The Bridge of Peace

by Cindy Woodsmall

  She bristled. “Actually, I wasn’t thinking of him at all.”

  The surprise on Jonathan’s face was sincere. “Oh … well … you are now.”

  She chuckled. “Not really. I want to make a success of Ada’s House so badly I can’t think of much else, except …”

  “Except?”

  “Elsie and Grey. I wonder about them.”

  Jonathan nodded. “There’s a story between those two, a sad one seems like. And here I was hoping you were thinking about how to fill a huge order of baked goods for me.”

  It bothered her for a woman to be as unhappy as Elsie seemed. Grey was harder to read. He always had a little humor or a kind word to add to every conversation. “Do you ever watch married couples and wonder if they’re happy?”

  He looked from the road to her. “This is odd—I know it is—but I’ve been watching pairs since I was a kid. From the time they start seeing each other and on through years of being married. It’s like a game of sorts. I pick who I think would make a good pair. Or when two people are seeing each other, I think, are they an okay, good, or great couple? Unfortunately, once I grew up, I had to add a group to my list called the fed-up couples.”

  “Wow, you’re deeper and weirder than I thought.”

  “I agree, but it came natural. I must’ve been five when I started couple watching.”

  “So what’d you think of Grey and Elsie before they married?”

  He slowed the rig as they came to a yield sign. “My observations are private. I’ve never told anyone what I think of a couple.”

  “Not even Lena?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then it’ll be our secret.”

  Jonathan studied her for a moment, as if deciding something. He nodded. “I hate to admit it, hated to feel it, but I thought Grey was making a poor choice. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what bothered me about her then, but now I’d say that Elsie’s chronically unhappy. Aren’t there too many spells of sadness in life for a person to be unhappy before the bad days even arrive?”

  “Ephraim and Anna Mary?”

  “Both great people. Could have been moderately happy at least half of the time, in my opinion.”

  “Half of the time?”

  “She’s a little needy—nothing ridiculous, mind you—but Ephraim is a little leave-me-alone-ish. Not the best union but better than lots.”

  “Okay, what about Emma and Levi Riehl?”

  “They’re almost old enough to be my parents, so I wasn’t around when they started seeing each other. But I think they fit like most solid couples do. They know how to help each other enjoy the good times and get through the tough ones.”

  “I can agree with that. What about Ephraim and Cara?”

  Jonathan chuckled. “Now there is an odd, odd pair. And I think they’ll always have some difficulty fitting in with the community as a couple, but within their home, within the relationship with just each other, I bet they’ll be happier than any couple I’ve ever known.”

  “Actually, you’re very good at this. I’ve thought similar things to everything you just said. So what did you think of me and Mahlon?”

  “Not going there, Little Debbie.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I think you are really peculiar. You’re just not the kind of girl I’d ever talk to or share a buggy with,” Jonathan teased. “And if I tell you all that, you’ll get out of my buggy, and then you won’t be around for me to talk to.”

  Deborah chuckled and sat back, enjoying the company. She’d always taken pleasure in a few smiles, laughs, and pleasant snippets of conversations whenever Jonathan was around, but she’d never spent any time with just him. Once alone, Mahlon was rarely cheerful. He was deep … or maybe just secretive. But Mahlon aside, she’d never realized how fun Jonathan could be. “So, if I made you a gazillion desserts, what would you do with all of them?”

  “Hmm, well, that’s a good question. Let me think. Umm. Oh, I got it. I’d sell them. Yep. Well … I’d sell the ones I didn’t eat. Or maybe I’d eat half of each one I sold. Whatever. But I’d set up a booth outside Ada’s House, reel in Englischer tourists with my adorable Amish clothing, maybe offer a carriage ride or two, and then sell them every dessert you paid me with.”

  She laughed but stopped when his words caused an idea to pop into her head. “That’s it! That’s the answer I’ve been looking for!” Deborah grabbed Jonathan’s arm and shook it so hard the whole buggy wobbled. “You are a smart man!”

  “Now see, that’s what I’ve been telling everybody for years. No one ever listens to me. You tell them, Little Debbie.” He paused, looking amused and gentle and even a little unsure of himself. “So what was my brilliant idea, anyway?”

  She took the reins from him and pulled onto the shoulder of the road. “I’m serious.”

  The everyday gentleness seen so easily on his face deepened. “Then I’m listening.”

  “I’ve been trying to figure out how to make Ada’s House a success. We’re in over our heads. We owe bills we didn’t expect and can’t pay. You know, new business-owning difficulties.”

  “I didn’t know all that.”

  “Well, now you do. Just keep it between us. Okay?”

  “Sure. But Ada is supposed to live there nearly rent free because of all the painting Cara’s doing.”

  “Cara’s done most of what she can, so this month’s rent increases. Plus we need to pay for gas to heat the water and stove, food, phone, baking supplies, and water bills. The hay in the pasture will be dried up soon, and we’ll need to supplement through buying hay and a lot more horse feed. Oh, and those boxes for putting the desserts in so we can take them to the bakeries get really expensive. Sometimes I see why Mahlon felt so under it all the time.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t believe it. People are under a load, or two or three of them, at times. But running out like he did is—”

  Deborah raised her hand. “Change of subject, please.”

  “Ya, you’re right. So what was my brilliant idea?”

  “I … I’m not sure.”

  Jonathan started laughing so hard his tanned face turned a captivating shade of pink. “Wow, I have such a great idea you have no idea what it is. I’m good.”

  Tears welled in her eyes as she laughed. Every time they looked at each other, they started laughing all over again. Finally they took a deep breath. What was so funny, anyway? Was it her excitement at his idea or his sense of humor or what?

  “Jonathan,” Deborah said firmly, “pay attention and help me sort this out.”

  He took the reins from her and pulled back onto the road. “You think better when riding in a buggy.”

  “I tend to believe you’re right.” The sounds of the horses’ hoofs and the creaking of the carriage did seem to help her think. “Ada’s House used to be an Amish home before Englischers bought it a long time ago. Now that we’re in it, we’re slowly fixing it up to look Amish again. It’s near a busy town. Why can’t we sell our own goods?”

  “Like Ada’s Coffee House or something?”

  “No, I don’t think so, but you’re close. What else could we do?”

  As they started throwing ideas at each other, Deborah wished she had paper and pen with her. Excitement and hope washed over her, scrubbing away some of the black stain Mahlon had left inside her.

  Jonathan turned onto the road where Ada’s House sat. Three Amish men, all dressed in their Sunday suits, stood on the sidewalk a few doors down from Ada’s House. Ephraim was one of them. They rode past them, and Ephraim flailed his arms while talking, as if he was frustrated. “That doesn’t look good, does it?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “Cara was doing something today she wouldn’t tell me about. Think she caused a problem?”

  “Don’t know, but your brother’s awfully good at finding a balance between what Cara needs and what the church leaders want. It’s pretty impressive.”

  “He’s not that great at it.
He was shunned for months and has been a member in good standing again for only a few weeks now.”

  “Ah, but he’s no longer shunned, and he won the girl’s heart. Don’t sweat it, Little Debbie. No one thinks through issues more carefully before taking a step than your brother.”

  Realizing Jonathan was right, Deborah chose to stop worrying. Ada’s House came into view. It still needed a lot of work, but Cara didn’t have the ladders or supplies she needed to paint the eaves or most of the clapboard siding. Using the one ladder they did have, she’d painted the few shutters she could. And she had the porch looking perfect from ceiling to wooden floor.

  As he slowed the rig, a faint idea tried to wriggle into Deborah’s mind. Touching his hand, she studied the place. “Jon,” she whispered, “keep going.”

  Without questioning her, he did.

  Chills ran all over her. “Wait.”

  He came to a halt.

  “Look at that dried-up cornfield.”

  He studied it and turned back to her, waiting.

  “There’s got to be something … you know … some …”

  “Dried-up ears of corn?”

  “No.” She climbed down, crossed onto her neighbor’s property, and entered the field.

  Jonathan followed her. “Some women make dolls out of parts of cornstalks.”

  “Maybe.” Deborah went deeper into the rows. The corn had been harvested, but the stalks remained. That stood out as very odd to her. The field didn’t belong to an Amish person either. Suddenly, as clear as if God were passing her a picture book, she saw it. “A maze!” She spun around slowly. “And Amish-made cakes and pies and apple cider. Maybe other goodies too, along with pumpkins and hayrides. I know it’s late in the season, being the first of October and all, but is it possible we could turn Ada’s House into a pumpkin-patch-type place?”

  “Now that is the best idea I’ve heard in a really, really long time.” Jonathan’s face radiated such pleasure and confidence in her. “Since it’s too late to grow them yourself, you’d need to buy the pumpkins and have them hauled in. But the real problem is that a pumpkin patch is just needed for a month or so once a year.”

  Her mind spun like the wheels on a carriage. “Maybe we could find a special niche for each season.”

  His eyes grew large. “That’s really good. Focus on the pumpkin patch idea. That’s for the here and now.”

  Insecurity covered her like a blanket. “Ya, but can we lease the field, and even if we could, can me and Ada actually make money from our work? Will we know how to plan and organize for such a thing? Or will we just be taking on more bills?”

  He stood inside that cornfield, studying her. “What does your heart say?”

  “Part of it says try, and part of it says run.” She moved in closer. “I want to try. But I’ve never felt so scared in all my life.”

  “Then do it while you’re scared,” he whispered, and the rustling of the wind carried his words round and round through the dry stalks. “I’ll help you … if you want.”

  Eleven

  Cara didn’t know how far they’d gone when she finally began to have a reasonable thought or two enter her mind. She trotted along while Lori rode her bike. They kept going farther and farther from Ada’s. Lori loved it, and she didn’t know her mother was furious … and hurt. Stupid rule. She couldn’t take the bike from Lori. Despite that, she’d been gone a long time, and Ephraim might be looking for her. “Lori, honey.”

  Lori stopped her bike.

  “Let’s head on back to Ada’s now.”

  “Yeah, my legs are getting wobbly.”

  “That’s my fault. We’ve gone too far. You want to walk for a bit?”

  “No way.”

  They crossed a dozen streets on their way back, but soon enough they were on their block again.

  Ephraim stood on the sidewalk, looking one direction and then the other. When he spotted her, he wasted no time getting to her.

  “’From, look!” Lori chirped. “I got a new bike. Mama and me did it. And I’m good at riding, even in this dress. Watch me.” Lori passed him and kept going.

  Cara cupped her hands around her mouth. “Stop at Ada’s, Lori. Don’t go any farther.”

  “Okay.” Lori’s voice vibrated as she jolted along.

  Ephraim studied her. “You okay?”

  “I take it the men in black came to see you too.”

  “I spoke to them, ya.”

  Cara rolled her eyes and kept walking. Ephraim held out his hand for hers. She tucked her hands inside her folded arms. “What, you’re not too embarrassed to hold my hand after I’ve spattered this horrible stain across the Amish?”

  “Not today. Not ever.” He tugged on her sleeve.

  She unfolded her arms and slid her hand into his. Lori pulled onto the walkway that led to Ada’s, dropped her bike, and ran into the house. Ephraim gently squeezed Cara’s hand.

  “You’re not ashamed.” Cara stopped. “Why?”

  “Because I know you.” They started up the walkway. “And I get it—the stumbles and mishaps.” He shrugged. “Plain out, I expected a few to crop up.”

  “Look!” Lori ran back out the door with Deborah and Jonathan following close behind.

  When Lori pointed to her bike, Deborah looked to Cara. “The surprise?”

  “Yes!” Lori clapped her hands. “Isn’t it great?”

  “It’s quite a … a surprise.” Deborah searched her brother’s eyes, clearly trying to figure out what to say. “Where did you get it?”

  “Me and Mama mowed grass and picked weeds for it!”

  Deborah’s eyes grew large. “On a Sunday?”

  “Yeah.” Cara tugged at her dress. “And thanks for the great advice about changing out of my jeans and wearing my Amish clothes, Deb. It seemed to be a dead giveaway that I shouldn’t be working on a Sunday, and someone told the church leaders.”

  “Oh dear.” Deborah placed her hand over her mouth, trying to smother her laughter. “This isn’t funny. I know it’s not, but …” She glanced at Jonathan, who looked a little more sympathetic to Cara’s troubles.

  Clearly, Lori was too preoccupied with her bike to hear much of what the adults were saying.

  Ephraim stepped forward. “You’ll have to excuse my sister, Cara. She seems to be regaining her sense of humor … at the totally wrong time.” He smiled at Deborah, letting her know he wasn’t the least bit annoyed. “Lori, how about if we put the bike away for now and take Better Days for a walk?”

  “Okay, but first I’m hungry. We’ve been gone all day. Mama just doesn’t get hungry like me.”

  Deborah held out her hand for Lori’s. “Kumm. I’ll fix you something to eat.”

  “Can I take my bike inside with me?”

  Ephraim nodded. “Ya.”

  Jonathan toted the bike inside as Lori jabbered about it the whole way.

  Cara pulled her hand from Ephraim’s. “I’m not asking her to give that up.”

  His gray-blue eyes stayed focused on her. “Let’s talk about this later. You’re tired and hungry and angry.”

  “Don’t treat me like a kid. Even the church leaders didn’t do that.”

  He took a seat on the porch steps. “I didn’t mean to.”

  “The Amish don’t ride bicycles?”

  “Some do in other states. But you shouldn’t see it happening here, not among the members.”

  “What’s so wrong with a bike?”

  “It’s one of those old rules we’ve stuck by. They’re a bit flashy, and they allow a person to travel a lot longer distances than a foot scooter.” He shrugged. “I never said I agree with all the Ordnung. I just trust that for the most part the regulations are needed to protect our ways and help us stay close and accountable. Bikes are forbidden for us, and I can’t change the rules or stop them from being enforced.”

  Her heart jumped. “I didn’t get you in trouble again, did I?”

  “Nope. This one’s all yours. But the bishop and prea
cher’s little talk with you is most of the discipline you’ll get since you’re not a member. They’ll want to talk again when you’ve had time to think. Did you really invite them to leave?”

  Realizing just how snarky she’d been, she took a seat beside him. “I … I might have.” She looped her arm inside of his. “Okay, fine. I definitely did. Will I ever get to the end of this list of rules?”

  “You mean without breaking each one? Nah, I don’t think so.”

  She sandwiched his hand between hers. “I can’t ask her to give up her bike.” He didn’t respond, and her eyes filled with tears. “This just stinks. And it hurts too, not just a little either. All those years of having nothing—not even on Christmas—and then when I finally get to where I can give her something special.…” Cara sighed. “I was so excited about today I couldn’t sleep last night.”

  “I’m really sorry. I never once thought about the bike rule.”

  “It’s a stupid one.”

  “Maybe. But it’s there, and the rule is not open for debate.”

  “Now what?”

  He leaned in and kissed her, his warm lips easing her anger and disappointment. With his forehead against hers, he drew a deep breath. “You mean everything to me, Cara.” He whispered the words so softly, as if they came from a place deep within him. “That’s all I know. You have to decide the rest for yourself.”

  “Some choice,” she mumbled. If she didn’t do it their way, she couldn’t join the faith, and they couldn’t marry. If he left the faith, he’d hurt his family, damage the business, and lose a huge part of himself. Over a bike?

  Grey tucked Ivan in for the night, sliding the covers gently over his son’s arms as his little boy snuggled under their warmth. When Grey looked up, Elsie stood at the doorway. Surprise at seeing her there jarred him, but he kept his face expressionless.

  He’d wrestled with his soul all day. A wave of forgiveness would come to him for a moment, but then realization of what she’d done would explode inside him like a volcano scattering ash so thick he couldn’t see or feel anything but the aftereffects of the eruption. And now he fought to gain control of his will. He’d told her they’d find answers, but as the day wore on, all he’d found was hurt and resentment pounding inside him.