Dark Crossings

by Marta Perry

  Samuel brushed at the front of his jacket. “My current companions don’t value cleanliness.”

  “What do they value?”

  “Money, guns, drugs and the money to buy more drugs.”

  “It is no joking matter, Samuel. Do you know what you’re doing?”

  “Don’t worry about me, Isaac.”

  Crossing to where his brother stood, Isaac laid a hand on his shoulder. “How can I not?”

  “I shouldn’t be here. I don’t know why I came.”

  “I’m glad you did.” Isaac gazed into Samuel’s eyes and saw the affection they’d always shared.

  “Is your little teacher all right? I’m sorry I spooked your horse. I never saw you until it was too late.”

  Isaac frowned. “That was you?”

  “I said I’m sorry. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “Lena was not harmed, but you frightened us half to death. What were you thinking?”

  “I had only a short window of time to make contact with my supervisor. We had arranged to meet each week over in the next town. That day I had trouble getting away. If I didn’t show, I knew the department would come looking for me with guns drawn. I didn’t want them rushing to my rescue and having all my work go down the drain. Not yet. I don’t have enough to make a case that will stick.”

  “This undercover work is too dangerous, Samuel. Why must you do it?”

  “Because I believe it’s important. The Department of Wildlife has invested a lot of manpower and money into shutting down poaching rings, but these people are careful. They confiscated my cell phone and search my stuff all the time. I haven’t met the ringleader yet. We want the brains behind this operation, not the small fry.”

  “God is the judge of all men. Can you not leave justice to him?”

  “Spoken like the good Amish fellow you are.”

  “Do not mock me, Samuel.”

  His brother gave him a wry smile. “I don’t. I wish I had your faith that everything turns out the way it should in the end. I, on the other hand, like to see justice done before the crooks die of old age.”

  “I pray for you every day, as do all in our family.”

  “While you’re praying, you might add a request for a new wife. Ruby needs a woman in her life and so do you. You’re getting dishpan hands, bro.” With a jaunty salute, Samuel strode away and vanished into a narrow neck of woods at the back of the barn.

  Pray for a new wife? Isaac shook his head. His brother had developed an odd sense of humor in his years among the Englische.

  Isaac tried to dismiss the idea, but it wouldn’t leave him alone. What kind of woman would he pray for if he did such a thing?

  Someone kind, who shared his love of God and his Amish faith, for certain. But what else?

  She would have to love his daughter as her own. It didn’t matter if she was pretty or not, but a pleasant face would be nice. Lena’s delicate features came to mind. She was everything he needed.

  He was being foolish. Isaac went back to hanging up the laundry. He tossed a sheet over the line and spread it evenly before pinning it in place. He was content with his life as it was. Pray for a wife—why would he do that?

  “If two people are meant for each other, God will bring them together.” He ducked under the sheet and came face-to-face with Lena.

  She took a quick step back and looked around. “Who are you talking to?”

  * * *

  ISAAC WAS LOOKING AT HER with the strangest expression on his face. Lena wasn’t sure what to make of it. “Isaac, are you all right?”

  He blinked hard. “Ja, I’m fine. What are you doing here? Is Ruby okay?”

  “Ruby is fine,” she quickly assured him. “She has gone to do her chores.”

  “Gut.” He spun around, walked into the clothesline and struggled to keep his balance for a second before whipping the sheet out of his way and picking up an empty laundry basket.

  Not knowing what to do, she reached for the basket. “Can I help you?”

  “Nay, I have said I’m fine, and I am,” he bellowed.

  She took two steps back. “Forgive me. I can see you would rather not have company at the moment.”

  He visibly gathered himself and said in a moderate tone, “I’m sorry. I was distracted. Ruby’s teacher is always welcome in our home. What can I do for you?”

  Lena caught sight of the girl standing behind him. Ruby shook her head and folded her hands together in a pleading gesture.

  Clearly, this might not be the best time to broach the subject of her newfound speech. Lena said, “I would like to give Ruby a book of drawing instructions, but I wanted to check with you first.”

  The child sagged with relief and smiled.

  Isaac continued toward the house. Lena had to rush to keep up with him. He asked, “Do you think it a suitable book for her?”

  “I do, but I’m not her parent.”

  “Then I’m sure it is fine.” He paused at the back door. “Thank you for stopping by.” A second later, he was in the house and the door was closed in her face.

  What on earth was he trying to hide?

  Ruby ran forward and threw her arms around Lena’s waist in a fierce hug. Lena patted her back. “You will have to tell him soon, Ruby. If you don’t, I must.”

  Looking up at her, Ruby shook her head in denial.

  Lena cupped the child’s face. “He has prayed for this day, I know it in my heart. You do him a great disservice by staying silent now. He will rejoice. I know he will.”

  Ruby relinquished her hold on her and slowly walked into the house. Lena had no idea if she intended to tell her father the good news or not. Nor did she have any idea why the child would want to stay silent. There was so much here she didn’t understand.

  Lena left Isaac’s house and walked home. The evening air had turned chilly. She pulled her coat collar up around her neck to block the wind. When she arrived, her father was sitting at the table even though supper wasn’t ready.

  She glanced at Anna. Her sister wore a worried expression, and kept clasping and unclasping her hands. Something was wrong.

  Her father stood. “John Miller and the school board members stopped by this evening. Since you were not home and no one knew where you had gone, he asked that you come to his home tomorrow night at six o’clock for a special meeting of the board.”

  Lena braced herself to hear the worst. “Did he say what the meeting was about?”

  “Nay, he did not, but he warned me that you may face a shunning if you do not appear. What have you done to shame us, Lena?”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ON THE WAY to John Miller’s house, Lena passed his furniture shop. The Closed sign hung in the window, but the door stood open slightly. She saw Isaac Bowman inside.

  Seated on a tall stool in front of a workbench, he was bent over something she couldn’t see, concentrating intently. It was late and there was no one else about. Unobserved, she watched as he used a mallet and chisel with meticulous care. What was he making?

  Curiosity, and a burning desire to put off her meeting with the school board, prompted her to step through the open door. As she did, Isaac held up his project. It was the lid of a chest, with a beautifully carved bouquet of roses inside an oval frame.

  She knew from her conversations with Ruby that Isaac was a wood-carver, but Lena had had no idea he possessed such skill. Could a man capable of creating suc
h beauty also be capable of illegally slaughtering deer?

  The time had come for her to ask him outright. Did she possess enough courage? Would he understand her suspicions and forgive her if she was wrong, or would she ruin the friendship growing between them?

  He must have sensed her presence for he suddenly turned in her direction. His eyes widened in surprise.

  “Gut-n-owed, Lena.”

  “Good evening to you, too, Isaac.”

  “If you are looking for John, he has gone home.”

  Lena knew she should leave, but something made her step closer. “Danki. I will seek him there. You seem to be hard at work.”

  “Happily so. My orders are piling up fast.”

  “I see why. Your work is exceptional.”

  Like a moth to the light of a lantern, she felt irresistibly drawn to this man for reasons she didn’t understand.

  Isaac ran his hand across the surface of the carving. “My grandfather was a master wood-carver. He taught me to respect the wood and to try to understand it.”

  Lena moved across the space until she stood at his elbow. She gazed in wonder at the intricately carved flowers and leaves. “What did he mean when he said you had to understand the wood?”

  “Grandfather believed God has placed a story inside each piece of wood and it is up to the carver to find that story.”

  She ran her fingers over the crisp edges of the carving. “How do you go about finding it?”

  “Most of the time, I stare at a piece for a long while. I run my hands over it to feel the grain and texture, and then it occurs to me what the wood might like to say.”

  Few people would have guessed that there was a sensitive and intuitive soul inside Isaac’s big burly frame. She looked at him in a new light and with new respect. “How did this piece tell you it held a bouquet of roses?”

  He laughed. “The woman who ordered this chest wanted a bouquet of roses on the lid. I talked it over with the wood and the wood agreed. Would you like to see some of my other pieces?”

  Lena grinned and nodded. “I’d love to.”

  He led the way to the back of the shop, where furniture in all stages of completion was stacked in neat rows. Isaac pulled out a large headboard. The finials had been carved to resemble pinecones, while crossed pine branches were etched into the center of the piece.

  Impressed with his skill, Lena said, “I see now where Ruby gets her talent for drawing.”

  “She tells me that you are an artist, too.”

  Lena looked at him with joy. “She spoke to you?”

  “Of course not. She wrote that you enjoy sketching.”

  Disappointed, Lena shrugged. “I enjoy sketching, but my gift is a small one.”

  He studied her face intently. She realized they were alone together inside the deserted building, and her pulse quickened. He stood close enough that she could smell his masculine scent over the aroma of fresh cut wood. His eyes darkened as he gazed at her. She had the oddest sensation that he wanted to kiss her. Would she let him?

  He suddenly stepped back. “Over here is a fireplace mantel I finished yesterday. I knew as soon as I saw this piece of wood that it needed a leaping buck on each end.”

  Isaac opened a cardboard box and pulled aside the packing material.

  Lena stared at the mantel, stunned. It was a beautifully carved piece of oak. She wasn’t shocked by the skill displayed; she was shocked to recognize the animal he had etched into the wood. It was Snagglehead.

  There was no mistaking the buck’s unusual, down-turned, twisted antlers. The rendition was amazingly accurate. Isaac would have needed more than a fleeting glimpse of the buck to portray him so well.

  Lena glanced from the mantel to Isaac, who stood waiting for her to comment. Snagglehead had been killed right after Isaac came to town. If he had poached the deer and taken the head, he would have had ample opportunity to study the animal’s unique horns.

  Her stomach churned with anxiety. Did she really want to know if he was one of the poachers?

  Isaac’s smile vanished. “Is something wrong?”

  “Lena, there you are.” John Miller stood in the doorway to the shop, an expression of displeasure on his face. “Come along, I’d like to get this meeting over with as soon as possible.”

  She came back to the present with a painful thump. She had been called to answer to the board for her actions, but she didn’t know why. Had John discovered she’d gone behind his back by contacting Wilfred’s family? That was the most likely reason. She mentally prepared herself to beg the board’s forgiveness and admit her sin as she followed John to his front door.

  * * *

  ISAAC PUZZLED OVER Lena’s reaction to his mantel. He was particularly pleased with this piece. It had taken all his skill to convey an animal in motion. Lena seemed to like his other work.

  Maybe she didn’t approve of carving animals in general. Some might consider he was creating graven images by doing so. Perhaps the bishop of this district forbid such things. Surely John would have mentioned it if that were the case. Isaac would have to confer with the bishop before he joined this new congregation. It might not be the church for him.

  A half hour later he was still working, but kept an eye out for Lena’s return. Suddenly he saw her rush past the door with her hands covering her face. The sound of broken sobs reached him.

  Dropping his tools, he raced out the door after her. “Lena, what is wrong?”

  He caught up with her beneath a streetlight near the shop. She stopped and dropped her hands to her sides. “I’ve been fired.”

  “What?” He gaped at her in stunned surprise.

  “I’ve been fired. I’m to finish out the week, which is only tomorrow, and then a new teacher will take over. All because I told Wilfred Cummings’s granddaughter about the poaching even though I knew John wanted me to ignore it. I don’t know how he found out.” Her eyes suddenly flashed with anger. “Unless you told him.”

  “Me? Why would I tell him?”

  “To make sure I didn’t report it to anyone else.”

  He didn’t know how to respond. She took a step closer and jabbed a finger into his chest. “Did you tell John? Did you kill Snagglehead and Goliath and who knows how many other deer? Tell me!”

  She was like a spitting kitten attacking a bear. He took two steps back, but still she advanced. “I want the truth, Isaac!”

  He held his hands up. “Lena, calm down.”

  “I am calm, and I want to know how you could carve Snagglehead so exactly without staring at his severed head!”

  This couldn’t be happening. The woman was unbalanced. He grabbed her arms. “You are not making any sense. Who is Shaggyhead?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “He’s the deer we found dead in the woods the first day you came to my school. The one you carved so beautifully into that fireplace mantel in John’s workshop. You couldn’t portray him so exactly from a glimpse of him in the wild. What do you have to say for yourself?”

  Isaac’s anger rose to match hers. She believed he was a poacher! And to think he was beginning to fall for her. He gripped her hand and pulled her along after him. “Come with me.”

  “Let me go.”

  He didn’t slow down. A kitten was really no match for an angry bear. “Not until you’ve seen what I have to show you.”

  “Do you have a mantel with Goliath’s head etched in it, too?”

  He didn’t reply until he was inside the shop by his workbench.
Releasing her, he pulled open a drawer and shook a piece of paper under her nose. “This is how I knew what Bumblehead looked like.”

  “Snagglehead.” She snatched the paper from his hand.

  Lena didn’t want to give Isaac the satisfaction of looking at the paper he shoved at her, but her angry outburst was beginning to wane and her common sense had started to creep back in. For a guilty man, he looked very indignant.

  She opened the paper and stared at it. Her stomach dropped to the level of her shoes. It was one of her sketches, one that she’d done of Snagglehead last year.

  Biting her lip, she looked up into Isaac’s smoldering eyes. “Where did you get this?”

  “I found it on the ground near the school.”

  Lena folded her arms. “On the day you had in your sights the biggest buck you’d ever seen? What luck that something scared him away.”

  “How could you know that?” Isaac folded his arms to mimic her stance. He looked much more imposing than she did.

  “I was there. I was in the bell tower of the school. I saw it all.”

  “You scared the deer away?”

  She raised her chin. “I did. You were hunting illegally.”

  “Is that so?” He arched an eyebrow.

  He looked so sure of himself, her confidence began to seep away. “From my vantage point, it looked as if you were.”

  “But from your vantage point you could not see the legal wild boar permit and tag in my pocket.”

  “Wild boar? There weren’t any wild boar in the field that day.” She’d seen feral pigs numerous times in the past and knew what a nuisance they presented, but she hadn’t noticed any when she’d seen Isaac for the first time.

  “No, they weren’t in the field. They were just beyond the trees and moving toward a cornfield where I have permission to hunt.”

  She wiped at the moisture on her face and sniffed once. “So you weren’t aiming at the deer?”

  “I was scouting the area. I saw your big deer and I did put my sights on him, but he wasn’t what I was after. However…”