Dark Crossings (24 page)

CHAPTER EIGHT

O
N
THE
WAY
to John Miller’s house,
Lena passed his furniture shop. The Closed sign hung in the window, but the door
stood open slightly. She saw Isaac Bowman inside.

Seated on a tall stool in front of a workbench, he was bent
over something she couldn’t see, concentrating intently. It was late and there
was no one else about. Unobserved, she watched as he used a mallet and chisel
with meticulous care. What was he making?

Curiosity, and a burning desire to put off her meeting with the
school board, prompted her to step through the open door. As she did, Isaac held
up his project. It was the lid of a chest, with a beautifully carved bouquet of
roses inside an oval frame.

She knew from her conversations with Ruby that Isaac was a
wood-carver, but Lena had had no idea he possessed such skill. Could a man
capable of creating such beauty also be capable of illegally slaughtering
deer?

The time had come for her to ask him outright. Did she possess
enough courage? Would he understand her suspicions and forgive her if she was
wrong, or would she ruin the friendship growing between them?

He must have sensed her presence for he suddenly turned in her
direction. His eyes widened in surprise.

“
Gut-n-owed,
Lena.”

“Good evening to you, too, Isaac.”

“If you are looking for John, he has gone home.”

Lena knew she should leave, but something made her step closer.
“
Danki.
I will seek him there. You seem to be
hard at work.”

“Happily so. My orders are piling up fast.”

“I see why. Your work is exceptional.”

Like a moth to the light of a lantern, she felt irresistibly
drawn to this man for reasons she didn’t understand.

Isaac ran his hand across the surface of the carving. “My
grandfather was a master wood-carver. He taught me to respect the wood and to
try to understand it.”

Lena moved across the space until she stood at his elbow. She
gazed in wonder at the intricately carved flowers and leaves. “What did he mean
when he said you had to understand the wood?”

“Grandfather believed God has placed a story inside each piece
of wood and it is up to the carver to find that story.”

She ran her fingers over the crisp edges of the carving. “How
do you go about finding it?”

“Most of the time, I stare at a piece for a long while. I run
my hands over it to feel the grain and texture, and then it occurs to me what
the wood might like to say.”

Few people would have guessed that there was a sensitive and
intuitive soul inside Isaac’s big burly frame. She looked at him in a new light
and with new respect. “How did this piece tell you it held a bouquet of
roses?”

He laughed. “The woman who ordered this chest wanted a bouquet
of roses on the lid. I talked it over with the wood and the wood agreed. Would
you like to see some of my other pieces?”

Lena grinned and nodded. “I’d love to.”

He led the way to the back of the shop, where furniture in all
stages of completion was stacked in neat rows. Isaac pulled out a large
headboard. The finials had been carved to resemble pinecones, while crossed pine
branches were etched into the center of the piece.

Impressed with his skill, Lena said, “I see now where Ruby gets
her talent for drawing.”

“She tells me that you are an artist, too.”

Lena looked at him with joy. “She spoke to you?”

“Of course not. She wrote that you enjoy sketching.”

Disappointed, Lena shrugged. “I enjoy sketching, but my gift is
a small one.”

He studied her face intently. She realized they were alone
together inside the deserted building, and her pulse quickened. He stood close
enough that she could smell his masculine scent over the aroma of fresh cut
wood. His eyes darkened as he gazed at her. She had the oddest sensation that he
wanted to kiss her. Would she let him?

He suddenly stepped back. “Over here is a fireplace mantel I
finished yesterday. I knew as soon as I saw this piece of wood that it needed a
leaping buck on each end.”

Isaac opened a cardboard box and pulled aside the packing
material.

Lena stared at the mantel, stunned. It was a beautifully carved
piece of oak. She wasn’t shocked by the skill displayed; she was shocked to
recognize the animal he had etched into the wood. It was Snagglehead.

There was no mistaking the buck’s unusual, down-turned, twisted
antlers. The rendition was amazingly accurate. Isaac would have needed more than
a fleeting glimpse of the buck to portray him so well.

Lena glanced from the mantel to Isaac, who stood waiting for
her to comment. Snagglehead had been killed right after Isaac came to town. If
he had poached the deer and taken the head, he would have had ample opportunity
to study the animal’s unique horns.

Her stomach churned with anxiety. Did she really want to know
if he was one of the poachers?

Isaac’s smile vanished. “Is something wrong?”

“Lena, there you are.” John Miller stood in the doorway to the
shop, an expression of displeasure on his face. “Come along, I’d like to get
this meeting over with as soon as possible.”

She came back to the present with a painful thump. She had been
called to answer to the board for her actions, but she didn’t know why. Had John
discovered she’d gone behind his back by contacting Wilfred’s family? That was
the most likely reason. She mentally prepared herself to beg the board’s
forgiveness and admit her sin as she followed John to his front door.

* * *

I
SAAC
PUZZLED
OVER
Lena’s reaction to his mantel.
He was particularly pleased with this piece. It had taken all his skill to
convey an animal in motion. Lena seemed to like his other work.

Maybe she didn’t approve of carving animals in general. Some
might consider he was creating graven images by doing so. Perhaps the bishop of
this district forbid such things. Surely John would have mentioned it if that
were the case. Isaac would have to confer with the bishop before he joined this
new congregation. It might not be the church for him.

A half hour later he was still working, but kept an eye out for
Lena’s return. Suddenly he saw her rush past the door with her hands covering
her face. The sound of broken sobs reached him.

Dropping his tools, he raced out the door after her. “Lena,
what is wrong?”

He caught up with her beneath a streetlight near the shop. She
stopped and dropped her hands to her sides. “I’ve been fired.”

“What?” He gaped at her in stunned surprise.

“I’ve been fired. I’m to finish out the week, which is only
tomorrow, and then a new teacher will take over. All because I told Wilfred
Cummings’s granddaughter about the poaching even though I knew John wanted me to
ignore it. I don’t know how he found out.” Her eyes suddenly flashed with anger.
“Unless you told him.”

“Me? Why would I tell him?”

“To make sure I didn’t report it to anyone else.”

He didn’t know how to respond. She took a step closer and
jabbed a finger into his chest. “Did you tell John? Did you kill Snagglehead and
Goliath and who knows how many other deer? Tell me!”

She was like a spitting kitten attacking a bear. He took two
steps back, but still she advanced. “I want the truth, Isaac!”

He held his hands up. “Lena, calm down.”

“I am calm, and I want to know how you could carve Snagglehead
so exactly without staring at his severed head!”

This couldn’t be happening. The woman was unbalanced. He
grabbed her arms. “You are not making any sense. Who is Shaggyhead?”

Her eyes narrowed. “He’s the deer we found dead in the woods
the first day you came to my school. The one you carved so beautifully into that
fireplace mantel in John’s workshop. You couldn’t portray him so exactly from a
glimpse of him in the wild. What do you have to say for yourself?”

Isaac’s anger rose to match hers. She believed he was a
poacher! And to think he was beginning to fall for her. He gripped her hand and
pulled her along after him. “Come with me.”

“Let me go.”

He didn’t slow down. A kitten was really no match for an angry
bear. “Not until you’ve seen what I have to show you.”

“Do you have a mantel with Goliath’s head etched in it,
too?”

He didn’t reply until he was inside the shop by his workbench.
Releasing her, he pulled open a drawer and shook a piece of paper under her
nose. “This is how I knew what Bumblehead looked like.”

“Snagglehead.” She snatched the paper from his hand.

Lena didn’t want to give Isaac the satisfaction of looking at
the paper he shoved at her, but her angry outburst was beginning to wane and her
common sense had started to creep back in. For a guilty man, he looked very
indignant.

She opened the paper and stared at it. Her stomach dropped to
the level of her shoes. It was one of her sketches, one that she’d done of
Snagglehead last year.

Biting her lip, she looked up into Isaac’s smoldering eyes.
“Where did you get this?”

“I found it on the ground near the school.”

Lena folded her arms. “On the day you had in your sights the
biggest buck you’d ever seen? What luck that something scared him away.”

“How could you know that?” Isaac folded his arms to mimic her
stance. He looked much more imposing than she did.

“I was there. I was in the bell tower of the school. I saw it
all.”

“You scared the deer away?”

She raised her chin. “I did. You were hunting illegally.”

“Is that so?” He arched an eyebrow.

He looked so sure of himself, her confidence began to seep
away. “From my vantage point, it looked as if you were.”

“But from your vantage point you could not see the legal wild
boar permit and tag in my pocket.”

“Wild boar? There weren’t any wild boar in the field that day.”
She’d seen feral pigs numerous times in the past and knew what a nuisance they
presented, but she hadn’t noticed any when she’d seen Isaac for the first
time.

“No, they weren’t in the field. They were just beyond the trees
and moving toward a cornfield where I have permission to hunt.”

She wiped at the moisture on her face and sniffed once. “So you
weren’t aiming at the deer?”

“I was scouting the area. I saw your big deer and I did put my
sights on him, but he wasn’t what I was after. However…”

“When the deer spooked, the pigs did, too,” she finished for
him.

“There’s no sausage in my larder this fall.”

Lena pressed her hands to her forehead. “Oh, you must think I’m
ab im kopp
.”

He unfolded his arms and took her hands between his big
callused ones. “I don’t think you’re crazy. I think you are a woman who cares
for all God’s creatures. I’m so sorry my cousin fired you.”

“If you didn’t tell him I went to see Wilfred, who did?”

“I don’t know. It could have been anyone.”

“Isaac, can you forgive me for thinking such terrible things
about you?”

“In time—if I can see more of your sketches.”

“My drawings? Why?”

“The one I have was easy for me to copy in wood. There might be
others I could use. I would pay you for any I chose.”

“I will think about it.”

“Fair enough. It’s getting late. You should be getting home.
Where is your buggy?”

“Papa dropped me off.”

Isaac let go of her hands. She missed the strength and warmth
of his touch instantly. “Is he coming back for you?”

“Nay.”
She hated to admit it. “Papa
said a long walk to think over my sins would do my soul good.”

“Then I shall join you on your trek.”

Quickly, she shook her head. “You don’t have to do that.”

“But I do. I walked to work this morning, so I’m afoot, too. I
will get a lantern for us.”

“Is Ruby home alone?”

“
Nay,
she is spending the night
with a friend from school.”

“I am glad she is making friends here.”

* * *

L
ENA
WAS
GRATEFUL
for Isaac’s large, reassuring presence as they walked along
the verge of the highway. The night air was cold on her face, but there was no
wind to make it biting. Isaac’s lantern illuminated a small circle of the ground
before them, but didn’t reach into the dense forest that pressed close to the
roadway. Only a sliver of moon hung in the sky.

Until the poaching started, Lena wouldn’t have thought twice
about walking home alone in the dark. Now, that sense of safety was gone. She
wasn’t sure it would ever return. Her quiet, uneventful corner of the world had
been invaded by an evil presence.

She glanced at the tall man walking beside her. She was so glad
he wasn’t involved in the poaching.

As if he sensed her scrutiny, he looked her way. “My Ruby is
happier now than I have seen her in many, many months. I have you to thank for
that. You have been good for her in a way I could not be.”

Should she tell him that his daughter spoke? Lena had promised
her she wouldn’t. If only she knew why Ruby didn’t want her father to know.
“Ruby is a special girl. There is nothing I want more than to help her.”

“I see that about you. I wish I had your gift for making her
happy.”

Lena shoved her hands deeper into her coat pockets. Was this
the time to ask about his wife? She was certain her death held the key to
understanding Ruby’s silence.

Knowing it might shatter the tenuous relationship she sensed
growing between them, she hesitated, but finally said, “Isaac, can you tell me
about the day your wife died?”

Seeing the sadness that came over his face touched Lena deeply.
She wanted more than anything to comfort him, but wasn’t sure how to do that.
She laid her hand on his arm.