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

by Beverly Lewis

  She knew right where to find Marcus’s small white gravestone, but she avoided making a beeline there, though she was ever so drawn to it. This was the first visit she hadn’t cried so hard it was difficult to see where she was walking.

  Locating her grandmother’s grave marker, Tessie peered down at it; the stone was darker than many that had been there for decades and longer. “I miss your comforting arms, Mammi Rosanna,” she whispered, smiling now at the lovely memory. “Do ya ever run into my Marcus over there in Gloryland?” She let the question hang in the air, knowing it was pointless to ask questions of the deceased. “If so, will ya tell him I love him dearly . . . and always will?” She let it go with that, lest she make a fool of herself to the cluster of robins preening and twittering on the nearby fence.

  She moved along, past Great-Aunt Elaine’s husband’s clean white stone, recalling how comical a man Pappy Amos had always been. Green-eyed Pappy had been like a grandpa to everyone, including those he wasn’t related to even a speck. “My sister and Sylvan are lookin’ after your widow,” Tessie Ann said softly. “Doin’ a gut and loving thing by her, too.” She let her gaze roam over to Marcus’s plot but still hung back. “So no worries . . . that is, if you even have any over in Glory. The bishop says all is joy, peace, and blessedness where the Lord Jesus is.”

  Tessie took her time as she finally walked to Marcus’s grave, imagining a few more weeks from now, when this serene spot would burst into leaf, bidding winter good-bye. She could nearly taste the smell of fresh black earth and newly plowed soil.

  “I’ve been talkin’ to the Lord a lot,” she said right out at her husband’s graveside. “Mamma says she thinks Levi Smucker really likes me, and quite a lot, too. Maybe even enough to marry me and help raise the baby.” Tessie had started more quietly, but her voice was more confident now as she went on. “I’ve told ya a-plenty ’bout this tiny sweet one growing inside me, Marcus. If it’s a boy, I’ll name him after you, my love. I hope you’re pleased and think this is as fine an idea as I do.”

  She didn’t say more, her words drying up as she enjoyed the light breeze, the sounds of birds, and the awareness that the earth was holding its breath for the next season—the glorious season of rebirth.

  Life, she thought, struggling very hard not to let emotion overtake her, not sure she could manage to keep the secluded world of her and the baby and Marcus’s memory intact. Would Levi’s interest in her weaken it? she wondered. Tessie decided to try her best not to let it do that as she headed for the cemetery gate and home.

  Chapter 34

  The cold blast, a distinct return to winter, swept in right about the time Mamma was putting the steaming hot food on the supper table—a big platter of roasted turkey and all the side dishes. She was quite chatty as she told Dat and Tessie Ann how she’d “had this hankering for some delicious turkey meat and thick gravy.” Naturally, Dat wouldn’t think of arguing with that.

  Tessie could hear the wind roaring against the eaves and rattling the windowpanes at the north end of the kitchen as they all sat down together and bowed their heads for the table blessing—that reverent and elongated silence before they passed the food.

  Waiting till her father had taken a few bites of mashed potatoes with plentiful gravy, seasoned as only Mamma could, Tessie said she had a favor to ask Dat. He looked up at her, his fork filled with moist turkey.

  “I’ve been thinking . . . and I wondered if you’d relay a message for me,” she said. “To Levi Smucker.”

  Dat’s eyebrows rose slightly, but he seemed to maintain control of his expression. “Be glad to.”

  Her parents exchanged a glance, and now it was Tessie who tried not to smile. “Tell him I accept—he’ll know what that means.”

  “All right, then,” Dat said.

  The rest of the meal was taken up with talk of her father’s plans to help Nate Kurtz oil and repair some farming equipment before the Lord’s Day. “’Course there’s the hog-butchering workday tomorrow, too,” Dat said. “Should be quite a doin’s.”

  “Maybe ya oughta reconsider going—help with cooking head scraps for liverwurst or some such,” Mamma suggested. “That way, ya can give Levi your message in person.”

  “Honestly, ’tis better like this,” Tessie insisted as she enjoyed the scrumptious meal. She had no wish to belabor the point.

  Thankfully, her parents let the matter be.

  That evening after supper dishes were washed and put away, Mandy sat down with her embroidery projects. She was lost in thought when she heard Sylvan wander into the utility room, then the kitchen. He came over to the table and pulled up a chair next to her beside the heater stove, folded his arms, and leaned back, watching her. “My work’s all done for the day,” he said, sounding relaxed.

  “So early?”

  “Had some extra help.” He didn’t twiddle his thumbs like usual, or seem in any hurry to go and do anything else in the house, either. “Would ya mind if I dropped by to see your shop sometime?” he asked.

  She stopped her work and looked over at him. “You want to?”

  He smiled. “I’d like to see how it’s laid out—got an addition to plan, after all.”

  “I’d like that just fine.”

  “Well then, so would I.”

  This pleased her down to her toes.

  And for the longest time, they sat and just talked. Sylvan mentioned Preacher Yoder’s planned expansion of his general store. “He’s doing it real soon, even before summer. Wants to bring in more odds and ends of things.”

  “It’d be nice if he’d stock bolts of dress fabric,” she said, surprised Sylvan was still listening and not yawning or distracted.

  “I’ll put a bug in his ear, how’s that?”

  “Denki.” She mentioned that she wanted to go over to Maryanna’s greenhouse sometime this week and pick up her garden seeds. “It’s already getting to be that time, ya know.”

  He nodded and brought up the farmers who were itching to start plowing and cultivating the ground for summer’s crops. “There’s always a bit of competition to see who’ll get the mule teams out first.” He chuckled.

  “Like we womenfolk, when we see who gets their washing out earliest in the morning,” she said, knotting off the last strand. “Why, I’ve heard of an Amishwoman in upstate New York who gets up before dawn to hang out a bunch of dry, clean clothes, trying to pass them off as already dry before the other womenfolk even have time to get their washing out on the line. Wants to make it look like she’s won that week’s competition, I guess.”

  Sylvan laughed heartily at that. “Not fair!”

  She decided to put away her needle and embroidery floss for the evening. Mandy could not have predicted that she’d feel so comfortable with him. She was truly enjoying herself.

  Sylvan leaned forward in his chair, startling her a bit, and reached for her hand. He cradled it in both of his and searched her face with his eyes. “I hope you know how much I love ya, Mandy.” His expression was earnest. “I truly do.”

  She smiled back, speechless. Never before had he spoken to her like this, not even during their short courtship.

  “And I’m sorry for treating you poorly, takin’ ya for granted.” He paused and looked down at their interlaced hands, then back up at her. “I could kick myself for not being mindful of your pain over . . . well, the past—you know what I’m talking ’bout.” He sighed, shaking his head. “That day you burned your old letters behind the woodshed . . . I should’ve . . .”

  “Ach, Sylvan.”

  “Nee—no, I wasn’t thinkin’ of you,” he admitted. “I was wrong, Mandy.”

  Her breath caught in her throat, and she rose to go and wrap her arms around his neck. “Oh, Sylvan . . . I was the one who was wrong,” she cried, cupping his face in her hands. “I was.”

  He sat her on his lap, and they wept shamelessly in each other’s arms. “I want to be a better husband to ya. More than anything, I want to make you happy,” he said and kisse
d her when she raised her face to his.

  She felt an unexplained joy in their embrace, a longing she had not known. And their tears soothed their fragile hearts.

  Not a lot more talking went on that evening, and later, after she’d turned off the small gas lamp on the dresser, Mandy recalled what Ella Mae Zook had once said to her. “We oughta be thankful the Lord doesn’t answer some of our prayers, jah?”

  Mandy couldn’t help but smile at that, and as she looked over at her sleeping husband, she knew it was ever so true. With all of her heart, she did.

  Very early the next morning, Mandy made Sylvan’s favorite breakfast of homemade waffles and fried eggs with Swiss cheese melted on top. Sylvan’s perpetual smile made her feel ever so lighthearted.

  Mandy didn’t inquire about his work for the rest of the week but was anxious to share her own plans with him. “Tomorrow I’m going to clean this big ol’ house but gut,” she said, excited at the prospect. “Spring cleaning, you know.”

  Sylvan looked up from his meal. “Ya mean you haven’t been cleaning gut before now?” He grinned at her.

  “Well, not the way I will this week.”

  “It ain’t our turn for Preachin’ service, is it?” He was becoming a tease—even winked at her.

  She shook her head. “Our turn’s comin’ early next summer. Sometime around the end of June, I think.”

  A faint smile touched his lips as he tilted his head, obviously enjoying the sight of her. “You look mighty nice today, dear.”

  It was almost like Sylvan was seeing her for the first time, but how could that be? Blushing, Mandy felt like a teenager. Was she falling in love with her own husband?

  She decided she would not only scrub and scour the main level of the house tomorrow, she would cook and bake, too, making Sylvan’s favorite foods.

  When Sylvan hurried out to the barn to tend to a few things before they were to head over to the hog butchering, she went to sit in the front room. The sun shone in through the easterly windows as Mandy read from the Psalms, thankful for the transformation between them—and clear out of the blue, too. Truly, she could hardly wait to see her husband walk in the back door once again.

  Later, once they arrived at the Smuckers’ big farmhouse, Mandy waved to Sylvan before she headed off to work with the womenfolk. With a wink, Sylvan waved right back.

  He seems so different. Then she wondered if it was really all him. Or have I changed, too?

  “No matter,” she whispered to herself. “Mamma was right . . . love has come a-callin’ at last.”

  Tessie hadn’t meant to be late for breakfast, but she’d overslept for the first time in years. When she walked into the kitchen, Dat and Mamma were already sitting at the table eating, their heads nearly touching. She paused in the doorway, her presence still unknown. She watched as they talked privately, the way two people do when they’ve known each other for nearly a lifetime.

  Then Dat looked over at Tessie and motioned her in. “Kumme have some breakfast, won’t ya?”

  “Plenty’s left over.” Mamma pointed to the skillet still on the stove.

  “Your Dawdi’s been askin’ for ya,” her father said.

  “Funny, I’d thought of goin’ over to see him while you’re at the butchering,” Tessie replied. “Is he under the weather, then?”

  Mamma shook her head. “Just lonesome’s all.”

  That makes two of us, Tessie thought. “Jah, I’ll head over once I finish hemming a dress.”

  She reached for a clean plate in the cupboard and dished up some scrambled eggs. Hesitating, she went to sit opposite Mamma, where big sister Miriam had always sat growing up, being the oldest of the girls. Tessie could see the hazy sunlight against the cold, stark trees from this particular spot, though she was surprised neither Dat nor Mamma seemed to mind that she’d rejected her usual place at the table.

  Mamma looked over at her. “We’re prayin’ for ya, daughter.”

  “Denki.” Tessie suspected who and what her parents were praying for. No need to guess about that. And, too, her upcoming confession must be looming in their minds. She was ever so sure.

  “Gut of you to drop by,” Dawdi Dave said while Tessie Ann slipped out of her warmest coat. “Won’t be needin’ that much longer, jah?”

  “Spring’s just down the block, though ya wouldn’t know it today.” She sat across from him in his small, rather empty front room. “Would ya like some hot coffee, maybe, or cocoa? I’d be happy to make some.”

  His gaze moved slowly around the place, like he was expecting her parents to come in and join her. Then he shook his head. “I’ve eaten my fill already, thanks to your Mamma.”

  “She came over to cook for ya earlier?” This surprised Tessie. “Guess I really slept in today.”

  “Well, you need plenty of rest. Ain’t?”

  “That’s what Mamma says.”

  “And you’re heeding that, I hope.”

  Tessie assured him she was doing everything in her power to be strong and fit for her baby.

  “Have ya got any names picked out? Or shouldn’t I ask?” he said, showing his teeth when he smiled. “Guess there are still a few left startin’ with M, ya know.” He grinned.

  “Plenty of time yet,” she said. “It’ll be Marcus, of course, if the baby’s a boy.”

  “And if a girl—what then?”

  “Not sure, really.” She didn’t say what she was thinking at that moment.

  Dawdi looked at her for the longest time, breathed in slowly, and said, “Ever wonder who named ya, Tessie?”

  “Jah, sometimes.” She laughed softly. “You must know me well.”

  “That don’t surprise me none. We’ve got the same blood flowin’ in our veins, ain’t?” He frowned a little then. “You and your father were always something real special together when you were just a little bitty thing. Do ya recall that, Tessie Ann?”

  She shook her head—she scarcely remembered a time when she had felt so close to Dat. “I was somethin’ of a tomboy, maybe?”

  “Not only that—as spoiled as a rotten apple, too.” He described her father’s joy that Tessie was born healthy in every way after the loss of two babies. “Your Dat was determined to name you himself, let me tell ya. Wanted something to set you apart, ’cause that’s what he felt sure you were—mighty special. What a blessing it was, the dear Lord seein’ fit for you to be born full-term. Ever so healthy, too.”

  Dawdi’s words were lovely to her ears. If she’d been told these things before, it must have happened in the wee hours, while Mamma’s whisperings crept into her newborn ears as she was nursed and rocked to sleep. “You’re full of secrets, Dawdi Dave,” she said, smiling at him.

  “Your father named you after your great-aunt Tessie Ann. He loved her dearly. She gave him his first Deitsch Bible before she died.”

  “Was she your older sister, Dawdi?”

  “Jah, and goodness but she was a lot like you. Outgoing and fun loving—and fiercely determined. She was even caught sitting in a tree a time or two, till her babies started a-comin’. . . then, well, I s’pose she had to grow up. Not that she wanted to, mind you. But I think her husband was relieved.” Dawdi let out a chuckle.

  “Goodness, do I ever understand that!” Tessie felt pleased, knowing her father had named her. Tessie Ann . . . a name to cherish. “Denki for tellin’ me, Dawdi.” She rose to stand at the narrow window looking out to Hickory Lane. “You know so many things ’bout our family.”

  “Well, and someday you’ll be the one tellin’ the stories to your grand-youngsters,” he said softly behind her. “And, Tessie girl, will ya also have to tell them how you refused to confess to the church?”

  She spun around. “Dawdi, I—”

  He waved his hand in front of his wrinkled face. “No need to fret, dear one. Just think ’bout what kind of legacy you want to pass on to the next generation . . . and the next.” He smiled here. “Ponder this before Sunday, won’t ya?”

  Tears fill
ed her eyes until the sight of him began to dim. “I love ya, Dawdi Dave.” She hurried to him and knelt next to his rocking chair. “Ach, I love ya so.”

  Chapter 35

  Before Mamma left for the quilting bee at Mary Beiler’s on Friday morning, she tried at the last minute to get Tessie to change her mind and come along, but Tessie opted to stay home. Afterward, she got busy scrubbing the kitchen sink and the counters, then wiped down all the appliances before going to dust the bookshelves. She removed the books on the shelves one by one, taking care to dust the tops of each before returning them to the gleaming shelf.

  While doing so, she recalled again the sweet love story she’d read and wondered if she might end up just as happy if she let Levi court her, for surely that’s where this was headed. She’d witnessed the affectionate look in his eyes when they’d last talked, here in her mother’s kitchen. She didn’t honestly know what would come of their second date, though, especially with next Preaching Sunday still ahead of them. Any minute now, good sense might hit Levi smack-dab between the eyes. And he had older brothers who could influence him. Siblings had a way of doing that—parents, too.

  Ach, I know that as well as anyone, if not better.

  At five o’clock sharp, Levi Smucker arrived in his father’s enclosed gray buggy. He bounded up to the back door and met Tessie there. She greeted him with a smile, saying she was just fine when he asked, “How are you, Tessie Ann?”

  They walked to the waiting horse and carriage, where he helped her inside. “Can’t tell ya how much I’ve looked forward to this night,” he said. “Seemed today would never get here!”