The Bridge of Peace

by Cindy Woodsmall

  “Yes, Mollie, we realize that,” Michael added. “We’re not talking about reinstating her right now. We’re simply assessing the damage. You seem to think Samantha hypnotized your son, but he keeps saying she didn’t.”

  Dwayne’s mother glanced at him, but she didn’t tell the board who’d told her that.

  “Peter.” Grey placed his elbow on one leg. “Samantha only came to the school a few times right after Elsie died. Why did you see her more than that?”

  “Lena asked if I needed to talk to somebody. Lena … she’s got an eye for what’s really happening inside her students. I told her no, but later on, after I kept waking with nightmares and got to where I couldn’t stand eating, Dwayne told me I should tell Lena I needed to talk to Samantha again. It helped.” Peter looked at his Mamm. “I … I’m sorry, but when I started thinking about killing myself, I just wanted to talk to that woman again.”

  “Peter!” Mamm screamed. “What are you saying? That’s … a … sin!”

  “Let’s not get into a debate on what is and isn’t a sin.” Grey put his hand on Peter’s leg. “Nothing is a sin because one feels drawn to it. It was a temptation that he sought help to avoid. If being tempted is a sin, then where does that leave Jesus?”

  Dwayne’s Mamm plunked into a chair. “Ya … ya … I hadn’t thought about it. That woman … she helped you?”

  “A lot, Mamm. I never saw her do or say nothing that might pull someone from the faith. She only wanted to teach us some things she’s learned about dealing with shocking and violent deaths, and she likes learning things I can teach her.”

  Leeriness crossed Mamm’s face. “What did she need to know from a boy?”

  “Well, she wanted to know how to measure a horse by hands and the difference between a pony’s, donkey’s, and horse’s personality and what she should look for to know if a horse is a good one. She’s been thinking about buying one for her children.”

  Dwayne couldn’t stand Peter’s disloyalty, and he refused to hear another word from any of them. Lena had cast a spell on all of them, and the only way to break it was to kill her. He slammed the door as he left, mounted his horse, and rode home. He stormed into the tool shed and found the goods he’d been hiding there.

  After he placed the thick part of the baseball bat in the vise, he tightened the clamps. He grabbed the steel horseshoe and lined it up against the wooden bat. He tried it upside down, right side up, and sideways. Sideways was the ticket. It had taken a bit of effort and patience to find a heavy steel horseshoe like this one. But it would be worth all the hassle. He opened a package of screws and began anchoring the shoe to the bat.

  Tomorrow would be her last day. He hoped she didn’t enjoy it. And he’d just be so very sad to learn her rogue horse had stomped her to death.

  Lena set the pressing iron facedown on the heating plate. Her home smelled of freshly made bread. She’d opened the windows at daybreak, and even as it neared noontime, the cool May air kept the room comfortable as she baked and ironed.

  Her Daed wouldn’t be back from Ada’s until nearly dark, and when he did get home, he would have already eaten dinner. But she wanted to take a loaf of bread to each member of the school board and apologize for overstepping her bounds. She still believed the scholars did nothing but benefit from Samantha’s visits, but Lena had been stubborn and rebellious to refuse to submit to anyone else’s opinions and concerns but her own. She would apologize for her lack of submission.

  Other than her family, she’d seen very few people. Five days ago she’d stood in Allen’s yard talking with Grey across the creek with the half-finished bridge between them. She longed to finish her half, but that awful feeling of something kept tugging at her. If she could get a peace about that one thing, she’d be ready to complete her half of the bridge.

  She understood now what he’d meant when he’d said, I’ll build us a bridge … in every way possible.

  The structure symbolized her part in meeting him at a place where they could understand each other, but she just couldn’t do that, couldn’t promise to be his again until she knew what this catch in her spirit was about.

  Her horse neighed loud and long. She went to the front door, but before she stepped outside, unease warred inside her. Nicky jumped up and followed her. “Not this time, ol’ girl. She’s spooked enough without you getting near her.” Ignoring her reluctance, Lena went outside and closed the front door so Nicky wouldn’t push the screen door open and follow her.

  She hurried down the steps, but that odd feeling caught in her gut again. She stopped and studied the barn. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, and she commanded her imagination to quit being silly. Even as she chided herself, she stopped walking. Nicky’s angry bark blasted through the air.

  She went back toward her home. As she climbed the steps, a shadow fell, and boards creaked as Dwayne came around the corner of the wraparound porch.

  He tapped a baseball bat on the porch floor. “Going somewhere?” He smiled and held up the bat, showing her the attached horseshoe. “I think you’ve got horse problems, ma’am.” He laughed. “Almost as if somebody has been taking a cattle prod to her. Of course, you make that real easy because you like her kept in the stall. Now that bull wasn’t as easy to use the cattle prod on. I had to be on a fast horse that knew how to take direction. And poor Aaron thinks he didn’t repair the fence good when I’m the one who undid his handiwork. But the end result was not aimed at anyone but you.”

  Lena couldn’t catch her breath or make her body move. She just stood there trying to think of what to do. Scratching on the solid door, Nicky barked and growled, but she couldn’t get out.

  Dwayne flinched when Nicky lunged at an open window, knocking over a side table and kerosene lantern. “Just look at how this has turned out. That bull gored the wrong person, but this new plan means Grey can lose two women in the same way. He’ll never get over the odds of that. It’ll drive him nuts. Who knows, I’ve come to hate him so much, I just might be around to make it happen a third time.”

  She had to get past Dwayne and inside her home. If she couldn’t get in, just getting the door open would free Nicky. That’d give her time to … to … what? Lena needed a plan.

  He gestured toward the barn. “This way, Teacher Lena.”

  She suddenly remembered a self-defense move she’d learned while in public school. Unsure if she could do it, she felt woozy. He planned on killing her, but she didn’t have to make it easy for him.

  When she didn’t do his bidding, he grabbed her by the arm, jerking her along as he went down the steps. She resisted his pull. “A fighter, eh? I figured on that. It’ll make the marks I leave on you look more like a horse stomped you to death.”

  He moved to the same step she was on and towered over her like Peter had at the beginning of the school year. As he peered down at her, she arched her free hand back, jutting out the ball of it, and jammed it into his nose as hard as she could. Blood gushed, and he stumbled backward; landing on his backside on the steps, he screamed and cursed.

  The dog barked and growled while lunging at the screened window. She hurried up the steps, across the porch, and clutched the doorknob. Before she could turn it, his hand caught her by the ankle and pulled her feet out from under her.

  Thirty-Eight

  With a clipboard in hand, Grey cataloged the shop’s inventory. During his next break he’d write to Lennie. He wished he knew the words that would reach inside her heart and allow her to trust him. There were a lot of things about women he didn’t understand, but Lennie’s belief that men cared more about some physical feature than they did anything else baffled him.

  “Grey,” Ephraim said.

  “Ya?”

  He pointed outside. Peter stood beside his horse at the hitching post. “He’s started this way half a dozen times. I asked him if I could help, and he muttered your name.”

  “Thanks.” Grey strode outside. “Peter,” he spoke softly, but Peter jolted.

 
; “Dwayne.” Peter gasped. “He … he says I’m too stupid to know … and maybe he’s right … but …”

  “Peter, take a few breaths and slow down.”

  Peter sucked in air as if he’d been held under water. “It’s my fault about Elsie. I should’ve come to you a long time ago. I … I’m so sorry.”

  “You didn’t cause Elsie’s death, Peter. And whatever you did do wrong, I’ve forgiven you.”

  Specks of sweat beaded across Peter’s pale face. “You won’t believe me, and he’ll find a way to make me look like a liar.”

  “I … I don’t understand.”

  “This morning I saw Dwayne with a horseshoe attached to a baseball bat. It’s a weapon. I knew it the moment I saw it.”

  Grey’s whole body jolted as if he’d been shot.

  Peter wiped his eyes. “I made up an excuse and got Mamm to let me leave school early. As I came through the back field, I saw him leaving with it. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I’m just too stupid to add two and two, but I got a bad feeling about this, and he hates Lena.”

  “You did the right thing.” Knowing his own horse was way out in the pasture, Grey grabbed the reins to Peter’s horse. “I’d like to get there quicklike. May I borrow your horse?”

  “Sure.”

  “There’s nothing stupid about what you’ve done here,” Grey said as he mounted, and then he spurred the animal hard. Dwayne had a mean streak, but surely he was all talk and no action.

  No matter how much he tried to convince himself of Lennie’s safety, fear tightened around his throat. Thoughts of her being hurt tormented him. And when his greatest fear—losing her—danced a vision before him, he prayed for mercy.

  A half mile before he came to the four-way stop, he pulled on the right rein, guiding the horse off the road and through a back pasture. Going this way would take half a mile off the trip. Images around him seemed to magnify as he flew across the field. The sky stood out as a brilliant blue. The hayfield went on for acres and acres, all filled with rich green blades of hay about two feet tall. Finally Lennie’s place came into view. Nicky’s angry bark echoed off the hills as Grey approached. He brought the horse to a halt, jumped off, and ran toward the house. Nicky leaped at the screen of the window, barking unlike he’d ever heard her before. The dog yapped and growled. The horse whinnied loudly. Lennie screamed. Grey ran as hard and fast toward the barn as he could.

  Inside the shadows of the barn, Lennie fell back against the wooden slats of a half wall. Dwayne raised the bat. Grey bolted into the barn, coming between Dwayne and Lennie. Dwayne’s bat hit Grey’s ribcage, causing Dwayne to stumble backward. Searing pain shot down Grey’s left side, knocking the breath out of him.

  Several seconds passed before he managed to jerk air into his lungs. He glanced to Lennie. Her eyes were closed, and she hadn’t budged. Alarm ran through him. Dwayne regained his footing but not before Grey took hold of a nearby bucket. He met the next blow of the bat with the bucket. The power of Dwayne’s swings caused fresh pain to keep pounding through Grey’s chest, and he grew weaker. “Put the bat down.”

  “Make me.”

  Holding on to the bucket, Grey deflected blow after blow, while backing Dwayne away from Lennie. The horse kicked and whinnied harder with each thudding sound. Grey saw a cattle prod in the horse’s stall. And Dwayne’s plan began to make sense—the bat with a horseshoe attached, the cattle prod, Dwayne fighting with Lena in the barn. “It’s over, Dwayne. No one is going to believe both of us were stomped to death by her horse. Put the bat down.”

  Dwayne swung again and again, each time aiming for a different part of Grey. He warded off the blows with the bucket, but exhaustion and pain slowed him. Dwayne came at him again, and Grey went to his knees. Holding the bucket above his head, he withstood another hit. Something black lunged at Dwayne, hitting him square in the chest and knocking his upper body into the horse’s open stall. Nicky jumped back, barking like mad. The horse kicked and stomped as Dwayne tried to get out of the stall. Grey got to his feet and reached for Dwayne to pull him out. The horse kicked again, its back hoof catching Dwayne in the temple, and he fell over. Grey grabbed Dwayne by the feet and dragged him out of the stall.

  He lay unmoving on the ground.

  Grey ran to the half wall where Lena lay motionless. “Lennie.”

  Nicky nudged her, licked her face, and whined. While going to his knees in front of Lennie, Grey patted the dog, unsure how she got out but thankful she had. “Sit.” Grey pointed, not wanting the dog’s excitement to jar Lennie. Nicky did, studying her owner.

  Lennie rubbed her head, moaning. One arm lay lifeless, and she cradled it while slowly prying her eyes open. Fear owned him as memories of losing Elsie beat against him.

  “Grey.” She gasped in pain before reaching for him. “You okay?”

  “Ya.” He drew her fingers to his lips and kissed them. “I need to go get help. Just stay still, okay?”

  “I’m not hurt bad. I promise.” Tears filled her eyes. “He only managed to hit my arm, and then I hit the back of my head on that wall when he pushed me.”

  Grey kissed her forehead and her cheeks, breathing in the beauty of life. “I was so worried.” His lips moved over hers. He cradled her face. “I need to get us some help. You’ve got to be seen.”

  “Dwayne?”

  Grey turned to look at Dwayne’s still body. “I think he’s dead.”

  The sound of hoofs grew louder until Ephraim came into sight, riding bareback. He brought his horse to a halt just outside the barn. “Peter said …” He studied the scene for a moment. “Do you need help?”

  “Ya. I want Lennie seen, but we need a driver to take us.”

  Ephraim took off for his place to make a call.

  Lennie tried to stand. “I want out of here.”

  Grey stood and helped her up. She moaned in pain. “My ankle’s hurt too. I don’t think I can put any weight on it.” She cradled her lifeless arm.

  He gently steadied her, concerned about possible hidden injuries. After a glance at Dwayne, she buried her face against Grey’s chest.

  “Kumm.” He wanted to carry her but feared he might make her injuries worse. Leaning on him, she slowly walked across the driveway and yard and to the steps of the front porch. The screen on one of the open windows was ripped. Nicky had jumped through it to get to them.

  Lennie sat on a step. “If I’d followed my gut, I would’ve never stepped outside.”

  Grey sat beside her, and she rested her head against his shoulder. “And if you hadn’t followed your instincts to have faith in Peter, he wouldn’t have come and told on his brother.”

  Nicky put her head on Lennie’s lap.

  Grey ran his hands over hers, feeling the softness of her skin, so grateful she was safe. “You know I love you, don’t you?”

  “I want to believe that, but from the beginning I’ve had this catch inside me that makes me feel like you’re hiding something.”

  She’d picked up on the lie he carried. But his life before her, the one between him and Elsie, would never be open for another woman to know about. His marriage deserved that much from him, didn’t it? He drew her fingers to his lips and kissed them. “Some things are best left alone, Lennie. I’m not one of your students for you to mold. Do you trust me?”

  She said nothing for several long minutes.

  “Grey?”

  He kissed her forehead. “Ya?”

  “If you’ll bring me a pot of daisies from the greenhouse while we wait for a driver, I’ll show you how to land on ‘she loves me.’”

  He held her hand that wasn’t hurt and gently squeezed it. “I’d like that.”

  “Lena.” Her Daed tapped on her bedroom door, waking her.

  She moaned in pain while trying to sit up, realizing she still had Aaron’s letter in her hand. The pages of the lined paper crinkled as she shifted. “Ya?”

  Midmorning sun streamed through her bedroom window. Nicky lay on the bed beside her. The dog
had not let her get out of sight since she’d come home from her surgery at the hospital two weeks ago. Lena had a plate in her arm, a sprained ankle, a mild concussion, and a lot of bruises—all of which were diagnosed through the proper tests and addressed without a night’s stay at the hospital.

  Her Daed eased the door open. “I wouldn’t wake you, except Peter’s here. He’s downstairs, hoping you’ll see him. Are you up to it?”

  Two weeks of bed rest and she’d yet to have an easy day of recuperation. But she’d begun to need less pain medication and to feel a little stronger each day this week. The doctor had said the type of sprain she had meant she couldn’t put much weight on her leg. He gave her a medical boot to wear, but since she couldn’t use crutches because of the injury to her arm, she’d had to wait for her ankle to heal enough so she could walk using only the boot. She’d been able to get up and move around for short periods the last few days.

  “Okay, I need a housecoat. Deborah and Cara washed clothes and put them away last night, so I’d look for it in the closet.”

  While her Daed rummaged through her closet, she tucked Aaron’s letter under the covers, unwilling for anyone to catch a glance at its contents. He was doing well but knew he had a long way to go yet. He hadn’t chanced returning to Dry Lake for Dwayne’s funeral for fear of what it might do to him. It’d been hard for him to admit how blinded the alcohol had kept him. He’d thought Dwayne to be a better man than himself. The news that Dwayne had dismantled a part of the fence, purposefully making it easy for the bull to get into the wrong pasture, and had angered the bull with a cattle prod had only shifted Aaron’s sense of guilt, not removed it. The encouraging news was that Aaron continued on, not drinking since arriving at the Better Path.

  Her Daed passed her a housecoat and eased pillows behind her back. With her arm in a cast and a lot of bruises, shifting didn’t come easy. After a little help from her Daed, she slid her good arm into her housecoat and hung the other side of the terry cloth cover-up around her shoulder.