Last Bride, The (Home to Hickory Hollow Book #5) (16 page)

“My newfangled cake’s still in the oven.” Ella Mae bobbed her head toward it. “The reason the kitchen’s so cozy an’ warm.”

So she
anticipated a visitor today.
Tessie knew from other folk that this had happened before, and she had no idea how the Wise Woman managed such things. Each morning before Ella Mae’s feet hit the floor, she said she liked to pray a blessing for the folk who might cross the threshold of her little house. She sometimes went so far as to ask the Good Lord to send the most hurting soul to her door. Tessie wasn’t about to ask
if she might have been one of those souls this morning. Still, she was awful curious.

Tessie was finally warm enough to shed her scarf and open her coat. Then, glancing down at the swell of her middle, she thought better of it.

Ella Mae looked at her, bobbing her little head. “I know you’re in the family way. Guessed as much.”

Feeling suddenly much freer, Tessie took off her coat and went to hang it and the scarf on the wooden pegs near the back door.

“And . . . I’m hopin’ there’s more to the story here than anyone knows,” said Ella Mae.

Tessie nodded, then turned and offered to help put the teacups and saucers on the table.

Ella Mae cheerfully waved her away. “Go, sit an’ relax some. I ’spect you’re
mied—
weary, jah?”

“Not so much that as cold clear to the bone.”

“Does your Mamma know you’re here?”

Tessie shook her head. “I think she’ll be glad, though, once I get home and tell her.”

Smiling now, Ella Mae nodded.

Tessie took the seat across from Ella Mae’s usual spot. “Your table’s so perty.” She noticed the placemats—a lavish purple and blue quilted set of two. “Did ya make these?”

“Mattie did. Said she was tired of seein’ the same old yellow rose ones.”

Tessie remembered from some time ago. “They were nice, too.”

Ella Mae looked over at her. “You’re full of compliments today, dearie. Honestly, you can chust relax.”

She sighed, realizing she
was
a bit wound up.

“Just think on the dear Lord Jesus, won’t ya? He loves you so, Tessie . . . your wee babe, too.”

Tears sprang to her eyes, and she brushed them away. “I just needed to talk to someone.”

“I’m awful glad you picked me.” Ella Mae brought the teacups over, balancing them on their delicate saucers, then turned to get the blue teapot. “You’re gonna like this. It’ll warm ya clear down to your toes.”

Tessie really smiled then. She leaned back in the chair and watched Ella Mae. Despite being somewhat shaky, the elderly woman poured her favorite tea without spilling a drop.

“Now, about that cake, would ya like to try some, once it’s done?”

“Might have to wait awhile till it cools, jah?” Tessie wasn’t sure how long she ought to stay.

“Oh, that’s no problem. We have all day, ain’t?”

For some reason, Ella Mae’s response brought more tears, and this time when Tessie blinked, they rolled down her cheeks.
Ever so healing,
she thought, glad Ella Mae had turned to go back to the counter to get the sugar dish. By the time she’d returned and sat down, Tessie had wiped her face dry.

All of a sudden, she felt a strange flutter in her stomach, like a kernel of corn had just popped. “Oh,” she said softly, clutching her middle. “What’s that?”

“A quickening, maybe?” Ella Mae said, her face brightening. “’Tis a mighty
gut
sign of life. Is this the first time you’ve felt it?”

Tessie hardly knew what else to say. But she didn’t have to, because Ella Mae had bowed her head to pray and began
to quote a verse from the Psalms—“
Lo, children
are an heritage of the Lord.”

Tessie had heard that verse before, but it hadn’t ever held the meaning it did now. “Denki, Ella Mae,” she said after the dear woman said amen.

“Don’t thank me; thank the psalmist.”

“Well, you know what I mean.”

Ella Mae nodded, eyes serious now. “I certainly do . . . and let me tell you ’bout that.” She began to tell a story about her own life while a blanket of heavier clouds covered the sky. “My first little one was born terribly ill. Back then no one seemed to know just what was wrong with him.” She looked away, toward the light. “Our wee Joseph. I called him Joey.”

Ella Mae fingered the edge of the placemat near her spoon, her slight shoulders rising and falling as she drew a breath. Then she continued, more slowly now. Her frail son had lived only a few days on this earth. She had been nearly inconsolable at the funeral . . . the tiny custom-made coffin a grim reminder to the four hundred mourners of just how short little Joseph Zook’s life had been. “Oh, I dearly loved that wee babe,” she told Tessie. “Loved him and nurtured him as best I could, given his size . . . and his near constant pain.” She paused. “We were ever so sad when he passed, and I craved aloneness for months on end. I felt like I was crippled, missing him so.”

Tessie’s heart broke for Ella Mae. “I’ve never heard about this.”

“’Twas before your mother was born.” Ella Mae sighed. “In time, though, my husband and I opened our hearts and trusted the dear Lord for the health of our future children, and by faith, we went on to have more.”

Tessie could not imagine suffering what Ella Mae had—losing her first baby! And what courage in being able to grasp the divine hope. Hearing the story touched her, and she felt heartened. “I pray over my baby often,” she confided. “It’s possible he or she will be born impaired.”

“Prayer is the best thing, dearie. The most important of all.” Ella Mae kissed her cheek before Tessie put on her coat and said good-bye. She opened the back door to head out with one last look at the Wise Woman. Lo and behold, a small dove flew in right past her, bumped the windowed doorway with a muffled thud, then fell to the floor.

Tessie closed the door quickly, and both she and Ella Mae rushed to the bird and hovered near it. “Looks like the poor thing is stunned,” Tessie said, watching the dove lie there, then begin to twitch a bit, trying to stand before teetering over and collapsing again.

“I know just what to do,” said Ella Mae. She made her way over to the nearby pantry and poured the contents of a box of cornflakes into a canister she brought down from the cupboard. Quickly, she began to tear and bend, forming a bed out of the cardboard box. Muttering a little, she placed a soft towel on the bottom and returned to Tessie and to the dove. “Here we are, little birdie.” Gently, she picked it up in her fragile fingers and laid its body in the box, moving it closer to the heater stove.

Just then, the bird tried again to flap its wings, but it fell back, too weak.

“See there? Its wings still work fine.” Ella Mae leaned near, watching the dove with gentle eyes. “You’ll be all right in time,” she whispered. “You will.”

Tessie watched Ella Mae and the delicate bird with great wonder—it was hard to pull herself away from the scene. Still, Mamma would start to worry, and the snow was coming harder again.

Ella Mae’s eyes glistened as she said good-bye again. “Hope is the silver cord that connects us to heaven,” she said. “Never forget.”

“Gott be with ya, Ella Mae.”

“You, too, dearie.”

All the way home, Tessie cherished her visit to the warm little Dawdi Haus with the sweetest woman.

A safe
haven for the wounded.

I
think I might need something to help me sleep,” Mamma told Mandy as they sat together that afternoon in Mandy’s gloomy kitchen. They had been watching the snow pile up on the sidewalk to the back of the house for some time now.

Mandy was tempted to go out and sweep things off before it got too deep, but Mamma was out of sorts. “Have ya tried warm milk and some sugar cookies before bedtime? That relaxes Sylvan when he’s all wound up.”

“Jah, that, and chamomile tea, too.”

“Bananas also help,” Mandy added.

Mamma fiddled with her teacup.

“Tessie’s confession is no doubt weighing on ya,” Mandy said.

Mamma laughed softly, but it ended sounding more like a sob. “That’s certain.”

“Sorry, Mamma, I—”

“Ain’t your fault, daughter.” Mamma looked at her over her cup. “Really, it’s not.”

“Well, I do have some mild sleeping pills if you want to try one.”

“Or two?”

“I’d better check the expiration date, though.”

Mandy rose and went to the medicine cabinet in the small bathroom off the sitting room, close enough to hear her mother praying or muttering something at the table. Quickly, she found the small bottle. “Here, take what’s left of it,” she said, returning to the kitchen.

“Don’t ya need them?” Mamma rotated the bottle in her hand, frowning at the label.

“Not anymore.”

Mamma set the bottle down in front of her. “It must have been awful for Tessie to have kept her secret all tucked away like that. Not sure how she managed to keep it from all of us for this long.”

Mandy had heard of other young women who didn’t show till the fifth or sixth month, depending on the position of the baby.
Especially
with a first pregnancy . . .
Getting up, she went to open the fridge, needing to think of something besides Tessie’s baby. She poked her head inside, hoping to find some leftovers she might warm up for supper. She just wasn’t up to cooking tonight.

“Tessie left the house earlier.” Mamma’s voice was flat. “Never said where she was goin’.”

“Well, I saw her heading up the way. Might have been off to Ella Mae’s.”

“What was she thinkin’, steppin’ out in this weather?”

“She has to be dyin’ inside, Mamma. She’s lost her first-ever love, and now there’s all this talk of shaming and excommunication.”

“Ain’t like it’ll last forever, like
die
Meinding
.”

“Thank the dear Lord for that.” Mandy meant it. They’d had enough of shunning with Katie Lapp all those years ago.

Tessie wandered downstairs Sunday morning, still in a daze. She’d washed and dressed earlier, and presently, she overheard her parents talking in the kitchen. Hanging back, she wasn’t sure what to do.

“You seem anxious, dear,” Dat was saying.

“Might be the pills I got from Mandy.”

“Those are for sleepin’, though. I doubt they cause anxiety.”

Mamma went silent just then.

“We’ll get through this, May, with plenty-a wisdom from above.”

“Jah,” Mamma finally agreed. Then she asked, “Any idea how long Tessie’s temporary excommunication might last?”

“It’s all up in the air, is what I heard. Could be as short as two weeks, depending on what happens when she confesses today.”

Two weeks?
Tessie leaned on the banister, waiting for more conversation, but none came. She breathed a sigh of relief at her father’s answer, more hopeful now, and was aware of the sound of the wide drawer beneath the oven opening. She pictured Mamma setting the black griddle on the range.

Tessie tiptoed back up a few stairs and then came back
down, hoping to make enough noise to alert her parents, sorry for eavesdropping.

Mandy couldn’t stop fidgeting at the table that morning as she observed Sylvan while he ate his toast and hot oatmeal sprinkled with brown sugar and slivered almonds.

“I’m worried ’bout Tessie . . . what will become of her.” She paused, wanting to tell her husband about her sister’s pregnancy before church, since he’d hear it there soon enough. “She’s expecting Marcus King’s baby.”

“Goodness, really?” Sylvan frowned and had a sudden air of impatience about him, as if uncomfortable. He looked out the window, clearly pondering this revelation. “She’ll want to marry, and soon.” He peered at Mandy. “Don’t you agree?”

She thought of Levi Smucker, who’d left Thursday for Florida. In a way, it was probably good he was to be gone for a while, considering Tessie’s difficult confession today. Hopefully the precise details of what Tessie might say wouldn’t find their way to Levi’s ears too quick. Mandy still had some faith in the People’s ability to nix the desire to gossip.
Well, I can hope, at least.
“Tessie’s a sweet girl. Perty too,” she said softly.

“Honestly, though, I doubt many men will look her way . . . now.”

“You’re probably right.” Mandy knew that Tessie would still be desirable to the other young men in Hickory Hollow and surrounding areas had she and Marcus just waited till they’d married to consummate their love. “I don’t know what to think ’bout my sister’s situation, really,” Mandy admitted. “It’s
shocking, to say the least.” She rose to make another piece of toast for Sylvan. She should have made two to start with.

“I never would’ve guessed.”

“And me neither.” Mandy sighed. “Maybe she’ll develop a bit of backbone through all this.” Oh, she prayed so. It was awful hard watching her sister flounder without Marcus. It would be even harder watching Tessie kneel up there before all the People in only a few more hours, hearing her say what she and Marcus had done together . . . unmarried and all. Goodness, but it was too late for Mandy to feign sickness now. She’d just have to go and keep her head bowed, like Tessie would do up there before the congregation.

I’ll
hold my breath till it’s all over
. . . .

Tessie Ann was all in knots in the back of the family carriage as she rode to church with her parents and Dawdi Dave, who had felt strong enough to attend Preaching service today, too.
Of all days.
He sat behind Tessie’s parents with his blue-plaid muffler wrapped around his thin neck. Oh, Tessie could scarcely abide the thought of her precious grandfather hearing the things she was required to say to the bishop and to the membership this day!

If it hadn’t been so terribly cold, the morning might have been a right pretty one, considering how very blue the sky was . . . the sun bright on her face as she peered out the back of her father’s old buggy.

If I can just get through
this,
she thought as she saw various families come out of their lanes, the horses waiting patiently for
their turn onto Hickory Lane. David and Mattie Beiler waved and smiled as Tessie’s parents passed them, and she wondered how this upstanding couple would view her confession. David Beiler was the bishop’s elder brother and highly regarded in the community.
As are Marcus’s parents,
she thought, cringing at their likely reaction to her words following the three-hour service. Could she even sit that long, dreading what was ahead?

She was relieved on some level, knowing Levi Smucker was already gone. What a real blessing that was, at least for now.

It still seemed very odd just how well Tessie and Levi had clicked on their first and only date—getting along like close friends. They’d so lost track of time, they’d nearly closed down the restaurant. Tessie still could hardly believe he wanted to write to her.

If he only knew . . .

None of that was important, though, with her impending discipline to be meted out today.
Lord, please give me the grace to bear what
’s coming,
she prayed, pleading for courage.