Covered Bridge Charm (31 page)

Reclining, he moaned. Not Dale. He almost didn’t answer, but an inner stirring made him reach for the phone.

“Hey, buddy.”

“Whoa. You sound tired. Did I mess up the time change?”

“No. Just a long day. I was turning in early. What’s up?”

“Bad news, I’m afraid.” After a moment of silence, Dale continued. “I had an accident. Broke my leg. I’m in a cast from my hip to my foot.”

Adam sat up. “What happened?”

Dale explained how he’d fallen off scaffolding and concluded with an appeal. “I need your help. I hate to ask, but I’ve got this job I need to complete, and you’ve got a plane ticket.”

“I’d like to help, but—“Adam hesitated, trying to word his rejection.

“I can put my other work off, but if you could just come for a couple days to finish this one job for me, I’d be grateful.”

Running his hand through his hair, Adam replied, “I’d like to, but we’re busy at the farm, and I don’t think I can get away. Don’t you have any employees who can finish the work for you?”

“Nobody. You know how I’m having trouble with help. My lead guy is going out of town for Thanksgiving. I thought maybe you could come for the holiday. I can put the job off that long.”

Adam’s mind scrambled over all that would be happening at the farm on Thanksgiving. His sisters and their husbands stepped up to handle the cut-your-own-tree lots. As long as they finished the commercial job, there was really no reason why he couldn’t take off some time. In fact, he’d already brought up the topic to Dad. “How many days would it take to finish the job?”

“Probably two days.”

“I could take four days max, including travel time.”

“I owe you. I’ll change your plane tickets and get back to you with the details.”

“Good.” But he knew it wasn’t going to be good when he told Dad his plans.

“One other thing. I got the information you wanted. On James Irish. Got a pen?”

Rummaging in his bedside drawer, Adam mumbled, “Jah, go ahead.”

“I couldn’t locate him. But he survived the war. And I have contact information for his grandson, Jason Irish.”

“Great!” Adam scribbled the information, thinking how happy Carly would be. Then it hit him. His promise to Dale might be hard to explain to her. In fact, she wouldn’t like it a bit. Might not trust him again. He told Dale to take care and recuperate, then fell onto his pillow in a sweat. Just when things were going great. But fatigue didn’t allow him to overthink it. With foreboding, he fell into a sleep riddled with troubling dreams.

W
hen James Irish’s grandson Jason agreed to meet them, Carly and Adam headed to Portland. They hadn’t given Jason the entire story, only that old friends were searching for his grandfather. He claimed James was living, but seemed protective of his grandfather and stipulated they meet alone.

Adam’s truck ate up the interstate as Carly took in the scenery. An hour and a half away, she didn’t get to Portland often. They passed small towns with food and gas exits. In the background green foothills and snow-capped mountains, like those familiar to Sweet Home, graced their travels. She remarked on the vineyards.

“You’ll be seeing more of those as ground disease destroys the tree farms,” he grimly stated.

“I didn’t know there was a problem.”

“Jah. It’s spreading through the region. We’re worried about our nobles, but so far it hasn’t reached our farm.”

“How does it spread?”

“Usually it comes with seedlings purchased from nurseries.”

“Oh.”

He changed the topic. “So how was work, the day after?”

He didn’t have to elaborate, because their adventure and kisses enveloped them like a bright cloud, never far from either of their thoughts. “It was rough. I had to move Nines’s furniture again.”

“And put it back?” he grinned.

“Exactly. And Mr. Gadget used a butter knife to remove his headboard again. That man is strong.”

“And determined. Seems like you could use a full time handyman just inside assisted living.”

“Rocco keeps busy, that’s for sure. Which reminds me. Training started for our first batch of volunteers. Your uncle made a gallant speech welcoming them. We talked a little bit, and he complimented me on the idea. Then he says, ‘Why didn’t we think of this sooner?’”

Adam grinned contritely for his relative. “You know he does that just to see your dimples.”

“So that’s a Lapp thing?”

“It appears so.”

“I’m nervous, Adam.”

Her nerves didn’t ease when a tall blond man greeted them at the door of his expensive condo, bearing a stony expression. It gentled somewhat as his blue gaze took in their plain clothing and Carly’s head covering. He invited them into a great room, impressive with tall ceilings and beams, and they sat on a leather sofa. “Can I get you a beverage?”

“No thanks.” Carly squirmed. “I’m sure you’re curious so we’ll get straight to the point. I work at an assisted-living facility in Sweet Home, and one of my residents is Martha Struder. She told me that the summer she was sixteen, she met your grandfather. They were in love that summer, but because they weren’t of the same faith, she had to sneak out to meet him at Larwood Covered Bridge.”

Jason remained quiet throughout the explanation, curious but cautious. “And you are telling me this because?”

“Because she’s depressed. Her eighty-fifth birthday is coming up, and I thought it would be fun to surprise her with news about James. You see after he enlisted in the military, she never heard from him again. And all these years, she’s wondered if he made it out alive. Wondered what happened to him.”

“That’s quite a story.” The broad-shouldered man studied them with a grim expression.

At this point, Adam jumped into the conversation. “According to Martha, your grandfather was in love with her, too. He carved their names and initials on the bridge. We found the old carvings.”

Jason tilted his head. “So you came to invite Gramps to the party?”

“He’s certainly welcome.” Carly smiled. “But I wanted to get his story. How is his health?”

Jason hesitated, then seeming to have made an inner decision, replied, “For his age, he’s robust. He doesn’t drive anymore. He uses hearing aids and a cane. He has in-home care. What about Martha?”

“She’s in assisted living because of her asthma. But she gets around well. She’s been sad since her husband died about a year ago, and I got this crazy idea that finding James might bring her some joy. Of course I didn’t know what we’d discover.” She glanced at Adam fondly. “We even went to the wrong bridge at first. But we found out Martha’s house burned down and she was living in a rental the summer she met your grandfather. That information led us to the right bridge. And finding their names and initials confirmed the story.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Some of the residents have dementia, you know.”

Jason grinned, revealing white, even teeth set in a generous mouth. “You’ve gone to a lot of trouble for Martha.”

“Jah. And I understand your reservations.”

Jason folded his hands. “Here’s what I’ll do. I’ll talk to Gramps, ask him about his old girlfriends. If he remembers Martha, I’ll ask if he wants to meet you. Is that fair enough?”

“Jah, that’s good. Her birthday is December 12.”

Jason nodded.

“Oh. Martha said when they met, he was fishing. He asked her if she wanted to bait his hook. He fished regularly by the bridge.”

“He does like to fish. So is Martha of your faith?”

“Jah. We’re Mennonite.”

Jason cracked his knuckles. “This should be interesting. I have a feeling there’ll be a birthday party to attend.”

Carly rose, and the men followed suit. “Thanks so much for your time.”

“It’s been my pleasure.”

On the way to Adam’s truck, Carly let out a long sigh, “Whew! He wasn’t very friendly at first.”

“Jah, and he thinks we can drive down here on a whim. He’s a little uppity for my taste.”

“But it’s not about him,” she reminded. “It’s about James Irish.”

On the drive home, Adam listened to Carly babble about her hopes regarding James Irish. She envisioned him coming to the center and playing bingo with Martha. She had him pegged as a charming man with amusing stories, who would liven up the center.

Adam had plenty of reservations. If the grandson was any indication of family genes, he would be a disagreeable old codger who falsely raised Martha’s hopes then irritated her with his stories of war and commerce.

But there was another annoying problem. It was only a couple of weeks until the party, and he was going to be gone over Thanksgiving. He didn’t know when he’d be able to bring Carly back to Portland to meet James. He felt she needed more of a chaperone than her aunt, who sometimes took Carly places. He’d need to forewarn Jimmy. But he didn’t relish telling that pessimist about his trip to Indiana.

Worst was breaking the news to Carly. He needed to do it now, because he’d learned the hard way what happened when he procrastinated.

As the truck licked up the miles, he grew restless. But next to him, Carly’s cheeks flushed with excitement, and her eyes sparkled with life. Normally, he’d be satisfied to absorb all her goodness. But he had a lifetime for that.

“How about stopping in Salem to get something to eat?”

“Jah, sure.”

They pulled into a popular pasta place and parked. Taking her hand, they started toward the restaurant’s entrance. “We need to start going on some real dates. Don’t you think?”

She squeezed his hand. “I’d love that. Though we’ve done some fun things.”

“You’re thinking about the kissing tree, aren’t you?” He enjoyed her blush and the fact that he’d rendered her speechless.

Inside, they sat at a round booth that allowed him to scoot close. A few glances lingered on them. While people in Salem were used to seeing Mennonites, many remained curious. Adam ignored them and concentrated on the adoration he saw in Carly’s eyes. “I always get lasagna in Italian restaurants.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed you were a plain guy like that.”

“I’ve been thinking that’s one of the reasons I love being around you. It forces me to be more adventurous.” She raised a brow, probably waiting for one of his quips, but he didn’t tease her about her escapades. Wanted to keep her in a good mood.

“Well there’s nothing plain about you,” she said.

“That’s because I’m a godsend.”

“Burr,” she corrected, closing her menu. “I’m getting the gnocchi.”

“Risky,” he teased.

After they ordered, she smiled confidently. “I have something to ask you. It might take you out of your comfort zone, but since that’s what you like…”

“Ask away.”

“Join us for Thanksgiving? Aunt Fannie invited Miranda, and Jimmy’ll be there. And Cocoa, of course. Turkey with all the trimmings, and it’s a tradition that we shell nuts. We could use the extra hand,” she joked.

Squirming, he stalled. “I didn’t know Jimmy’s dating Miranda.”

“They’ve had one date that I know of, but Auntie’s doing a bit of matchmaking. She really likes Miranda because it turns out she’s quite creative. Helps Auntie with her quilt patterns. Auntie wants me to embrace her as a friend.”

“Have you?”

“Not really, but Miranda’s growing on me.”

He’d give anything to watch Jimmy try and squirm out of Miranda’s clutches. It would have been more fun than what he had planned. “Actually, I was going to invite you to my family’s get together. Only now I can’t.”

“Why don’t you use your charm and try to persuade me? What time is it? Maybe we can do both.”

He took a sip of water and cleared his throat. “Here’s the deal. As much as I’d love to charm your socks off, I have to make a confession instead.”

Her expression fell. “All right. I’m listening.”

“Remember I told you that I’m not going to Indiana?”

“Jah,” she replied nervously.

He quickly assured, “That’s still true. I’m not. I’m staying and becoming Dad’s partner on the farm. And I’m dating the prettiest girl in Sweet Home.”

“Who just invited you to Thanksgiving and is listening to some sort of confession?”

“Right. And I would have charmed her socks off, only something’s come up. You’re probably not going to like it.” Her eyes grew wide and fearful, and he felt the pulse quickening in his neck. “Dale fell off some scaffolding and broke his leg. He’s in a huge cast. Now he wants me to change that ticket and go to Indiana and finish a job for him.”

She was stricken quiet. She pushed her glass aside, her eyes darting to the ceiling and back. “Wow.” She fastened her gaze on his. “But it’s your busy season.” She tilted her head, her brow wrinkled. “I thought there was tension between Roman and Simon. Did this cause trouble?”

“I haven’t told Dad yet. This time, I wanted you to be the first to know. But he’d already given me some time off at Thanksgiving, which I had planned to spend with you.” She didn’t smile, but continued to thoughtfully study him. “I’m not going to be gone that long. Only four days, including Thanksgiving.”

The waiter brought their meals, and while she was still processing the information he’d given her, they bowed to say a silent grace. He prayed fervently for her understanding. When he looked up the light had gone out of her eyes. He felt like a cad for disappointing her. “I’m sorry.”