The Bridge Read Online Free PDF Page B

Charlie would’ve remembered them anyway. Ryan stopped in every once in a while when he was in town. Charlie would ask how he was doing, but they’d lost touch enough over the years that the conversation was never very deep. As far as Charlie knew, Ryan was playing music for a country band. All grown up and famous. Charlie wasn’t sure if he ever married. Usually he talked more about Charlie than himself.
    Molly hadn’t been around since she left town afterher sophomore year. Married some guy on the West Coast, according to Ryan. Such a shame. The two of them should’ve found a way to stay together. Their differences couldn’t have compared to the way the two of them shone so brightly together. Even now Charlie believed that if The Bridge were still standing, still in business, one day Molly would come back. His customers always found a way back.
    But not if he closed his doors.
    He shut the scrapbook and slipped it carefully back into the drawer. Then he leaned against the wall and breathed in deep. The place smelled dank and moldy. He had plans to paint the walls and bring in new carpet, improvements that would remove the odor. The line of credit was supposed to pay for that, too.
    Father, what am I supposed to do? There has to be an answer. My dad said this would happen, and I never believed it, so You can’t let me fail. Please, God . .  .
    He turned and faced the wall, spread his hands against the cool bricks. The Union soldiers had felt warm and safe and dry here, as if things might turn out okay after all. He squeezed his eyes shut, his hands, his arms trembling from the great sorrow crushing in around him. That’s all I want, Lord . . . I’m begging You. Let me rebuild The Bridge so the flood doesn’t win. Give me the second chance Edna talked about. Please, Lord, show me how .
    A Scripture passage whispered in his mind, one he’d shared with customers on occasion. It was from Deuteronomy 20:1: When you go to war against your enemies and see horses and chariots and an army greater than yours, do not be afraid of them, because the Lord your God, who brought you up out of Egypt, will be with you .
    God had brought him out of Egypt, for sure, he and Donna both. Their own personal Egypt. A tragedy no one in Franklin knew anything about.
    That horrific time had led them to move here, to open The Bridge and find solace in books. It was the only thing Charlie could think of that might bring meaning to his life after what had happened. Painful memories tried to work their way to the forefront of his heart, but he refused them, refused to go back. He had the photos, the newspaper clippings, tucked in a small metal box in the drawer beside the scrapbook. He never opened it, never looked back.
    God had rescued them from that, Charlie had been completely convinced.
    Now he wasn’t so sure.
    Fear and panic stood on either side of him as he turned and faced the front of his store. He had one more shot, one more chance at finding a loan. The banker and his wife—longtime customers—lived in town. The banker ran the branch in Cool Springs. Charlie hadn’t wanted to borrow from someone he knew, but he had no choice. He would call in the morning and explain the situation. Then he would know for sure whether God was still with him.
    Or if He, too, had left Charlie Barton with the floodwater.

C HA P T E R  T H R E E

D onna Barton couldn’t stop crying.
    All her life she’d counted on Charlie. She relied on him and looked up to him, and from their first date, she’d come to expect his smile and optimism. Even at their lowest point as a couple, Charlie had been rock-solid. Unsinkable. His faith in God strong enough to keep them standing, whatever threatened to topple them. Even death couldn’t defeat Charlie Barton.
    Until now.
    Quiet sobs shook Donna’s thin shoulders as she drove south from Franklin to their small ranch house just outside town. She had held it together at the store, but she’d never