Chapter 14
14
Hardy Anderson’s knit shirt looked ridiculous on her. It was also far too big and in danger of showing more of herself than she ever wanted Hardy to see—and especially not under the bright fluorescent light. She looked pale and small and awkward.
She sincerely hoped that no one else would ever find out what she was about to do.
But first she actually had to do it.
Feeling like she might as well treat the moment like the proverbial ripping off a Band-Aid, she opened the door. “I’m ready now.” She looked down at the floor. Bracing herself to feel Hardy’s eyes skim over all her bare skin.
“Finally,” he said.
She lifted her chin. “What?”
“Nothing. Except that it took you long enough. I had recruits undress, shower, and get dressed again in less time than it took you to put on that shirt,” he said as he bent down and opened a cabinet door.
“I canna believe that you’re criticizing me.”
“I’m not criticizing you. All I’m doing is pointing out that we’re on a time crunch here. You took your time.”
“I did not.” When he raised his eyebrows, she harumphed. “Really. I wasn’t that bad. Plus, I’m injured.”
He smiled. “Exactly.”
Only then did she realize that he’d riled her up on purpose—just so she’d stop being so shy and let him see to her arm. It was a sweet thing to do.
But no way would she tell him that right now. “For someone who was supposedly so quick and fierce in the Army, you sure complain a lot.”
His eyes warmed. “Some might say I have a reason for that.” Putting the first aid box on the top of the toilet lid, he said, “It’s a little cramped in here, isn’t it?”
Since that was obvious but it was his choice to change her bandage there, she kept her mouth shut.
“Here. I’ve got an idea.”
Next thing she knew, he was picking her up and setting her on the counter. And before she could let him know that that was very inappropriate, he got out some small scissors from the kit and started to carefully remove the bandage. In some places the bandage stuck to her skin. It pinched. And, yes, it hurt too. She pursed her lips to keep from crying out.
He noticed. “You okay, honey?”
His hands were gentle. Far more tender than she would’ve believed he was capable of. “I’m okay.”
“Almost done now.” After tossing another portion of the soiled bandage in the trash, he frowned. “There’s just one more piece ... got it.”
Stephanie turned her head until she could see her wound in the mirror’s reflection. It was bigger than she’d imagined and caked with dried blood. It also looked a bit angry. Unable to help herself, she winced. “It doesn’t look too good.”
“No, it doesn’t, but your skin isn’t too warm. I don’t think an infection has settled in. Yet.”
“Yet?”
As if weighing his words, he paused before nodding. “I think it needs to be cleaned. Thoroughly.”
“Are you sure?” That sounded painful.
“I’m afraid so.” He ran a finger along the swollen skin. “I’m worried that it’s not clean enough. Bev told me that she did what she could, but that you two were in her Corolla and in a big hurry.”
“We were both really rattled.”
A muscle in his face twitched. “I should’ve checked it last night. I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize. I couldn’t have handled one more thing last night.”
Meeting her gaze in the reflection, he asked, “Will you trust me to help you?”
His question was so earnest, Stephanie almost laughed. So far, all she’d done was trust him. And there were so many things she’d trusted him for without any real reason to do so. Now, here he was, going above and beyond for her, yet still taking the time to ask her opinion. She didn’t have much experience with people in her life going to such great extents to see to her needs.
“Steph?”
He was still waiting. Her mouth went dry. “Jah, Hardy. I will trust you.”
Hardy seemed pleased as he turned on the faucet. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to get a bowl while the water heats.”
When he returned with a plastic bowl and two clean dishcloths, he studied her face. “Are you worried? I promise that I’ll be as gentle as I can.”
“No, it’s not that.”
“Then what’s going on?”
“Oh, I was just thinking about how trust is a funny thing. I ended up here because I trusted your sister. Even though she was a complete stranger.”
“Beverly is good people. You were right to trust her,” he added as he opened up a bottle that he’d placed in the bowl. After he poured a bit inside, he held the bowl under the faucet.
When the bowl was back on the counter, Stephanie said, “I’m glad I trusted Bev. It’s just that I don’t have a lot of people in my life who are willing to go to such great lengths for me.”
“I wish you did.” He dipped the corner of one of the cloths into the hot mixture.
“Me too. It just hit me that if I hadn’t trusted Bev, I would still be back in Adams County at my aunt and uncle’s house. I guess I’d be sitting at home right now wondering when that man was going to show up and being scared to death.”
“Would you have told your family?”
Feeling him brush the warm cloth on the area around her skin, she shook her head. “No.”
“Really?”
“They ... well, they would’ve found a way to twist it into my mistake. They would’ve reminded me that if I had stayed home, none of this would have happened.”
Dabbing at her arm, he frowned. “It doesn’t work that way. You can’t stay home round the clock because you don’t want anything bad to happen.”
“They believe something very different. At least in my case.” As she watched him continue to dip the cloth into the warm liquid and then dab at her wound, she tried to think of something else. Unfortunately, if she wasn’t thinking about the pain, she was thinking about Hardy.
Neither was helping her situation.
“Tell me about being Amish.”
Surprised, she looked his way. “What do you want to know?”
“Anything. I know some Amish around here but not well enough to be invited into their homes. How is your home different?”
That startled a laugh from her. “How is it not? First of all, there’s no electricity.”
“How do you cook?”
“Gas or propane. The haus is also far more plain inside than this cabin.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that there are few things on the walls. Far fewer tools in the kitchen. Far less of everything.”
“I guess your bedroom is pretty basic too.”
“You could say that.” No way was she going to describe her curtained area in the basement.
A look of regret filled his eyes. “You know what? I should apologize. I’m making it sound as if your home is somehow lacking because it doesn’t have a bunch of bells and whistles.” When she giggled, he stared. “What did I say that was funny?”
“Nothing. Not really. It’s just that I was thinking that an Amish house probably does have bells and whistles. It’s the television and radio and computers that we lack. Ain’t so?”
He chuckled under his breath. “I guess so.” He seemed to think about that for a while as he gently swabbed at her wound. His ministering hurt, and blood began to ooze from the opening.
Feeling a little sick, she looked away and stared at his face instead. Those hazel eyes. Not quite green, not quite brown.
She was mesmerized.
It might have been her imagination, but it seemed like he was giving equal attention to her expression and the wound.
He truly cared about her. He didn’t want to cause her pain.
“I think we’re good now.” He waved his hand over her arm, attempting to dry the area before reapplying a bandage. “Are you in a lot of pain? I can get you an ibuprofen.”
“I don’t need a pill. Just, um, to put back on my own clothes.”
“Oh. Of course.” Before she could tell him that she could hop off the counter unassisted, his hands were once again curved around her waist. Right after that, he was steadying her on her feet. “There you go.”
“Danke.” When he didn’t move, she cleared her throat. “I need you to leave, Hardy. So I can get changed.”
His eyes widened for a second before he seemed to regain his composure. “Sorry. Um, just leave everything out. When you’re done changing, I’ll go in there and clean up.”
“That isn’t necessary. I can do that.”
“Fine. What do you say we have that pizza now, before the sheriff arrives?”
“You may bake the pizza, Hardy.” Just to mess with him, she lifted her chin a bit. Hoping to appear a little bit princess-like.
He stilled, then his eyes warmed. “Your wish is my command, ma’am.”
When they shared a smile, Stephanie realized that something special had passed between them. Something pure and honest and good and real. It was sweet and reassuring and perfect.
She just wasn’t sure what that meant.