Last Bride, The (Home to Hickory Hollow Book #5) (21 page)

M
amma’s intentions were comically evident when she suggested Tessie get comfortable in the rocking chair on the far end of the kitchen, near the coal heater stove, almost the minute they arrived home. Dat announced they’d make themselves scarce, and Mamma skedaddled off to the front room while Dat hurried back outdoors—it sounded like he was out there helping Levi tie his horse to the hitching post. Tessie, feeling a little nervous, could hear them talking and taking their time coming in.

A bit later, Dat reappeared in the kitchen, having removed his shoes and coat. Then, without looking at her, he darted out of the way, joining Mamma out of earshot of the kitchen. Tessie shook her head, amused by this rushing about.

Presently, she heard the thuds of Levi’s boots coming off in the outer room, and then the pause for him to remove his coat and hang it, she supposed. Soon he emerged, his light brown hair ruffled up some—she guessed he’d taken a moment to run his long fingers through it.

“Hullo, Tessie Ann.” He moved quickly to her side and repositioned the vacant chair to face her before he sat down. “It’s
gut
to see you again.” He leaned forward, smiling at her, his hands folded between his knees.

“Hullo, Levi.”

“You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

How can he think that?

She felt her cheeks redden and quickly said, “From what you wrote, it sounds like ya had a nice time in Pinecraft.”

“I did, but you’ve been on my mind ever since I left. I couldn’t wait to get back here.” His eyes searched hers. “How’re ya doin’ . . . now?”

“I’m all right, I guess. How ’bout you?”

“Well, now that I’m here, wonderful-
gut
.” He leaned back in the chair and folded his arms, his smile ever so warm.

She was speechless. Hadn’t he heard about her upcoming confession and discipline? Or that the bishop was urging her to come clean?

“Listen, Tessie, I’d like to take you out for supper again. What do ya say?”

She reminded herself that he didn’t know yet that her pregnancy was high-risk. “My baby . . . may not be healthy, Levi. In fact, it’s likely that he or she will be born with a serious illness . . . or worse. And I—”

“A special child, then?”

“Jah, possibly.”

He looked away, staring at the window. He was quiet awhile before he returned his serious gaze to her. “I’d still like to treat you to supper, if that’s all right,” he said.

The small sphere of a world she’d purposely created these
past months, with dearest Marcus at the center, shifted with Levi’s persistence. This fine young man just kept surprising her.

“It’s nice of you to ask me, but I’m not sure.” She wished their visit wasn’t so very private. “I hope you understand.”

Not to be deterred, he mentioned that his father’s warm family carriage was available Friday night. “My parents have plans on Saturday . . . the traditional night for courting, ya know.” His face brightened hopefully. “I’d really like to get to know you better.”

“Honestly, it’ll serve you no purpose,” she replied, though she felt herself hesitate.

He frowned and studied her hands. “All right, then. Maybe all you need is a listening ear, Tessie . . . what ’bout that?”

This startled her and pointed away from the notion that her father had anything to do with Levi’s rush back home. Knowing that this visit was likely all Levi’s doing gave her some reassurance, despite her inner resistance. “Could I give you my answer later this week?” she said finally. “Would ya mind?”

He smiled and reached for her hand, giving it a brief squeeze. “I’ll look forward to that.”

“Denki.”

“Good-bye, Tessie Ann—take
gut
care,” Levi said, then left the kitchen to retrieve his coat and boots.

All this before she’d ever thought to offer him coffee and something sweet to eat.

Upon awakening early Monday morning, Tessie stretched her arms until they touched the headboard. She got out of
bed to kneel and ask God in prayer to help her through the consultation in Strasburg that morning, wanting to trust fully and not give any place to anxiety.

Her local doctor had informed her that the cost for the first meeting at the nonprofit clinic would be low compared to hospitals involved with insurance networks. Since she and her family did not have medical insurance—something prohibited by their church ordinance—she was grateful to have saved enough money for the first visit, and possibly another later on.
Thanks to my work at Mandy and Emmalyn’s little
shop.

Presently, Tessie made her way into the post-and-beam building that housed the clinic. Situated on a two-and-a-half-acre slope overlooking a snowy field, the property had been owned years ago by an Amish farmer whose granddaughters suffered from debilitating genetic disorders. Tessie’s primary doctor had shared with her that the clinic was raised in a single day by sixty Amish and Mennonite men working together, much like a barn raising. As she entered, Tessie noticed the quaint feel to the porch and the pretty springtime wreath decorating the door.

The receptionist was soft-spoken and cordial as she led Tessie Ann down the hallway to a consultation room. A large framed painting of a seated Amish family, their heads bowed before a meal, touched her. The familiar scene was depicted from a different perspective—from high above, as God must see them. “This was painted by one of the founders’ daughters,” the woman told her.

The considerate doctor breezed into the small room and sat behind a desk near her chair. “Why are we seeing you today, Tessie Ann?” he asked. His hair was peppered gray on the sides and he sported a short mustache and a close-cropped beard. The kindness in his eyes helped her to relax.

She told of her doctor’s referral, which he seemed aware of, and then referred to her father’s list of families of concern in her church district. “Turns out I married into one of those families without knowing,” she explained, saying she wanted to do everything she could to give her baby the benefit of the well-known clinic. “You’ve helped so many little ones in the Plain community.” Tessie’s breath caught in her throat, and she tried not to tear up.

“Is this your first pregnancy?” the doctor asked, and she replied that it was.

The astute doctor also inquired about the surnames in her family tree, as well as her husband’s, then asked the location of her church district. “Has your family lived in the same area of Hickory Hollow for two or three generations?”

“Oh, jah, and even farther back than that. My husband’s family, too—Marcus died in October of last year, unfortunately.”

The doctor offered his sympathy and asked how long they’d been married. “You’re so young to be a widow, Tessie.”

She nodded, saying they’d only had a few weeks together as a married couple. “Marcus fell from the rafters at a barn raising,” she said, her throat tight.

Again, the doctor’s expression was one of genuine kindness, and he shook his head with obvious regret. “Have you had any complications during your pregnancy, thus far?” he asked.

“None that I know of. Just some anemia, but I took some supplements for that.”

The meticulous doctor named a list of other, more worrisome symptoms, but she had not suffered with any of them.

Intrigued, Tessie Ann watched as, with her permission, he took a moment to rapidly type her answers into a nearby computer. Later, the good doctor clarified that over twelve percent of all Amish living in Lancaster County shared the surname King, which was certainly cause for concern for Tessie’s baby.

“We offer easy access and affordable therapeutic care that can effectively limit the possibility of suffering for your child,” the doctor said. He also urged her to have her newborn tested as soon as possible. “Ninety-five percent of the diseases we see present symptoms during infancy,” he explained. “But merely screening your baby won’t guarantee a successful outcome,” he added with a professional smile. “If we diagnose early, a follow-up plan will be absolutely essential in addressing any issues for your baby.”

She listened, trying to grasp everything.

“We can also mix special formula for babies who test positive for certain disorders, so do come with your newborn to the clinic for early screening.” He confirmed the name of her doctor and contact information.

“Do you know my chances of having a sick baby?” she said, asking the question that had plagued her for so long now.

“Given the circumstances, I would say you’re at medium to high risk.” He reiterated that bringing her baby in for screening and diagnosis was vital.

Feeling a bit overwhelmed but also thankful to know there
was help if she should need it, Tessie thanked the doctor, then returned to the waiting room to await her driver.

Mamma sat Tessie down in the kitchen and offered some freshly made peanut blossoms and hot cocoa, full of questions about the visit with the expert geneticist. Tessie was glad for the chance to rehearse what she’d learned, although it wasn’t exactly easy to put into simple terms the things the helpful doctor had explained.

Later, Mamma did a bit of fishing, no doubt trying to find out if Tessie had given any thought to Levi Smucker’s visit. “I daresay he likes ya, honey-girl—and quite a lot.”

“Seems so.” But that was all she had to say about it, given that she wanted to pray more before deciding to accept his supper invitation. And, too, she wished to walk over to the tranquil little Amish cemetery. It helped her to speak her thoughts into the air and pretend Marcus was still alive, especially now that she felt so close to him, with his baby growing and moving about more each and every day.

Mamma rose and got some mending, divided it up between them, and mentioned there was a small amount of ironing. It seemed Tessie wasn’t free to take her long walk until after supper that night, once the sun had already gone to bed. So she would wait till tomorrow, needing the sunshine.

Besides, there’s no need to hurry
my decision for Levi,
she told herself.
And if I
’m facing the shun . . . or a shaming, that’ll put
the kibosh on a relationship.

For sure and for
certain!