The Bridge of Peace (44 page)

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Authors: Cindy Woodsmall

BOOK: The Bridge of Peace
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Thirty-Eight

With a clipboard in hand, Grey cataloged the shop’s inventory. During his next break he’d write to Lennie. He wished he knew the words that would reach inside her heart and allow her to trust him. There were a lot of things about women he didn’t understand, but Lennie’s belief that men cared more about some physical feature than they did anything else baffled him.

“Grey,” Ephraim said.

“Ya?”

He pointed outside. Peter stood beside his horse at the hitching post. “He’s started this way half a dozen times. I asked him if I could help, and he muttered your name.”

“Thanks.” Grey strode outside. “Peter,” he spoke softly, but Peter jolted.

“Dwayne.” Peter gasped. “He … he says I’m too stupid to know … and maybe he’s right … but …”

“Peter, take a few breaths and slow down.”

Peter sucked in air as if he’d been held under water. “It’s my fault about Elsie. I should’ve come to you a long time ago. I … I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t cause Elsie’s death, Peter. And whatever you did do wrong, I’ve forgiven you.”

Specks of sweat beaded across Peter’s pale face. “You won’t believe me, and he’ll find a way to make me look like a liar.”

“I … I don’t understand.”

“This morning I saw Dwayne with a horseshoe attached to a baseball bat. It’s a weapon. I knew it the moment I saw it.”

Grey’s whole body jolted as if he’d been shot.

Peter wiped his eyes. “I made up an excuse and got Mamm to let me leave school early. As I came through the back field, I saw him leaving with it. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I’m just too stupid to add two and two, but I got a bad feeling about this, and he hates Lena.”

“You did the right thing.” Knowing his own horse was way out in the pasture, Grey grabbed the reins to Peter’s horse. “I’d like to get there quicklike. May I borrow your horse?”

“Sure.”

“There’s nothing stupid about what you’ve done here,” Grey said as he mounted, and then he spurred the animal hard. Dwayne had a mean streak, but surely he was all talk and no action.

No matter how much he tried to convince himself of Lennie’s safety, fear tightened around his throat. Thoughts of her being hurt tormented him. And when his greatest fear—losing her—danced a vision before him, he prayed for mercy.

A half mile before he came to the four-way stop, he pulled on the right rein, guiding the horse off the road and through a back pasture. Going this way would take half a mile off the trip. Images around him seemed to magnify as he flew across the field. The sky stood out as a brilliant blue. The hayfield went on for acres and acres, all filled with rich green blades of hay about two feet tall. Finally Lennie’s place came into view. Nicky’s angry bark echoed off the hills as Grey approached. He brought the horse to a halt, jumped off, and ran toward the house. Nicky leaped at the screen of the window, barking unlike he’d ever heard her before. The dog yapped and growled. The horse whinnied loudly. Lennie screamed. Grey ran as hard and fast toward the barn as he could.

Inside the shadows of the barn, Lennie fell back against the wooden slats of a half wall. Dwayne raised the bat. Grey bolted into the barn, coming between Dwayne and Lennie. Dwayne’s bat hit Grey’s ribcage, causing Dwayne to stumble backward. Searing pain shot down Grey’s left side, knocking the breath out of him.

Several seconds passed before he managed to jerk air into his lungs. He glanced to Lennie. Her eyes were closed, and she hadn’t budged. Alarm ran through him. Dwayne regained his footing but not before Grey took hold of a nearby bucket. He met the next blow of the bat with the bucket. The power of Dwayne’s swings caused fresh pain to keep pounding through Grey’s chest, and he grew weaker. “Put the bat down.”

“Make me.”

Holding on to the bucket, Grey deflected blow after blow, while backing Dwayne away from Lennie. The horse kicked and whinnied harder with each thudding sound. Grey saw a cattle prod in the horse’s stall. And Dwayne’s plan began to make sense—the bat with a horseshoe attached, the cattle prod, Dwayne fighting with Lena in the barn. “It’s over, Dwayne. No one is going to believe both of us were stomped to death by her horse. Put the bat down.”

Dwayne swung again and again, each time aiming for a different part of Grey. He warded off the blows with the bucket, but exhaustion and pain slowed him. Dwayne came at him again, and Grey went to his knees. Holding the bucket above his head, he withstood another hit. Something black lunged at Dwayne, hitting him square in the chest and knocking his upper body into the horse’s open stall. Nicky jumped back, barking like mad. The horse kicked and stomped as Dwayne tried to get out of the stall. Grey got to his feet and reached for Dwayne to pull him out. The horse kicked again, its back hoof catching Dwayne in the temple, and he fell over. Grey grabbed Dwayne by the feet and dragged him out of the stall.

He lay unmoving on the ground.

Grey ran to the half wall where Lena lay motionless. “Lennie.”

Nicky nudged her, licked her face, and whined. While going to his knees in front of Lennie, Grey patted the dog, unsure how she got out but thankful she had. “Sit.” Grey pointed, not wanting the dog’s excitement to jar Lennie. Nicky did, studying her owner.

Lennie rubbed her head, moaning. One arm lay lifeless, and she cradled it while slowly prying her eyes open. Fear owned him as memories of losing Elsie beat against him.

“Grey.” She gasped in pain before reaching for him. “You okay?”

“Ya.” He drew her fingers to his lips and kissed them. “I need to go get help. Just stay still, okay?”

“I’m not hurt bad. I promise.” Tears filled her eyes. “He only managed to hit my arm, and then I hit the back of my head on that wall when he pushed me.”

Grey kissed her forehead and her cheeks, breathing in the beauty of life. “I was so worried.” His lips moved over hers. He cradled her face. “I need to get us some help. You’ve got to be seen.”

“Dwayne?”

Grey turned to look at Dwayne’s still body. “I think he’s dead.”

The sound of hoofs grew louder until Ephraim came into sight, riding bareback. He brought his horse to a halt just outside the barn. “Peter said …” He studied the scene for a moment. “Do you need help?”

“Ya. I want Lennie seen, but we need a driver to take us.”

Ephraim took off for his place to make a call.

Lennie tried to stand. “I want out of here.”

Grey stood and helped her up. She moaned in pain. “My ankle’s hurt too. I don’t think I can put any weight on it.” She cradled her lifeless arm.

He gently steadied her, concerned about possible hidden injuries. After a glance at Dwayne, she buried her face against Grey’s chest.

“Kumm.” He wanted to carry her but feared he might make her injuries worse. Leaning on him, she slowly walked across the driveway and yard and to the steps of the front porch. The screen on one of the open windows was ripped. Nicky had jumped through it to get to them.

Lennie sat on a step. “If I’d followed my gut, I would’ve never stepped outside.”

Grey sat beside her, and she rested her head against his shoulder. “And if you hadn’t followed your instincts to have faith in Peter, he wouldn’t have come and told on his brother.”

Nicky put her head on Lennie’s lap.

Grey ran his hands over hers, feeling the softness of her skin, so grateful she was safe. “You know I love you, don’t you?”

“I want to believe that, but from the beginning I’ve had this catch inside me that makes me feel like you’re hiding something.”

She’d picked up on the lie he carried. But his life before her, the one between him and Elsie, would never be open for another woman to know about. His marriage deserved that much from him, didn’t it? He drew her fingers to his lips and kissed them. “Some things are best left alone, Lennie. I’m not one of your students for you to mold. Do you trust me?”

She said nothing for several long minutes.

“Grey?”

He kissed her forehead. “Ya?”

“If you’ll bring me a pot of daisies from the greenhouse while we wait for a driver, I’ll show you how to land on ‘she loves me.’”

He held her hand that wasn’t hurt and gently squeezed it. “I’d like that.”

“Lena.” Her Daed tapped on her bedroom door, waking her.

She moaned in pain while trying to sit up, realizing she still had Aaron’s letter in her hand. The pages of the lined paper crinkled as she shifted. “Ya?”

Midmorning sun streamed through her bedroom window. Nicky lay on the bed beside her. The dog had not let her get out of sight since she’d come home from her surgery at the hospital two weeks ago. Lena had a plate in her arm, a sprained ankle, a mild concussion, and a lot of bruises—all of which were diagnosed through the proper tests and addressed without a night’s stay at the hospital.

Her Daed eased the door open. “I wouldn’t wake you, except Peter’s here. He’s downstairs, hoping you’ll see him. Are you up to it?”

Two weeks of bed rest and she’d yet to have an easy day of recuperation. But she’d begun to need less pain medication and to feel a little stronger each day this week. The doctor had said the type of sprain she had meant she couldn’t put much weight on her leg. He gave her a medical boot to wear, but since she couldn’t use crutches because of the injury to her arm, she’d had to wait for her ankle to heal enough so she could walk using only the boot. She’d been able to get up and move around for short periods the last few days.

“Okay, I need a housecoat. Deborah and Cara washed clothes and put them away last night, so I’d look for it in the closet.”

While her Daed rummaged through her closet, she tucked Aaron’s letter under the covers, unwilling for anyone to catch a glance at its contents. He was doing well but knew he had a long way to go yet. He hadn’t chanced returning to Dry Lake for Dwayne’s funeral for fear of what it might do to him. It’d been hard for him to admit how blinded the alcohol had kept him. He’d thought Dwayne to be a better man than himself. The news that Dwayne had dismantled a part of the fence, purposefully making it easy for the bull to get into the wrong pasture, and had angered the bull with a cattle prod had only shifted Aaron’s sense of guilt, not removed it. The encouraging news was that Aaron continued on, not drinking since arriving at the Better Path.

Her Daed passed her a housecoat and eased pillows behind her back. With her arm in a cast and a lot of bruises, shifting didn’t come easy. After a little help from her Daed, she slid her good arm into her housecoat and hung the other side of the terry cloth cover-up around her shoulder.

“You getting hungry?”

Lena wrinkled her nose. “You doing the cooking?”

He laughed. “Ada’s here.”

“Again? And on a Saturday this time. That means she’s missing her busiest day at Ada’s House.”

Her Daed’s cheeks flushed. “With so many folks stopping by, she’s coming whenever she can to help fix desserts and coffee.”

“Well, I’m glad my suffering is working out so well for you.”

“Ya, me too.”

She laughed and then yelped with pain.

He placed her prayer Kapp on her head and kissed her through it. His hand rested on top of her head, and his eyes appeared to be misting.

Grey had saved her life and sustained three broken ribs from the hit he took for her. If Dwayne had hit her full force in the head, as he’d aimed to do with that one blow, she’d have died. The memories of that day were endless, rarely fading from her thoughts.

During that awful time she’d had the wisdom to stall Dwayne by getting him to talk. He’d been itching for years to brag about his genius in stealing from homes in her area, killing pets, and setting her up as his best victory yet. He saw her as no more valuable than a barn cat—to be done away with at will. She shuddered. Neither his viciousness nor his wanton desire to kill her could ever be fully explained.

He’d left a lot of bruises on her, but when he’d started swinging that bat, she dodged it, deflected it with boards, a saddle, and her now-injured arm. When he’d slung her against that wooden wall, knocking her unconscious and unable to defend herself, Grey arrived and took the blow for her.

“I’m safe, Daed.”

He cleared his throat. “You keep it that way.” He picked up a pitcher of water and poured her a glass before he opened a bottle of pain medicine. “Half a dozen girlfriends are also downstairs, hoping for another visit.”

“Don’t any of them have a Saturday job?”

He held out the glass of water and a pill. “I’m not asking that. You’re the one on enough pain meds to be so candid. You do it.”

She suppressed laughter. “I’d like to see Grey.”

“I know, and I’m sure he’d like to see you. Discretion says to wait.”

When she and Grey had returned from the hospital the day of the incident, her Daed had asked him not to stay and not to visit. While in the waiting room of the hospital during her surgery, Grey had to answer a lot of questions for the police and for the church leaders. According to her Daed, it didn’t take long for the church leaders to realize Grey cared for her. When they asked Grey, he didn’t deny it, and the church leaders began discussing what to do. A few hours later a preacher confided to her Daed that because Grey and Lena had been through so much together this past year, they were considering freeing him of the usual time restraints and protocol on a widower. But the preacher cautioned her Daed that Grey needed to keep his distance until a decision was reached.

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