Free Last Bride, The (Home to Hickory Hollow Book #5) by Beverly Lewis

love him,” she said softly, then considered the crowd of men surrounding Marcus as he lay dead on the ground. All of them knew she loved him now, too.
    If she felt up to going, she wanted to run over to the rental house later tonight and look for Marcus’s journal, once her parents were asleep. What a treasure that would be! After that, she must pack up her beloved memories and store them in her mind and heart, sealing them away for the rest of her life. Especially now, given the alarming information she possessed, something her husband would never come to know this side of heaven. It would take everything she had to do this, but she must. How else could she survive, knowing what she did?
    No one needed to know what she and Marcus had truly been to each other. Not even Mandy. The secret of their brief marriage could simply go to his grave.
    First thing tomorrow, Tessie would start sewing her black dress for the funeral. Even though she would not reveal that she was, in fact, his widow, the dark color would stand for something.

    Mandy considered Sylvan’s earlier remark as she raked the side yard, waiting for supper to bake. Couldn’t she have some say about what she did during her daylight hours? How frustrated she felt just now, with all the many emotions scrambling inside of her. I should have tried harder to talk to him about it.
    Refusing to be put out at Sylvan, she used her energy to gather up the scattered gold, red, and orange leaves that were falling even now, showering her head and shoulders. Thelinden leaves had turned a soft yellow, and the oaks an inviting bronze, yet as much as she loved the changing palette of color, Mandy also relished how warm the air still felt—warm enough to keep the windows in the house wide open.
    All the happy autumn days, raking and piling up leaves with my sisters . At times like this, she missed her siblings terribly, missed being absorbed in their shared work and play. And, oh, the pleasant chatter.
    She saw two school-age girls out on the road, riding their bikes like scooters, pushing with their right foot as she and her sisters always had. As required by the bishop, there were no pedals, so they couldn’t go too fast.
    Thinking again of Sylvan, Mandy realized that he was her family now. He was a good and decent man, after all, and Mamm had once suggested that, if respect came first, sometimes love would flower in time. But without children, where does that leave us? She sighed, knowing full well that a marriage without Kinner was a blight on any Amish home.
    She finished her raking chore and headed for the house, making her way into the back door. Supper would be later than usual because of the barn raising and Marcus King’s horrific accident. Ach, poor Tessie Ann. Her heart ached yet again.
    She personally could not imagine losing a beloved to death—it pained her to ponder such a thing. Although she’d felt something similar to that when her first beau left Hickory Hollow so unexpectedly.
    Glancing outside, she saw her father and Bishop John Beiler pulling into the lane. Dat hopped out and went calling to Sylvan, hurrying toward him near the barn while the bishop tied the horse to the hitching post.
    Men talk, she thought, hoping that her father didn’t know about the shop . . . or that she’d kept it from Sylvan. Mandy felt embarrassed. What would things be like once supper was over and Sylvan was ready to voice his full displeasure? Despite their rocky start, Mandy hoped against hope that Sylvan might be okay with her plans even now.
    A strong breeze rustled the leaves outside below the window, which slammed shut. Mandy startled and pressed her hand to her heart, willing it to slow.

    Tessie stepped away from helping Mamma make supper to answer the knock at the back porch door. There stood Marcus’s golden-haired fourteen-year-old nephew, Enos, evidently one of the several young men— leicht- ah-sager— going house to house to invite the relatives and