A Time To Heal (25 page)

Q:
What inspired you to create the Quilts of Lancaster County series?

Barbara:
I have loved learning about the Amish since I took a trip to Lancaster County years ago. They inspire me with their desire for a deeply spiritual, simple way of life. For the Quilts series, I wanted to explore how a young woman who was in love with the life and with a young man could adapt to that life after a devastating injury that affects her belief in God.

Q:
Is there anything specific about the titles you chose?

Barbara:
I wish I could take credit for the titles. My wonderful editor, Barbara Scott, read the first manuscript and saw that I mentioned Ecclesiastes (“a time to love, a time to …”) and wanted to change my titles. She was very sweet in her e-mail, saying sometimes authors get attached to their titles. Well, we do sometimes but not when someone else comes up with something so much better! Then she said the editorial committee discussed how quilts were used in the book (Jenny wakes in the hospital covered by a quilt made by her grandmother).Barbara said each of them had memories of quilts—even the sole male committee member—and it felt like everything fell into place.

Q:
How much research did this series take?

Barbara:
Tons! I wanted to make certain that I caught the way of life, the search for a deeper meaning to life, not just the focus on ourselves and the endless search it seems the
Englisch,
as the Amish call us, seem to have for things. In my research, I met an Old Order Amish woman who would graciously agree to read my work. I wanted to make sure I didn't offend the Amish, or make a mistake—readers who like Amish fiction know a lot about them. When she called to tell me that it was obvious I loved the Amish, that she had enjoyed the first story I sent her, I sat down and cried. I felt like I'd done the job I hoped to do.

Q:
What elements do you think readers will find they can relate to even if they're not familiar with the Amish culture?

Barbara:
Reading is a very individual experience so there may be different things that resonate for different readers. One thing I know for certain is that I have found it easier to trust God's will, something the Amish feel is an important part of their spiritual life.

Q:
How do you as the author connect with the characters in the series?

Barbara:
I didn't base Jenny on me, but I was able to use my experiences with wondering what God wanted me to do with my life when I experienced a big change in it. And oh, did I ever relate to her struggles with physical therapy because I'd had an injury the year before and dealt with it. I also loved to write about the children in the story as they grow and become even more dear to Jenny and the family.

Q:
Do your characters begin to take on a life of their own as you write?

Barbara:
They sure do! My daughter came home from school one day to find me sitting and crying at my computer. I told her that so-and-so had died. She said she didn't know I had a friend with that name. It was a character. (I can't tell you the name of the character—spoiler alert!)

Q:
Can you give us a teaser as to what we can expect in the future?

Barbara:
There are three books in the Quilts series but who knows … maybe there will be more. And my editor has also bought Stitches in Time, a three-book Amish series (one of the books is set in an unusual location …).

Q:
What message would you like your readers to take away from
A Time to Heal?

Barbara:
Maybe the first and most important is that there is always hope—hope that we will grow even closer to God through any time we experience when we feel alone with a challenge. And we never know when and where we may find love.

Want to learn more about author
Barbara Cameron and check out other great fiction
from Abingdon Press?

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Be sure to visit Barbara Cameron online!

www.BarbaraCameron.com
www.AmishHearts.com
www.AmishLiving.com

If you missed the first book of
the heartwarming Quilts of Lancaster County series,
enjoy this excerpt from
A Time to Love

J
enny woke from a half-doze as the SUV slowed to approach a four-way stop.

“No!” she cried. “Don't stop!”

“I have to stop.”

“No!” she yelled as she lunged to grab at the steering wheel.

David smacked her hands away with one hand and steered with the other. The vehicle swerved and horns blared as he fought to stop. “We're in the States!” he shouted. “Stop it!”

Jenny covered her head and waited for the explosion. When it didn't come, she cautiously brought her arms down to look over at David.

“We're in the U.S.,” he repeated quietly. “Calm down. You're safe.”

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,” she whispered. Covering her face, she turned away from him and wished she could crawl into a hole somewhere and hide.

He touched her shoulder. “It's okay. I understand.”

Before he could move the SUV forward, they heard a siren.The sound brought Jenny's head up, and she glanced back fearfully to see a police car.

“Pull over!” a voice commanded through the vehicle's loudspeaker.

Cursing beneath his breath, David guided the SUV to the side of the road. He reached for his wallet, pulling out his driver's license.

A police officer appeared at David's window and looked in. Jenny tried not to flinch as he looked at David, then her.“Driver's license and registration, please.”

David handed them over. “Officer, I'd like to explain—”

“Stay in your vehicle. I'll be right back,” he was told brusquely.

When the officer returned, he handed back the identification.“Okay, so you want to explain what that was all about —how you started to run the stop sign and nearly caused an accident?”

“It's my fault,” Jenny spoke up.

“Jenny! I—”

“Let her talk.”

“You can't stop at a four-way,” she told him in a dull voice.“You could get killed.” She drew a quilt more tightly around her shoulders.

“You look familiar,” the officer said, studying her face for a long moment. “Now I got it. You're that TV reporter, the one who was reporting from overseas, in the war zone—” he stopped. “Oh.”

He glanced at David. “And you're that network news anchor.What are you doing in these parts?”

“Taking her to recuperate at her family's house.”

The officer glanced back at Jenny. “Didn't know you were Amish. Thought they didn't believe in television.”

Jenny fingered the quilt. “It's my grandmother,” she said, staring ahead. “She's the one who's Amish.”

She met the officer's gaze. “Please don't give David a ticket.It was my fault. I freaked and grabbed the steering wheel. I didn't want him to stop. But it won't happen again.”

The officer hesitated then nodded as he touched the brim of his hat. “I have friends who've been through the same thing.Be careful. You've been through enough without getting into a car accident.”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

After returning to his patrol car, the officer pulled out on the road and waved as he passed them.

Jenny looked at David. “I'm sorry. I just had a flashback as I woke up, I guess.”

“It's okay,” he told her patiently. “I understand.”

She sighed and felt herself retreating into her cocoon.

He glanced in his rearview mirror and got back onto the road. They drove for a few minutes.

“Hungry yet?”

She shook her head and then winced at the pain. “No.”

“You need to eat.”

“Not hungry.” Then she glanced at him. “I'm sorry. You must be.”

He grinned. “Are you remembering that you used to tease me about being hungry all the time?”

“Not really,” she said. “Lucky guess, since we've been on the road for hours.”

He frowned but said nothing as he drove. A little while later, he pulled into a restaurant parking lot, shut off the engine, and undid his seat belt. “It'll be good to stretch my legs. C'mon, let's go in and get us a hot meal and some coffee.”

“I don't—”

“Please?” he asked quietly.

“I look awful.”

“You look fine.” He put his hand on hers. “Really. Let's go in.”

Pulling down the visor, she stared into the mirror, and her eyes immediately went to the long scar near her left ear. It still looked red and raw against her too-pale skin. The doctor had said it would fade with time until she'd barely notice it. Later she could wear extra-concealing makeup, but not now, he'd cautioned. The skin needed to heal without makeup being rubbed into it.

“Jenny?”

She looked at him, really looked at him. Though he was smiling at her, there were lines of strain around his mouth, worry in his eyes. He looked so tired too.

“Okay.” With a sigh, she loosened her hold on the quilt and rewrapped her muffler higher and tighter around her neck.Buttoning her coat, she drew her hat down and turned to reach for the door handle.

David was already there, offering Jenny her cane and a helping hand. When she tried to let go of his hand, he tightened his.

“The pavement's icy. Let me help,” he said. “Remember, 'Pride goeth before a fall.' ”

Her eyes widened with amusement as she grinned. “
You're
quoting Scripture? What is the world coming to?”

“Must be the environment,” he said, glancing around. Then his gaze focused on her. “It's good to see you smile.”

“I haven't had a lot to smile about lately.”

His eyes were kind. “No. But you're here. And if I said 'thank God,' you wouldn't make a smart remark, would you?”

She thought about waking up in the hospital wrapped in her grandmother's quilt and the long days of physical therapy since then. Leaning on the cane, her other hand in David's, she started walking slowly, and her hip screamed in pain with every step. Days like today she felt like she was a hundred instead of in her early thirties.

“No,” she said, sighing again. “I think the days of smart remarks are over.”

The diner was warm, and Jenny was grateful to see that there were few customers. A sign invited them to seat themselves, and she sank into the padded booth just far enough from the front door that the cold wind wouldn't blow on them.

“Coffee for you folks?” asked the waitress who appeared almost immediately with menus. She turned over their cups and filled them when they nodded. “Looks like we're gonna get some snow tonight.”

“What are you going to have?” David asked.

Jenny lifted her coffee cup but her hand trembled, spilling hot coffee on it. Wincing, she set the cup down quickly and grabbed a napkin to wipe her hand dry.

David got up and returned with a glass of ice water. He dipped his napkin in it and wrapped the cold, wet cloth around her reddened hand. “Better?”

Near tears, she nodded.

“She filled it too full,” he reassured her.

Reaching for an extra cup on the table, he poured half of her coffee into it. “Try it now.”

Jenny didn't want the coffee now, but he was trying so hard to help, she felt ungrateful not to drink it.

“Better?”

She nodded, wincing again.

“Time for some more meds, don't you think?”

“The pain killers make me fuzzy. I don't like to take them.”

“You still need them.”

Sighing, she took out the bottle, shook out the dosage, and swallowed the capsules with a sip of water.

“So, what would you like to eat?” asked the waitress.

Jenny looked at David.

“She'll have two eggs over easy, bacon, waffles, and a large glass of orange juice,” he said. “I'll have the three-egg omelet, country ham, hash browns, and biscuits. Oh, and don't forget the honey, honey.”

The waitress grinned. Then she cocked her head to one side. “Say, you look like that guy on TV.”

David just returned her grin. “Yeah, so I'm told. That and a dollar'll get me a cup of coffee.”

She laughed and went to place their order.

Growing warm, Jenny shed her coat and the muffler. She sipped at the coffee and felt warmer. When the food came, she bent her head and said a silent prayer of thanks. Then she watched David begin shoveling in food as if he hadn't eaten in days, rather than hours.

She lifted her fork and tried to eat. “I like my eggs over easy?”

He frowned and stopped eating. “Yeah. Do you want me to send them back, get them scrambled or something?”

“No. This is okay.”

“How did you eat them at the hospital?”

She shrugged. “However they brought them.”

Deciding she might have liked eggs over easy in the past but now they looked kind of disgusting, half raw and runny on the plate, she looked at the waffle.

“I like waffles?”

“Love them.”

Butter oozed over the top and the syrup was warm. She took a bite. It was heaven, crispy on the outside, warm and fluffy on the inside. The maple syrup was sweet and thick.Bliss. She ate the whole thing and a piece of bacon too.

“Good girl,” David said approvingly.

“Don't talk to me like I'm a kid,” she told him, frowning.“Even if I feel like it.”

He reached over and took her free hand. “I'm so proud of you. You've learned to walk again, talk again.”

“I'm not all the way back yet,” she said. “I still have memory holes and problems getting the right word out and headaches and double vision now and then. I have a long road ahead of me.”

David looked out the window. “Speaking of roads … as much as I hate to say it, I guess we should get back on it as soon as we can.”

Jenny turned to where David was looking and watched as an Amish horse-drawn buggy passed by slowly. The man who held the reins glanced over just then and their eyes met. Then he was looking ahead as a car passed in the other lane, and the contact was broken.

He looks familiar,
she thought …
so familiar.
She struggled to remember.

David turned and got the waitress's attention. As she handed him the check, she noticed Jenny, who immediately looked down at her hands in her lap.

“Why, you're that reporter, the one who—”

“Has to get going,” David interjected. “She needs to get some rest.”

“Oh, sure. Sorry.”

She tore a sheet from her order pad and handed it to Jenny with a pen. “Could you give me an autograph while I go ring this up?”

She hurried off, sure that her request would be honored.

“Could you sign it for me?” Jenny asked David.

Nodding, he took the paper and quickly scrawled her signature, then added his in a bold flourish.

“Here you go, two for one,” he told the waitress when she returned. He tucked a bill under his plate and got up to help Jenny with her coat.

The SUV seemed a million miles away, but she made it with his help. Once inside, she sank into the seat, pulled the quilt around her again, and fastened her seat belt.

“It'll take just a minute to get warm in here,” David told her.

Jenny stroked her hand over the quilt. “I'm not cold… . I hate those pills,” she muttered and felt her eyelids drooping.“Making me sleepy. The waffles … lots of carbons.”

She opened her eyes when he chuckled. Blinking, she tried to think what could be so funny.

“Carbs,” she corrected herself carefully after a moment, frustrated at the way the brain injury had affected her speech.“Lots of carbs. Don't think I used to eat lots of carbs.”

“So take a nap,” he told her. “You talk too much anyway.“He grinned to prove he was teasing.

Smiling, she tried to think of a snappy comeback. They were always so easy for her, especially with David. But then she was falling into a dreamless sleep.

Sometime later, she woke when she felt the vehicle stop.“Are we there?”

“Stay here,” she heard David say, then she heard his door open and felt the brief influx of cold air before it closed. She couldn't seem to wake up, as if her eyes were stuck shut. The door on her side opened, and she heard the click of her seat belt, felt arms lift her.

“I can walk,” she muttered.

He said something she couldn't quite grasp, but his voice was warm and deep and so soothing that she relaxed and let him carry her. And then she was being laid on a soft bed, covers tucked around her.

Home,
she thought,
I'm home.
She smiled and sank deeper in dreamless sleep.