Free Dark Crossings by Marta Perry Page B

would treasure a second one, if I had a
come-calling friend. I suppose I’d be off my bean enough to want one carved with
mushrooms.”
    He smiled at her, something she hadn’t seen much. “Then,” he
said, “I’d better pay more attention to mushrooms, and not only their virgin
spawn inoculator when I’m over there tonight. It will take me just a minute to
get some things together and lock up.” He turned out the light and headed for
the other bedroom, still talking over his shoulder. “For once, let’s go across
the bridge together. I don’t want you out there alone, especially not in the
dark.”
    Sounds came from his room: a closet door banged, a drawer
closed.
    “Okay, ja, ” she called to him.
“Only one more night, and we’ll have others to help us….” Her voice trailed off
wistfully. Despite the dangers, there was something wonderful about helping each
other, just the two of them against bad things in the world. But there was the
bright promise of a future, in the broad light of day or in the depths of night.
Surely, nothing evil could hurt them now.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    T HEY LOCKED THEMSELVES inside Abby’s
house. While Ben looked around, checking the windows, she fixed them mushroom
soup and sandwiches, and they ate by lantern light. Although they were both on
edge, Abby nearly nodded off after dinner.
    “I haven’t slept well since that first night I heard voices out
there,” she told him as she washed the dishes. “Sorry,” she added with a yawn.
“It’s not the company, really. I finally feel safe, now that you’re here.”
    “We’re both emotionally wrung out, plus you had that run
through the woods.” For the tenth time, he got up to glance out the windows
toward the bridge. “It would shock me if this turns out to just be pranksters
picking on a lone, isolated woman, but people are nuts these days. It will be
good to turn things over to Bishop Esh and the sheriff in the morning. I’ll put
my sleeping bag on your rag rug, stretched across the doorway between the living
room and kitchen.”
    “And,” she said, stacking the dishes in the rack to dry, “I’d
better take a bath and get to bed. I know I’m still a mess after hiding in that
log.”
    “You look great to me. A little wild, but as natural and lovely
as all of Eden County.” He turned toward her and she to him, between the table
and the sink. He gently tugged at a curl that had come loose from her kapp, and stroked the slant of her cheek with his
thumb. “Abby, thanks to you, I’m finally really happy to be home. Despite
everything we’ve been through here, I’m glad and grateful to have found
you.”
    It was going to happen again—a kiss, a caress. But then he
moved to the kitchen door, filling it completely, making the entire house seem
to shrink. She wanted to be kissed good-night. She could tell he wanted that,
too. But if they did, he’d have much more to confess to the bishop than he’d
planned. She had already stepped over the line with a shunned man and could be
put under the meidung, too.
    “Good night, then,” she said, and edged toward the door. “Turn
out the lantern when you’re ready, ja? ”
    “ Ja, Abigail Baughman.” He moved
slowly out of the doorway to let her pass. “There’s a worldly saying, ‘Tomorrow
is the first day of the rest of our lives.’ Let’s make that so.”
    Later, despite a warm bath, full stomach and utter exhaustion,
Abby had trouble sleeping again. Mostly because Ben was just one closed door and
one room—one shout—away.
    * * *
    A FTER BREAKFAST , Ben helped Abby harness Fern to the buggy. “I’ll walk
just ahead of you over the bridge, throw my stuff in the house, do a quick
change of clothes, then be ready to go,” he told her.
    “I hope you don’t mind driving that truck into town at about
four miles an hour,” she said as she climbed up and took the reins. “I could
start ahead of you.”
    “No way. Until I see you walk safely through the