The Kissing Bridge

by Tricia Goyer

  “Kootenai Falls?”

  Millie paused. “Do you mean that Caleb didn’t tell you where we were going?”

  “On a wagon ride. That’s all I know.”

  Millie laughed. “Usually Caleb is focused on the destination and on being first. But it sounds as if this time he’s more focused on the journey . . . and who’s sitting by his side. All of us were amazed that he didn’t mind his wagon trailing behind today.”

  Rebecca’s lungs burned again, but this time it was from holding her breath. “I think that you’re making too much of it—making too much of us, Millie—but I am excited about the falls. I’ve always loved them. And I’ve never been to a swinging bridge!”

  They made it off the hill and started walking back through the thicker treed area. “Maybe I am making much of nothing, or maybe not.” Millie paused and held up one of the pinecones between two fingers. “Rebecca, will you take a look at this? All those little nubs hide a seed. That means just one of these pinecones has the potential to create a forest. Isn’t that amazing that God did that? His potential . . . you just never know.”

  As they walked, the scent of food cooking met them, and the voices grew louder. Rebecca’s heart skipped a beat when she heard Caleb’s chuckle.

  Millie whistled under her breath. “Don’t those elk burgers smell good?”

  “Elk?” Rebecca slowed her steps slightly.

  “You’ve never eaten elk before? What about moose?”

  Rebecca cleared her throat. “I’m pretty sure I’ve had neither.”

  “Wonderful. Then this whole trip will be an adventure for you! Personally I love elk, especially with extra ketchup.”

  CHAPTER

  12

  After dinner, they finished setting up camp and then put all their food into plastic totes and hoisted them high up into the trees.

  “We don’t want to tempt any critters,” Amos explained.

  Rebecca glanced up at the tree. “That doesn’t give me any comfort.”

  Yet as the evening darkened and they toasted marshmallows around the campfire, Rebecca relaxed. The woods around them were quiet, and even though her stomach was full from dinner, she couldn’t help but think about tomorrow’s huckleberry pancakes.

  “Sitting here, I remember being in Indiana doing the same. I remember sitting alongside Marianna and some of our other friends at Youth Singings. We gathered around a fire just like this.”

  “With marshmallows?” Annie chuckled.

  “Ja. Sometimes.” Rebecca shrugged and tucked her stick farther into the flames. “Although I haven’t been to a singing in over a year—uh, in a while.”

  Millie didn’t roast a marshmallow, but she did listen intently. “Tell us more about Indiana. That’s one place I’ve never been.”

  Rebecca told them about Shipshewana, the Amish community there, and all the visitors. “My oma said that it used to be a quiet place. Not anymore. Buses of tourists come in, and they enjoy the food, the farms, and always seem to have their cameras out. I think that’s why I like Montana. People don’t make a spectacle of my Amish dress . . . although I have to admit it did help with tips.”

  Her new friends chuckled, and Rebecca couldn’t believe she’d admitted the last part. “One of my uncles makes rocking chairs,” she continued on, “and they’re usually sold before he’s finished. Sometimes there’s even a waiting list.”

  “I remember your uncle,” Ike commented. “He told me before that he’d like to come visit Montana sometime. Is everyone jealous that you got here first?”

  Ike’s face glowed in the light of the campfire, and Rebecca didn’t know how to respond. She’d forgotten that Marianna’s uncle had lived around the area, too, before he moved to Montana ten years ago. She’d forgotten that he knew many people there, including members of her family. She’d forgotten that even though the Amish didn’t have e-mail or talk much on the phone, news spread from one part of the country to the other with letters that noted concern. She glanced to Millie, wondering if the older woman would tell them the truth if she refused.

  “Well, my family . . . They don’t really know that this is where I’ve come. It was time for me to get away, to make some changes in my life . . . I . . .” She swallowed hard, wondering how to say the rest when the rumbling of a motorcycle caught her attention.

  “What in the world?” Ike jumped up and moved to the roadway. Caleb and Amos soon followed.

  Annie’s eyes reflected concern. “Who do you think it is?”

  Millie was the only one who didn’t seem fazed by it. “I bet it’s just some kids who were out joyriding and took a wrong turn. There are all types of dirt roads and trails up here. If you don’t know exactly where you’re going, it’s easy to get lost.”

  They watched, and sure enough, two dirt bikes came up the road. Ike signaled to them, and they pulled over. The guys talked to the bikers for a while, and then Ike signaled to Annie. A minute later Annie was rummaging through one of the totes. After handing the bikers something, she returned to the fire.

  “Just two kids. Got lost and didn’t realize they weren’t heading the right way, and couldn’t understand why their cell phones weren’t getting a signal. Thank goodness I’d packed up some protein bars. They hadn’t eaten all day.”

  “That was nice of you to help,” Rebecca commented, wondering if the others would remember what they’d last been talking about. Instead Caleb and Amos returned and bid everyone good night.

  While Ike said he’d stay up to put out the fire, the rest of them made their way to their tents.

  Rebecca climbed inside hers and quickly changed into sweatpants and a sweatshirt. She snuggled into her sleeping bag and turned off her flashlight, trying to process where she was and all that had happened. She’d planned her leaving, her schooling, and her trip . . . but it was amazing how one quick decision to visit Marianna had changed everything. Now here she was sleeping in the middle of the Montana wilderness with strangers who were quickly becoming friends.

  Rebecca curled on her side and tucked the small travel pillow under her cheek and remembered something Oma had once told her—that even when one set her plans, God determined her path, or something like that. And as she drifted off to sleep, Rebecca determined that the path ahead, the one they’d be traveling over tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day, wouldn’t put too big of a wrench in her plans. She’d have to see to that.

  Rebecca fought against the darkness, awakening with a charley horse in her leg. “Ah, ouch!” she cried out before she could force her lips closed. She kicked out of her sleeping bag, ignoring the nippy night air, and reached her hands around her sweat-panted leg, but it did no good. Before she realized what was happening, the tent flap unzipped and she could make out the grayed image of Caleb’s face.

  She reached down and wrapped her hands around her calf. “It’s . . . ow . . . a cramp.”

  “Charley horse?”

  She nodded and he motioned for her to turn so he could reach her leg. She released her leg. Strong arms wrapped around her calf; he squeezed and rubbed, working to ease the cramping muscles. She wanted to cry out more, but didn’t want to wake the others. Instead Rebecca pressed her lips tight and fought back the tears. It took a few minutes for the spasms to pass. Yet even as she relaxed, he continued rubbing, soothing away all memory of the pain.

  He looked at her curiously in her burgundy Hoosier sweatpants and sweatshirt, and her dark hair she’d braided in one long braid. She touched it now, wondering what he thought of her without a sleeping kapp.

  “Better now?”

  She nodded and stretched out her leg. “Mmm, yes.” She gathered her sleeping bag and pulled it to her chest as if that would protect her. As if it was a shield, hiding the pounding of her heart.

  The moonlight flowed around him, and his hair stuck up in all directions.

  “I’m sorry I woke you.” Her voice was no more than a whisper.

  “I thought you were getting eaten by a bear.�
�

  She cocked her head. “You would have fought a bear to save me?”

  “Of course. It would have been quite the story to tell.”

  She chuckled. Even though the dim light made it hard to see the humor in his gaze, she could hear it in his voice.

  She’d been dreaming that she’d been running through these woods, trying to get to Portland. For the last year she’d been anxious about getting to school. She couldn’t wait to finish her online classes and just start. But in her dream she’d been running from something, not to something. She’d been running away from the realization that her feelings for Caleb were growing. It was the very reason why she’d distanced herself from so many at home.

  “I better get back to my tent. I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.”

  “Ja, danki.” She waited for him to exit, and then zipped her tent closed. She couldn’t think of many Amish men who would have done that—come running toward what they thought was a bear. Caleb was brave in so many ways.

  Rebecca snuggled back into her sleeping bag, wondering what tomorrow would bring and trying to imagine that moment when she got on the train in Whitefish and headed to Portland for good. A twinge struck her heart; in a way it made her sadder thinking of that than when she’d left Indiana. Of course, most of her new friends didn’t know the truth. Maybe once she told them, they’d be happy to see her go for good.

  She hated deceiving them. If her decisions put a wedge between an established friendship—like hers and Marianna’s—what hope did she have of these days turning into anything more than just a sweet memory? Some people were just in your life for a season. She’d have to think of this trip as just that: a fun time that filled in the days between her transition. Hoping they could be anything more would just hurt her heart . . . and could lead to hurts on the other side too.

  CHAPTER

  13

  Caleb opened his eyes, wondering if he had dreamed that Rebecca had been crying out in the night. He lay there a minute remembering how she’d gotten a charley horse and remembering how he’d rubbed her leg. Growing up, his sister closest to his age, Bethany, had often had the same problem, and he’d learned to rub her leg just to keep her quiet. He must have still been half asleep to have been brave enough to rub Rebecca’s leg like that. Thankfully, she’d been wearing sweatpants, most likely because she was afraid of getting cold in Montana.

  He turned over and let out a low moan. Lying next to his pillow was a stack of the letters from his mem. Amos still slept—or at least he pretended to. Why didn’t his friend get the hint? He didn’t want to think about what was happening in Indiana. He didn’t want to feel the guilt over what he’d left behind. Who he’d left behind.

  Caleb picked them up, preparing to toss them into his duffel bag, when he noticed the second envelope from the top was open. He sat up in the tent and turned it over in his hands. Who had opened it . . . and why?

  On the back was a note written in Amos’ scribble: I’m sorry. I thought this was a letter from my mem until I opened and started to read. You might want to read it.

  Caleb blew out a breath. He wanted to knock Amos on the side of the head. Instead he pulled out the letter and began to read.

  Dear Caleb,

  You haven’t written home lately, and the phone number you gave me to leave a message on just rings and rings, but there is no answering machine that ever picks up. I thought if you had read last week’s letter, you would have called home. There was someone who would have loved to talk to you on his birthday. Well, he couldn’t have talked, but at least he would have listened.

  Your dat is happy about the size of the crops. Harvest is going well, and the abundance has been a blessing from the Lord. We had the Schrock boys come over to help, and at the end they only accepted half of what Dat had been preparing to pay them. They said that he’s helped their family so many times. Yet another blessing.

  I was cleaning out your opa’s trunk, and you won’t believe what I found. There was a letter addressed to you! He wrote it just a few weeks before his stroke. I’m not sure why he never gave it to you. I think it would help you now. I have no doubt that you didn’t just go to Montana to hunt. I suspect that you went to think about your own future and what you want from it. Or maybe who you want.

  As you will see, the letter just stops abruptly. I’m not sure if there is more to it around here, maybe still inside the notebook he wrote it in? Or maybe he just got interrupted. If it’s inside a notebook, I might find it. I bet it’s around here somewhere yet. Your grandfather always was a collector. There are piles of magazines, notebooks, and manuals that I’m still going through. Why he collected manuals for cars and microwaves and DVD players, I’ll never know, except for the fact he liked understanding how the world worked.

  Your sisters tell me to send you a greeting from them. They wonder if you’ll be home for Christmas. I hope so. Anyway, I hope you find some peace in your grandfather’s letter. It helps me to know that he’d come to peace with much he’d been discontent about.

  Love, Mem

  He turned to the letter from his opa next.

  Dear Caleb, my namesake—

  I never had a son, but I want you to know that having you as a grandson made up for it. You’re my fishing buddy and my partner in crime. (You never did confess to your grandmother that we were the ones who broke her favorite flowerpot, did you?) I am proud of you in so many ways, but as I’ve been thinking of myself lately I’m not always proud of how I’ve been or how I’ve acted.

  I haven’t wronged you in any way, son, but maybe my words have. You see, it was easy to talk to you. To tell you all the areas I felt my life was lacking. I didn’t hold back when I told you that I wished I’d made it up to bear hunt in Canada. Or that I would have liked to try to swim in the ocean just once. Remember that time we figured out how long it would take to drive my buggy to New York City? What a poor Amishman I’ve been at times . . . tending my fields when my mind was off exploring a different land.

  I think to tell you this now, because I’ve seen the same look in your eyes. The look of wondering where you’d end up if you followed the sun into the horizon. The look that’s there when a motorcycle drives by. I always thought I was doing my rightful duty to my church by not acting on my longings. But what I see now is that because of them, I haven’t appreciated everything else that I hold in my grasp.

  Yer oma and I were married forty-seven years before her passing, and I miss her more each day. I wish now I’d been a better husband more than I ever wished for another thing. Does that make sense, son? Don’t look past love for adventure, as wonderful as I’ve made it up to be. Love is worth giving everything for. I know a great example of this—

  The letter ended there, and if Caleb hadn’t recognized his grandfather’s handwriting, he never would have believed these words could be his. Oma’s death had been hard on his grandfather. What had he been going to say next? Was he going to urge Caleb to find a good woman and settle down? Caleb had a feeling he was.

  “Maybe Mem put him up to it,” Caleb mumbled under his breath. If his mother had her mind set on anything, it was him settling down, finding a fraa, and having a son of his own. Caleb returned the letter to the stack and lay back down, scratching his head. Would Mem approve of Rebecca? Ja, she would. At least until she saw the wandering in her eyes too. Wandering that matched his own. He just wished he had the guts to ask Rebecca about it. He’d noticed how nervous she’d seemed last night when Ike mentioned her family in Indiana. Why had she left? What did her leaving mean? Had there been someone else? A suitor?

  Caleb’s head hurt too much thinking about all of that. The best thing to do was to get up, get going. Movement took his mind off all the things that weighed on his heart. He’d start the fire if Ike hadn’t already, check on the horses, and check on Rebecca too. That was the part he was most looking forward to. Maybe today he’d get more answers. Maybe today she’d start to take down the wall she’d so carefully built aro
und her heart.

  CHAPTER

  14

  Rebecca hadn’t been able to sleep much after she’d woken up in the night. She’d drifted in and out of sleep, remembering how it felt to have Caleb there, coming to her rescue . . . even if it was a charley horse that she battled instead of a bear.

  As soon as the first ray of morning light hit the tent, she’d been up, washed up at the creek the best she could, and dressed back in her Amish clothes and kapp. She was thankful for the coat that Millie had brought and wore it as she sat in front of the cold fire pit. She could see her breath as she exhaled and hoped the day was going to warm up. That was something she hadn’t thought about when she’d made the decision to come on the trip. When one was cold, there wasn’t a warm quilt to snuggle under by the woodstove. There wasn’t a way to draw a hot bath either.

  Rebecca took one of the sticks that they’d cut to roast marshmallows and used it to write in the dirt around the fire pit. C-A-L-E—

  Footsteps sounded from behind her, and she quickly brushed away the letters with a swipe of her shoe. She turned to see Caleb striding toward her.

  “Hi.” His voice was still scratchy from sleep.

  “Hi.” She smiled. “Just wake up?”

  Caleb scratched his head and brushed down his hair. “That noticeable?”

  She pointed to his shirt and the puckered hole in the front. She’d like to think he’d dressed quickly so he could hurry out of the tent to see her. “Missed a button.”

  He glanced down and then a smile tilted up the left corner of his lips. “Ja, well, growing up with all sisters, you’d think I would have learned how to dress myself.” He plopped onto the cold ground and lounged back against the log.

  Rebecca shook her head. Any other Amishman would be taking down the tents or gathering more wood for the morning’s fire. The Amishmen in Indiana worked from the moment they rose until bedtime. Unlike them, Caleb played as hard as he worked. And even more unnerving was the way he lounged on his side, fiddled with a stick, and then lifted his eyes to hers. “Have you been up long?”