you a hand with it.”
Looking at Michael’s cane, Jesse raised one eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
“I can still swing a hammer.”
“Then your help will be welcome. I’ll see you get paid for the work you do.”
“Danki.”
Michael turned to Bethany. “Looks like your brother has been granted a reprieve if Jedidiah wasn’t able to speak to the bishop.”
Bethany’s eyes brightened. “That’s right.”
“Oh, Jedidiah was here and spoke to Elmer before he left,” Jesse said cheerfully.
Michael watched the hope fade in her eyes and wished there was something he could do to console her.
Michael watched Bethany drive away with a sharp unexpected sense of loss. She was a lovely woman, but he sensed she was much more than a pretty face. It was obvious that she cared about her family. Anyone who asked a cow for advice had to have a good sense of humor.
He smiled then quickly pushed thoughts of her out of his head. As much as she intrigued him, he was better off not seeing her.
Forming a relationship with Bethany would mean letting her get close. He couldn’t risk that. He had jumped at the chance to come to this part of Maine because it was remote and thinly populated but it held an Amish community. He had left his Amish upbringing once with devastating consequences. After the attack he had returned home hopeful that rejoining his faith and family would repair his shattered life. It hadn’t worked out that way. He didn’t know what more God needed from him.
Michael’s plan for his new life was simple. Live and work alone while coming into contact with as few people as possible. He wasn’t a loner by nature. He had become a recluse out of necessity. Avoiding people was the only way he felt safe. The only way he could keep his affliction hidden. Staying with Jesse was risky, but he had nowhere else to go. He could only pray he didn’t have an episode in front of him.
A doctor in Philadelphia had called it PTSD. Post-traumatic stress disorder, the result of a robbery gone wrong at the jewelry store where he had worked. What it meant was that his life was no longer his own. He lived in near constant fear. When a full-blown flashback hit he relived every detail as his coworkers, his friends, were killed in front of his eyes. The gunshots, the screams, the sirens—he saw it, heard it, felt it all again just as if it were happening to him the first time.
He never knew when a flashback would happen, making it impossible for him to return to work. Even a walk down a city street left him hearing the footsteps of someone following him, waiting to feel the cold, hard barrel of a gun jammed in his back.
He was the one who had let them in. He was the only one who came out alive. Sometimes he felt he should have died with the others, but he couldn’t dwell on that thought. God had other plans for him. He just didn’t know what they were.
The heavy thudding of his heart and the sweat on his brow warned him that thinking about it was the last thing he should be doing. He took a deep breath. Concentrate on something else. Think about Bethany asking her cow for advice and the shocked look on her face when she realized he’d heard her conversation. He visualized her in detail as his pulse slowed to a more normal speed.
From the corner of his eye he caught sight of the yellow dog trotting along the edge of the highway in his direction. Did she belong to someone or was she a stray surviving as best she could? Her thin ribs proved she wasn’t being cared for if someone did own her. Her chances of surviving the rest of the winter on her own didn’t look good. She approached as close as the drive leading into the parking lot. After pacing back and forth a few times she sat down and stared at him.
He turned to Jesse. “Do you know who that dog belongs to?”
Jesse glanced at her and shook his head. “I’ve seen her around. I think she’s a stray.”
“Would you happen to have anything I can feed her?”
Jesse laughed. “Are you a softhearted fellow?”
“Is there anything wrong with that if I am?”
“Nee, I like animals, too. Maybe more than most people, but I think I’m going to like you, Michael Shetler.” Jesse clapped him on the back with his massive hand, almost knocking Michael over. “There’s a couple of ham sandwiches in the refrigerator inside the office. You are welcome to them. For you or for the dog. Your choice.”
“Danki.” Michael walked into a small building with Office in a hand-lettered sign over the door. Inside he found a small refrigerator with a coffeepot sitting on top of it. He took out two of the sandwiches, happy to see they contained thick slices of ham and cheese. After taking a couple of bites from one, he walked out with the rest in his hand. The dog was still sitting in the driveway.
He walked to within a few feet of her and laid the sandwich on the ground. As soon as he moved away she jumped up and gulped down the food. Looking up, she wagged her tail, clearly wanting more.
“Sorry, that’s all there is. We are two of a kind, it seems. You needed a handout and so did I. We have Jesse over there to thank for sharing his lunch.” Michael chuckled. He had teased Bethany about talking to her cow but here he was talking to a dog. It was too bad Bethany wasn’t here to share the joke.
What surprised him was how much he wanted to see her again.
* * *
Jeffrey Morgan’s home was a little more than a mile farther up the road from Bethany’s house. As she pulled in she saw Jeffrey’s mother getting out of her car. When she caught sight of Bethany she approached the buggy hesitantly.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Morgan.” Bethany stepped down from the buggy unsure of what to say.
“You are Ivan’s mother, aren’t you?” The woman remained a few feet away.
“I’m his older sister. Our mother passed away some years ago.”
“That’s right. Jeffrey told me that. I’m sorry about your grandfather. Jeffrey was fond of him.”
“Thank you. Is Jeffrey here?”
“No. He’s at school.”
“I’m afraid he isn’t. I just came from the school. Neither he nor my brother showed up for class today.”
Mrs.
