The Bridge of Peace

by Cindy Woodsmall

  Her Daed returned from the milk house. “I bet you’re thinking about Daadi Fisher.”

  “Ya, I think of him every time a healthy calf is born.” As a child she’d been her grandfather’s shadow while he tended to the cows, and she’d been young when he began training her in the value of careful breeding and vigilance during every labor and birth. In spite of her being a girl in a patriarchal society, he believed in her. When he’d passed away a couple of years ago, she thought her heart might break.

  Daed headed toward the remaining buckets of milk. Sylvia pushed the wheeled cart that carried all her milking supplies toward the mud sink. “I need the two heaviest of those buckets, Daed.”

  “Two?” His eyes met hers, reflecting interest. “You making more yogurt already?”

  “I am.”

  “Are we eating that much, or are you selling that much?” He poured the white, frothy liquid into a sterilized milk can for her and securely tamped down the lid.

  “The answer to both is yes.”

  It was rare to see a smile on Daed’s face before breakfast, but he grinned broadly. “Sell iss gut, ya?”

  “Ya, it’s a good thing.” She pushed the supply cart into the milk house ection of the barn and then returned to the parlor. “Daed, do you mind if I go to the house early? A bad dream woke Ruth up last night. I promised her that this morning I’d prove it was just a dream.”

  He tossed a pitchfork into a wheelbarrow and went into the first stall. “Sure, go on.”

  Sylvia abandoned her usual routine and climbed the haymow. After finding the mama cat’s new hiding place for her kittens, she gently placed Ruth’s favorite tabby into the inside pocket of her coat and then went back down the ladder.

  “Hey, Daed.”

  He turned, and she pulled out the kitten, once again hinting at her ultimate goal: for Ruth to be allowed to keep this one inside the house when the little fur ball was a week or so older.

  A lopsided grin caused one side of his face to wrinkle, and she wondered what had him so jovial this morning. “Just don’t get me in trouble over it. And make sure Ruthie knows it can’t stay inside. Barn cats tend to become mean once they get a little age on them.”

  Sylvia put the milk cans into a wooden handcart. “They wouldn’t if—”

  “Go already.” He shooed her toward the barn door. “I don’t want to hear any more of your newfangled ideas about how I could run this farm differently. They always cost me money and energy.”

  His tone was playful, but she’d be wise to accept that he meant his words … for now. He’d come a long way in accepting her ideas concerning the farm. She often wondered if he’d give her any say if he had a son. She’d never know, because he had nine daughters, of which she was the eldest and the only one with a heart for farming.

  His other daughters were more typical and girlish in every possible way, preferring housework over farm work. The three teenagers—Beckie, Lizzie, and Naomi—hated farming, always had. Lilly, who’d just turned twelve, would never complain about anything, but the smells and hard work made her queasy. The four youngest—Ruth, Barbie Ann, Salome, and Martha—were a hazard in the barn, causing Daed to shoo them away if they set foot inside the milking parlor.

  Pushing the milk cart, Sylvia hurried from the barn to the house. Last week’s snow glistened under the early morning sunlight. She toted the heavy milk cans inside one by one, being careful not to lean the containers against her body and squish the kitten.

  The warmth of the entryway made her cold fingers scream in pain. Delicious aromas of sausage, biscuits, and coffee made her mouth water and her tummy rumble, keen reminders of how long and cold her night had been.

  Her Mamm was adding wood to the stove, and Lizzie stood at the sink, washing dishes. There was never a shortage of dirty glasses and plates in a house with eleven people.

  Sylvia removed her wader boots. “Morning.”

  Lizzie yawned. “That it is, and it arrives way too early in this house.”

  “Why, there you are.” Mamm closed the door to the stove, smiling and motioning for her. “Kumm. Warm yourself. How’s that mama cow?”

  “Ginger and her newborn are doing great.”

  “I’m glad, but a girl shouldn’t have to work like you do.”

  “I love it. You know that.”

  Mamm put her arm around Sylvia’s shoulders and squeezed. “Still, we need a solution, and your Daed’s found one that is right around the corner.”

  Sylvia would never get used to Daed making plans about the farm without telling her. “What does that mean?”

  Naomi came through the back door, carrying an armload of firewood. She held the door open while Beckie entered with a lighter bundle of wood.

  Beckie’s blond hair peeked out from under one of Daed’s black felt hats, and her blue eyes shone with spunk. “Good grief it’s cold out there. Isn’t it time for warmer weather?”

  Mamm pulled several mugs out of the cabinet. “Your Daed said they’re calling for a long winter and a late spring this year.”

  Clearly her mother had no intention of answering Sylvia’s question. She’d find out whenever her Daed was ready for her to know.

  Interested in more Amish fiction by Cindy Woodsmall?

  Visit AmishFiction.net

  Ada’s House Series

  Main Characters

  Lena Kauffman—twenty-three-year-old Amish schoolteacher in Dry Lake.

  Israel Kauffman—a forty-five-year-old Amish widower. Lena’s father. He’s been quietly interested in Ada Stoltzfus for a long time.

  Allen Kauffman—twenty-nine-year-old brother of Lena. Close friend of Grey’s. Married to Emily, and they have four children.

  Benjamin “Grey” Graber—twenty-eight-year-old Amish man married to Elsie.

  Elsie Blank Graber—twenty-seven years old. Married to Grey Graber.

  Ivan Graber—five-year-old son of Grey and Elsie Graber.

  Cara Atwater Moore—twenty-eight-year-old waitress from New York City who lost her mother as a child, was abandoned by her father, and grew up in foster care. Cara has been stalked for years by Mike Snell. She and her daughter, Lori, found their way to Dry Lake in The Hope of Refuge, and Cara is now engaged to Ephraim Mast.

  Lori Moore—Cara’s seven-year-old daughter. Lori’s father, Johnny, died before she turned two years old, leaving Cara a widow.

  Ephraim Mast—thirty-two-year-old, single Amish man who works as a cabinetmaker and helps manage his ailing father’s business and care for their large family. He and Cara became friends during her visit to Dry Lake when she was a child.

  Deborah Mast—twenty-one-year-old Amish woman who was engaged to Mahlon Stoltzfus in The Hope of Refuge. She’s Ephraim’s sister, but she lives with Ada in Hope Crossing.

  Mahlon Stoltzfus—twenty-three-year-old Amish man who was engaged to Deborah in The Hope of Refuge. He ran off without explanation, leaving his widowed mother and Deborah to cope with life and bills on their own.

  Jonathan Stoltzfus—twenty-six-year-old Amish man who is good friends with Lena Kauffman.

  Ada Stoltzfus—forty-three-year-old widow whose only child is Mahlon. She’s a friend and mentor to Deborah Mast. She took Cara under her wing in The Hope of Refuge.

  Aaron Blank—twenty-four years old. He was raised Amish but hasn’t joined the faith. His sister is Elsie. He runs his parents’ dairy farm.

  Michael Blank—Elsie and Aaron’s father and the chairman of the school board for the local Amish school.

  Dora Blank—Michael’s wife and Elsie and Aaron’s mother.

  Anna Mary Lantz—Ephraim’s ex-girlfriend and one of Deborah’s good friends.

  Emma and Levi Riehl—an aunt and uncle of Cara’s who inadvertently contributed to her being abandoned as a child and consequently being raised in foster care.

  Robbie—an Englischer who is a co-worker and driver for Ephraim’s cabinetry business. He is a driver for several Old Order Amish families.

  Nicky—a
mixed-breed dog whose personality and size resemble the author’s dog, Jersey.

  Glossary*

  Alt Maedel—old maid

  Daadi—grandfather

  Daed—dad or father

  denki—thank you

  Englischer—a non-Amish person. Mennonite sects whose women wear the prayer Kapps are not considered Englischers and are often referred to as Plain Mennonites.

  Grossdaadi—grandfather

  Grossmammi—grandmother

  guck—look

  gut—good

  Helf—help

  Hund—dog

  Kapp—a prayer covering or cap

  kumm—come (singular)

  kummet—come (plural)

  Mamm—mom or mother

  nee—no

  Ordnung—The written and unwritten rules of the Amish. The regulations are passed down from generation to generation. Any new rules are agreed upon by the church leaders and endorsed by the members during special meetings. Most Amish know all the rules by heart.

  Pennsylvania Dutch—Pennsylvania German. Dutch in this phrase has nothing to do with the Netherlands. The original word was Deutsch, which means “German.” The Amish speak some High German (used in church services) and Pennsylvania German (Pennsylvania Dutch), and after a certain age, they are taught English.

  Plain—refers to the Amish and certain sects of Mennonites.

  Plain Mennonite—any Mennonites whose women wear the prayer Kapp and caped dresses and the men have a dress code.

  rumschpringe—running around. The true purpose of the rumschpringe is threefold: give freedom for an Amish young person to find an Amish mate; to give extra freedoms during the young adult years so each person can decide whether to join the faith; to provide a bridge between childhood and adulthood.

  wunderbaar—wonderful

  ya—yes

  zerick—back

  Pennsylvania Dutch phrases used in The Bridge of Peace

  Bischt hungerich?—Are you hungry?

  Der Gaule kann nimmi schteh.—The horse cannot stand.

  draus in da Welt—out in the world

  Du bischt daheem.—You’re home.

  Duh net schtobbe.—Do not stop.

  Frehlich Zwedde Grischtdaag—Merry Second Christmas

  Geh, ess.—Go, eat.

  Gern gschehne.—You’re welcome.

  Guder Marye.—Good morning.

  Gut is was ich bescht duh.—Good is what I do best.

  Haldscht Schul fer die Handikap?—Do you teach at a school for the handicapped?

  Heem geh?—Go home?

  Ich geh in die Handikap Schul.—I’m going to the handicap school.

  Ich hab.—I did.

  Kummet rei.—Come in.

  Kumm mol, loss uns geh.—Come on, let’s go.

  Kumm uff.—Come on.

  Loss uns fische geh.—Let’s go fishing.

  Loss uns Heemet geh.—Let’s go home.

  Mir esse un no gehne mir.—We’ll eat and then we’ll go.

  Net im Haus. Is sell so hatt zu verschteh?—Not in the house. Is that so hard to understand?

  Was iss es?—What is it?

  Wie bischt du Heit?—How are you today?

  Witt du ans Allen’s geh?—Do you want to go to Allen’s?

  Witt fische geh?—You want to go fishing?

  Ya, en verhuddelder Hund.—Yes, a confused dog.

  Ya, in paar Minudde.—Yes, in a minute.

  * Glossary taken from Eugene S. Stine, Pennsylvania German Dictionary (Birdsboro, PA: Pennsylvania German Society, 1996), and the usage confirmed by an instructor of the Pennsylvania Dutch language.

  Acknowledgments

  To my family, co-workers, and friends—If life tempts me to doubt God’s faithfulness, I remember you.

  Our teen broke a toe in the spring of 2010, and because of that, my husband and son came in contact with a wonderful physician—John A. Alsobrook, MD, Northeast Georgia Physicians Group, Sports Medicine, Buford, Georgia. As an author writing a trauma scene, I couldn’t let such a great resource go untapped. I’m very grateful to say that the doctor was willing to return a call from someone looking for help with fictional characters in trauma. Each time I needed advice, Dr. Alsobrook was truly informative, focused, and fun to work with, which means he will be called upon again .

  To my Old Order Amish friends, who provide insight and direction before I begin to write each story, correction on any inaccuracies in the manuscript once it’s complete, and our own hiddy where we can chat, as well as good food, fun fellowship, and a cozy bed to sleep in—Thank you!

  To my expert in the Pennsylvania Dutch language, who wishes to remain anonymous—Your input is invaluable. It may not feel like it to you, but authenticity gives great pleasure to readers.

  To those who work so diligently on every aspect of making each book a success, my team, WaterBrook Multnomah Publishing Group—It’d take a nonfiction book to express how honored I am to know and work with each of you! From marketing to sales to production to the editorial department, you are so much more to me than time allows me to express. From the president to the newest savvy person added to the house, you’re all making a difference in the lives of authors and readers.

  To Shannon Marchese, my editor—I believe that if I were to write for you until I’m a hundred years old, I’d still be soaking up your knowledge and learning how to craft a better and stronger story.

  To Carol Bartley, my line editor—I always look forward to the amazing polishing job you do. Your expertise, open-mindedness, gentleness, and humor strengthen so much more than the story. I trust you, and I take pleasure in working with you.

  To Steve Laube, my agent—My time and creativity would be buried under the work load of business if it weren’t for you. I shove things onto your plate and return to what I love doing, writing. Thank you for being so knowledgeable, trustworthy, and understanding of an author’s dream—to write!

  To Marci Burke, my good friend and critique partner—In our seven years of working together, you have yet to let me down even once.

  To my sons—When I’m in isolation mode during writing, it is your taps on my office door, early-morning phone calls, and spur-of-the-moment visits to whisk me away for a meal or a game that remind me I’m loved. And to my two daughters-in-law—You are help when I need it, laughter when I don’t expect it, and strength when I have none of my own.

  And lastly, to my husband—Every year and decade we celebrate together, I understand more that it’ll never be enough. I’m content with many things but never when it comes to having time with you.

  About the Author

  CINDY WOODSMALL is a New York Times best-selling author whose connection with the Amish community has been featured on ABC Nightline and on the front page of the Wall Street Journal. She is the author of the Sisters of the Quilt series as well as The Bridge of Peace, The Hope of Refuge, and The Sound of Sleigh Bells. Her ability to authentically capture the heart of her characters comes from her real-life connections with Amish Mennonite and Old Order Amish families. Cindy lives in Georgia with her husband, their three sons, and two amazing daughters-in-law.

  To keep up with new releases, book signings, and other news, visit Cindy at www.cindywoodsmall.com.

  THE BRIDGE OF PEACE

  PUBLISHED BY WATERBROOK PRESS

  12265 Oracle Boulevard, Suite 200

  Colorado Springs, Colorado 80921

  The characters and events in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual persons or events is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2010 by Cindy Woodsmall

  Copyright © 2010 Excerpt from The Harvest of Grace by Cindy Woodsmall

  Copyright © 2010 by Cindy Woodsmall. Excerpted by permission of WaterBrook Press, a division of Random House, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form
or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published in the United States by WaterBrook Multnomah, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Random House Inc., New York.

  WATERBROOK and its deer colophon are registered trademarks of Random House Inc.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Woodsmall, Cindy.

  The bridge of peace : an Ada’s House novel / Cindy Woodsmall.— 1st ed.

  p. cm.

  eISBN: 978-0-307-45946-6

  1. Amish women—Fiction. 2. Women teachers—Fiction. 3. Amish—Pennsylvania— Fiction. I. Title.

  PS3623.O678B75 2010

  813′.6—dc22

  2010024570

  v3.0_r1