A Time To Heal by Barbara Cameron

Why are they watching us?”
    “It's just Josiah,” Matthew said, squinting into the sun to see better. “He's probably just curious.”
    “Curious about what?”
    “About what we're doing. He doesn't have much to do these days since he can't farm anymore.” He bent his head and looked closely at Chris. “Do you need to take a break?”
    “No. I'm fine.” He turned back to the task he'd been doing, then remembered his manners. “But thanks.”
    A few minutes later, when he looked again, the buggy still sat there. Frowning, Chris forced his attention on his work. It's just some old, busy-body guy, he told himself. Let it go.
    Working with the other men felt a little like being with his Army buddies. No need to do a lot of talking, especially with these men. At first he wasn't sure if it was because he was the outsider or because they'd all worked together for so long. In any case, they found a rhythm, he and these men, and when one needed something, it took just a look or a word or two and another man appeared to lead the wagon they were loading with hay or soybeans or with one of the vegetable fields that had been planted.
    Later, he wondered if he lost it because he'd felt uncomfortable or had been thinking about his military buddies.
    Hannah came out of the house with a tray and started toward them, but the buggy caught her attention. She turned and walked toward it and began talking with its occupant. It didn't look like a friendly conversation because she seemed to stiffen, stand up taller, and she shook her head.
    Then, when she turned, a man's hand shot out and grasped her arm, stopping her from walking away.
    A buzzing began in Chris's ears. He dropped the hay bale in his hands and walked swiftly toward them.
    “Let her go!” he called and then he began running. He hadn't been able to stop it last time, but maybe this time he'd get a second chance to make it right. “I said let her go!”
    He saw Hannah glance up and look surprised. “Chris? What's the matter?”
    All he could see was her being restrained by the man, being pulled into the vehicle. She fought with the man, crying out and hitting him. Her clothes ripped as he relentlessly dragged her toward him, tossing her inside. Chris reached her and pulled her away, shoving her behind him so forcefully that she staggered and fell.
    In a haze, he turned to grab the man in the Jeep, but it had turned into a buggy that rolled on down the road.
    “Chris! What are you doing?” Hannah cried.
    He turned, shaking his head, breathing hard, and saw that she lay on the ground, the contents of the tray she'd been carrying scattered on the ground around her.
    “Hannah? Are you okay?” he asked slowly, feeling as though his veins were filled with molasses.
    He bent and reached out a hand to her to help her up and frowned when she flinched. “What's the matter? I'm not going to hurt you. I saved you.”
    “Saved me?” She got to her feet on her own and brushed the pieces of grass from her skirt. “Look what you've done!”
    A car approached and pulled into the drive. The passenger door opened and a woman emerged.
    “Hannah? Are you all right?”
    Chris turned and saw Jenny running toward them.
    “He was taking her,” he told her. “He was hurting her.”
    She stopped and stared at him. “Josiah?” Frowning, Jenny touched Hannah's arm. “Josiah was hurting you?”
    Hannah stared at Chris. “No,” she said. “He wasn't hurting me. Jenny, something's wrong with Chris.”
    “Chris?”
    He shook his head, trying to clear it, and then his stomach sank. “Sorry,” he mumbled and he started for the back of the house, toward the dawdi haus.
    “Jenny—”
    “Let me talk to him.”
    He felt Jenny's hand on his arm.
    “Chris, wait a minute!”
    “I'm all right.”
    “Talk to me.”
    “It was just a spell. I'm fine, I don't need to talk to anyone.”
    All he could think about was getting to his room, getting his things, getting out of there. He'd made a