The Bridge of Peace by Cindy Woodsmall

the food on his plate, but Elsie remained still, staring out the window. The fact that she wasn’t pulling away gave him more hope than he’d had in ages.
    “You’re wrong.” Her words were barely audible. He waited, longing for her to say more, but she didn’t.
    “Okay,” he whispered. “But why and when and how? And how do we fix it?”
    “ Loss uns fische geh !” Ivan declared loudly.
    “ Ya, in paar Minudde .” Although Grey assured Ivan that they’d go fishing in a few minutes, he kept his eyes glued to Elsie.
    She shook her head, tears falling gently.
    “Can’t you just tell me some piece? I can’t understand without words.”
    “I … I know. I … think about saying things.” She laid her hand on her heart. “Words move through me like fish in a pond, but my pole has no hook, and I own no nets.” She turned the water on, washed her face, and dried it on a kitchen towel.
    Those few words were the most insight she’d given him in years, and now it was over. He could see it in her face. “We need help, Elsie.”
    “No.” She stiffened, eyes wide, staring at him in horror. He’d never hinted at bringing in the support group before. She was such a private person that it’d tear her up inside to share with others their awful, ugly truth. He knew that about her, but wasn’t the way they were living ripping her apart too? She probably took the idea of the council as his threatening her, but he saw it as the only option left. “Grey, please. Everyone will know everything if you do that.”
    “You know it’s handled as privately as possible. Only the church leaders, the three chosen couples, and a few others would have to know. But even if the whole community learned of it, we need help.”

    “You have the right to tell on me, and God is your witness that I deserve it, but … please.”
    He stared out the kitchen window, wondering if being married would always be like this—no way to win, no way to forfeit, only a way to carry on.

Six
    Standing beside the sink, Deborah counted out the last of the cash and shoved it into an envelope. The propane tank had to be filled early next week, or the gas stove would stop working. Thoughts of using the money Mahlon had sent tempted her. But how could she allow herself to use his money? He’d left them. Probably considered them a burden. Then he sent money?
    Feeling caught in a thorn patch, she placed a stamp on the envelope and headed for the mailbox. She’d taken only a few steps when the back door opened. Ada smiled as she entered, but there was no happiness inside her greeting.
    Deborah squared her shoulders, wanting to look strong for Ada. “You’re done with deliveries already?”
    Ada moved to a kitchen chair and sat. “Afraid not.” She wiped perspiration from her forehead. “It was so much easier when the bakery sent a courier to pick up and deliver our goods.”
    “What happened?”
    “Rosie went lame. I knew she was favoring her right front leg when I hitched her this morning. Anyway, I got our first delivery made and was halfway to the second when she refused to go any farther. At first I thought she was just being her usual obstinate self, but when I checked her out, I realized she’d thrown a shoe at some point, and her hoof is split pretty bad. It felt hot to me, so it’s probably infected.”

    Deborah’s skin tingled as stress crawled over her. Mahlon always took care of Ada’s horses. Deborah hadn’t even thought to look at the creature’s hoofs, and they’d been taking the poor girl on paved roads to make deliveries and to go to Dry Lake and back. No creature deserved that kind of treatment. “Where is she?”
    “Tied to a tree about a mile before Select Bakery. After she refused to go any farther, I made several trips back and forth, carrying as many boxed desserts as I could to the bakery. I took the most expensive and perishable ones, but cakes and pies get really heavy when toting them for a mile. I couldn’t