A Time to Love Read Free

move. Phoebe held out her hand, work-worn, dry, and warm.
    Jenny shook her head. "I don't want to hurt you."
    "I'm stronger than I look. I lead a simple life, but I work hard. You remember from the two summers you came to visit."
    Jenny nodded. It had been one reason she had told her father she didn't want to go back. She wanted to stay home, be with her friends and have fun, not work so hard harvesting summer crops and baking bread and scrubbing the kitchen.
    And laundry. It was bad enough to have to scoop dirty clothes up and throw them into the washer and dryer back home. At her grandmother's house, laundry was a daylong chore. Who wanted that?
    Instead of television there had been singing, and the songs weren't the latest pop hits—no, these were church hymns! It was such a drag, too, to hitch up a buggy instead of jumping into the car and having Dad drive her someplace.
    Later, as she'd grown older, she'd regretted her youthful laziness, but it was too late then to visit. She was immersed in college, an internship at a TV station, and then her demanding job that took her everywhere but Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.
    Her grandmother was older, a little more bent, but the bright light in her eyes was still there, reminding Jenny of the bird she was named after. And her spare frame looked strong beneath the simple dress and sparkling white apron she wore.
    The medication had worn off long ago. Jenny wanted to just sink back into bed, but she couldn't. She needed to get moving. She saw Phoebe glance down and a quiet gasp escaped from her lips.
    The pant leg of her sweats had ridden up as she moved to the edge of the bed and stood. The light faded from Phoebe's eyes as she glimpsed the scars that ran down the length of one.
    Bending, Jenny pulled the leg of her sweats down to cover them.
    "I didn't want to move you too much when we put you to bed," she told Jenny. "So I left your clothes on you." She cocked her head to one side. "Is that what the Englisch are wearing these days?"
    "When they want something comfortable to relax in," Jenny told her with a grin.
    With one hand, she pulled the tunic down over her hips and smoothed its wrinkles.
    "Let's get you some breakfast and then you can take a bath and get fresh clothes on."
    "Sounds wonderful."
    Walking to the kitchen was a major obstacle. Jenny insisted that she needed to walk without her grandmother's help and took the short journey slowly.
    "I can't believe David carried me into the house."
    "He didn't," said Phoebe, following a step behind.
    Jenny stopped and turned to look at Phoebe. "You didn't."
    Again there was a ghost of a smile on Phoebe's face. " Nee. It was Matthew."
    Images flitted through Jenny's mind as she started to navigate the way again. She remembered strong male arms, a deep voice that had sounded comforting when she'd sleepily insisted she could walk.
    "Matthew?" she repeated. There was something about that name, but she couldn't quite remember . . . one of the lingering effects of the head injury.
    "He lives on the farm next to mine. He came to see if I needed any help."
    "And I'm sure David was grateful for his help." She laughed."David is a nice man, but he doesn't lift anything heavier than his wallet."
    Wallet. Jenny frowned as she thought about what was going to happen to hers. The network was covering her salary, but how long would it do that? Disability payments would be less whenever they started. She didn't want to dip into her savings, but she knew it might be months before she could go back to work.
    And who knew if she'd ever be able to do the overseas reporting she'd become known for?
     

     
    Her grandmother's kitchen hadn't changed. There were simple counters and wooden cupboards, practical pottery bowls set on a shelf. A propane stove filled the room with warmth, and the scent coming from its oven promised something delicious would emerge soon. A hand-carved wooden table was big enough to seat an army. Jenny sank into one of its