Last Bride, The (Home to Hickory Hollow Book #5) (15 page)

T
uesday morning, both Tessie and Mandy showed up at the shop in Bird-in-Hand, a half hour apart. Emmalyn greeted them with a big smile, eyes laughing, and Tessie sensed that their cousin was about to remark on their both being there by mistake.

But Mandy acted strange . . . even somewhat standoffish. Or perhaps she just had her mind on something else. It had been a while since she’d taken a day to work at the shop.

The three young women worked side by side to straighten the piles of homespun offerings—counting the frilly and not-so-frilly doilies, refolding some of the quilted aprons, and spacing out the potholders on the line above them, saying not a word.

As the hour progressed, Tessie felt certain Mandy was miffed for some reason. Everyone knew practically everything about anyone in the hollow, so what had Tessie missed? Was she hurt by Tessie’s accusation last week?

When customers were few and far between, Mandy suddenly announced, “I got my wires crossed somehow. I need to get home and start cooking the noon meal for Sylvan.” She cast a look at Tessie.

“Oh . . . well, goodness, were ya expecting me over there today?” Tessie asked, suddenly uncertain.

“Like I said, I’m just ferhoodled.” Mandy went to get her black coat and gray scarf. “Maybe I’ll see ya tomorrow, Cousin Emmalyn.” And out the door she went.

“Wonder what’s got her so mixed up?” Cousin Emmalyn said, going to the door and peering out into the sunshine, her hands clasped behind her back. The light was nearly blinding against the heavy snow; a good five inches or more had fallen in the night.

Tessie went to sit on the chair in the corner. She sighed, gazing about her at the lovely shop. “My sister’s upset, is all.” She said nothing for a moment, and then surprised herself by adding, “I’m expecting a baby, cousin.”

Emmalyn’s plump face changed just then; her eyes seemed smaller and less bright. “I didn’t know,” she said, coming this way, all serious. “And after Marcus . . . well, this has to be the hardest thing you’ve ever experienced.”

Tessie nodded.

“Oh, honey-girl . . . I care deeply for ya. And for your baby, too.”

“Denki, Emmalyn.”

“You all right?” Emmalyn crouched down next to her, putting folded hands on Tessie’s knee. “This doesn’t change anything by me. Not one iota.”

Tessie struggled not to cry.

“You’re gonna need a caring heart round here.” Emmalyn looked up at her. “Ain’t so?”

“You can’t know how much this means to me.” Tessie ducked her head near Emmalyn’s. “I’m glad you felt you could say this . . . considering.”

“Well, and let’s not judge Mandy, either,” Emmalyn said softly. “Just as I don’t judge you.” Emmalyn made a few more kind remarks about Mandy, and Tessie took it all in. This was the type of girl to have in her corner.

The ebb and flow of Tessie’s sisterly relationship with Mandy remained unpredictable. Tessie couldn’t have guessed Mandy would react the way she had. Now she wondered if she shouldn’t have told her sister straight out, instead of making her figure it out for herself.

“Jah, no sense judging,” Tessie finally said. “No one knows anyone, really, till they’ve walked in their shoes.”
Or
bare feet . . .

She sighed, thinking of her own penchant for having her way. “We all have our cross to bear.”

The last thing Tessie would do was feel sorry for herself as she approached the stable before supper. She was terribly nervous—oh, was she ever. But Mamma was right: It shouldn’t fall on anyone’s shoulders but Tessie’s to reveal this news to Dat.

She found him in the small, dank room just to the left of the barn door. How many times had she made this short trek between the house and the barn to ask her father to forgive her? How many times had she failed him due to her own
determined will? She could see his many lists posted on bulletin boards—rainfall charts, hay yields, breeding records, and scheduled vet appointments. She still wondered why he hadn’t kept his office over at the original farm, where Sylvan had all the steers, but there was no need to ponder that just now.

His back to her as she crept in, Dat reached for the clear dish filled with paper clips. “Dat, I need to talk to you,” she said softly.

Her father turned and waved her over to sit on a stool in the corner, near a tall file cabinet. “Rarely do I see ya out here, Tessie Ann—well, lately, anyhow. What’s on your mind?”

She drew a breath, wishing she were still back at the little shop in Bird-in-Hand. Anywhere but here. “I’m going to have a baby, Dat . . . come July.”

His jaw tightened and he turned away for a moment. He shook his head before returning his gaze. “Marcus King’s?”

Tessie couldn’t bear the disappointment etched on his suntanned face. “It’s not what ya think. Honestly.”

“Well, Tessie, what else
can
I think?”

She had to tell him, even though she was afraid this, too, would make things worse, if that were possible. “Marcus and I were married, Dat.”

The stain of red on his neck rose to his face. “Do not compound your sin with a lie, daughter!”

She bowed her head—without proof, it was pointless to argue the fact. In that terrible moment, Tessie realized that others would react in much the same way, and she shuddered, longing to return to the house. Alas, she felt like a scolded little girl again, recalling the many times she’d brought pain to her father’s heart.

But this was different. Wasn’t it? She’d followed what she and Marcus had believed . . . had hoped was God’s will for them.

“Don’t be goin’ round sayin’ such ridiculous things, daughter . . . hear me? I want you to hush up ’bout whatever you’re babblin’.” He rose now and glared at her. “Understood?”

Finally Dat dismissed her. Feeling bewildered and shaken as she crossed the wide backyard to the house, Tessie sadly resolved to remain silent about her marriage to Marcus.
Unless
I can find the marriage license.
But with all his things gone from the rental house, where to look?

Tessie’s father was quiet, if not sullen, at suppertime. His prickliness had not softened in the least—there would be no table games of checkers or Dutch Blitz tonight. Dat’s silence reminded her of Marcus’s way of handling tension. He hadn’t always been like that, not as a boy, but then, most young men never faced his and Tessie’s kinds of struggles. What couple had they ever known who was forbidden to marry?

Recalling Dat’s legitimate grounds for putting his foot down, though, she guessed his silence also had to do with concern and distress. Would his newest grandchild live for a few weeks or months, only to die? Surely that’s why he would not even raise his head to look at Tessie during the meal. Along with his displeasure, he must be worried sick.

If that wasn’t enough for Tessie, the next few days were filled with one suspicious thing after another—the sudden absence of any of her sisters dropping by, for one thing. Not even
Dawdi Dave made an appearance from next door, so unlike him—especially around dessert time. She had not expected this palpable hush in the house. Even Mamma seemed far busier and more preoccupied than usual.

So, considering all this, when Saturday arrived, Tessie went upstairs and pulled on various underlayers, then hurried down to the outer room to don her tallest boots. She was thankful for a measure of sunshine as she took to the snow-packed road. It would be a lengthy trek in the cold, but she
had
to know the truth. Would Ella Mae Zook ignore her, too?

Poor girl.

Mandy watched through her front room window as Tessie leaned into the wind, out there in the dreary weather. Feeling altogether sick at heart, Mandy rested her fingers against her lips. She knew from Mamm that her sister had at last talked to Bishop Beiler. Mamm and Dat, too. Yet now the reality of what lay ahead for them all loomed life-size in her mind. “What will this do to our family?” she whispered, inching closer to the window, stalking Tessie with her eyes. “She must be goin’ to see the Wise Woman, as well she ought.” Time spent with Ella Mae Zook would be a balm, Mandy knew. If only every older woman could be as reassuring.

Presently, Mandy returned to baking bread in the kitchen, where she’d first spotted her sister walking on the snowy road. Oh, it was next to impossible to shake off the thought of her youngest sister having to kneel to confess such a sin before the congregation.

Sitting now at the table, Mandy pressed her hand to her chest. She wondered if she might not be too ill to attend church tomorrow, just maybe.

Winded and her cheeks numb from the cold, Tessie stood next to Ella Mae’s old-fashioned cookstove and shivered for more than a few minutes, trying to get warm. She wondered if her being so cold could harm the baby.

“Thought you might’ve given up on comin’,” Ella Mae said with a playful look.

“It
has
been a while since you mentioned it.” Tessie rubbed her icy hands together.

“Clear back in November.” Ella Mae glanced at her, then back at the pretty blue teapot, its lid off and fresh peppermint tea steeping. “But I knew you’d come when you were ready. Prayed so . . .”

“What smells so
gut
, besides the tea?” Tessie breathed in the welcoming aroma.