"Do you not? Sorry. Forget I asked that."

"I don't mind answering," Tricia said softly. "If you want to hear."

"I do. Of course I do."

Tricia looked pleased. Or maybe it was more like grateful? "Back at home, I had trouble with some girls. One made up a story about me and everyone wanted to believe it. I had to get away, so I came down here to see Aunt Beverly without an invitation." Looking away, she added, "Actually, she didn't even know I was coming. But I had complete faith that I'd find her and she'd take me in. And she did. So maybe I do believe in them after all. Do you?"

"I haven't for a long time. But lately, it feels as if everything is coming together for me." Not comfortable with sharing her past or discussing her feelings about Michael, she said, "Some things have happened to make me and my family wary about most things. But the evening Michael and his family spoke, something made me decide to make a change. And once I did that, it set a lot of other things in motion."

Tricia looked at her in wonder. "Do you think that's all it takes? That each of us needs to have the presence of mind to make that first step, even when we aren't sure where it leads us?"

"I don't know. I'll let you know a year from now when I can look back on how things turned out."

Tricia grinned. "Let's make a promise, then. In one year, we'll write each other and say if we thought it was gut that we went down that path. Or if it had been a bad mistake."

"That's a deal." She was about to add something more, but Beverly stood up just then and motioned them closer.

"Girls, the doktah is coming."

Penny rushed to Beverly's side just as the doctor was introducing himself.

"How is he?" Penny blurted, unable to wait another moment.

"Michael is in recovery, so he's a bit groggy," he said around a smile. "But when he's more himself, I'm going to tell him the same thing I am telling all of you. The surgery went well."

"Oh, praise G.o.d," Beverly said.

Penny sighed in relief as the surgeon continued. "We repaired the scar tissue that had gotten a bit aggravated during the last month and found the source of that infection. We cleaned that area well, too. He's going to be just fine."

"This is such wonderful-gut news," Beverly said. "Michael is such a nice man. I've been hoping and praying that you wouldn't find anything unexpected." Looking at the four of them, she grimaced. "I'm embarra.s.sed to say that at times I was afraid that you would have worse news for us."

The surgeon's expression turned serious. "The worst of it was seeing the damage done to his limb. He made a bad decision ignoring his pain for so long. If he'd simply told his family and made an appointment, everything could have probably been taken care of in an office visit."

Beverly nodded. "I'll be sure and share that with his family."

The doctor grinned. "I'll be telling him my feelings about that, too. I know he likes to think he is invincible, but none of us are. The Lord expects us to take care of ourselves to the best of our ability."

"Those are words to take to heart," Eric murmured.

"Is there anything else, Doctor?"

"Just be sure and let Michael's family know that they can call me if they have questions, though I doubt they'll need to. Michael asked me quite a few questions before we put him under anesthesia. He might not always take care of his leg, but he knows its limitations well."

"What happens now?" Eric asked.

"As I said, he's in recovery. When he's feeling a little less woozy, we'll put him in a room and keep him overnight. Unless something unexpected happens, he'll be able to leave around noon tomorrow."

Penny smiled at Tricia. "That's wonderbaar. I thought he might be here for days and days."

The surgeon shook his head. "These days, we send folks home as soon as we can. People like being in their own beds. Now, who is Penny?"

She was so surprised, she held up a hand. "I am."

"Would you mind coming with me? Michael has been asking for you." He smiled to himself. "He's asked for you so many times, the nurses decided it would be a good idea for you to keep him company for a spell."

"Are you sure he asked to see me?"

Behind her Tricia giggled. "He's sure, Penny."

And the surgeon nodded. "I'm very sure. Come along now."

She took a step forward but looked over her shoulder as she did. "Do you think this is all right, Miss Beverly?"

She was wearing the same amused expression as Tricia. "I think it's more than all right, Penny. If he's asking to see you, I think that's a mighty gut sign. You go on ahead. I need to call Michael's parents, anyway."

"All right then." Steeling her shoulders, she followed the doctor through the big set of automatic doors and realized that her conversation with Tricia had been perfectly true. One never did know what the future had in store.

Or what miracles were about to take place in their midst.

CHAPTER 17.

Feeling awkward, Penny followed the doctor down a wide hallway filled with all sorts of metal carts and empty gurneys, as well as several orderlies and nurses who were standing next to complicated-looking equipment. More than one nurse looked up as they pa.s.sed, greeting the surgeon and sending an encouraging smile Penny's way.

After turning a corner, the doctor pulled back a white curtain. "Here we are, Penny. Why don't you take a seat. Michael looks like he's drifted back to sleep, but he should be waking up again in a few minutes."

Before she could ask any questions, Penny was alone with Michael. She was secretly pleased he wasn't staring at her at the moment because she needed some time to settle down. The patients, the carts, the smells, the tubes, and machines and noise . . . it had all been a little frightening. Furthermore, she was still trying to figure out why Michael had asked for her. Had he, too, sensed that something important was happening between the two of them?

Or was he simply asking for her because he had no one else to turn to?

These questions spun in her head as she crossed the room to his side, each step feeling like a huge distance instead of mere inches. When she got to the side of his bed, he opened his eyes.

"Hi," she said, wishing she had some interesting comment or amusing quip to utter. But seeing him in the hospital bed, surrounded by machines and attached to wires and cords, that one word was the best she could come up with.

His eyes warmed. Seconds later, his lips turned up in a smile.

That small response was all she needed to pull over one of the hard plastic chairs that lined the wall. And when he reached for her hand, she held his.

Then it became a matter of simply following directions: When the nurses asked her to step back into the waiting room so he could leave recovery and get settled into a regular room, she returned to Beverly's side.

An hour later, a nurse came to get her again.

As she stood up, Beverly told her that she and Eric were going back to the inn and to call when she needed to be picked up.

Penny nodded, though she was already thinking about Michael. This time, she accompanied a nurse into the elevator, down a long hallway on the third floor, and at last to a doorway on the right. When she peeked inside, Michael looked much better. He was sitting up and sipping on juice, and he stared at the door as it opened.

"Here you are. I was wondering if someone had forgotten to bring you." His lips twitched, as if he were thinking about a secret joke. "Or that maybe you had left."

"I wouldn't have left without telling you," she said in a rush.

Then she realized he'd been teasing. "You shouldn't tease me, you know. I've been worried about you. I'm glad the surgery went okay."

"Sorry," he said quickly as much of the humor lighting his eyes fled. "You were worried about me?"

"Of course I was." Unable to help herself, she leaned close. "Michael, how are you? Are you in much pain?"

He held up a hand, which was decorated with tape and gauze and an intravenous tube. "These tubes are taking care of the worst of it."

"I'm glad about that. The doctors said you did gut."

"They told me the same thing." He looked down at his right leg. "They seem to think I'll heal quickly. I hope so."

She looked around the room. "Where is your prosthesis?" She stumbled on the word, it was so unfamiliar, but she was glad she'd said the proper term.

"It's with a technician. They're going to adjust it or simply order me a new one."

"So, you'll be without it for a time."

A new, guarded look entered his eyes. "Will that make you uncomfortable?"

"Why would you think that?" She really had no idea what he was talking about.

"Some people can't handle looking at my leg like this." When she frowned, he said, "It, um, makes my disability seem more real, I think."

"But it's you," she protested. Furthermore, she didn't consider him disabled in the slightest.

Looking down at his lower thigh and knee, covered in bandages, he frowned. "It's imperfect."

"We are all imperfect, Michael." Gazing down at the part of the hospital bed where the lower portion of his leg would've been if he hadn't lost it, a variety of emotions filtered through her. But none of them had anything to do with feeling uncomfortable about him not having a right foot. "I don't understand how people would feel that way."

"It's unsettling. And weak, I suppose. Men like to feel as if they can handle anything. A man with only a leg and a half? Well, it shows that I am not invincible."

"I'm not either." Because she was a woman, because she supposed most men would laugh at her bravado, she lifted her chin, practically daring him to make fun of her.

"You are strong, though."

"Not as strong as I'd like to be, but I'm getting stronger every day."

"Penny, I thought a lot about your sister last night when I was trying to go to sleep. I thought about her this morning when I was waiting for surgery, too."

"I appreciate that, but you should have been thinking about yourself."

"I hope you know that I am sorry for your loss," he said, basically ignoring her protest.

"Danke. But, if you don't mind, can we talk of something else? I mean, we've already spoken of Lissy."

"That we did. Well, since you're stuck here with me, want to play cards?"

That was definitely not what she'd expected to hear. "You feel that well?"

"I think so. If I'm not, I guess we'll find that out," he said. "Do you know any card games?"

"A couple."

"Are you any good at them?"

Enjoying their lighthearted banter, she teased, "It depends what game you want to play."

"Uno?"

"I doubt there are any Uno cards around." She glanced at the deck of cards on his nightstand. "Gin rummy?"

"You know how to play that?"

"I do." She hoped she looked more humble than she felt. She was actually very good at cards.

He waved a hand. "Uh-oh. You picked the wrong game, Penny."

"Is that right?"

"Absolutely. Because it just so happens that I'm the gin rummy champion of my family." He waggled his eyebrows.

She had a hard time not laughing. "That's just as I suspected. You have not an ounce of modesty."

"It's not bragging if it's the truth."

"You're not being modest if you are bringing your accolades up in conversation."

He smiled, making little fans form at the corners of his eyes. "I knew asking you to be here was a good idea, Penny. I've hardly felt any pain the last couple of minutes."

"Glad I could help." Meeting his gaze, she smiled back at him. Part of her wanted to tell him that his company was just as beneficial to her.

It was ironic, but when she was with him, she felt more like herself. The more they got to know each other, the more she relaxed. So much so, she was beginning to feel as if she'd only discovered who she was once she was in his company.

Leaning over, she grabbed the deck of cards and started shuffling them. "Because you are slightly out of it, I'm going to give you a break."

"How so?"

"I'm shuffling, dealing, and keeping score."

An eyebrow rose. "That's it?"