Peace Read Free Page B

inside.
    And she certainly did need to.
    In one of her hands was a sewing kit. In the other was a bottle of rubbing alcohol, a clean washcloth, and a couple of bandages. It was a pitiful attempt to provide adequate medical care.
    However, she’d promised him that she’d do her best to tend to his needs. If she could gather her courage.
    She was pacing outside the door again when she heard Chris moan. She needed no further encouragement to at last turn the door’s handle and walk in.
    He raised his head when the door opened, and his eyes were bleary as he watched her walk toward him. “Beth?”
    â€œ Jah , it is me. I’m here to try to help you.” Yes, try was the operative word here. Crossing the room, she closed the open blind, taking a peek out the window as she did. Snow lay on the ground and more snow was expected by nightfall. Next, she turned on the kerosene light by his bed and studied him again.
    Truthfully, he looked no different, except his feet were now bare.
    That set her to action. She walked to the bathroom next to his room, poured water into the bowl she’d brought upstairs, then added a liberal amount of alcohol to the water. Then she soaked the washcloth before finally returning to his side with the bowl in her hands.
    After getting settled, she carefully placed her palm on his forehead. He seemed feverish so she pushed aside the quilt that had covered him, trying to give him some fresh air.
    He winced. “I think I might have ruined the quilt.”
    â€œIt doesn’t matter.”
    â€œFrannie might think so.”
    â€œI’ll worry about Fannie,” she said crisply.
    Examining his bloodstained arm and the shirt that seemed determined to adhere to his skin like glue, she felt a fresh wave of pity toward him. He really was in poor shape.
    But even under the revulsion she felt toward the cuts and blood and dirt that covered his body, he was still attractive to her.
    Which, unfortunately, had been the case from the moment they met. There had been something almost tangible between the two of them that she’d never felt with anyone else.
    And though he’d never said anything, she was sure Chris had felt that same way. Before, he’d been the strong one. He’d told her no good could come of a relationship between them.
    Perhaps he’d been right. Now she needed to be the strong one. She needed to help him recover, offer him shelter, then send him on his way.
    As if doing that would be easy for her.
    What she needed to do was imagine him as one of the children she watched over. Yes, that was it! She could try to think of him not as Chris Ellis, but as four-year-old Robbie Yoder.
    The washcloth was cooling, which made her stop her musings and get to work. That was what needed to be done.
    Glancing at Chris’s face, she saw his eyes close again and she spoke. “I’m going to undress you now.”
    Eyelids popped open. “What did you say?”
    She was sure her face was now beet red. “I mean, your shirt. I need to take off your shirt. To help doctor you.”
    With a wince and a stifled groan, he sat up, then began releasing the buttons himself.
    Feeling more helpless than ever, she watched him struggle. Little by little, one button was freed. Then two.
    Her hands itched to take control. Yet again she wished that he was far younger, more like the children she babysat. She wished he had baby-soft skin instead of hard muscles. Wished he looked at her with wide-eyed innocence instead of with a barely hidden heat that she didn’t quite understand.
    Then she could be in control.
    But things were far different with a man like him. He was used to being the strong one. Used to being the protector. She could only imagine how he was handling being so helpless.
    At last, his shirt lay open. Exhausted, his hands went limp by his sides.
    She took charge and began carefully pulling the blood-soaked cotton away from his shoulders.