Last Bride, The (Home to Hickory Hollow Book #5)

by Beverly Lewis

  She closed her eyes and dreamed of holding her own first baby, soft and tiny. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized the intensity of her maternal yearnings. But now, in the solitude of this haze, the baby’s sweet little face drew her deep into the dream.

  She awoke with a gasp. “Oh, dear Lord, may Thy will be done in this,” she prayed, the longing growing stronger as she thought of her older sisters’ dear children.

  Mandy was dismayed by her empty nest. It’s probably my fault. . . .

  Quickly, she rose and stumbled toward the front steps, then made her way around the north side of the house, where she noticed the bare places on the old rose arbor, the last roses of summer all gone.

  How much longer must I wait, Lord?

  At the sound of children, she turned to stare up the road. Here came the cutest little boy pulling a wagon with two smaller children, a girl and a boy, tucked inside. Straining into the morning light, she shielded her eyes and saw that it was Hallie’s three youngest. Goodness’ sake, if the blond boy pulling the wagon and walking confidently in his little black suspenders and blue button-down shirt wasn’t nearly a miniature of his uncle Norman.

  She waved at them, and the older lad towing the wagon turned into the driveway. “Hullo there,” she called, delighted by the company. “Wie geht’s, young Perry?”

  “Mamm said we could come over and visit for a while,” Perry replied with a slight lisp. The boy looked down at his younger brother and sister. “Gracie and Abe like to ride in the wagon.”

  “Well, yous are just in time,” Mandy said, thinking of the tasty pies. They might have to cool a bit more, but she could offer the children some with ice cream, if Hallie wouldn’t mind them eating between meals. “Hungry for a snack, just maybe?”

  At the mention of food, Gracie and Abe scrambled out of the wagon, and all of them filed up the front porch steps and into the house. Perry sniffed as he followed the tempting aroma.

  Truth be told, their being here was a treat. Sure, there were plenty of opportunities for visits with Mandy’s nieces and nephews, but the days could be terribly lonely with Sylvan out managing the steers.

  She got the children seated at the table, then went to check to see just how hot the pies were. “Do ya like apple pie?” she asked as she poured them each some milk.

  At their unison “jah,” she explained that they’d have to wait a little while, till the pies were cooler.

  “Put one in the fridge, maybe,” young Perry suggested. His blue eyes sparkled as he tugged on his thin suspenders. “Might hurry it up, ya know.”

  Mandy laughed right out loud. “Why, of course it will.” And she did just that.

  Marcus waited till that evening to write in his black ledger-like journal, a habit he’d indulged in since beginning to court, even though none of the men in his family or circle of friends did so—unless one counted his father’s running account of the weather, feed prices, and suchlike.

  Monday, September 23

  Went to Chester County with Tessie Miller to apply for our marriage license. Now comes the three-day waiting period . . . though I’m uncertain yet if we’ll marry at the end of this week or wait till after the Lord’s Day. Tessie wants me to choose the actual date. May the time pass quickly!

  My bride-to-be is the prettiest and kindest young woman in Hickory Hollow, and even though her father is against our marrying, I feel honored that Tessie will soon become my wife. I’m mighty sure it won’t take long for Ammon to see that we belong together—once he knows. Meanwhile, we’ll wait to declare our marriage till the time is right. Tessie will stay put, living with her family, and I’ll move into the rental house and get things set up for her to join me. I’ll have to disconnect the electric right quick. Wouldn’t want Bishop John upset at me for anything such as that, not when he’ll eventually hear that I ran off to marry Tessie in the English world.

  One thing’s certain: There’s far less planning and expense involved, which makes me wonder why more young couples aren’t tempted to do this. Of course, I daresay most don’t have to put up with such resistance from a future father-in-law! And what Amish couple wouldn’t prefer an Amish wedding?

  God sees my heart . . . and Tessie’s, too. Things will be just fine, given a few more weeks.

  Chapter 4

  The next morning, Tessie kept busy pressing the hand-washed Kapps—hers and Mamma’s. While she ironed, she considered yesterday’s trip to West Chester and relived her feelings as she’d walked into the courthouse, feelings of excitement and also trepidation. There was no question that she and Marcus were pushing the boundaries of the Hickory Hollow church, being there in the first place.

  After the noon meal, she helped clean, skin, and cut up a whole chicken for supper. Tessie did not make eye contact with Mamma, because one cautious look from her and Mamma might suspect something. She was known to read Tessie like the books lining the kitchen shelves. And up until she’d started seeing Marcus King seriously, she and her mother had been very close.

  Tessie thought fondly of her overflowing hope chest, wishing she might use the many homemade items right away to set up housekeeping with Marcus. Even so, patience was a true virtue. “Good things come to those who wait,” the Wise Woman was known to say. Tessie must wait for Marcus to say just when, and try to keep an agreeable attitude, too. Sometimes the hardest part of all.

  Mamma finally broke the stillness later that day, after supper. “You’re quieter than usual, dear.”

  “Maybe so.” Tessie kept her eyes on her devotional book as she sat in the front room. They were waiting for her father to return from visiting Dawdi Dave, where he’d gone to share a slice of Mandy’s gift of apple pie. The tranquil, reverent hour for family Bible reading and evening prayers was upon them, yet Tessie’s thoughts were a whirl. She felt both nervous and giddy about her and Marcus’s plans—the most peculiar combination of emotions she’d ever experienced.

  “Cat’s got your tongue?” Mamma said, tilting her head and eyeing her further. “What’s a-matter?”

  “Nothin’s wrong, Mamma.”

  “Ach, you can’t fool me.”

  “I’m fine, really.” She made the mistake of glancing up and seeing Mamma’s deep azure eyes still studying her from across the room.

  “Goodness, Tessie girl, you look awful pale. Are you sure you’re not ill?”

  “I feel all right,” she said, thinking the more her mother kept at it, the more likely she would feel sick. She changed the subject. “I wonder if Mandy’s busy tonight.”

  “Well, you can go on over and see, I ’spect. Unless you’re more interested in the old oak tree out back.” Here, Mamma smiled.

  Tessie decided it might be a good idea to visit Mandy after silent prayers. But what if she started asking questions, too? After all, Mandy had seen her dashing up the road yesterday to meet Marcus. No, the more Tessie considered it, the more she knew that a visit to Mandy was not at all prudent.

  Oh, if only she could talk to Marcus, even for a brief time. That would help calm her some. She felt so guilty. Would Mamma discover she’d disregarded their wishes? Her mother had a way of fishing things out of her.

  My joy might be fleeting, she realized as she heard the back door creak open and Dat shuffle onto the porch.

  The following day, Mandy enjoyed the familiar prattle of dozens of first cousins, all women between courting and middle age. She searched her aunt’s kitchen and adjoining rooms for Tessie, hoping to sit with her. Mandy had brought along a generous supply of ham-and-cheese sandwiches to share at the noon meal, carrying in a food hamper from her carriage just as others had.

  “Ach, there you are!” she said, touching Tessie’s elbow.

  Her sister turned and smiled. “Hullo, Mandy.”

  “I see you made it. ’Tis gut.”

  Tessie nodded, but her smile was less than convincing. “I decided to come at the last minute.”

  “Well, glad ya did.”

  Tessie was tight-lipped to
day, and her eyes scanned the room, which made Mandy wonder what was wrong. Was Tessie nervous about seeing someone, maybe? For her friendly, well-loved sister, this was so out of character. What had happened to the carefree, self-assured Tessie Ann?

  Together, they returned to the kitchen, where the large table was already filled with cousins. Seeing that, the two of them went to sit at a big folding table set up at the far end.

  “It’s like we’ve been shunned,” Mandy whispered, smiling.

  “Sister, for goodness’ sake!” Tessie rebuked her.

  More cousins were already upstairs sweeping and washing floors, and some were outside beating throw rugs. Still other young women sat at tables in the front room, working on various mending projects and jabbering in Deitsch. It was going to be a wonderful-good frolic, to be sure.

  Mandy and Tessie sat alone for only a few minutes at their separate table before two more cousins came in the back door. “We’re eager to get our hands into some dough,” Emmalyn’s older sister Faye said happily as she and her sister Becky sat down with Mandy and Tessie. These married cousins lived on the far east side of Hickory Hollow, and it was good to see them, since it wasn’t often Mandy got over to either of their homes. Becky, especially, had a talk on, telling about her four little ones, including a set of twins. Faye, too, seemed to want to share about her babies and even hinted that she hoped she was expecting yet again.

  Tessie glanced at Mandy, her expression turning sympathetic, and Mandy appreciated that, guessing her sister understood what she must be feeling. Yet Mandy wished they might have had time alone before these chatty cousins arrived, because Tessie was definitely not herself. Mandy had never seen her so verleedich—downhearted.

  Tessie wished she’d stayed home from yesterday’s hen party even as she retrieved the letter that arrived in the mail the following day. She’d felt as if everyone could guess she was up to something—Mandy in particular had seemed concerned.

  She sighed and opened the letter. Marcus had written to say he was moving into the rental house that very afternoon, once he returned from helping fill silo for Paul Hostetler up the road. Marcus evidently had received some nice wood furnishings donated by relatives. Most of my family suspects I’m getting hitched later this fall, but I haven’t confirmed that, not even with Daed.

  What matters most now is that you’ll meet me tomorrow morning near Maryanna Esh’s grove of trees. If you’re still in agreement, I’ve got a van driver lined up for us.

  Since there was so little time, Tessie would have to write back and slip the letter into his mailbox yet today. Busy as he was during daylight hours and after—and now with setting up the house, too—there was just no telling how to track him down. “I need to give Marcus my answer,” she whispered, holding the letter against her heart.

  As soon as possible!

  Marcus opened the pages of his journal later that night. He felt an urgency to document their elopement since he and Tessie were missing out, not having a typical Amish church wedding. Keeping such an account would in no way help that, but it might be something to show their children someday.

  Thursday, September 26

  My last day as a single man. I found a letter from Tessie Ann tucked into the mailbox on my front porch. Her words were exciting, just knowing she truly wants to become my bride tomorrow. She has always had an encouraging way about her, and I’m grateful. Some men’s wives are just the opposite.

  I am considering when we’ll manage our first night together, since tomorrow is Friday. We cannot afford to have Ammon wondering why Tessie’s out late on a weeknight. If only we could have gone to the courthouse on a Saturday!

  At least everything else is set in place. I have cash to pay the judge and I’ve told my boss I’ll be off work tomorrow. I’ve also made reservations at the Kling House Restaurant, where I’ve requested a table near the wood-burning fireplace—more private there, I think. We’ll have us a wonderful-gut meal to start our happy life.

  One thing is up in the air: two required witnesses. There is no one from Hickory Hollow I want to entrust with our secret. I’m looking to God for this necessary detail.

  Tessie waited till after dusk, then hurried up the road to her childhood home, needing some alone time in her favorite old tree. The gas lamp burned gaily in Mandy’s roomy kitchen as Tessie ran past the east side of the house, glad for the solitude. Going to the splendid gnarled oak, she deftly climbed to the familiar branch.

  So many happy times here as a girl.

  Once she was settled, she tucked her long dress and apron tightly between her knees and leaned on the strong limb, feeling the lingering warmth from the sun-drenched afternoon. Tessie recalled how terribly skinny she’d been, no matter how much she ate, back when she’d first managed to clamber up this high. Even all those years ago, Mamma had called her a dreamer of many dreams. “Ach, so many,” Mamma sometimes would add with a shake of her head.

  “She could have said I was an odd duck,” Tessie whispered aloud.

  From her lovely spot, she could see the fair moon rising in the distance, just above the Wise Woman’s little house. “Denki, Gott, for this special haven,” she whispered into the twilight, wondering what Marcus would think if he could see her this minute.

  She prayed more fervently in her perch, asking the heavenly Father to permit things to go smoothly tomorrow. It troubled her that Dat had mentioned Levi Smucker again just today, but if he was holding out hope for a match between them, it was a poor excuse for him to reject Marcus, she thought with a grimace. Just look at how her father had finagled things with Mandy, getting the upper hand in her marriage! But Mandy wore a mostly cheerful face, and she rarely talked about what was basically an arranged marriage. Unheard of around here, thought Tessie.

  Yawning, she stared at a glimmer of lights coming from a buggy as it made its way down Hickory Lane, the sound of the horse’s hooves muted in the growing darkness. Over yonder, at Bishop John Beiler’s farm, she saw what looked to be a large flashlight bobbing along—the bishop must be out checking his barn animals once more before heading inside for the night.

  She imagined the lights of Bird-in-Hand farther to the west in the distance. And Tessie realized this was the last time she would sit up here praying and thinking her private thoughts as a single woman.

  “Some things happen exactly once,” she murmured, thinking of the moment she’d first noticed her beau’s contagious smile. It had been on his eighth birthday, as he received a pony from his grandparents. The sight was something akin to spotting your first-ever sunrise or the joyous, breathtaking birth of a brand-new calf.

  Or . . . uniting in marriage with your one and only love.

  Chapter 5

  Tessie awakened the next morning to the soft, lamenting sound of mourning doves . . . and prickles of anticipation. She flung off her quilt and flew out of bed, heading downstairs to wash and dress.

  Swiftly, she returned to her room, where she pushed the only chair over near the window and looked out at the nicely landscaped flower beds she and Mamma had created together when Dat purchased this new place. So many satisfying hours spent with her mother, talking about what to plant and where.

  Sighing, she turned to the Psalms in the Good Book. Cause me to hear thy lovingkindness in the morning; for in thee do I trust: cause me to know the way wherein I should walk; for I lift up my soul unto thee.

  As she read, she kept her ear tuned for sounds of life in the kitchen below. Her fondest thoughts were of dear Marcus, and she prayed for a blessing on this, their rather strange wedding day. With all of her heart, Tessie hoped this was God’s will for her.

  For us, she thought.

  When it was time, she made her way down the long staircase to help her mother make oatmeal and sausage patties for breakfast. She mentioned the mourning doves, and Mamma said she, too, had noticed quite a few flitting about the trees down near the road, singing their haunting song.

  Later, Tessie dusted the entire upstairs, p
aying special attention to the many windowsills and making note that the windows all needed cleaning soon, inside and out.

  By that time, Mamma had taken their fastest road horse and family carriage to run errands, which was a godsend, since Tessie wanted to bathe and put on her best blue dress and matching apron before leaving to meet Marcus. She wouldn’t wear her white for-gut apron, though, not wanting to call too much attention to the nicer clothes. Ach, I’m breaking with Amish tradition in every way possible. She didn’t recall Marcus saying anything about dressing up for the day, although typically he dressed better when going to town, just as all the men did—Tessie’s father included.

  Oh, Dat. She struggled with apprehension. I hope you can forgive what I’m about to do. . . .

  She made her way down their long paved lane to the main road and glanced at the sign her father had constructed the day they’d moved in. Mandy’s husband, Sylvan, had helped dig a post hole to secure the pole at the end of their driveway, and Dat had painted the words Ammon’s Way in perfect black lettering, large and bold enough to see for quite a distance.

  Ammon’s way, she thought. “In every way,” she whispered, conscious yet again that she was defying her parents’ wishes.

  Turning onto the wider road, Tessie walked toward Marcus’s house and purposely pushed away such thoughts. She lifted her gaze to the remarkably clear blue of the sky and saw not a puff of a cloud anywhere.

  Perhaps it’s an answer to my first prayer today, she mused.

  She spotted a buggy coming toward her and soon recognized round-faced Rhoda Kurtz and her friendly neighbor Rebecca Lapp, both women waving and smiling. “Isn’t that one of your best dresses?” Rebecca asked when the carriage drew near. “It’s too late for market, so you must be goin’ visiting, ain’t?”