Covered Bridge Charm

by Christner, Dianne;

  Carly nodded. Except she wasn’t calling Adam. Not after she’d ignored six calls from him yesterday. Instead, she found Miranda and asked her to make the call. Just before quitting time, Adam arrived. When he walked into the lobby, Carly turned and headed for the staff room. Minutes ticked by, and finally the door creaked open. His dark eyes peered at her. “Let’s go outside and talk.”

  “I’m busy.”

  His wore a determined expression. “We can talk privately or here for the entire staff to hear.”

  “Fine!” She threw the door open and barked at Miranda. “I’ll be back in a second.” She could feel the woman’s curious gaze peering into her back. Outside she crossed her arms. “Thanks for embarrassing me in front of Miranda.”

  He smirked. “I think you did that to yourself. Did you really think you could hide from me?”

  “I wasn’t hiding. I was cleaning out the refrigerator.” Thankfully, she spoke part of the truth.

  “Well the last time I checked… on our last date… I was a little more interesting than a dirty refrigerator. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Nappanee, but that’s old news. The important thing is our relationship. I should’ve told you, but I didn’t think it mattered anymore. I’m sending back the plane ticket.”

  “That’s nice. In the meantime, I’d like to take a break.”

  “You mean until I send the ticket back?”

  “Until after January 10.”

  “So you don’t trust me. That hurts.”

  “I’m sorry. This has been a really stressful day. I need to get back inside.”

  “This isn’t over, you know.”

  She turned away.

  “Wait!”

  She paused.

  “Tell Sherie I’ll bring the box in about an hour. And heads up. I’m staying for the cat’s funeral.”

  She nodded as Crusher approached them from assisted living. When he saw them, he hesitated.

  “Want to help me make a cat coffin?” Adam asked him.

  The older man’s eyes lit. “Sure.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Since they were on a time crunch, the box was a simple, rather crude affair. Adam handed Crusher the sandpaper while he put away the woodworking tools. “I miss this place.”

  “Me, too. I started doing kits.”

  “What kind?”

  “Miniature cars. Painting them, too.”

  Knowing such a collection wouldn’t be church-approved, Adam replied. “No kidding? My lips are sealed.”

  “Keeps me busy so I don’t have to think about Dot all the time.”

  Putting the cover on the saw, Adam asked, “How’s she doing?”

  “She had a rough day. Martha had to go to the hospital, and now she’s in the care center.”

  With shock, Adam instantly realized the impact this would have had on Carly. “Is it serious with Martha?”

  “Seems so. And Dot’s been crying half the day.”

  “I’m sorry to hear it.”

  Crusher put aside the sandpaper. “You and Carly having a spat?”

  Adam held up a finger while he used the noisy air compressor to blow dust off the box. Then as Crusher swept, he poured out the entire story about how he’d fallen for Carly when they worked together to hook up Martha with an old boyfriend, mentioning how that part was confidential. He hadn’t even got to the part about Nappanee, when Crusher interrupted.

  “You’ve been looking at the wrong bridge.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “That was the summer that Martha’s house burned down. Her family moved up toward Scio while they rebuilt. I’ll bet it was the Larwood bridge.”

  Adam realized that Dale hadn’t done any research in that area.

  “Anyway what caused the spat between you and Carly?”

  With a grin, Adam explained, “That’s a long story. But the information you just gave me will make a great peace offering.”

  Crusher chuckled. “Glad to help.”

  “Now, let’s get this box over to assisted living. Sherie gave me the key to the emergency exit so I can sneak it into the hall and into Martha’s apartment.”

  “I doubt you’ll get past Patty. She monitors the hall, you know.”

  “Let’s try. The fewer residents who know about it, the less grief it’ll cause.”

  “Hope Sherie knows what she’s doing. I’d better go with you. Make sure Dot’s okay.”

  Carly sat with Nines, who’d been given the news. The older woman took it better than Carly had predicted, but then Nines was a private woman and thought it was unseemly to show her emotions in public.

  “I couldn’t figure out why he kept running away from me. Now I know he was just trying to find a secluded place to rest and go to heaven. And Martha’s bed really is a soft setup.”

  “Jah. I’m sure he went peacefully.”

  “He won’t have to suffer anymore. I think it was pretty painful for him to get around.”

  It was an issue upon which Carly remained undecided. Could she ever be satisfied to lose a loved one even though their suffering was great? Thankfully, they hadn’t needed to make that decision for Teacup. “Do you have his bed or something to put in the box with him?”

  Nines stood, and her helpless gaze scoped the room. “No. He slept on my bed. But let’s give him that sofa pillow.”

  Carly widened her eyes. “The one with the pretty needlework?”

  “Yep.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “He’s the only family I have.”

  Patricia Smith knew that wasn’t the entire truth. She had a son, but he’d moved to California straight from college. At the time, she’d wondered if she’d been too strict on him, always complaining about the dirt he dragged into the house and the way he dressed. She remembered teaching him to iron before he went to college.

  He’d hugged her. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll be back.”

  It was the same thing he’d said when he moved to California. Oh, Patricia knew her memory was slipping, but he was the only family she had left. That’s why she always dressed ready to go. When he finally showed up, as he did about once a year, she’d be looking her best. But after her husband died, it was Teacup who kept her company. Poor old, faithful Teacup.

  Carly understood Nines’s feelings. “You’re right. It’ll be perfect for him.”

  Miss Hall Patroller stuck her head inside the apartment. “Adam’s here with the box.”

  “Thanks,” Carly replied.

  Nines busied herself, gathering up Teacup’s toys. A few minutes later, Sherie entered the room. Behind her was Adam with Teacup.

  Carly helped Nines back into her chair, and Adam placed the little coffin by her feet.

  “How about we step outside for a moment and give you some time alone,” Sherie suggested.

  Nines didn’t reply, and they all left the apartment. In the hall, Sherie said, “Let’s give her about fifteen minutes, then go back in and hold the service.”

  When Sherie left them, Carly’s head throbbed from the stress of Adam’s gaze. “Thanks for doing that for us.”

  He nodded, “It’s not much.”

  “It’s special to Nines. She’s…” Her voice trailed off. She wasn’t ready to face Adam, especially under stressful circumstances. But he was always a rock when anyone needed him. He could be a godsend—she’d give him that.

  As if he was reading her mind, he asked, “Can I take you home later?”

  “No.” She answered too quickly.

  “It’ll be too dark for you to ride your bike. I’m good for a ride, right?”

  And he claimed she read him like a dog-eared book. She guessed it was mutual. Narrowing her eyes in distrust, she replied, “All right, but don’t expect any decent conversation.”

  Adam was thankful for small victories. It was another hour until Teacup’s service was over. Then he loaded the small coffin in the bed of his truck, having offered to bury her at the farm. He’d described an idyllic spot
where they’d buried all their family pets. Nines had liked the idea, and he’d even seen appreciation in Carly’s eyes.

  Next he hoisted her bike into his truck and secured it. She was already inside the truck, shivering. Adjusting the heat control, he started down Long Street. The drive would be short. He needed to make the most of his time with the woman whose mind was set against him.

  Her voice sounded far away, but she threw him a bone. “Do you think demented or partially demented people feel grief the way a normal person does?”

  “I would imagine they’d get over it quicker, but they probably grieve daily about their memory loss.”

  She rubbed her lovely temples. Stress lined her apple-cheeked face.

  Why hadn’t he said something more comforting? “Got a headache?”

  “Jah. A doozy.”

  “I’ve got news that’ll cheer you up.”

  She looked at him for the first time since she’d gotten in his truck. “Oh, jah? Try me.”

  “Crusher told me an interesting story about Martha.”

  “You know she’s in the care center?”

  “Jah, he told me.”

  “I meant to go over there tonight.” She looked back out the window. “But now I can’t.”

  “Don’t worry. She’s a fighter. She’ll soon be back at Sweet Life.” Carly didn’t reply, so he continued. “Anyway, the summer she was sixteen, her house burned down.”

  Her eyes widened, and she involuntarily tucked a stray blond curl behind her ear.

  He felt his pulse quicken.

  Her voice softened. “Tell me the story.”

  He pulled into her drive, relieved she wasn’t charging out of the truck in a huff. So far so good. He explained all Crusher had revealed, ending with, “He’s pretty sure it would be the Larwood bridge.”

  She sucked her bottom lip. “This changes everything.”

  “I know. We need to start over.” He saw the hesitation in her eyes. “It makes sense because that bridge has a great beach where people fish. So let’s go over on Sunday afternoon and poke around a little.”

  She jerked her gaze away. “No.”

  He caught her hand. “Carly, please.”

  But she drew it away, onto her lap. “I wish you’d quit toying with me.”

  “I understand I hurt your feelings. But if I’d laid everything out, especially as mixed up as my mind was in the beginning, you wouldn’t have given me a chance. And I’d never have known I could fall in love with you.”

  Her eyes held pain, and her dimples flashed. “You even toy around with your words. Could fall in love, I think I might be in love. Jimmy told me about the kinds of tricks you both use with words when talking to women. I wish you would just leave me alone.”

  “It’s called flirting. It’s a little dance that helps guys learn about women.”

  Not amused, she folded her hands. “It hurts to imagine you flirting with your blind date in Nappanee. Are you going to check her out and compare her with me?”

  “What? No.”

  She rolled her gaze toward the night sky.

  “Because I’m not going to Indiana. You’ll see. I’m staying here and proving to you and Dad and your brother that this is where I want to live and work.” He hesitated, then added, “And love.”

  She studied him with a yearning expression. “I don’t have any answers for you tonight, Adam. It’s not a good time to be discussing this.”

  “I understand. Let me walk you to the door.”

  At her stoop, he tried to take her arm, only intending to kiss her cheek, but she shrugged away. “Thanks for bringing me home. For dealing with my bike.”

  “Sure. Take something for that headache and think about going over to Larwood bridge on Sunday.”

  She nodded and closed the door.

  The drive home was dark and lonely. The Indiana opportunity had botched his life from the get-go. He wished he’d never gotten that birthday card from Dale. Maybe it had provoked Dad to treat him better, but then he’d offended Jimmy and now Carly. And before this was over, Dale and his family would be offended, too.

  When he’d called to politely refuse the plane ticket, Dale had insisted that he keep it until after Christmas. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, and now Carly was putting on the brakes. Even being picky over the words he used when he described his feelings. He needed to talk to Ann to see what he was doing wrong. He looked at the clock. She’d still be up. Maybe she could help him come up with an idea to win back Carly’s trust. But then he remembered the little coffin in the back of his truck.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  The following Sunday at church, Carly’s raw emotions steered her away from Adam. She didn’t want him to find out she was going to Larwood bridge with Aunt Fannie. But her plans of slipping away without notice went awry went Ann intercepted her outside the church building.

  She drew her to a tall evergreen where people habitually clustered. “I’ll bet you thought I forgot all about your suggestion.”

  “What suggestion?” Carly teased, keeping her eye out for Adam.

  “Good one.” Ann tilted her head expectantly.

  “I knew you would get back to me when you were ready.”

  When Ann clapped her hands like an enthusiastic child, she got Carly’s attention. “I’m going to do it! Here’s my plan. I’m already taking some children caroling, so I’ll take them to Sweet Life. In the meantime, I’ll get organized, and the children can begin their visits in January.” She beamed.

  Adam appeared in Carly’s peripheral vision. She touched Ann’s arm, thinking to make her exit. “I’m excited. I’ll have Sherie call you to work out the details.” She noticed a flicker of disappointment in Ann’s eyes and hesitated. “Unless you want to tell me more about it now.”

  Ann followed Carly’s nervous glance. “Oh. I get it. You’re trying to avoid my pesky brother, aren’t you?”

  Carly sighed. “Too late for that.”

  “Sorry.”

  Carly gave her a genuine smile. “So tell me your plan.”

  “I’m rounding up adult volunteers, like my sister Faith, to act as chaperones and setting up a reading program. I’m also going to work with the Sunday school team to coordinate a quarterly program for the residents—an extension of what the kids learn in class. Some songs.”

  Carly caught her excitement. “That’s perfect. The reading will be regular, and the programs will witness to the residents who don’t have church backgrounds. I knew you’d be good at this.”

  “Good at what?” Adam placed a hand on Ann’s shoulder.

  Ignoring him, she told Carly, “I have lots of other ideas, too, but thought we should start with the obvious and easiest to implement.” She glanced at Adam. “I was just telling Carly how pesky you can be.”

  Feigning shock, he replied, “Well that was a waste of time. She already knows that. In fact I came over here to try and convince her otherwise.”

  “Good luck with that.”

  Carly’s heart sank as Ann waved, leaving them alone together. Her voice was unenthusiastic. “She’s agreed to head up the children’s volunteer program.”

  “She’ll be good at it. I’m glad you delegated it.” He leaned in to whisper, “Gives us more time to locate James Irish.”

  The heat rushed to Carly’s face, and she changed the topic. “Martha’s back at assisted living.”

  “That’s great. When’s her birthday?”

  “December 12.”

  “Not much time. Want to check out the bridge today?”

  “Sorry. I have plans with Aunt Fannie.”

  “What about tonight? I could come over and get started on that picket fence at your place.”

  She shook her head. “No, not today.”

  Aunt Fannie’s greeting couldn’t have been worse. “I’m ready whenever you are. It’s going to be fun checking out that old bridge. Take your time. I’ll meet you at the car.”

  Adam’s face, normally tanned year around,
suddenly paled. His lips tensed.

  “I’m sorry. I…” Carly faltered.

  He raised his hands to ward off her explanation. “Now I get it.” He turned away angrily.

  Several heads turned toward them. Blushing furiously, Carly lifted her chin and hurried to her aunt’s car. She got in, clenched her jaw, and slammed the door, turning on her aunt. “Why did you tell him we were going to the bridge?”

  But Fannie was unaffected by the angry outburst. “I’m baiting him, Honey. Showing him what he’s missing.”

  Carly ground out the words. “I don’t want to bait him. I want to forget him.”

  “Well he looked real mad. So maybe that’ll work out for you.”

  As they drove, Carly sank back in the car seat and poured out her misery. “One happy week, then everything fell apart. Within a few days I lost Adam, Martha went to the hospital, Nines’s cat died, and I lost the old black dog.” She swiped at her tears. “It was the last straw.”

  “Oh, now. That old dog was a nuisance, and you know it. What happened?”

  “He got old. Don’t ever get old, okay?”

  Auntie remained silent.

  “For a while now, I was delivering the stick to him up on his porch.”

  Auntie gasped. “You weren’t?”

  “Friday the porch was empty. He’s gone. And I don’t even know if he was loved.”

  Auntie pulled into her driveway and killed the engine. “I’m sorry. You’ve had it rough, for sure.”

  Carly nodded.

  “But today’s going to be different. Let’s go put the soup in a thermos and head out.” Auntie kept up a steady prattle after that, only pausing when they pulled into the parking lot at Larwood bridge. Then she snapped her mouth shut.

  Carly felt the blood drain from her face.

  Larwood bridge was under construction. Hurrying out of the car, she got as close as she could to the barricaded signs warning them to keep away.

  She didn’t hear Aunt Fannie’s approach. “Look at all those boards in a stack across the river. I’ll bet Martha’s initials are on one of them.”

  Carly looked at the pile of boards, then back at the forbidden construction-site warnings. The bridge’s floorboards had large gaps where the river showed through. “How do we get across? Is there a way around?”