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

Sylvan had taken turns with her parents and his, going every other Christmas, as most couples did.
    When Sylvan pulled into the tree-lined drive, four enclosed gray buggies were already parked in the side yard. Mandy wondered who else might be coming for dinner, very glad she’d made extra helpings of everything—especially her cherry and pecan pies.
    Sylvan helped her carry the food into the big farmhouse, where they greeted his cordial gray-haired mother before Mandy hurried back out to their carriage to get the box of small gifts she’d brought for Sylvan’s parents and the youngest nieces and nephews.
    Looking up just then, she was shocked to see Norman Byler walking this way. She thought she must be seeing things as he made the turn into the driveway, his long stride ever so familiar.
    Unable to budge, she just stood and gawked. What was he doing there?
    “Guder Mariye, Mandy Miller,” he called, apparently forgetting her married name as he quickened his pace.
    “En hallicher Grischtdaag,” she said, wishing him a happy Christmas.
    Seeing his determined countenance—the glow of winter’s sun on his vibrant face, his wavy wheat-colored hair—felt utterly wrong in every way. She was thoroughly married now.
    He reached her side and offered to help with her box.
    “Ain’t heavy, really,” she insisted.
    “Well, I’m here, so let me do this for ya.”
    She couldn’t imagine the looks from everyone in the house if she walked into her mother-in-law’s kitchen side by side with Norman. It was not the best way to start this Christmas gathering. “Are ya . . .” She stopped, unable to go on.
    “Jah, my parents are comin’ in the buggy with Glenice in a few minutes,” Norm said, perceiving her thoughts as he took the box.
    What sort of fancy name is that?
    “There wasn’t room for all of us in Dat’s single-seater.”
    “Oh . . . well, I’m sure.”
    “I’m awful glad you and Sylvan will be at the meal, too,” Norm said so casually it stunned her. How could he just show up like this and nearly take up where they’d left off, at least with his informal manner?
    “Well, we’re related to the hosts,” she reminded him.
    He laughed nervously, or so it seemed. She really wanted to ask why he and his family, and Glenice from Indiana, were intruding on their family feast, but she knew it would be ungracious.
    Yet Norman must have guessed what was winding around in her head, since he began to explain that Sylvan’s parents knew he was in town. “They invited my parents and me and Glenice to spend part of the day here when they found out most of my married siblings are in Mount Hope, Ohio, for Christmas, visiting cousins.”
    They must not know Norm and I were once practically engaged, she thought, flabbergasted that she and Sylvan would have to spend a good portion of the holiday together with Norm and his bride-to-be.
    Norm glanced at the sky, beautifully free of clouds. “I forgot how much I’ve missed Hickory Hollow.”
    She pondered his nearness, his remarkable friendliness. Like always.
    “What is it, Mandy?”
    “Nothin’.” She sighed. “I’m just surprised to see ya. And on Christmas, yet.”
    He smiled down at her as he carried the lightweight box, his black felt hat tilted off center, like he’d always worn it during Rumschpringe. He glanced into the box and said,“Unfortunately, we have no gifts for you and your family. Glenice isn’t accustomed to gift givin’ at Christmas, being from out in the Midwest, ya know. She comes from a mighty strict Gmay .”
    “Understandable,” Mandy said, thinking how awkward this conversation was.
    Glenice . . .
    He matched his stride to hers. “Seein’ you, well, like this, is mighty unexpected,” he admitted. “But it’s nice for two old friends to get caught up a little.”
    She made no reply.
    “Glenice Lehman and I will be wed the Tuesday after New Year’s,” he said just then. “Her family will come here for the