Every question he asked, every answer she gave would add a layer to that connection he wanted to avoid.
“Finished?” she asked, coming to her feet.
He was surprised to see his cup was empty. He didn’t recall drinking the kaffi. His mind wasn’t working well.
She took the cup and threw it and her own into a trash can. Coming back, she reached to unlock the chair’s brakes.
For a split second, he wondered when she’d set them in place. The sweet aroma of her shampoo drifted to him, and he was tossed back to the moment when she’d helped him in the paddock. Having her holding him close had been enough for him to forget how much his foot hurt. The memory swept over him, diminishing the pain faster than any drug could.
Had he lost his mind? Thinking such things threatened his promise never to get close to anyone again. He needed to be careful. He had to remember how his heart had hurt each time he’d had to leave gut friends behind, knowing he’d never see them again. To be honest, somewhere along the way, he’d lost the key to his padlocked heart. He told himself it was for the best. How did he know he wouldn’t start acting like his parents, leaving without looking back?
Sarah straightened. “Are you okay? Maybe you should take another pain tablet so it’s working by the time the car gets here.”
“I’m fine.”
“Gut.” She bowed her head for a moment.
He thought her prayer would be silent, but she whispered, “God, danki for making sure Toby wasn’t hurt worse. Please send him quick healing. You know his heart far better than I do, but I don’t think he’s a patient man.”
Gnawing on his bottom lip, he remained silent. He pretended not to see her questioning glance in his direction. He didn’t want to explain he and God had an arrangement that had worked most of his life. Toby wouldn’t expect anything of God, and God wouldn’t expect anything of him. Knowing that had eased Toby’s sorrow each time his parents decided to move.
That was why a faint twinge deep in his heart astounded him. A twinge of longing? For what? To be close to God, who had given Toby a life of chaos and loss? He couldn’t see a reason to reach out to his Heavenly Father. He’d learned to get by on his own.
“Would you like to pray with me?” Sarah asked.
“Not right now. We need to hurry. I don’t want to delay J.J. more than I already have.”
She sat facing him again. “Don’t you remember? He’s left.”
“What?” This time he didn’t care that his raised voice caught the attention of everyone in the snack room. “How do you know that?”
“I found out when I called for our ride home.”
“When were you planning to tell me that little tidbit?”
“I told you while I was wheeling you here.”
He started to argue that she hadn’t, then recalled how pain had stripped his mind of everything. She had to be wrong. J.J. wouldn’t go without him.
When he said as much, she shook her head. “I asked for confirmation when I called, and I was told to tell you that he and Ned would—”
“Ned left, too? Who’s going to help get the horses settled?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s all your boss said. They’ll return in a couple of months to get you.”
“A couple of months?” He closed his eyes as waves of pain flooded him, waves he’d tried to ignore. Opening his eyes, he met Sarah’s. “What am I supposed to do until then?”
“Heal.”
“Where?”
“I told you. Mr. Summerhays has taken care of everything. There’s a guest room on the first floor near the kitchen. You can recover there.”
He forced his frustration down. If he’d been thinking straight, he would have known J.J. couldn’t stay while Toby went to the hospital. Their schedule was tight, and delaying one place meant upsetting many valuable customers they hoped would give them more work.
Was this the answer to his problem on how to protect Sarah from Ned’s machinations? He hadn’t guessed it’d be for him to have a sprained ankle and be as helpless as a boppli.
“I guess I don’t have another choice.” His voice sounded childish even to his ears. “I’m sorry, Sarah. I—”
“Never mind. We need to be out front for when the car gets here, so let’s go,” she said with something that sounded like disappointment.
Disappointment? With him?
If so, she would have to get used to that during the next eight weeks. He’d disappointed everyone in his life.
Including himself.
The second annual Salem Volunteer Fire Department Berry-fest Dinner was well underway by the time Sarah arrived at the new fire station. Parked out front were the big fire engines and the ambulance that had taken Toby to the hospital earlier that day.
That day? To Sarah, it seemed impossible only a few hours had passed since Natalie had come to alert her that a cowboy was on the porch.
After a quiet drive home from the hospital in Mr. Summerhays’s luxurious truck, Sarah had been relieved when, as they came into the house, her boss had offered to help get Toby, who was reeling from his pain medication, into the guest room on the main floor. She’d agreed to come early the next day so Mr. Summerhays could finish work he’d had to ignore that afternoon. When he asked her to arrange for Toby’s physical therapist’s first visit, she realized her boss had added the Texan to her list of responsibilities.
She looked forward to talking with a trained physical therapist, but she wasn’t sure how Toby would feel about her involvement.
As she opened the door into the firehouse, she pushed that concern aside. She was attending the festive dinner with her friends, and she didn’t want her mind mired in thoughts of the injured man.
Inside the new fire station, which had been dedicated the previous year, tables were set end to end in three rows. Folding chairs were occupied by neighbors who were enjoying barbecued chicken and salads before the volunteer firefighters served them generous slabs of berry pie. A kitchen could be seen beyond a wide pass-through window where urns held kaffi and rows of cups of lemonade and iced tea waited to be claimed. Faint strains of country music came from a speaker in one corner, but it was drowned out by the dozens of conversations in the open space.
A few months ago, heads would have turned when Sarah and her three best friends walked in. However, the residents of the small village had become accustomed to their new plain neighbors among them.
She wondered what the reaction would be if they learned Sarah’s friends had jokingly named themselves the Harmony Creek Spinsters’ Club. They were too old to belong to a youth group but weren’t married, so they didn’t fit in anywhere except with each other. As a group, they enjoyed shopping in the village or attending events like the Berry-fest Dinner.
“Where do you want to sit?” asked Annie Wagler, the more talkative of the Wagler twins. She and her sister, Leanna, were at least two inches shorter than Sarah. Their lustrous black hair glowed with a bluish sheen in the station’s bright lights.
“Do you see four chairs together?” Sarah scanned the room, seeing many familiar faces. People she’d met in the village as well as those living in the new settlement along Harmony