The Kissing Bridge

by Tricia Goyer

  Rebecca chuckled, but she could see a cloud falling over Caleb’s face as he talked about his opa. She knew his loss was great. And look at me, acting as if I’m the only one who’s ever lost someone I’ve loved. She glanced from face to face in their small circle, realizing they’d all faced loss.

  Caleb pointed his thumbs to his chest. “Ja, no mushrooms for this guy. Just know what you’re getting into now, Rebecca. I do torment all those I care about.”

  Hearing him say her name pulled her attention back to the conversation, realizing that he’d just admitted his care caused heat to rise to her cheeks.

  But do you have any idea what you’re getting yourself into now, Caleb?

  Rebecca turned and headed back toward their campsite with a little hop in her step. She did believe he cared, she could see it in his eyes, but before they got on the wagon trail again, Caleb needed to understand what he was really signing himself up for.

  Caleb retired to the tent that night to find Amos waiting. Amos had a cross look on his face, and Caleb tried to ignore it. He couldn’t get his mind off of Rebecca’s hand on his cheek. It caused his stomach to warm even now.

  “I think you’ve got some explaining to do.” Amos’ voice was terse.

  “Do I owe you an apology for something?” Caleb glanced over at his friend. Then he snapped his fingers. “I’m sorry I didn’t have more insight to invite a younger, prettier companion for you on this trip—”

  “I’m not talking about me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You have some explaining to do with Rebecca. You were upset, really upset with her today, but have you told her yet about your opa? About what’s happening at home?”

  “Listen.” Caleb leaned in close, pushing his finger into Amos’ chest. “That’s none of your business.”

  “Really? Well, I care for her too . . . as a friend. And I think if she’s going to be honest about who she is and what you should expect, then you should do the same.”

  “It’s not like I abandoned my family.” Caleb lowered his voice. “They told me I needed a break. That I needed to enjoy Montana while I’m still young and have the chance. Besides, I’m sending money home . . .”

  “Yes, well, then, if it’s no big deal, why haven’t you told her already?” Amos stuck his legs into his sleeping bag and slipped down. “It seems to me that neither of you want to return to what you left—for completely different reasons.” Amos fixed his eyes on Caleb’s. “And only her reason is noble.”

  CHAPTER

  21

  Caleb swung the ax, and Rebecca watched, fascinated by his slender frame, wide shoulders, and flexing chest. The pile of wood was already up to his knees, but he didn’t seem close to pausing. Though his body worked hard, she could tell that his mind was fixed on something else. He seemed lost in thought. Was he thinking about her—thinking of what she’d confessed? Thinking of her leaving . . . heading to Portland and maybe leaving the Amish for good?

  Caleb picked up a log and balanced it on the stump. Standing back, he lifted the ax and swung down hard. It hit dead center. He jerked the ax back and followed the same motion. This time the log split in two.

  “I think you have enough wood for every campsite in the Kootenais,” she chuckled.

  Caleb glanced over at her, and his eyes grew wide. “Mornin’, yourself.”

  Caleb paused with the ax in his hand and looked to Rebecca. His breath caught in his throat. Instead of the Amish dress and kapp she’d been wearing, today her dark hair hung loose over her shoulders. She wore hiking boots and jeans. She’d found his thick plaid jacket that he’d been wearing last night and had put it on.

  “Yer . . . yer not in Amish dress.”

  Rebecca shrugged. “I realized that it wasn’t any use pretending. Everyone knows the truth.”

  He imagined her getting on the train at the Whitefish train station. He imagined her getting to Portland and taking a taxi to her college. He imagined her showing up for classes for the first time since being in an Amish school when she was fourteen, and he’d never been so proud of another person. She was so brave.

  Caleb realized he’d been staring and rubbed a hand along his jaw. He leaned on his ax and reached down for his hat, placing it firmly on his head.

  “If you want to get a fire started with some of that wood, I can start on breakfast. You don’t mind, do you?” she asked.

  “No, ma’am.” He winked at her. He took up an armful of wood and headed to the campfire area. Rebecca waited patiently, basking in the golden morning light. Overhead a dozen birds flitted from tree to tree. He watched as Rebecca gazed up, noticing their song too.

  She looked at him and smiled. “What are you staring at?”

  He shook his head, feeling his face heat. “Nothing.”

  “Do I look strange in these men’s clothes?” She glanced down. “I hope you don’t mind me borrowing your jacket. It’s just a bit cold out here.”

  “You don’t look anything like a man, that’s for certain, Rebecca.”

  Instead of answering him, Rebecca turned. “Do you know where the others are?”

  “They headed up to the lake about an hour ago to catch fish for lunch. Millie was in a hurry to get up there, so I told Ike I’d take care of everything around here. Annie wanted to invite you, but I told her that you’d rather have sleep.”

  “Then you know me well.”

  Caleb took care as he laid the logs and kindling, lit a match, and watched the sticks flare. When the fire took off, he stood and wiped his hands on his thighs.

  He could see her breath on the air, and the crispness made him feel alive. He couldn’t imagine returning to Ohio. Yes, the rolling hills were beautiful, but nothing like this. More than that, he couldn’t imagine returning to the community he’d grown up in and trying to find a bride among all the women there. Not after he’d been with Rebecca. There was no one like her there. He’d never met anyone like her.

  They heated up some of the leftovers Annie had saved for them, and then Caleb told her he was going to head out to the pasture to check on the horses before going up to the lake.

  “Did you hear the wolves last night?” he asked.

  “How could I have missed them? But they sounded far away.”

  “Closer than you might think,” Caleb commented, striding down the road to where the horses were.

  “I’ll join you,” she called.

  “Okay, but I need to talk to you about something later today when we head out.” He tried to make his voice sound serious, but it was hard when he was smiling. “The truth is, maybe you should ride with Annie and Ike today; they have that second seat. I can move some of their gear into my wagon.”

  “What—what’s wrong?” She hurried next to him. It took two of her steps to keep up with his one. “It’s the clothes, isn’t it? It’s hitting you, right?”

  “Just the opposite, Rebecca.” He paused and turned to her. “I’ve never been so proud of anyone for what you’re doing. And . . .” He took a deep breath. Did he dare say the rest? He thought against it, but the words wouldn’t be held back. “And I’ve never seen you look so beautiful.”

  “Then why are you running from me?”

  “Maybe it’s not you I’m running from.”

  Rebecca didn’t ask what he was talking about. Instead they approached the nearest pasture and looked around. His eyes scanned the high mountain pasture, and his stomach knotted up. Caleb couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Nothing. The horses were gone. He removed his hat and tossed it onto the ground. “It must have been those wolves . . .”

  “They got the horses?” Fear clung to Rebecca’s words.

  Caleb’s stomach lurched, and he thought he was going to be sick.

  “They didn’t get them, but they scared them off.” He picked up his hat and dusted it off. “Who knows where they are now? And that means we’re not going anywhere until we find them.”

  Caleb led her on a wide sweep around the pasture.
The ground was soft and the prints of the horses’ hooves made no sense to her.

  “How in the world are you going to find out which direction they went?” she asked.

  “Well, we know they didn’t head up the road—we would have heard them. And from what I can see, they didn’t head down the road. But look here . . .” He walked to a wide spot in the trees, pointing to an opening. “See how there are a lot more prints here? They must have been prancing in this area for a while. Then they headed in there.”

  Caleb pointed, and she looked deeper into the wooded area. Sure enough, there were horses’ footprints deeper into the forest.

  “You found which way they went!” Excitement bubbled up from inside. “I just hope they didn’t go too far,” she said. “It seems like they could run forever in these mountains.”

  “Oh, I’m sure they got shook up by those howls we heard, but they’re not runners. They’re usually good at sticking by home, and once the initial jolt got them going, they probably realized they’d strayed too far. Hopefully they’re staying put.”

  They walked along the path, away from the lake. Rebecca was only partly sad that she wouldn’t be seeing it. The truth was, she’d rather spend her day with Caleb.

  “Do you know that tomorrow we’ll be in Libby?” he said. “I’m looking forward to gas station doughnuts and one of those Slushee drinks. But don’t tell Annie.”

  “I was wondering about that. I figured we were getting close. And when I get there, there’s something I need to do.”

  “Yeah, what’s that?” he asked, brushing a tree branch out of the way for her to walk under.

  “I need to call home. I need to tell my parents where I am and how I’m headed to Portland in just a couple weeks.”

  “A couple weeks?” He stopped short. “That soon?”

  “My classes in Portland start in three weeks. I need at least a week there to get used to the city and settle in.”

  “So, are you excited?”

  “Scared. It’s a big city—a couple million people.” She thought about what Millie had said earlier. “It’s a beautiful city, or so a customer at the bakery told me.”

  “Why did you choose Portland of all places to move to?” He eyed the trampled brush that the horses had pushed through. His voice quivered, and he wore a pained expression.

  She swallowed hard. “Well, first I wanted to see the Pacific Ocean. So many people travel to Pinecraft and see the Gulf of Mexico there—I just wanted to be different.” She chuckled. “I suppose I’ve always wanted to be different.

  “But there was another reason too,” she confessed. “It’s because of the name . . . and the memories.”

  “Portland?” Caleb scratched his head. “It’s not all that pretty of a name.”

  “Vell, I remember one year my grandparents took Claudia and me to the Parke County Covered Bridge Festival. There are a few dozen covered bridges there, and our favorite was the Portland Mills Bridge. It was the oldest, yet they’d just renovated it. I liked that. It seemed right that they fixed up the old structure instead of tearing it down. I remember it had been raining, yet inside Claudia and I were safe and dry. That’s when she told me that covered bridges were kissing bridges. She was four years older, so she already had her eyes set on who she wanted to be kissing. I just liked the idea of it, and I promised myself right then that I was going to find a beau who would sneak a kiss in a bridge just like that. You think I’m silly . . . don’t you?”

  “I think you’re a girl.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that I will never understand girls. I determined that when I was six years old, and every day has confirmed it. But I do know that it’s a beautiful thought—a beautiful memory. Danki for sharing it.”

  They hiked for ten minutes, and then they heard the whinnying. They entered a clearing, and Caleb spoke a soft greeting. Nearing the animals, he patted Millie’s black gelding on the rump. Caleb’s horse approached, as if thankful to be found, and Caleb turned and patted him on his wide forehead.

  “We should have brought leads,” Rebecca commented.

  “Are you kidding? I’m pretty sure they’ll follow us out.” He gave Millie’s horse a solid slap on the rump and then started walking back the way they’d come. The horses followed, and Rebecca marveled at his assuredness that the animals wouldn’t give them any trouble.

  They walked through the woods, and the horses did a good job making a line, as if they were on a trail ride.

  “I’m thankful for this time again,” she said. “Thankful that we have time to be together and that we’re on speaking terms.”

  Caleb looked at her and raised his eyebrows, and then he reached down and entwined his fingers through hers, squeezing. “ ‘Speaking terms.’ Is that what you call it?”

  “Well, sure. I’m just sorry . . .” She kicked at a pinecone. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t more truthful from the beginning. As I think about how I just left my parents like that, and how I deceived you, I have many regrets. I just didn’t think there was another way, especially with my parents. I felt helpless, in a way. I knew if they found out, they’d stop me from going.”

  “Do you think you’re the only one with regrets, Rebecca? Do you think you’re the only one who’s felt helpless before?”

  He looked at her and took a deep breath, as if he was preparing to release words that he’d stored up inside for a while. “It was last year my opa had a stroke, and he couldn’t talk, and hardly could move. My mem would set him in a stupid rocking chair on the front porch. She told me he enjoyed the sunshine, and I wanted to tell her that she was crazy. Before his stroke, he never sat still. Everything in his barn was in order. His fields were tended. The animals looked as if they’d just been prepped for showing in the county fair.

  “Without his set of hands, I tried to keep up, but I couldn’t. My dat worked at the factory morning until night, and he was a deacon besides, which is always a lot of work with no extra pay. As the only grandson, everyone knew the farm would someday be mine, and that it was my job. Soon the barn needed to be painted, and we had to get rid of the sheep because they just became too much work. And Opa saw it all. He saw all that he’d worked so hard for fall short of his standards. He’d watched me work, and I’d never been so embarrassed.”

  “When did he die?”

  Caleb released her hand and crossed his arms over his chest. His shoulders slumped, and she’d never seen him looking so dejected. “Ach—he’s not dead yet. In fact, from Mem’s last letter he’s doing a little better.”

  “Then why are you here? Why aren’t you back there with him? I know how much he means to you.”

  “I told my dat I had to get out of there. Don’t you understand, Rebecca? I don’t want to be a disappointment to him. I wasn’t able to do it—run the farm like he did. I’ll never be able to do it. And . . . if I heard those words . . . If he ever had to tell me that I wasn’t doing a very good job . . . Well, I don’t think I could take it.”

  “You need to go back, Caleb. You need to see him, spend time with him. If he loves you, then I’m sure he’d rather see your face than worry about if you have the tack hanging on the right hooks in the barn.” Her heart pounded. Rebecca would do anything for simply one more day with Claudia. Just to sit beside her, laugh, and tell her all about Claude’s antics, especially how he always hid his peas in his napkin just like his mother used to do.

  “Opa was the one who always told me that he wished he’d seen more of the world,” Caleb continued. “He told me a thousand times that he wished he’d taken more risks. He probably never traveled more than twenty-five miles from his farm his whole life. He was a gut Amishman. I tell myself that I’m doing this for him—living the life that he couldn’t.”

  “I think that’s just an excuse. I think what you said about not wanting to disappoint him is an excuse too. I can see it in your eyes.”

  “See what?”

  “Fear. You are afraid of your opa dy
ing and not being there. But maybe you’re even more afraid of him living as a shell of the person that he used to be. It’s not easy to see that. Because when we do, we have to face the fact that our lives are only a vapor too. And then we have to wonder about the hereafter . . . and if we’re doing enough to please God.”

  She paused and picked up a pinecone, turning it over in her hands. “But it’s not our doing that matters, is it? It’s accepting what Jesus has already done. It’s seeing Him—and Him alone—as the way to eternity with God.”

  “You seem to know a lot these days. When did you get all the answers?”

  “I don’t have all the answers, but I’ve been paying attention and listening. This trip has changed me, Caleb. The people have changed me more—more than I thought they ever would.”

  They got the horses back to the right pasture. What would tomorrow bring? They sat in the pasture awhile, taking in the gentle breeze and the happy grazing of the horses. Rebecca couldn’t help but wonder about what her mem would say, what her dat would say, about where she was and what she’d been doing. They would like Caleb—that she knew—but the rest of it? They’d feel their daughter was following the ways of the world for sure, and they’d find themselves among the ranks of those who’d lost their children to the world’s grasp. To lose a child by death was sad, but to lose a child to the enemy’s ways—that was a tragedy.

  CHAPTER

  22

  They had a dinner of baked potatoes and hot dogs on sticks, roasted over the fire. They looked at photos on Annie’s digital camera that she took that day of the beautiful lake high in the mountains and then tried to pick out the constellations in the vast night sky. Rebecca wished there was a button she could use to slow down time. She didn’t want this night to end. She didn’t want to face the fact that in the morning she’d be calling her parents, hearing their disappointment. She simply wanted to live in this moment of wearing Englisch clothes and being just as accepted as when she wore Amish dress. She wanted to soak in Caleb’s eyes upon her. She wanted to laugh at Millie’s stories and then listen to them again. She wanted to enjoy Caleb and Amos as they teased each other and smirk at the loving gazes that Annie and Ike cast each other over the fire pit—gazes they tried unsuccessfully to hide.