The Bridge of Peace

by Cindy Woodsmall

  “You’re not even up. This is a first.” Behind his smile, she saw concern. “Should I have left you alone?”

  “No.” She stretched. “It’s Second Christmas. I don’t want to miss a minute of it because I socialized too much on Christmas Day. Besides, I’m glad you woke me. I was caught in a frustrating dream.”

  Maybe the dream meant nothing … or maybe it was her own subconscious reminding her she had yet to give Grey her report about Ivan.

  “How long before you’re ready to go?”

  “Forty minutes, tops.”

  He started to close the door.

  “Daed.” Lena pushed back her quilt, feeling a little more like herself again. “Can we go a bit out of our way and stop by Grey’s before heading to Ada’s?”

  “Grey’s?”

  “I need to take him something.”

  “It can’t wait?”

  She slid into her housecoat. “Careful, Daed. Your need to get maximum time out of this rare invite by Ada is showing.”

  He chuckled. “It is, isn’t it?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll never tell her … as long as you take me by Grey’s first.”

  “Get ready as quick as you can, and we’ll go by there.”

  Lena hurried through a shower and dressing. Once fully ready, she knelt in front of her hope chest, opened the lid, and looked for the report she’d written. After Elsie had passed away, Lena tucked the papers in here, keeping them in the most private place of all. As her fingertips slid over quilts and kitchen utensils, she cringed at the fresh pangs of loneliness.

  Twenty-four years old and not even a prospect.

  She spotted the edge of the manila envelope and reached for it, but as she did, her tablet of children’s names called to her. The contrast between her reality and what she longed for stung. Ignoring the mounting sentiments, she grabbed the report and closed the lid to the chest.

  By the time she slid into her coat and went downstairs, her Daed had the carriage hitched. Nicky danced at the front door, clearly hoping to go with her again today. “Can you be good, even around Better Days?”

  Nicky sat, as if to assure Lena of her excellent behavior. A shiver of excitement about going, or maybe dread of staying behind, ran through her dog.

  “It wouldn’t be Christmas without you tagging along, now would it? Kumm.”

  Nicky ran to the carriage and waited. Lena locked the front door and hurried down the steps. She opened the door to the buggy, and Nicky jumped in first. “Daed, you’re in too big of a hurry. I didn’t feed Nicky or get a cup of coffee.”

  “I fed the dog, and”—he reached under the front seat and passed her a thermos—“I’d never let you go without coffee. You get too grumpy.”

  She giggled. Her faults were plenty—opinionated, stubborn, and too direct at times, to name a few—but getting grumpy wasn’t one of them, and he liked teasing her about that. She enjoyed his company, and he’d always been easy to live with. Her mother had adored him, and she wished he’d take a few steps toward finding someone again. “Ever thought of asking Ada out?”

  He tapped the reins against the horse’s back. “I … I talked to her about it once, a long time ago.”

  “She didn’t want to?”

  “It wasn’t that … at least I don’t think it was. See … Mahlon didn’t like the idea of his Mamm remarrying. She thought he needed her to stay single, and she was willing to do that for him, so I didn’t pursue her. Besides, I had plenty to keep me busy with a houseful of children.”

  “Ya, it kept all of us busy.” Lena opened the thermos. The aroma stung her nostrils. She put the lid on quickly. “How many scoops of coffee did you use?”

  “How many should I have used?”

  “Daed.” Lena clicked her tongue. “We’ve talked about this. Two scoops per pot.”

  “Then you have about three days’ worth of scoops in that one jug.”

  “It’s a good thing for you it’s the thought that counts.”

  Her Daed drove down the long lane to Grey’s home, and she was glad to see that his horse and rig were still there.

  She got out, and Nicky rushed behind her as if afraid she might be left behind. When she stood on the doorstep, she pointed at Nicky. “Sit.” Her dog obeyed, and Lena knocked on the door.

  Grey opened it, looking surprised to see her. “Lennie, what are you doing here?”

  She held up the manila envelope. “I came to give you the results from when I worked with Ivan.”

  “Oh, I … I … kumm rei.” He stepped back. Nicky whined, still sitting where Lena had told her to. Grey motioned. “You too.” The dog ran inside, and Grey closed the door, studying her. “Why today?”

  “I … I’m actually not sure. I had a dream that reminded me about this, so here I am. I didn’t know if I’d catch you.”

  “Ivan’s sleeping in a bit, so I’m letting him rest. Today won’t be easy.”

  “You’re spending a good bit of it with Elsie’s folks then.”

  “Ya.”

  Rumors said the Blanks were in a bad way emotionally. They were bitter and miserable and dragging down anyone around them. She couldn’t imagine how hard that would be for Grey and Ivan. “Daed and I are spending most of today at Ada’s.”

  “At Ada’s?”

  Lena held her index finger over her lips. “I think there might be a little attraction between them.”

  “Really? Your Daed’s been without a wife for a long time now.”

  “Thirteen years last October. Same as for Ada.”

  “No one could forget that nightmare.”

  “Even all these years later I still miss Mamm so badly some days. I can’t even imagine what you must be feeling.”

  “Ya, it’s … it’s tough.” He held up a coffee mug. “Care for some brew?”

  “Ya.”

  He poured her a cup and slid the sugar and cream toward her.

  “Denki.”

  “Would you care to sit for a spell? And I’ll ask your Daed to come in.”

  “I can’t stay.” She added sweetener and cream and stirred her drink. “And Daed won’t come in this time. He wants me to keep it brief. But I can down a cup before leaving. Daed fixed the coffee this morning. I do believe he could live single the rest of his life and never get the hang of fixing anything but water.” She took a sip. “Oh, now that’s good coffee.” She drank a little more before setting the cup down. “Ivan’s bright, possibly one of the brightest children I’ve ever worked with.” She passed him the envelope. He opened it and pulled out her report. While he read it, she sipped on her coffee.

  “Horse neck, Lennie. I never would’ve figured this.”

  “I talked to my friend Samantha about it too. You remember her?”

  “Ya, the Englischer girl who used to spend the night with you sometimes and make your Daed nervous that you might get pulled into the world.”

  “That’s her. We’re still friends and still get together occasionally. She finished her master’s program last year, and this is her first year as a school counselor. I showed her the tests he took, and she agrees with me. It means he’s as smart as he is cute, which is never a good combination for the girls’ sakes. I imagine he’s much like you were at that age, but since I was just a baby then, I can’t recall what you looked or acted like.”

  “I remember the first time I saw you. My Mamm had gone to visit your Mamm. I’d have been nearly five by then. We walked into your Mamm’s bedroom, where you’d been born the day before. Your Mamm was still in bed, and you were in her arms. Your Mamm patted the bed, and I climbed up beside her on my knees, getting a good look at you. I remember thinking you looked so little and helpless … and then you let out a scream that about made me wet my pants.”

  She giggled. “I still have that effect on Allen. Ask him.”

  He slid the report into its envelope. “I love Ivan the same, no matter whether he’s brilliant or slow.”

  “I never doubted that.”

 
; “So you know where I’m coming from when I ask, if he’s this bright, why does he seem slow and immature?”

  “Maturity will happen. Seems to me his Daed was a short, scrawny kid until … when, eighteen years old?”

  “Sixteen, thank you very much.” He ran the last words together quickly, with mocked offense.

  “Sixteen. And your maturity issues were physical, not emotional, but your son isn’t yet six.”

  “Point taken.”

  “If you can stand my usual honesty, I think you might be doing too much for him. Your Daed had you doing chores at a young age. My first memory of you had to be when I was five or six. You were in the barn milking cows, tending horses, and cleaning stalls by yourself. I was smitten just watching you.”

  “Interesting.”

  “And I remained that way until the old age of seven.”

  “Clearly you fell in and out of being smitten easily, because I never knew.”

  He never knew. Not that time or when she was about to enter high school or when she turned eighteen. It’d been a long time since she’d remembered how badly she’d wanted him to have feelings for her like she had for him. But he hadn’t, and when Elsie arrived in Dry Lake, he never looked back.

  That’s just not who they were. With only a minimum of pain and disappointment, she’d accepted that soon after Elsie had arrived.

  Lena ran her finger around the rim of the mug. “Remember when Allen stole a pie from Mamm’s windowsill? Later that day Mamm questioned him. He lied and said I’d taken it to feed to my dog. You knew the truth, and when you didn’t take up for me, I … I hated you … for a while.”

  “Allen could beat me up. You couldn’t. But that story explains a lot about your obsession to get back at people, using desserts.”

  She couldn’t resist smiling as she saw hints of the man he’d been before Elsie died. That awful day removed all rays of light from his eyes like when the sun dropped past the horizon in winter. “My point is that I think you should give him more responsibilities in line with a five-year-old. Does he dress himself?”

  “No. How can he?”

  “He’ll figure it out. He’ll be missing that arm the rest of his life. He won’t grow out of that. Let him struggle until he’s learned ways to compensate. And when he goes to the shop with you, give him some small projects of his own, like organizing the hardware or sweeping up and such. Let him figure out how to do things with one arm.”

  Grey studied her, looking like he agreed with her bold statements.

  She took another sip of coffee. “We all have a handicap. And every one of us had to figure out how to get work done.”

  “What’s your handicap?”

  Her face felt warm as thoughts of her birthmark embarrassed her. Had he become so used to the sight of her that he no longer noticed? She traced the spot with her fingers, wondering how men saw her. “Having to put up with you.”

  He tugged at her hand, pulling it away from her face. “Surely you don’t think …”

  She lowered her eyes and took a sip of her coffee.

  “Lennie.” He sounded so shocked. “You’re striking. The day we came to see you, Elsie remarked about how beautiful you are.”

  Unsure how to change the subject, Lena only knew she’d never felt so uncomfortable around Grey. She was blemished. She accepted it. It seemed he’d accepted it too, a long time ago. Perhaps his reaction meant that he no longer felt sorry for her. She liked that thought, but to mention her looks in the same sentence as striking or beautiful was just wrong. She finished the last of her coffee. “I need to go. I just wanted to make sure you knew the truth about your son.”

  “I’m glad you did, especially today. I needed some good news.” Grey took the envelope to a small, messy desk beside the back door. He shoved it into the plastic standing divider with a bunch of other mail. Rather than getting the envelope in, a stack of letters fell out and scattered on the floor. He grabbed them up, and then stopped suddenly as he studied a letter. Several moments later he tossed everything else onto the desk, but he continued to stare at the item in his hand.

  She set her mug in the sink. “I shouldn’t have stayed this long. If the carriage had a horn, I’m sure Daed would be using it by now.”

  Grey didn’t look up. She motioned for Nicky and headed toward the door.

  She paused. “Grey … are you okay?”

  He slid his fingers over the address—Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Graber. He slid the letter into his pants pocket. “Kumm, I’ll walk you out and speak to your Daed.”

  Grey stood on his driveway as the Kauffman rig drove out of sight. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the letter. It held the results of the DNA testing he and Elsie had done less than a week before she died. He’d thought about these findings several times, but he hadn’t realized they’d come in. According to the postage date, it’d arrived here about eight weeks after Elsie died. His Mamm or Daed or a sibling had been bringing in the mail for him when they came for a visit.

  The titles of Mr. and Mrs. stirred tornado-force winds inside him. Studying the envelope, he ambled back into the house. If he opened it, he’d know the truth. Had Elsie been in fear all those years for nothing? Or had she shut him out of her heart and out of their bedroom based on reasons he could live with?

  He put his thumb under the seal of the envelope and tore a bit of it before stopping. If she were alive, they’d sit down together and open this. He could imagine the tension in the room, as the tests would have decided much of their future. But now that she was dead, did he really want to know what this envelope held?

  She’d been wrong about Ivan. If she had shut out Grey without just cause, he’d wrestle with anger again. If the results said either of them had a genetic issue that caused their offspring to have defects, how would he feel then? When his grief eased, would some part of him feel relieved that her death had freed both of them?

  Grey paced as anger rose within him. “God forbid!”

  He couldn’t change that their life together was over, but he could protect her memory and his heart. Still he ached to know the truth. She’d isolated him based on her fears. Had she been right?

  Ivan walked into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes. “Frehlich Zwedde Grischtdaag.” Ivan wished his Daed a Merry Second Christmas.

  Grey tussled his son’s hair. “Frehlich Zwedde Grischtdaag, Ivan.”

  His son kept going, heading for the bathroom.

  Grey felt as trapped by this medical report as he’d been by Elsie behaving as if she disliked everything about him. He wouldn’t chain himself to regret or resentment. He went to the stove and lit the gas flame. Whether Elsie had been right or wrong about them passing down bad DNA to their offspring, he’d never know. He held the letter over the flame. When it caught on fire, he moved to the kitchen sink and watched it burn. “I choose to be free of all that we didn’t handle right.”

  He dropped it into the sink as the last of the paper turned to black ashes. He closed his eyes, feeling guilt begin to release its grip.

  Twenty-One

  Cara sat on the corner of her bed as Deborah tried to make her hair look like it should. Second Christmas, and Ada had Amish guests arriving soon. “It’s no use trying to get it to stay in place, Deb.”

  “Well, there’s no hiding that all you have is a stubby ponytail instead of a bun under your prayer Kapp. But with enough bobby pins and hair spray, we can make the sides stay in place … sort of. Even Englischers who come here from way outside Amish country take note of your hair. One woman had some sort of zoom lens on her camera and asked if she could take a photo of you while you were in the tower.”

  “Uh, lady, the sign out front clearly says no taking photos of the workers.” Cara grabbed her prayer Kapp off the open Bible on her bed and passed it to Deborah. She read a few verses from the Bible regularly, but understanding most of it took knowing history and principles she wasn’t familiar with yet. But she kept at it. “Was yesterday what Christmas was always like
for you and Ephraim?”

  “There were always presents, too much food, and lots of people we loved. Is that what you mean?”

  “I … I guess. It just feels like I’ve entered a different country sometimes.”

  Deborah wove the last straight pin through strands of Cara’s hair. “Well the fact that we kept forgetting to speak English probably has something to do with that feeling.”

  Cara stood and straightened her dress and apron while looking in the mirror. “It does fit nice.”

  “Ya, nicer than my dresses fit you. Ephraim knew what he was doing when he hired Lavina to make new dresses. Christmas present or not, a man paying for dresses to be made for his girl or wife, like Ephraim did, has to be a first.”

  Cara moved to the dresser, picked up another gift he’d given her, and opened it. She ran her fingers over the well-worn pages of Sense and Sensibility. The clothbound edition had been published in 1908, and Ephraim had given it to her yesterday for Christmas. From the moment she’d opened it, she’d sensed an odd stirring in her soul.

  Ephraim loved books as much as she did. She’d noticed that the first night she slept in his home. Finding the gift had taken him time, effort, and money, but that was only part of what touched her so deeply. When she opened the book, the first sentences filled her like music used to, and she felt the beat of them thrum inside her. The feelings hadn’t faded a bit since yesterday.

  She used to love books above all else, but that was before she had to drop out of school in order to survive. After that, reading became a luxury she didn’t have time for, and music had filled that void. Everywhere she worked, music came through the speakers or the music channels on television.

  “He’s said nothing about me not taking Lori’s bike away.” The texture of the off-white pages felt much like an infant’s palm.

  “What else did you think he’d do?”

  “I … I expected at least a little bullying on the topic.” She couldn’t remember dealing with a man who hadn’t bullied her in one way or another. Her husband had been a gentle man in a thousand ways, and she’d grown to love him deeply, but even he knew the fine art of cornering her—and because of it, she’d married him.