A Time to Heal - By Barbara Cameron Page 0,3

got shot right in front of him, he'd taken it, tucked it into his pocket, and protected it ever since.

Lying in the loft reminded him of times as a kid when he'd sneak away to get some space—some time to read and think.The minute he got home, the rest of the day he spent on chores.Not that he didn't like living and working on the farm. But sometimes a guy needed to get away for a little while.

Dust motes danced in the sunlight streaming through the opening to the left of the loft. The aches and pains he'd noticed from his long, unaccustomed walk eased, and lethargy stole over him.

Peace. This was the peace he hadn't felt in two years. The Bible slipped from his fingers and he slept.

Hannah frowned when she saw the open barn door. She distinctly remembered shutting it before she left earlier. Matthew was a real stickler for keeping it shut, and the kinner knew that.

Daisy's nostrils flared, and she jerked at the harness when Hannah stepped inside the structure. The horse seldom behaved in a skittish way. Hannah murmured to calm her and glanced around. Did some animal hide inside?

When Daisy reached her stall, she shied away, but Hannah held on to the harness and pulled her toward it. Finally, the horse settled and went willingly.

After Hannah fed and watered the horse, she turned to leave the barn and heard a faint sound. Stopping, she listened, wondering if an animal had indeed gotten into the barn. One of the farm cats might need to chase down a mouse. There, she heard it again, from up above her head. Looking up, she watched as a piece of hay drifted down like a feather from a crack in the wood.

"Is someone there?"

Perhaps one of her nieces or nephew had climbed up into the loft. They weren't supposed to, but then again, kinner were kinner. Well, if they were being mischievous, she'd just surprise them.

She tiptoed over to the ladder and began climbing it. She'd just reached the top rung when suddenly a man's face appeared above her.

With a shriek, she stepped back and into air. Her hands slipped on the wood and she felt herself falling. His hand shot out and grasped hers, held, while her legs banged against the wood.

"I've got you. Hold on!" he commanded, holding out his other hand. "Here, grab hold! I won't let you fall."

Grasping his hand, she stared into eyes that were a deep, dark brown, intense and mesmerizing. He pulled her up into the loft almost effortlessly. She lay there, her heart thumping and her breath shallow.

"I'm sorry I scared you," he said. His face loomed over her."I must have fallen asleep up here. Are you all right?"

An Englischer. Dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, he wore his sandy brown hair quite short. She'd never seen him in these parts. Her heart rate, already fast from the near fall to the barn floor, beat faster.

"Who are you?" she stammered. "What are you doing here?"

Before he could answer, he heard someone enter the barn.

"Hannah!"

She dragged her gaze away from the man's eyes. Matthew!

Chris felt his heart jump into his throat when he heard the male voice. He muttered a curse. All he needed was some angry husband or boyfriend.

The woman sat up. "I'm up here!"

She brushed the hay from her clothes and began climbing down the ladder, moving slowly and carefully.

"What were you doing in the loft?" he called up.

She glanced up at Chris and bit her lip, then resumed descending the rungs.

With a deep sigh, Chris pulled on his backpack and moved to the edge of the loft.

He heard an exclamation he couldn't understand and the man thundered, "Who are you?" He picked up a rake and strode toward the loft ladder.

Chris looked down. "Chris. Chris Matlock. I'm coming down."

He'd had a gun shoved in his face more than once, had been trained to take on any enemy, and had held his own. He could face one stern-looking Amish man with murder on his mind.

Well, maybe not murder, Chris acknowledged as he glanced now and then over his shoulder as he descended the rungs of the ladder. The Amish were known for their peaceful manner and forgiving natures, weren't they?

He hoped what he'd heard was correct.

"Matthew! What are you doing?" the woman named Hannah cried out. Chris hesitated on the steps.

Turning, Chris jumped down the last two rungs and held his arms in the air. But instead of reassuring Matthew,