The Bridge of Peace (41 page)

“Hi, Lena.” Christian removed his hat. “Need a hand? I took off early today, hoping to catch you.”

“I’d rather walk, but denki.”

He glanced to Grey and then studied Lena. “Are you sure there isn’t something I could help you with?”

She wrapped her arms around the oversized box. “I need to go.”

“I guess it’s ’cause I’m new to the district, but I don’t understand much of what took place on Saturday, except that Dwayne’s a jerk. I’ve been living at his house since arriving here, and I didn’t need to see what happened Saturday to know that. Seems like you could at least go for a ride with me.”

Noises came from the woods. She didn’t want to go anywhere with either Grey or Christian, but she wasn’t about to stay on this long stretch of isolated roadway.

“I could use a ride home.”

“That’s a good start.” Christian opened the door and took the box from her.

She nodded to Grey. “Thanks for checking on me. You don’t need to again.” For a thousand reasons she could list without even pausing to think, she loved Grey. If he had loved her, they could have been unbelievably happy. She forced a smile. “I really am okay.”

“I began a bridge.”

She wished he would leave well enough alone. “And maybe one day, just from one neighbor to another, I’ll cross it while at Allen’s.” She got in and closed the door.

Christian seemed quite amiable as he drove her home. But the trip lasted too long. Finally he pulled onto her driveway, got out, opened the buggy door for her, and helped her down.

He grabbed the box off the seat. “It’s been a rough few days for you, so I’ll leave for now, but maybe another time?”

She didn’t want to be rude, but why was he doing this? Did he and Dwayne have some sort of bet going on? “I appreciate it, but no. I’m sorry.”

He passed the container to her. “It was worth a try.”

She went inside and set the box on an end table. Picking out parts of the broken vase, she was haunted by dozens of memories of being a teacher.

Moments later someone banged on the door. Grey, she suspected. Ignoring it, she continued digging for pieces. The door opened, and Grey eased inside.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I … I’m not letting you hide or run.”

Her face flushed. “Me? You’re the one hiding your true self, and I know why you’re doing it.”

“I say you don’t, but explain it to me.”

“No. All you want is to pick apart my reasoning. You’re a nice guy. Nice guys do too much to keep from hurting someone’s feelings, including backing themselves into a relationship.”

“Ridiculous! I don’t know anyone who’s that nice of a guy. Certainly not me.”

The back door opened, and Nicky flew into the house, barking angrily at Grey as he raised his voice at Lena. A quick glance said her Daed had come in from the shop. “Something I can help with?”

Grey turned to him. “Your daughter is deaf. And if it’s all the same with you, I’m not leaving until she hears me.”

“I’ve heard you! You’re the one not listening! Tell him to go home, Daed.”

“What are you—five?” Grey asked. “Stand your own ground and talk to me like an adult. They’re words, Lennie. Choose them in your mind and share them. Or is that only for students and people you want to mold into being who you think they need to be while you keep yourself in knots for not being perfect?”

Nicky growled at him and barked. Her Daed scolded the dog and pointed outside, but Nicky didn’t obey.

Lena snapped her fingers. “Hush.” Her dog quieted and sat. “My day has been bad enough without you coming here to argue!”

“Then stop arguing. Besides, do you think you’d be better off if I let you believe lies about how I feel?”

As Grey raised his voice again, Nicky growled at him. Daed looked from Lena to Grey. “I … I’ll just be in my shop until one of you can hear the other. It’s too loud in here for me.”

Lena couldn’t believe it. Her Daed had taken up for her all her life. He left, pulling the door securely behind him.

She tossed the broken pieces of vase back into the box. “I know things you don’t think I know. Do you have any idea how many times I overheard you tell Allen that you felt sorry for me when I was growing up?”

“I never said that!”

“I know you did! You think I’m lying?”

Confusion lined his face as he studied her. “I don’t remember.” He paced the room. “Wait. I do remember. Kumm on, Lennie. I meant I felt sorry for you because you had Allen for a brother. I was giving him a hard time for being such a pain.”

“Why are you doing this? You never once felt anything for me until I threw myself at you, and even then you were busy trying to pawn me off on other men. You were hoping I’d find someone and leave you alone. You won’t change my mind because I know the truth of it, Grey. Now just drop it and go home.”

“You really think I would act interested because I’m nice?”

“Oh, I know better than that. Acting interested only came after you were lonely, and even then I had to chase after you and start crying.”

He became still. “You … cared … before?”

“What? If you’d known, would you have altered your life to keep from hurting me?” She went to the front door and opened it.

He stood frozen, staring at her.

“Please, Grey.”

Without another word he left.

Thirty-Five

After Grey tucked Ivan in for the night, he walked outside. The cool air vibrated with the sounds of spring. Stars shone brightly in an almost cloudless sky. He walked to the creek, looking at the unfinished bridge. Moonlight filtered through the trees and danced on the moving water.

All he could think about was Lennie. He could hear her voice as if she were picnicking outside with her family or playing in the yard with the children.

He’d never thought of her romantically when they were younger. She’d been fifteen when he was twenty. He thought a lot of her and even remembered thinking whoever married her would be a very blessed man, but he wasn’t attracted to her. He’d never once considered that maybe it should be him.

He felt as if he’d been standing in a dark room filled with stuff. He couldn’t make out what was in it, but it felt familiar. The journey he and Lennie had taken was like someone had lit a kerosene lamp on the other end of the house and walked toward him. The closer the person came to him, the more he could clearly see. Every shadowy object in the room became a memory or feeling he’d carelessly stored and each one revealed one thing—his complete and undeniable attraction to Lennie. But what he wanted from their relationship was more important to him than anything the physical draw could give. He wanted … no, he needed friendship, the kind he could never possess without her.

“God,” he picked up a rock and tossed it into the creek. “I’m glad we argued. But she’s hurting. It’s been an unfair journey for her, unfair to lose her school, unfair for Dwayne to get away with his antics. Help her. Please intervene for her.” Following the creek, he walked on. “I’ve done what I could to make her hear me. I need You to open her eyes and ears to the truth. Search my heart and let her know what’s in it, Father. If she sees my love, nothing will ever separate us again.”

Deborah surveyed Ada’s House from her spot in the large booth on the lawn. It was a Thursday evening in late April, and Springtime at Ada’s House was well under way. People were taking tours through the Amish homestead, buying crafts and furniture at will. Others were sitting in rocking chairs that lined the front porch. Many bought desserts and homemade ice cream. It’d been warm last weekend, but another springtime dip in temps made it feel a little nippy to eat ice cream, in Deborah’s opinion. At least heavy coats were no longer needed.

Some of the older adults were playing rounds of checkers while visiting with each other. At the top of each hour, Ada and Lori led children in playing old-fashioned yard games. Ada’s House was busy, but with the few extra helpers she’d hired, thankfully it wasn’t panicky busy like last fall. Just right. She poured hot chocolate into a mug and went to the sidewalk near the road.

Jonathan pulled the hay wagon to a stop and jumped down.

“Hey, Little Debbie.”

She passed him the cup and winked at him before moving to the tailgate to help folks get out.

As the last person stepped down, she thought she heard a phone ringing. Not someone’s cell but the one in the shanty near Ada’s barn. She turned to Jonathan. “Ada’s phone?”

“I think so, but it won’t be Lena. I’m sure it’s someone wanting to know directions or hours. The answering machine we set up will handle it.”

“I wish she’d call.”

“Lena going to Philly whenever life becomes too painful started more than ten years ago. She’s not one to call while she’s gone.”

“It just makes me sick to know how bad she’s hurting.”

“Me too. If I know her, she’s doing what she needs to do to find some peace. Then she’ll be back safe and sound.” He pointed. “But it was a good idea to pull Israel into helping while she’s gone. It’s bound to help distract him.”

Israel brought his rig to a halt. Jonathan passed her his mug and moved to the back of the hay wagon and helped people down. Deborah went to get Israel a cup of hot chocolate.

A lot of the visitors were new to Ada’s House. But she found it encouraging to see so many regulars who began coming in the fall, like the man who stood at the booth chatting with Lori. She sat on the counter, talking nonstop.

He always wore threadbare clothes but spent a few dollars each time, buying something at the booth. He’d never gone inside, but he seemed to like catching a few words with Cara more than anyone else.

Deborah went behind the counter with Ephraim. While he rang up another sale, she spoke to him in Pennsylvania Dutch, asking if Cara had remembered to get the next batch of miniature pies out of the oven. He said that was what she was doing now. A few moments later Cara arrived.

“Oh, perfect timing. Let’s set them on the far side of the register and then move them to the container.”

The man tilted his head. “Did you make those?”

Cara wrinkled her nose. “Nope, but I kept them from burning.”

He laughed. “How come all the Pennsylvania Dutch chattering stops when they speak to you?”

“Mom don’t know it very well,” Lori said before Cara could answer. “I’m doing pretty good learning it, though.”

“Learning it?”

“We only been here a year. Moved from New York.”

Cara placed her hand on Lori’s head. “That’s enough, Lorabean.”

Lori nodded.

Cara pulled several whole lemons out of the hidden pocket of her apron. “We needed more lemon slices for hot tea, but I couldn’t find the knife.”

Deborah held it up. “Sorry. I snatched it.”

“You want to see my dog, mister?” Lori pointed to the front porch where Better Days was tethered, watching folks peacefully and enjoying an occasional pat on the head. “Before I started learning the language, we was living in a barn ’cause we found the address of Dry Lake in a diary, but Mom didn’t have no money for food or a house. But I didn’t mind ’cause I found a whole litter of puppies.”

The man blinked. “In … a barn, Cara?”

Cara studied the man, as if a little offended by him. She lifted her daughter and passed her to Ephraim. He nodded and took Lori inside. Deborah assumed he was going to give her a lecture on not telling strangers everything she knew. She moved each pie into the clear plastic display rack.

“I … I didn’t mean to get your little girl in trouble. But …”

Deborah paused. Cara cut him a look, reminding Deborah of a side to her she rarely showed anymore.

“Too many questions,” Cara assured the man.

He nodded. “Sorry. It’s just odd to see … I mean, a woman your age not knowing the language.”

“Whatever.” Cara shifted. “You can’t believe anything children say.”

Jonathan walked up. “Uh, forget something, Little Debbie?”

“Oh, Israel’s drink!” She passed it to Jon, who walked it back to Israel. Ada stood near the rig, talking with Israel.

“I don’t mean to cause no problems. But … you weren’t raised Amish?”

Cara paused, staring at him.

He lowered his eyes, his hands trembling as Deborah had seen them do before. “You’re … clearly not happy with me, and it’s my fault for being nosy.” The man walked off and then turned back. “It’s clear you don’t want anybody knowing about your life. I … I won’t say a word of what I know. Your mother wasn’t the only one good at keeping secrets.”