Last Bride, The (Home to Hickory Hollow Book #5) (2 page)

Her heart nearly stopped at the kiss. Oh, such joy!
Dearest Marcus
. . .

“Let’s talk again tomorrow,” he added. “Meet me behind the house I’m goin’ to rent—in faith that we’ll move in sooner rather than later.”

“You’ll sign the lease, then?” She was surprised but very pleased.

“Sure, I’ll move in an’ get things set up for us right quick.” He paused. “You’ll join me there, once your father sees the light.” With that, he turned to head up the road.

Tessie watched him go, the fingers of her right hand resting lightly on her lips.

In the near distance, she heard her father calling. She cringed, but his call was meant for Mamma. And Tessie was ever so relieved he hadn’t seen her rush out here after Marcus—or witnessed their first kiss!

M
andy Yoder was hanging out a small last-minute washing when she noticed Marcus King swiftly making his way up Hickory Lane. By his determined stride, she assumed he was angry. Then, lo and behold, her youngest sister, Tessie Ann, suddenly appeared, her apron flying as she ran, calling after him.

Goodness,
thought Mandy, a wooden clothespin stuck firmly between her lips. She paused and studied the couple from her somewhat hilly spot not far from the spread of land that presently belonged to her father. Truth be told, she wished her parents hadn’t moved in so close to her and Sylvan, considering how she sometimes felt about Dat’s insistence on her marrying a man of
his
choosing. It was downright uncomfortable. And she and Sylvan had her parents over for supper more often than she preferred to, really. It was Sylvan who was enamored with the idea of bonding the two generations.

Sighing, she shook out her husband’s sopping wet shirt before pinning it securely to the long clothesline that stretched
between the large house and the horse stable. She ought to be more grateful, Mandy knew, and it wasn’t that she disliked having her family so near. The struggles, the memories were still fresh at times. So many things had transpired to bring her to this point—married to Sylvan Yoder two years this November.

Certainly her husband was a kind enough man, and Mandy was trying to make the best of things. She glanced back at the road, hoping she was inconspicuous as she watched Tessie touch her fair-haired beau’s hand, smiling up at him. Their kiss stirred up past recollections, and Mandy remembered too well the endearing look on another young man’s face. How he’d commented so often on her
“perty flaxen
hair.”
She shook her head, brushing away the memory.

“Be ever so happy, Tessie,” she whispered wistfully. “When ya find your heart mate, never let him go. . . .”

But she must not let herself fall into the trap of remembering, mustn’t think back to her whirlwind courtship with Norman Byler, cut short by her father’s harsh decree.

Just last week, Norm’s older sister Hallie had received word from her long-lost brother and came rushing over to tell Mandy while Sylvan was gone to the barn.
“Norm
might be comin’ for a visit sometime this fall,”
Hallie told her, eyes bright with the unexpected news.

“For how
long?”
Mandy had asked. It had been three years since Norm left with a dozen other young men for Nappanee, Indiana, the lot of them quietly traded for the same number of Nappanee fellows. All for the purpose of strengthening the gene pool in both locations. Sadly, four more children had succumbed to fatal genetic diseases in the Hickory Hollow area in just this past year.

Hallie’s brown eyes had penetrated Mandy’s as she said she didn’t know how long Norman would stick around. After all, he hadn’t been home but once since he’d left, and his family surely missed him. And Hallie hadn’t stayed even long enough to sit down and have some sweet bread and coffee. Mandy had wondered at her visit; Norm’s whereabouts really didn’t matter to Mandy. Not anymore.

Whatever their problems—especially their beginnings—she and Sylvan were married now, and Mandy’s loyalty was reserved solely for her husband. “Till the Lord separates us at death,” she reaffirmed as she admired the neat lineup of washing fluttering in the clean autumn breeze. She carried the empty wicker basket to the house and set it down in the outer room, where Sylvan’s work boots and their other shoes were placed neatly in cubbies he’d built along one long wall. The minute Mandy stepped into the kitchen, she flung wide the windows there and in the front room. Every single one.

“Honestly, have ya ever heard of a father forbidding his daughter to marry?” Marcus tried very hard not to raise his voice. He’d gone walking after his encounter with Tessie, out there in broad daylight, and somehow or other he’d ended up near the Wise Woman’s place. Going to see Ella Mae Zook was something he’d never thought of doing in his nineteen years, counselor though she was to many in the neighborhood. Still, he’d spotted her out tending to her orange and gold mums, lean as kindling. When the elderly woman waved
him over, inviting him to sit with her for a moment on the porch, Marcus found himself following his feet.

“Well, now, maybe you could fill in some of the cracks for me.” Her gentle voice was just what he needed. He’d already mentioned his disappointment with his sweetheart-girl’s father, trying to be vague and discreet—till he’d let the name Ammon Miller slip.

“I believe I’ve told you all I know,” he said, which was the truth. You couldn’t lie to a woman like Ella Mae—anyone knew that. “Her father’s put his foot down, and that’s that.”

“Without an explanation?”

“
Kenner—
none.”

“I see.” She slowed her rocking some. “Must be a bit unnerving.”

“Not even Tessie knows what’s up.”

Ella Mae jerked her little white head around to face him. “Say, now, wouldn’t have anything to do with her bein’ his last daughter, would it?”

“Well, you’d think he’d want to make sure she gets hitched up. Ain’t?”

“Might be he’s overly protective ’cause she’s the youngest, though.”

He could see that.
Just maybe.

“I ’spect you’ve talked this over with the Good Lord.”

“Wouldn’t think of movin’ forward otherwise.”

“Sounds like you’ve decided
something
, then.”

Marcus gave a nod, but he wouldn’t reveal what.

Rolling her eyes, Ella Mae waved her delicate hands in front of her. “Far be it from me to probe.” She laughed softly, and he did, too.

To his surprise, Marcus realized he wasn’t nearly as wound up as before, sitting there in the morning sunshine and talking right slow with the hollow’s well-liked sage. Small but mighty. A woman who very well could have been his own great-
Grandmammi
, if she weren’t already related in some other distant manner. After all, weren’t they all closely connected in Hickory Hollow? By faith and by blood.

“I ’spect I could use any
Gscheidheit
ya might have for me.”

“Wisdom, you say? Well, now, if I walked in your shoes, I’d prob’ly let patience ‘have her perfect work.’”

“So you think I should back away from what I believe is right?”

“Didn’t say that.” She gave a faint smile. “But it’d be a mighty sensible thing to have your in-laws-to-be on your side if the time comes, ain’t so?”

He wasn’t sure that would happen very soon; Ammon Miller’s piercing look was still too fresh in his recollection.

“At least think ’bout not rushing ahead with something that can’t be undone,” Ella Mae suggested.

“I’ve pondered this so hard, it feels like boulders pinning me to the bed at night. I
want
to marry this girl,” he insisted.

“And nothin’ will stop ya?” Ella Mae frowned. “Not even the lack of her father’s blessing?”

“I
love
her,” Marcus declared. “No one else will do: I want Tessie Ann Miller for my bride.”

“No need shedding a tear,” Mamma said as Tessie sat across from her at the kitchen table, mending a pair of Dat’s work
trousers. “Ain’t like there aren’t plenty of single young men your age just waitin’ to get to know a nice girl like you . . . including several fellows from Indiana.”

The traded men,
Tessie thought with annoyance.

“And don’t forget ’bout Levi Smucker,” Mamma added. “Your father thinks a lot of
him
.”

Tessie struggled to conceal her disgust at her father’s meddling suggestions. He’d already spoiled Mandy’s life.
I won’t
let him ruin mine, too.

Her mother peered over her glasses, big blue eyes accentuated by the recent new prescription. “You all right?”

Tessie wanted so much to say what she was thinking and get it over with:
“You
don’t understand, Mamma. How could you suggest such a
thing?”
Instead she merely said, “I ’spect so,” then pressed her lips together real hard and tried her best to make small, tidy stitches.

“
Gut
, then.” Mamma nodded as if satisfied. “Heard tell your cousin Emmalyn Lapp and her Mamma are hosting a hen party next Wednesday . . . makin’ big batches of cookie dough and tending to a few other chores, ya know.”

Tessie loved this particular first cousin and wouldn’t think of missing out on spending time with opinionated but sweet Emmalyn—more like a sister than any of Tessie’s other girl cousins. Nearly seventy, and counting.

Might be one of the last times I’ll go
anywhere single.
She surprised herself at the thought—had her heart already agreed to elope with Marcus? His eager kisses signaled his unwavering commitment, and she was willing to follow his lead.
Anywhere at all.

F
or an instant, Mandy was befuddled as to what she saw out on the road Monday morning. She’d taken two circle letters to the mailbox and had just pushed the flag up when she heard someone humming. When she turned to look, she waved at Tessie, who was wearing her pretty plum-colored dress and matching apron as she came this way.

“Hullo,
Schweschder
!” Mandy smiled, still more curious as she noticed her sister’s for-
gut
shoes. “Where ya headed this fine sunny day?”

“Just up a ways.”

“I see that.” She waited a moment for Tessie to say more. When it seemed that she would not, Mandy added, “Well, have yourself a right nice time, wherever it is you’re dashing off to.”

“All right, then.” Tessie gave her a halfhearted wave.

“Say, are ya plannin’ to go to Cousin Emmalyn’s party this week?” Mandy called after her, hoping for a chance to delay her.

“Not sure.” Tessie kept going, her head down now as she pressed onward this lovely fall morning, which served up all the wonderful scents of harvesttime.

Well, don’t that beat all?
Mandy had never known Tessie to be so standoffish, even though they hadn’t been close since her marriage to Sylvan. Mandy sighed—she had a peculiar feeling that something wasn’t altogether right between them. She headed back to the house to check on the three Dutch apple pies cooling on the counter. One pie for Sylvan, for their noontime dessert, and one to take over to
Mamm
for supper tonight. Her mother would see to it that Dawdi Dave got a nice big slice. The remaining pie was for dear Ella Mae, who’d helped Mandy through several trying seasons.

Mandy made a mental note to go to the cold cellar and bring up a jar of chow chow, one of Sylvan’s favorites. Meanwhile, she wandered out to the front porch and planted herself in one of the two chairs, relishing the wondrous aroma wafting through the screen door. It was still warm enough to sit outside without a shawl or jacket, unseasonably mild for late September. It was the ideal spot to just catch her breath and wait for the mail to arrive. She wasn’t really expecting anything, but it was always fun to receive another circle letter, especially those from upstate New York and Marion, Kentucky, where a number of her married second cousins were living, having one baby after another.
Like my own sisters are
 . . .

As of yet, Mandy hadn’t conceived a baby, and her anxiety increased monthly. She wondered if Mamm didn’t think something was the matter.

I’d hate to
disappoint Sylvan,
she thought, knowing he wanted a whole houseful of children, especially boys. In fact, Mandy
had overheard him talking to her father soon after their wedding about all the sons he wanted. Recalling that, she realized just how often her husband and her father sat and chewed the fat together, far more frequently than Sylvan seemed to talk with her. Even now, there were unresolved things between them—the way their marriage had come about, for one. And they never talked about their infertility, either, though Mandy sometimes saw the hope in Sylvan’s eyes when she cradled a little nephew or niece in her arms.

Leaning back on the porch chair, Mandy yawned and wished she hadn’t stayed up so late reading last night. Dat had always said there was more time for prayer and early devotions if you went to bed on time. But with most of her morning chores finished, she knew she could doze off for a few minutes.

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.