“I’m not lyin’ to ya, Mamma.”
Her mother’s face was as pale as pasta. “Bishop wants you to seek God ’bout confessing all your deceitfulness and your rebellion . . . along with everything else that must’ve transpired. Ya need to do so next Preaching service.”
“What I had to confess, I confessed to Dat already. And the Lord God before that. I’ve told the membership all I can.” Tessie felt a prick of guilt at Mamma’s obvious consternation. If only she dared to tell her mother what she’d told Dat!
Tessie noticed the book she had been reading last night still out on the table in the sitting room and went to pick it up. She could still feel Mamma’s eyes on her as she rushed up the stairs with it, feeling like she was being chased.
Chapter 28
Tessie Ann made sure the bishop was gone before she crept out the back door, looking all about and spotting her father out hitching the horse to the family carriage.
She made her way toward the road, remembering the little stream that ran along their lane, hidden now beneath melting snow, and the lovely way it ran gently over the small rocks. It made her yearn for summer . . . and the coming birth of her babe. Sometimes she felt sure the child she was carrying was a boy—she hoped this for the sake of Marcus’s memory. Other days, she didn’t mind either way. What she desired most of all was a miracle for her child’s health, if that was God’s will. And if not, the willingness to embrace whatever the Lord allowed with a caring and patient heart.
Just then, she saw her sister Mandy along the roadside, coming this way, and if Tessie wasn’t mistaken, it looked like she was crying. Tessie held her breath.
What’s the matter?
She hurried toward her sister. “You all right?” she asked. “Ach . . . I can see you’re not.”
“Don’t tell anyone you found me cryin’,” Mandy pleaded.
“What’s wrong, sister?”
“I just weep sometimes privately, that’s all . . . so Sylvan won’t see.”
Tessie considered that. “Maybe he should know, so he can comfort ya.” She was momentarily uncertain what to say, then, “Can I help with anything?”
“Just walk with me a ways, all right?”
Tessie was glad to and told her so. But Mandy was quiet as they slowed to a shuffle, the way Dawdi Dave did on days his rheumatism acted up. And Tessie didn’t think she’d be wise to continue prying. Knowing Mandy, if she didn’t want to talk about something, she simply wouldn’t.
Some time later, their father came rattling up Hickory Lane with the horse and carriage, and Mandy looked away, even though Dat gave a quick wave. “He’s in an awful hurry,” Tessie remarked, hoping that might loosen Mandy’s tongue.
“Jah . . . just seems to be the way he is.”
Tessie felt the weight behind Mandy’s comment and would not touch it. She could not bring herself to open up layers of past hurt. “Daylight’s lasting longer, have ya noticed? Little by little.”
“Sylvan pointed that out to me just yesterday.”
“Feels gut, really.” The receding sunlight caught the blue of Mandy’s eyes, but Tessie didn’t stare. She looked instead at their neighbors’ pretty barn, newly painted white last fall and blending with the remaining snow. “I wonder how many more snowstorms we’ll get before spring arrives.”
Mandy laughed softly. “Honestly, I’m ready for the thaw.”
“And all the upcoming auctions and farm sales, no doubt.”
“Heard Paul Hostetler’s two uncles are havin’ a big one in a few weeks. Are ya goin’?”
“Don’t know.” Tessie shrugged. “Are you?”
“Sylvan thinks we should—says it’d be gut for me to get out more.”
Smiling, Tessie agreed with that. Looking at Mandy, she thought of Dawdi Dave’s revelation and wondered who their tiny unborn sisters might have resembled had they lived. She felt besieged with sudden sadness, not feeling close enough anymore to Mandy to divulge such a family secret. But she wouldn’t have, anyway, having given her word to Dawdi.
“Some days I think I’d like to trade places with you, sister.” Mandy glanced at her.
“Why on earth?”
“To be expecting a baby. Not, well, other things . . .”
The exchange was plain awkward. And for the life of her, Tessie had no idea how to smooth it over, if that was even possible. She simply said, “I hope and pray you’ll be with child real soon, Mandy.”
“If only wishing made it so” came the downhearted reply. Mandy sighed, then brushed a gloved hand across her eyes. “Will Mattie Beiler deliver your baby?”
“Haven’t talked to her, not just yet.” Tessie was shivering with cold but didn’t want to complain, lest her sister think she was anxious to end their conversation. She hadn’t bundled up very well, thinking she was just making a quick run out to the mailbox.
“Maybe you should speak with her, don’t ya think? To make sure things go all right.”
“Well, things just might not go well at all, according to Dat,” Tessie blurted out, feeling the old surge of anger.
“Ach, what do ya mean?” Mandy looked aghast as she stopped on the road. “What’s Dat sayin’?”
“Well, that my baby could be born with an awful bad disease—a rare genetic disorder, maybe.” She paused, thinking now might be a good time to reveal what she knew about the charts, for Mandy’s sake, too. “Not to worry ya, but that’s the reason he didn’t want me marryin’ Marcus.”
“Oh, Tessie Ann . . .”
“And,” she continued, “the reason why Dat was so opposed to Norman Byler . . . for you.”
Mandy’s eyes widened. “How do ya know?”
Tessie quietly told her about the secret family listings. “Guess Dat didn’t want to just tell us about them, since the bishop’s against such things.”
“Ach, I wish I’d known back then,” Mandy said ever so softly. “Would’ve helped a lot.”
“Sorry if this upsets ya.”
Mandy shook her head. “Was awful hard then . . . not understanding what happened. My beau just up and left, ya know.”
“I remember. It was a difficult time for ya.”
“Norm never breathed a word ’bout why.”
Tessie wasn’t sure even Norm had known then. She almost wished she hadn’t brought it up, yet it wasn’t fair for Mandy to be kept in the dark. Not then and not now.
At that moment, she made the mistake of looking back at Mandy’s farmhouse, their childhood home. She stared up at the window that had been her and Mandy’s bedroom all those happy years. The old, familiar disappointment hit her hard. She shook her head. “I really miss our close days together,” she said softly. “Honest, I do.”
Mandy nodded and smiled wistfully. “Jah . . .”
“Remember when we played dolls for hours and dressed them in matching clothes?”
“Even the little sleepers Mamma made for them with leftover fabric,” Mandy said. “Aw . . . so soft.”
“Always white or yellow, never pink or blue,” Tessie recalled.
“Guess we didn’t care if they were boys or girls, jah?”
Tessie pondered that, having forgotten. “I can’t wait till you and Sylvan have a little one to cuddle together.”
“Denki, sister.”
“With all my heart, I mean that.” Tessie held out her hand. “And I’ll be very happy when ya tell me it’s true.”
They walked quietly, hand in hand, Tessie almost forgetting the chill weather. And she couldn’t help wondering if her sister would willingly give up the old homestead if only she, too, were expecting her first child.
Mandy was relieved to have a little time left to scrub her face good before Sylvan came in for supper. When she was satisfied he couldn’t possibly know she had been crying, she went to check on their oven meal of hearty chunks of tender beef, potatoes, sliced carrots, and onions. She was glad to have gone walking, even out in the cold, after staying indoors all day, except to feed the chickens, wh
ich Sylvan insisted on keeping, even though they seemed to be more bother than they were worth.
The way she and Tessie had talked so openly just now had soothed her. These past many months, she’d sometimes felt an undercurrent of tension between them. She felt awful about Tessie’s worry over her coming child. What could their father know about the possibility of such dire diseases?
She set the table and recalled Tessie’s dear hope that Mandy would become pregnant soon. And that, too, gave her comfort.
Surprised at her and Mandy’s renewed closeness, Tessie headed back toward the house, walking carefully along the road, still shivering. Would she always feel this cold? She remembered what Levi had written about enjoying the balmy weather down south, and for a moment wished she were there. Anywhere but here, she thought, yet the idea of going anyplace in her condition was unlikely.
She fondly replayed her walk with Mandy and soon realized she’d forgotten to get the mail. She hurried back to discover the mailbox was quite empty. “Mamma must’ve come out here,” she mumbled, feeling terrible her mother had risked this weather.
Hurrying inside, she found Mamma sitting at the kitchen table with a letter. “When you didn’t return right away, I thought you’d disappeared . . . like the other day.”
When I went to see Ella Mae, Tessie thought.
Mamma pointed to the letter on the table. “By the way, this came for ya.”
It was another letter from Levi Smucker, and when Tessie looked at her mother, she was surprised to see Mamma’s eyes were moist.
“Could be right promising, really,” Mamma said softly, though she did not smile.
“Mamma . . . Levi Smucker will never be anything more than a friend,” Tessie let it be known. He feels sorry for me, that’s all.
“Well, a gut friend’s all it takes sometimes, dear,” Mamma said before returning to reading her own mail.
Tessie considered the fact that he’d written three letters since leaving for Florida yet had received only one reply from her. What motivated him to keep writing now, knowing of her predicament?
The notion that he might feel sorry for her made her bristle. No, she did not want sympathy from Levi or anyone.
Chapter 29
Long after supper, Tessie slipped away to her room with the letter. She found herself deeply touched, even tearing up, as she read.
I’m cutting my visit short, Tessie Ann . . . lining up some local help here for my grandmother’s care. If I can get in touch with a driver, I plan to return to Hickory Hollow right away, instead of waiting for the next bus. In fact, by the time you receive this letter, I might even be home, Lord willing.
And if it’s all right, I’d like to see you as soon as possible. Maybe even Sunday afternoon, since it’s an off-Sunday from Preaching there.
Your friend always,
Levi Smucker
Tessie let her tears come. For sure and for certain, she hadn’t expected this. Not at all. To think Levi still wanted to see her. This was the kindest gesture. Ever so dear, really.
Oh, but she felt terribly out of sorts. What was wrong with her emotions? Levi’s latest letter was complicating everything, wasn’t it? Tessie really did not deserve his attention, but her heart was soft to this young man in good standing in the Hickory Hollow church. Softer than she’d ever intended.
Sleep escaped Tessie—the worst night since Marcus’s funeral—and she paced back and forth in her room. In her weariness, it struck her that just maybe Dat was somehow behind Levi’s letters and his hasty return from Florida. But would her father be able to interfere like that, considering?
She stifled a laugh, not wanting to awaken her parents this late. Certainly, her father would go to great lengths to get his way. Hadn’t he always wanted to get Levi Smucker in the family? The thought took all of the joy she’d felt while reading the recent letter.
Yet could even her father still hold such sway over Levi, when Levi knew she was carrying another man’s baby? The idea bewildered her. No wonder she wasn’t able to relax. Well, Tessie decided, if that were the case, then she’d rather not be anywhere near this house tomorrow afternoon, when the People went visiting—and when Levi wanted to come see her. If it meant wrapping up but good and shivering her way over to see Ella Mae, she’d do well to be gone. She couldn’t expect him or any man to take on the responsibility for such a financial burden, if her baby was born with serious problems.
Levi has no idea what he’s pursuing, really. Surely he’s better off without me.
———
When Tessie fell asleep at last, it was fitful. Several times in the night, she awakened with a jolt and sat up in bed, disoriented, trying to familiarize herself with her whereabouts, even thinking once that she was back in Marcus’s house, sharing his bed. But when she looked, the room was terribly, dreadfully vacant.
Shaking herself, Tessie rose and walked downstairs to pour some milk into a glass, then wandered to the back door and looked out. She began to pray, Lord, Thy will be done in all of our lives. And, if it is possible, please let Marcus know I’m doing the best I can to take care of our baby . . . and to preserve his love for me.
She paused, again recalling her mother’s miscarriages. Somehow, Mamma had bravely gone on to birth another healthy child.
“That child was me,” Tessie whispered, also remembering Ella Mae’s courage to have more children, not knowing if they would be vigorous or struggle like her tiny baby Joseph, buried in the hard, frosty ground in the same cemetery as Marcus.
“I give my little one to Thee, O Lord,” she said softly, eyes fixed on the sky. “I will trust and not be afraid.”
Finishing the milk, Tessie set the rinsed glass in the sink and returned upstairs to bed without praying for Levi Smucker, come to think of it. He says he’s coming home early. For me?
Ever so tired now, she pushed all of that aside for another day, unable to think clearly.
Why am I in such a bad mood? Mandy walked the hallway upstairs, struggling with insomnia that Saturday night. She was so sleep deprived, she’d even considered putting on her coat and boots to walk the short distance to her parents’ house, hoping to slip indoors to locate the bottle of sleeping pills she’d given to Mamma.
She glanced at the door to her and Sylvan’s bedroom and realized she’d left it ajar. She’d never known her husband to not sleep peacefully all night. He fell asleep directly and did not awaken till around four-thirty, when he pulled on his clothes and hurried outdoors to meet Mandy’s father and a few other men, all of them working hard till they could fall exhausted into bed at eight-thirty or so at night. Day after day, week after week, the People lived according to the seasons and their animals’ care. Our predictable life.
Mandy pictured herself walking the floors with a restless infant and had the good idea to put a small daybed in the empty bedroom nearest her and Sylvan’s room. The perfect nursery. At first, of course, she would have their newborn in their room with them, in a handmade cradle her mother-in-law had said they could have “whenever you say the word,” giving Mandy a gentle smile. Everyone was like that—encouraging and hopeful, though she was beginning to be weary of too much encouragement.
Poking her head into the unfurnished nursery, Mandy went to stand in the middle of the vacant room and bowed her head, folding her hands. In that moment, she felt God was calling her to pray about her poor attitude toward Sylvan. It seemed odd, really, to consider such a thing when she never had before. She had not heard a voice from heaven, but in her spirit, a still, small voice was urging her, and Mandy did not doubt whatsoever that she ought to answer. O Lord, make my heart anew and soften it for my husband’s sake, according to Thy will.
She didn’t expect to feel differently, but when she returned to bed, she yawned and was aware of the scratchiness behind her eyes. Mandy was more relaxed as she pulled up the covers and settled onto the pillow. Sighing deeply, she fell swiftly to sleep.
An hour or more before dawn on the Lord’s D
ay, Tessie Ann lay quietly in bed, contemplating next week’s Preaching service. She pressed her hand against the pillow and drank in the peace of the house—the familiar silence of it. Next Sunday at this hour, she would be getting up and preparing to go to the house church gathering, brushing her hair and putting it into a slick, neat bun.
She rolled over and sighed. Could she even attend that service without being considered as defiant by her parents and the People? Yet not going might seem still worse. . . .
Oh, to take a long walk today, despite the cold, she thought. Here lately, walking seemed to calm her. Reading did, too. She was nearing the completion of her book, captivated by the young woman’s ability to throw herself on the mercy of God and marry a man she scarcely knew. Such a hopeful story. One of bravery, too.
Tessie Ann sat up in bed and realized she had not had a single grief-filled dream last night. For all these months, her nighttime dreams had often lingered into the morning, but not today. She breathed a sigh of thankfulness for that as she reached for her Bible and the small flashlight on the little table next to the bed. Until she heard her mother up and padding down the stairs, she had time to read from several psalms. In many ways, the lack of a scheduled church gathering on this particular Lord’s Day was a relief and a blessing of sorts.
Later, once she was dressed, Tessie fidgeted in her seat at the breakfast table, next to Mamma, glancing at her father now and then. She’d helped make a hot breakfast rather than the typical cold cereal and fruit they were used to having on a Preaching Sunday. There sat the three of them, enjoying the delicious German sausage, pancakes, and baked oatmeal.
Tessie Ann wondered if it was a good idea to bring up her question while they were eating. She took a few more bites of pancake, then forged ahead. “Dat?” she said, trying to sound as polite as she ought to be. “Would ya happen to know anything ’bout Levi Smucker’s return from Florida?”
Last Bride, The (Home to Hickory Hollow Book #5) Page 17
