The Bridge of Peace

by Cindy Woodsmall

  “You getting hungry?”

  Lena wrinkled her nose. “You doing the cooking?”

  He laughed. “Ada’s here.”

  “Again? And on a Saturday this time. That means she’s missing her busiest day at Ada’s House.”

  Her Daed’s cheeks flushed. “With so many folks stopping by, she’s coming whenever she can to help fix desserts and coffee.”

  “Well, I’m glad my suffering is working out so well for you.”

  “Ya, me too.”

  She laughed and then yelped with pain.

  He placed her prayer Kapp on her head and kissed her through it. His hand rested on top of her head, and his eyes appeared to be misting.

  Grey had saved her life and sustained three broken ribs from the hit he took for her. If Dwayne had hit her full force in the head, as he’d aimed to do with that one blow, she’d have died. The memories of that day were endless, rarely fading from her thoughts.

  During that awful time she’d had the wisdom to stall Dwayne by getting him to talk. He’d been itching for years to brag about his genius in stealing from homes in her area, killing pets, and setting her up as his best victory yet. He saw her as no more valuable than a barn cat—to be done away with at will. She shuddered. Neither his viciousness nor his wanton desire to kill her could ever be fully explained.

  He’d left a lot of bruises on her, but when he’d started swinging that bat, she dodged it, deflected it with boards, a saddle, and her now-injured arm. When he’d slung her against that wooden wall, knocking her unconscious and unable to defend herself, Grey arrived and took the blow for her.

  “I’m safe, Daed.”

  He cleared his throat. “You keep it that way.” He picked up a pitcher of water and poured her a glass before he opened a bottle of pain medicine. “Half a dozen girlfriends are also downstairs, hoping for another visit.”

  “Don’t any of them have a Saturday job?”

  He held out the glass of water and a pill. “I’m not asking that. You’re the one on enough pain meds to be so candid. You do it.”

  She suppressed laughter. “I’d like to see Grey.”

  “I know, and I’m sure he’d like to see you. Discretion says to wait.”

  When she and Grey had returned from the hospital the day of the incident, her Daed had asked him not to stay and not to visit. While in the waiting room of the hospital during her surgery, Grey had to answer a lot of questions for the police and for the church leaders. According to her Daed, it didn’t take long for the church leaders to realize Grey cared for her. When they asked Grey, he didn’t deny it, and the church leaders began discussing what to do. A few hours later a preacher confided to her Daed that because Grey and Lena had been through so much together this past year, they were considering freeing him of the usual time restraints and protocol on a widower. But the preacher cautioned her Daed that Grey needed to keep his distance until a decision was reached.

  Grey told Lena he was willing to stay, that the whole community could think of him what they wanted. But Lena asked him to go home. She didn’t want to be the cause of trouble for Grey, so now they waited.

  “Any news from the church leaders?”

  “Not yet. These things take time.”

  She rubbed her head. With all the medications, she could barely think. “How long since Dwayne’s funeral?”

  “Eleven days.”

  “How does Peter look?”

  “Rough, but better than I’d have expected.”

  “Send him on up.”

  She lay back and closed her eyes, thinking of Grey and the life they had ahead of them.

  Grey was right. He wasn’t a student to be molded. If he chose not to share whatever caused that catch inside her, she’d respect that. She didn’t have to figure out every angle of what was wrong in someone’s life and insist they become all she thought they should be. Be willing to help? Yes. Track down the source of the problem and refuse to let go until she saw the wanted improvement? No.

  That was God’s job, not hers.

  Peter eased the door open, looking pale and shaky.

  “Hi. Kumm.” She motioned to one of several chairs her Daed had set up in her room for visitors.

  He sat in the chair farthest from her. “Mamm and Daed said they won’t be coming, but I know they’re sorry. They didn’t know him like I did. Christian saw it too. But we only thought he was mean. I didn’t know he was … there’s a word our new counselor uses … oh, ya, psychologically disturbed.”

  “All is forgiven, Peter. You tell them that for me, okay?”

  He nodded. “I … I’m sorry I called you ugly and stupid. You’re not.”

  “Forgiven.”

  Silence fell between them. She wanted to thank him, but should she? His actions had saved her, but his brother had died. “I … I’m proud of you, Peter.”

  He shifted. “I’ve been thinking … a lot, and … well … I was so busy pointing out your flaws, I couldn’t see my own.”

  “It works like that for all of us at some point, especially teens. You aren’t the first to point out my birthmark, nor will you be the last. I’ve considered trying to have it removed, although it doesn’t sound like they can do much more than make it fade.”

  “No. You … you shouldn’t do that. If you can make yourself perfect on the outside, where does that leave me and others like me who have marks stamped on our insides? I can’t have what Dwayne’s done removed by some doctor. I gotta live with it. I gotta carry that stain the rest of my life, hoping a few people can see beyond it to love me anyway.”

  “That’s good insight, Peter. Really good. Have you and Grey talked any?”

  “We had a good long visit last night. You and him got something going on?” He lowered his head. “I shouldn’t ask that. But if you don’t, you should. I think he likes you.”

  “Ya, I think so too.”

  Peter stood. “I need to go. Mamm and Daed get worried right quicklike these days.”

  “Denki for coming by.”

  He closed the door as he left. Last night Deborah and Cara had washed Lena’s hair for her and helped her bathe. With some assistance she could manage to get dressed, visit with her friends for a little bit before sending them on their way, and maybe even bake some cookies to take to Grey. It was midmorning. Surely she could do that small list by midafternoon.

  She moved ever so slowly through the next four hours, but with Ada’s help, Lena went to the porch with her hair neatly done, a clean dress on, and a box of fresh chocolate chip oatmeal cookies in hand. Well, the dress was mostly on. Ada had to cut it, add material, and resew it, but the patchwork dress looked normal as long as she kept her good arm through one sleeve of her sweater and had the other side pinned in place. The top part of the boot was hidden under her dress.

  She and Grey hadn’t spoken of their future, but she knew he loved her. They fit. And he didn’t want flawless. While drifting in and out of a drug-induced state, she had finally understood the core of who Grey was. He wanted friendship most of all—the kind only a man and woman in love could have.

  Her Daed led his horse and smooth-riding carriage to her. “You sure you don’t want me to drive you there?” He opened the door, and Nicky hopped in.

  She passed Daed the box of cookies and slowly climbed into the buggy. “I need to see Grey. Your horse takes no effort to direct. You know that. Go have coffee with Ada. Surely she’s not here just to help me and be a hostess for my guests.”

  Her Daed glanced through the screen door of the house. “I hope not.”

  “Maybe it’s time you found out. I won’t stay long, and I won’t go again until the church leaders and community approve. But no one will frown at me going to his place to give him a proper thank-you.”

  Her Daed passed the box to her. “Ada and your siblings were trying to keep it a secret so you wouldn’t do any of the work, but they’ve planned a huge dinner.”

  She took the reins in hand. “Sounds wonderful. I’
ll be home in plenty of time for that.”

  He closed the door to the carriage. Her Daed’s horse clipped along at a nice speed. Her own horse was in the pasture. Lena planned to work with her to rebuild trust, but she didn’t know if the now high-strung mare would ever be useful again.

  The warmth of May soaked into her healing body. After nearly a mile she drove up Grey’s long gravel driveway, parked the rig, and got out. Ivan ran outside and greeted her, saying they’d been fishing earlier. He and his Daed had cleaned the fish, and now his Daed was in the shower.

  When she awkwardly climbed out of the buggy, he pointed at the cast on her arm and her medical boot, asking what had happened. She made up a story about tripping over her shadow. He laughed, and when Nicky bounded out of the buggy, ready to play, Ivan was totally and happily distracted. After they talked and played with Nicky for a bit, she passed him the box of goodies and told him to let his Daed know she was here.

  She meandered to the creek and watched the pristine water flow downstream. Life, like the water drifting by, never stopped moving. She longed to embrace every moment without regard to flaws—hers or others—and to end each day knowing if it was her last, she’d loved freely.

  “Lennie,” Grey called as he strode toward her. His movements weren’t stiff, but she imagined his ribs still caused him a good bit of discomfort. Unlike her arm, there wasn’t anything that could be done for ribs except pain relievers while he healed. He came within feet of her, and his body language spoke of wanting to embrace her. “Should you be out and about like this?”

  “Ya. My strength is starting to return.” She looked at the stockpile of planks still sitting on the bridge. “I want to build my side.”

  “Now?”

  She nodded.

  “Lennie, with your injuries, you can’t possibly be up to it.”

  “If I help about as much as a preschooler and you do the rest, I’m up to it. The question is whether you’ll accept that as me building my half.”

  “You’re here and doing what you can. I’ll never want more.”

  He couldn’t have given a more perfect answer, and with it he’d stolen even more of her heart. “Are you able to do that kind of work?”

  “There’s plenty I can’t do yet, but this will be pretty easy. We’ll move slowly and secure the boards with a minimum of nails for today. The job can be finished right in a week or so when we’re both feeling stronger.”

  Grey brought a few planks at a time and laid them on the bridge next to her. She slid each one into place. With his help she hammered nails part of the way in, and he finished securing them for her. A warm breeze made the bushes along the creek rustle. The pristine water gurgled softly while glistening in the sun. His silvery voice washed over her as they worked. With most of the bridge already done, it didn’t take more than thirty minutes to complete.

  She stood in the middle, and he joined her. He took her by the hand and intertwined his fingers with hers. The catch in her gut concerning him hadn’t let go, but she had peace about it.

  “I have some good news.” Grey drew a breath. “The church leaders came to see me while I was cleaning fish. We have permission to see each other and marry next wedding season.”

  Without warning, tears brimmed. She put her one arm around his waist and leaned her face against his chest. “That’s what I’ve been hoping for—freedom to choose.” After the embrace she gazed up at him. “But I think we should only see each other quietly at Allen’s or my Daed’s until October—not out of hypocrisy or sneaky hiding, but out of respect for how hard it will be on others, like Elsie’s family, if they see us together too soon. They need time, and us waiting for a year after her death to be seen out together is not asking too much.”

  “I think most people have figured out how we feel, Lennie.”

  “Ya. But people knowing and having to observe it are two very different kinds of pain. And when we go public in October, they’ll be pleased we tempered our actions out of respect for the Old Ways. Besides, I think we need quiet visits inside Allen’s or Daed’s home with no stares and lots of calm, easygoing time to really get to know each other.”

  “Are you doing this for me—to keep folks from thinking less of me? Because if you are, I don’t mind what anyone thinks. Not anymore, Lennie.”

  “I … I’ve waited so long, Grey.” A tear escaped and ran down her cheek as she laid the truth of her heart open to him. “I’m sure you can’t imagine how lonely it got. And now I have you. I want to enjoy being courted without feeling people’s frowns or knowing I’m hurting someone.”

  He wiped the tear off her face before kissing her cheek. “I … need to tell you something … at least a sentence or two, just so you know.” He stroked her cheek and down her neck, tracing the path of her birthmark with the back of his fingers—as if assuring her he cherished who she was.

  She waited, but he said nothing. Whatever he needed to say battled with him to stay hidden. “I’ll hear it as if you were inside the circle of peace.”

  He drew a deep breath. “My marriage was … was …” The pain in his voice said so much more than his words. “Difficult. Troubled, really. We had no bridges. No way to cross over. We’d just taken a few steps toward a second chance when she died.”

  What? She didn’t say the word, but she wanted to. His confession didn’t fit with who she’d thought him to be. He had known years of loneliness too. His words, as few as they were, changed her. The news didn’t make her feel superior or more secure. Grey himself had freed her of insecurity without a word about his marriage. But what he’d confessed gave her understanding of many things about her future husband.

  He rubbed the center of his chest, exhaling freely. “I so needed to say that. I needed you to know.”

  “Ya, you did.” She looked up at him, desperately wanting a kiss.

  He cradled her face before he placed his lips over hers. Her heart went wild as dreams of being married to him and having children warmed her. “Will you marry me before next year’s wedding season is over?”

  “Ya. How about February?”

  “February.” Grey rolled the word around as if thinking about the pros and cons. She’d chosen the end of the wedding season, giving them four months of openly courting before they wed. He slowly kissed one side of her face and then the other. “It’s a good plan. In the meantime I intend to steal a kiss or two when no one is looking.”

  She tugged on his shirt collar, pulling him close. “Like this?” She gently pressed her lips against his.

  Excerpt from

  The Harvest of Grace

  Book 3 in the Ada’s House series

  One

  From her perch on the milking stool, Sylvia patted the cow’s side and cooed to her, enjoying the warm softness of the cow’s hide. “You’re feeling better now, ya?” Puffs of white vapor left her mouth when she spoke, and her fingers ached from the cold.

  The cow mooed gently as if answering her.

  Sylvia removed the claw milker from the cow’s udder and sprayed Udder Care to prevent chaffing and to ward off mastitis. She set the stool and bucket out of the way, moved to the far end of the stalls, and pulled the lever that opened the tie rails, releasing the last round of cows from their milking stalls.

  Daed lifted two buckets of milk and headed for the milk house. “What are you humming this morning?”

  “Oh. Uh …” She hadn’t realized she was humming, so she had to pause for a moment and think. “Moon River.”

  “Sure does sound nice. This place don’t seem the same when you’re off. No one else I know hums while working a herd.” He disappeared into the milk house to dump the fresh liquid into the milk tank.

  Unlike a lot of Daeds, Sylvia’s hadn’t minded when she bought an iPod during the early years of her rumschpringe. The Englischer who picked up their milk three times a week had always recharged it for her. But then, five years ago, it fell under a cow during a milking and was trampled to death. Since she still hadn’t
joined the faith, she could’ve bought another iPod, but Lilly was seven by then and hanging around the barn more. It would have hurt Lilly to realize that her older sister didn’t always keep the Old Ways, so she never replaced it. But she missed some of her favorite songs, like “Moon River.” The lyrics about the dream maker always made her think of Elam.

  Her pulse quickened as she envisioned Elam next to her in the barn. His good looks seemed more suited to modeling in Englischer ads than managing a dairy herd, and she found his physical presence frustratingly compelling. He frequently mentioned marriage lately, and she could imagine their future together, always being close to him, waking alongside him in the mornings. But she had reservations too. Didn’t she want more from true love than heart pounding attraction? Maybe she just needed to spend more time talking with him about their “rainbow’s end,” and all her reservations would melt into nothingness.

  She patted a few cows on the rump, gently moving them along. The herd desperately wanted in the barn at milking time, each cow hurrying to a stall in the milking parlor, but they weren’t eager to leave the building afterward. Their contented lowing and the ease with which they lumbered outdoors toward the bunk feeder and water trough made her smile. The large creatures were the same today as they’d always been—peaceful and productive.

  In a side stall a new calf nursed from its mother. Ginger slid her head across the wooden gate, and Sylvia rubbed her long forehead. Sylvia had been up half the night making sure Ginger didn’t have any trouble bringing the calf into the world. Fortunately, Sylvia hadn’t needed to pull the calf or call a vet. Both were victories she was proud of.

  Two years ago after she’d cried over the death of both a cow and her calf, her Daed did the unthinkable. He gave her the right to tend to the breeding of the herd as she saw fit. Her ways took more effort than his, but she’d not lost a cow or a calf yet. Milk production was up, and the overall health of the herd had improved. She had her grandpa’s teachings to thank for that.