Covered Bridge Charm

by Christner, Dianne;

  “I know. Things never calm down at work. Right now, Martha Struder’s depressed, and I’m trying to figure out how to help her.”

  “What’s going on with her?”

  “Probably a lack of mental stimulation. She always enjoyed conversations with her late husband, and now her best friend, Dot Miller, is slipping into dementia. Martha’s about the sharpest one in assisted living. She’s only there because of her asthma.”

  They sat on the steps, and Cocoa nestled between them, sniffing Jimmy’s jeans. His hand moved to stroke the pet. “So nobody wants to listen to her anymore?”

  “Exactly.” She darted a skittish gaze at him. “I have a reason to take the bridge tour. I need to make a decision. While he quietly listened, she explained about Martha’s long-lost love and her new idea. She repeated Adam’s warnings. “So you can see how I’m torn. I want to stand on one of those bridges and pray. But I don’t want to stir up more trouble with Simon. Yet if I can help her, I need to do what’s right.”

  He squeezed her hand. “You always do what’s right. But it usually takes people out of their comfort zone. That’s what causes trouble.”

  Their personalities were similar, but he had the luxury of being a man where assertiveness wasn’t viewed as a personal flaw. “How’d we get to be so different than everyone else in our congregation? You’re traveling, seeking adventure.” She tugged off her gardening gloves and set them on the porch decking. “Auntie refused to marry after Uncle Bob and little Bobby were killed in that accident. She was still young, but she moved into Sweet Home and lived like a recluse.”

  “Until we came to live with her.” Jimmy took up the story. “Then all three of us became our own little rebellious clique.”

  “I guess.”

  He shoulder-bumped her. “That’s why we gotta look out for each other.”

  “Except… apparently, I’m the only one who really needs looking out after, right?”

  He gave her a contrite grin. “Why not go to Weddle Bridge to do your thinking? That way you won’t get stranded in a storm.”

  “Really? I see that bridge every day, and it doesn’t have anything to do with Martha. Anyway, if I get caught under one of those bridges, it might be kinda fun.”

  “There’s water under those bridges, too, you know. Your bike could get stuck.”

  She rolled her gaze heavenward.

  He tried another tactic. “How you going to pray with all those other bikers staring at the plain-dressed girl on the pink bike?”

  He made a good point. “Maybe I should just ride out to the Crawfordsville Bridge. The tour won’t get there until afternoon. I’m pretty sure that’s the one Martha was talking about anyway.” She shrugged. “I’ll make sure my phone’s charged.”

  “You’re not taking Cocoa?”

  Carly scratched the bunny, and he licked her hand. “Of course not. I’ll toss my phone in my bike basket. And everything will be fine.”

  “Be sure to call Adam if you get into trouble.”

  Adam thanked the waitress for his third cola refill and leaned his head on the back of the red vinyl booth.

  “Sorry I’m late.”

  He straightened as Jimmy slid in across from him. “I almost ordered without you.”

  “You should’ve. I stopped by to check on Sis, and things got complicated.”

  He gave his friend a sympathetic grin. “I was picturing something like that.”

  A waitress flirted, then left with their orders.

  “So you’re heading to the Badlands?” Jimmy could have been a Christopher Columbus or a Ferdinand Magellan in another life, one where he wasn’t born Conservative Mennonite. His adventuresome side always made him fun. Only now his thirst for exploration had expanded beyond the hills and rivers of Linn County, where they used to play as kids. His sharp mind was fascinated with the history of the places he traveled. He had no interest in settling down.

  Over the years, Jimmy’s attitude had rubbed off onto Adam. Though women were attracted to them, they’d both managed to remain single. Lately, they’d been moving in different directions. Didn’t see each other as often. Jimmy’s new job allowed him more freedom, but Adam’s world remained confining and controlled.

  Jimmy grinned. “I’m going to Deadwood Gulch. I’ve been reading up on Wild Bill Hickok and Calamity Jane.”

  Laughing, Adam replied, “Maybe you’ll get some tips on how to keep up with Carly.”

  “Regarding my sister, you may be getting a phone call tomorrow. She’s riding her bike to Crawfordsville Bridge, and there’s a storm moving in. I told her to call you if she gets in trouble.”

  Adam caught a vision of Carly wet and muddy, mad and dimpled. Then a flash of Dad’s newest stipulation. He narrowed his eyes. “Is this about finding Martha’s old boyfriend?”

  “It’s about thinking the idea through. She’s considering your opinion, but my guess is that she’ll end up getting involved in some kind of matchmaking scheme.” As they discussed their concerns over her latest plot, Adam grew restless. He’d been keeping too much from Jimmy on what was happening in his life. “You know I’ve always got your back. I care about her, too. But things are getting complicated.”

  “Busy time of the year, heading toward Christmas?”

  “Jah, but that’s not what I meant. Dad offered me a partnership. He’s drawing up paperwork after the holidays.”

  Jimmy leaned forward. “Hey, that’s great! It’s what you always wanted.”

  “I know.” Adam fiddled with an empty straw paper. “But he’s using it to control me. He wants me to settle down, but he wants to tell me who I can date, too. And it’s not Carly.”

  Jimmy flinched. “That’s harsh. Am I off limits, too?”

  The waitress returned with their burgers but didn’t interrupt their conversation. “No, nothing like that.”

  Jimmy nodded and downed a couple fries. “Wait a minute. You want to date Carly?”

  Adam squirted ketchup on his plate, then met Jimmy’s waiting gaze. “I don’t know. But I hate Dad’s interference so I can’t find out. And it’s not just him. It’s Simon, too. Only Simon’s pushing me to pursue Carly. He thinks it’ll keep her from being overly involved at the center. He wants me to distract her. It’s a real tug-of-war, and I’m so sick of their manipulations. No offense, but I probably wouldn’t have even started thinking about her that way if Simon hadn’t been goading me. Before she was always just your little sister. Dale’s ex. Besides all that, Dad wants me to quit volunteering at the center.”

  Jimmy doggedly returned to his earlier question. “So you and Carly? And I’ve been pushing the two of you together. Look I’ll figure something else out with Carly so you can back off. I don’t want her getting hurt.”

  “I’d like to let this play out. For both of us.”

  Jimmy’s eyes darkened. “You mean she’s interested in you, too?”

  “I think so.”

  “Well I don’t like it.” He pushed his empty glass away. “I assumed it was a given that we wouldn’t chase each other’s sisters. You have six pretty ones I’ve always respected.” He shook his head. “After this haul, I’d better stick around for a while.”

  “Don’t make me sit on you.” Adam had always been the strongest. “I’m not going to hurt Carly. But I’m not going to let Dad control me, either.” He knew his next statement would take Jimmy over the edge, but he wanted to come completely clean. “Besides that, Dale offered me a job in Indiana.”

  Jimmy slammed his back against the booth and ran a hand through his blond, wavy hair. “What are you thinking? You know Carly won’t move to Indiana. Did you tell her?”

  “You think I’m crazy?”

  “Kinda. Bet that made your dad mad, too, with the feud he’s got going with Simon.”

  “Now you’re getting the picture.”

  Jimmy sighed. “I’d hate to see you go. But if you do, it better be soon before you drag Carly into this. I don’t want to see her hurt twice.”<
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  “I have to stay long enough to finish the Christmas season.”

  Jimmy’s expression hardened.

  “Trust me.”

  Carly kissed Cocoa on the head, donned a warm black sweater, and tossed her lunch and phone into her cruiser’s basket. With a wave for Imogene, she set off past the row of pastel-painted cottages, breathing in the crisp autumn smells. She headed west out of Sweet Home, hitting a leisurely pace. For once, she had plenty of time and intended to bathe herself in nature, hoping to feel a little closer to God and to straighten out her jumbled thoughts.

  She crossed Ames Creek, and the road curved south. The Santiam River sparkled blue against its mountainous backdrop until it meandered out of sight. A logging truck whizzed by her, and she had to keep to the shoulder until she veered off the divided highway onto the less traveled Holley Road. As her gaze took in the rural landscape, which bore the marks of logging, she thought about the conversation she’d had with Jimmy. After he’d left her cottage, she’d made up her mind not to call Adam unless it was a last resort. She’d gotten so dependent on the both of them that she’d almost forgotten she was capable of taking care of herself. Pure foolishness!

  The chilly air brushed her face and she felt the pleasant rush as she coasted down the slopes and peddled up inclines on the two-lane road, which curved past horses and picket-fenced homes. Cows circled a feeding trough, and sheep dotted the landscape. As the area grew more agricultural, the wind increased. Alongside deep ditches, sword ferns waved, rooted in rich soil tucked under blankets of gold. Sudden gusts swirled brittle leaves from nearby trees, temporarily blinding her.

  Spitting leaf debris, she stopped at a place where blackberry vines intertwined in an old wire fence. She secured her prayer-covering strings and drank some water. The wind indicated a storm was on her heels. The overcast sky wasn’t exactly ominous, but she wouldn’t want to be under the power lines when it hit.

  Making a quick decision, she continued onward. It took some muscle to get started again, and even though she had to lean forward and work harder to keep her pace, she immensely enjoyed the exercise.

  She passed Old Holley Church and Greenville Road, on which Adam’s tree farm was located, able to see some trees in the distance. Her breath caught when three elk burst from the woods and trotted across the road. The last one, with a dark mane and velvet antlers, paused to stare at her before it disappeared into the trees on the other side.

  The Crawfordsville Bridge was off the main road, picturesquely situated in a tangle of blackberry bushes and trees. She walked her bike around the gate. A white board fence heralded its entrance, and she crossed the bump where the bridge’s wooden floor met the road. In the center of the bridge, she lowered her kickstand and peered out one of its many windows overlooking the Calapooia River. She tried to imagine Martha’s old boyfriend fishing from a rock below. They would’ve had to yell extremely loud for their voices to be heard over the water’s rushing and the cackling of Canada geese.

  The bridge, however, had been moved since Martha was a girl, so she had no way of verifying Martha’s account of that first meeting. Lord, please give me direction. I don’t want to meddle, but to bring joy back into Martha’s life. Except for the promise of heaven, her joys are diminishing with each day. Please reveal Your will to me. I’m not concerned with what people think about me. But I care what You think about me. She took a deep breath of the cold moist air. I long for peace.

  “Forgive.”

  As the idea downloaded into her mind, she was convicted about her resentment toward Sherie and Simon. “Jah, I know. But I need Your help with that.”

  She moved along the walls and looked at the rafters. Ran her hands over the carvings of lovers’ initials. What had happened to all those relationships? A severe pang of loneliness shot through her so that she could relate to Martha. And she knew she would pursue the quest. Thanks, Lord. If my loneliness serves others, then living the single life is good enough for me.

  Overhead the sky darkened and churned. She decided to eat her lunch at a picnic table, with the river to her back. She watched rotten apples drop from a large hanging tree. Suddenly the rain began, pelting hard from its onset. Grabbing her peanut butter sandwich, she spotted a huge tree and wondered if it was the tree where Martha got kissed. She lingered there, gazing through the downpour to see if there were any other big trees in the vicinity. But a loud clap of thunder had her tossing her sandwich and running for the bridge.

  As she drew her sweater tight, the rain deluged her, flattening her prayer cap. She fled. Jimmy was right. Again. She jumped over water rivulets and reached the bridge’s shelter. With the open sides of the bridge, water spray still reached her.

  Her phone rang. She snatched it and stared at the screen, a smile forming as she answered. “I’m at the Crawfordsville Bridge. Not swimming, but almost. Okay, bye.” Adam was on his way, and she didn’t regret it. Fickle heart.

  Although the bridge had been restored, she watched puddles form under a leaky roof. By the time Adam arrived, she was drenched and cold. She made a dash for his truck as he handled her bike. When he jumped inside, water dripped off his dark hat. He grinned at her, and they both broke into laughter.

  “Too stubborn to call,” he chided.

  She shrugged.

  The truck windows grew foggy. “So was it worth it?”

  “Jah. I had time to think. I’m going to do it.” She raised her hand to stave off any determent. “I was standing on the bridge, praying about it, and this deep loneliness swept over me.” She let out the part about needing to forgive. “It was like the loneliness is a calling so that I can empathize with the residents. I think it’s God’s plan for me.”

  He frowned. “Loneliness?”

  She nodded. “I can’t argue with God’s plan, can I?”

  Amusement crinkled his mouth. “Well you could, but I wouldn’t advise it.”

  He leaned close, and his rugged form filled the tight space. “Did you get any other insights? Like maybe your lonely years are about to end? You don’t have to constantly eat pie to remember what it tastes like.”

  Her heart sped as it always did when he flirted. She untied her prayer cap, smoothing its wet strings. “I don’t know. But I felt God on that bridge.”

  “Carly.”

  She looked into his wistful eyes. “Jah.”

  “I wish I felt that kind of certainty. I want to fill that lonely spot for you, but I’m afraid that if it wouldn’t work out, I’d hurt you. Jimmy’s afraid of that, too. He warned me away from you.”

  Her jaw dropped. “But how did he even know about us?”

  Adam shrugged, wiped drops of moisture from her cheek. “We’re close.”

  Her voice broke, “So are you taking his advice?”

  His expression reluctant, he asked, “Do you want me to?”

  She stared at the foggy window. If they got closer and it didn’t work out… if Adam’s friendship was somehow removed from her life, she’d be devastated. She knew he had some kind of issues to work out before he could commit to her. If she waited, he might even change his mind. And Jimmy was usually right. “Jah. We should listen to reason. But first”—she clutched the front of his shirt and trembled.

  Adam didn’t need instructions. His arms quickly embraced her and his virile lips sweetly caressed. She could tell he felt the same, grasping for a taste of heaven and what might have been. Or what could destroy them both. Warmed from within, she touched his cheek. “You’re a good man, and I’m fond of you. But I’m set in my ways. Jah. It’s probably best if we take Jimmy’s advice.”

  His eyes dark and hooded, he ran a rough thumb over her lips. “Maybe.” He sighed and drew back. “You’re shivering. For now, I’ll take you home.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Adam gazed across the humble sanctuary at the women’s pews and watched Carly, unawares. All he could think about was their recent kiss. Usually he was the initiator, but she’d kissed him twice now. Her pass
ion had ignited a strong desire in him. He admired her both for claiming it and for afterward being strong enough to say no to the possibility of pursuing a relationship with him. The things he’d heard about her from Dale weren’t jiving with the woman he was getting to know. He’d never had the nerve to ask Jimmy about Dale’s accusations.

  He’d been disappointed when she pushed him away. Had hoped she would take the risk. Hoped that she’d be strong enough to carry them both through new territory, to fight for him like she fought for her residents. It hurt him to watch her taking Bishop Kauffman’s sermon on family relationships so intently. He could read her mind. She’d use it to strengthen her resolve against him, to take her brother’s advice to heart. To push him away, just like with Dale.

  It soured his stomach to think of his own family situation, the way he allowed his dad and uncle to use him as a pawn to fuel their private feud. Every time he stood up to them, the stakes were pushed to a higher level. He always strove to be a peacemaker as their faith dictated. Would he find peace if he moved to Indiana? Even if he didn’t want to leave his family or Carly?

  That afternoon, his confusion drove him to her cottage, and he had every intention of telling her about Dale’s offer. He needed to get the Dale thing out in the open and persuade her he wasn’t like his cousin. If the information leaked out by other means, it would only complicate matters. But when he arrived at her cottage, her bike was missing, and she didn’t answer the door.

  Sunday after church, Carly kicked off her shoes and stretched out on Aunt Fannie’s sofa, one leg dangling leisurely, thinking how the service had confirmed her decision. The songs and even the scripture, Psalm 68:6, called her name. “God setteth the solitary in families.” She’d never considered that verse before. But she felt He was telling her to seek solace in her family. That it should suffice. And that she could be like family for Martha and the other residents.

  Adam had made it clear that he felt the same attraction she felt, but that he wasn’t ready to commit. He was giving her forewarning that if they moved forward to explore their feelings, he might pull away. There was an obvious risk in any budding relationship, but the fact that he’d alluded to it twice now meant something deeper was troubling him. A definite red flag. She ran her finger across her lips, remembering and wishing it could be different.