A Marriage for Meghan (11 page)

“Why’s school called off? Are you—” The question froze in the girl’s throat as she peered around the room.

Catherine strode to her. “Someone has made a mess of things, but don’t you worry. Meghan and I will be able to fix things up by tomorrow.”

Annabeth gaped at her classroom, confused and frightened. “Who done this?”

“Who
did
this,” Catherine corrected. “And I don’t know. But I do need you to be my helper.” She gently turned the girl’s shoulders so they faced each other. “I want you to stand at the end of the drive and tell
kinner
that there’s no school today and they need to come back tomorrow.”

Annabeth’s eyes grew round as saucers. “You want
me
to help?”

“
Jah
, I know you can do a good job.”

“What’ll I say if they ask why?”

“Say the teacher doesn’t feel well. It’s not a lie. I’ve felt sick to my stomach since I got here.”

The child ran out the door to stand sentinel near the road, blocking the path if any curious students tried to step around her. But most hurried away, happy for a day off.

Before Catherine had a chance to finish straightening the desks, a police car pulled up the driveway with its red and blue lights flashing.

Well, now I know what
daed
decided to do
, she thought, tightening the cloak around her shoulders. She hurried to meet the man at the door.

“Hullo, Miss Yost,” he said, climbing the steps.

“Good morning,” she murmured as she stepped aside.

“I’m Sheriff Bob Strickland. Your father called me from the neighbor’s and asked me to stop by here.” His smile deepened the web of fine lines around his eyes. “Whoo-wee, somebody had a bone to pick with you.” He stood slowly assessing the classroom with a critical eye. After a moment he opened the door to the woodstove and poked around in the smoldering ashes. “They seem to have made a big mess, but there’s no real damage.”

“What do you mean?” Catherine’s gaze focused on the woeful geranium on the floor, its roots bare and dusted with snow.

“They didn’t throw your grade books or teacher manuals into the fire, break out the windows, or spray paint the walls. I’ve seen far worse than this.” He settled his hands on his hips. “Not to minimize your distress, but after a good cleaning you’ll be back in business.”

She glanced around again and nodded in agreement, while he began feeding kindling into the stove. Once the fire took hold, he closed the door and single-handedly set her desk upright. Pulling the chair on casters over to the warmth of the fire, he said, “Suppose you sit here, Miss Yost, and tell me what’s been goin’ on in class. Who do you think might have done this?” The sheriff righted a bench and sat down. By the time she explained the change in teaching staff and the three troublemaking eighth graders, Meghan had returned with their father.

Gideon hurried into the classroom with his black coattails and white beard flying. “Are you all right, Catherine?” His pale blue eyes took in the scene with alarm.

“Of course, I am. Sheriff Strickland says it’s not as bad as it looks.” She went to her father to calm his fears.

“
Jah, jah
, maybe so,” the bishop admitted, breathing hard. “But James and John will come later to help. You gals can’t fix this by yourselves.”

“After they straighten out the damage at the Miller farm?” Catherine asked with a pang of guilt. “My
bruders
will be working till midnight.”

“Do you think this is somehow connected to yesterday’s turfing of those fields?” asked the bishop.

The sheriff rose to his feet and motioned for Gideon to sit. “I don’t think so, Bishop. A big truck must have done that.”

“Did my daughter tell you about stopping at the homes of three boys yesterday?”

Catherine heard her father’s question on her way to the door.
Why is
daed
telling the English policeman about school business?
She didn’t want anyone else involved with her students, but she certainly couldn’t tell her father what to do.

With a queasy stomach, she joined Meghan and Annabeth by the road, where they were still turning pupils away. One tiny girl had wrapped her arms around Meghan’s skirt and refused to leave. Catherine didn’t like suppositions and conjectures. She remembered Joshua and Robert’s shame and
knew
they would never participate in something like this.

But could Owen Shockley? There had been no expression of remorse on that boy’s face. Just anger, resentment…and challenge.

Meghan couldn’t go home after the classroom was tidied. With her
bruders
’ help, she and Catherine quickly put everything back and mopped up the melted snow. Even the geranium, replanted in a new pot, was expected to make a full recovery. After Catherine and
daed
left in one buggy, she headed to the Kauffman farm in the other. Joanna would probably appreciate hearing the story firsthand instead of as over-the-fence gossip. And Meghan wanted to listen to any advice the calm and collected former teacher had to offer.

She rapped on the door and waited, listening to the tinkle of wind chimes hanging from the porch eave.

After a minute the door swung open. “Meghan, come in. Good to see you.” Joanna gave her shoulders a squeeze. “Is school out already?” Her face brightened with curiosity as she pointed to a chair at the table. “How about a cup of tea?”

“
Jah, danki
.” Meghan tried not to stare at the woman’s rounded belly. She glanced around the cheery room while the other woman fixed the tea. The pale cream walls looked freshly painted with dark muslin curtains. A braided rug of navy and dark green sat beneath their feet, while the enamel propane stove and refrigerator looked brand new. “Your home is very nice,” said Meghan, inhaling the scent of potpourri from a pot simmering on the stove.

“
Danki.
My
ehemann
and I have recently moved into the main house after my in-laws insisted on moving to the
dawdi haus
.” Joanna’s cheeks glowed with vitality. “His
mamm
says soon we’ll start filling the five bedrooms. I will show you the nursery we just painted, but first I want to hear about the class. How are my two fine replacements doing?” She set steaming cups of tea down along with a plate of oatmeal cookies.

“We were muddling along okay, I suppose. No nomination for teachers of the year, but making progress in your lesson plans.” She nibbled on a cookie, thinking how best to proceed. “Then we ran into a roadblock yesterday.”

Joanna smiled and patted her hand. “I hit a few icebergs as well during my first year. It comes with the job. Tell me what happened. Maybe I can offer some advice.”

Meghan set down the cookie so her hands would be free and launched into a brief update. When she recapped the morning’s traumatic discovery, Joanna’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head.

“Do you suppose it was Joshua, Robert, and Owen? Perhaps some sort of retaliation for speaking to their parents yesterday?” Joanna asked softly.

Meghan thought back to Robert’s
mamm
. She sounded quite certain her son would offer no further problems in school. And Joshua? She’d seen rabbits facing a pack of snarling dogs that looked braver. “I don’t think Robert or Joshua had a hand in this, judging by how the meeting with their parents went. But I don’t know about Owen. I certainly wouldn’t want to aggravate Mr. Shockley, but Owen looked angry that we had come to his house.” She wrung her hands. “I don’t want to accuse him and rile up his
daed
if he had nothing to do with it.”

Joanna pursed her lips. “Wise of you. Mr. Shockley has more of a temper than most Amish folk. Did you say the English sheriff came to the school? How did he know what had happened in our community?”

“My
daed
called him.”

This tidbit surprised the retired teacher more than the other news thus far.

“He was worried about Catherine and me, and he was upset about the Miller farm.” Following the woman’s confused expression, Meghan expanded her update to include the pasture turfing and their recent escape of livestock.

Joanna sipped her tea. “That had to have been done by
Englischers
. Owen Shockley doesn’t have a four-wheel-drive truck at his disposal.”

Meghan squirmed in her chair. Frankly, she didn’t know why
daed
had called the sheriff so quickly. Amish folk usually settled disagreements among themselves. But she didn’t want to sound critical of her father. “I don’t think Sheriff Strickland will make us his top priority. He thought what happened at the school was more mischief than vandalism. He told my father to keep him posted, but he didn’t plan any stakeouts to capture the criminals.”

Joanna burst into laughter. “Sounds as though you watched plenty of TV while you babysat for those English neighbors.” She reached for another cookie from the dwindling plate.

Time to change the subject
, Meghan thought. “May I see your nursery now? I’ll bet you’re pretty excited about the baby.”

Joanna’s smile stretched from ear to ear. “I thank God for His blessings every day. Follow me.” She led Meghan down the hall to a small but sunny first-floor room. “The
boppli
will sleep next to our bed in a cradle made by Zack’s father. Then during the day, his—or her—crib will be here off the living room.” She beckoned Meghan inside the soft yellow room. Windows on two walls flooded the polished pine floors with sunlight. Against one wall stood an oak crib, a changing table, and a bureau. A white rocking chair, with a thick quilt folded neatly over the arm, waited near the window. A homemade teddy bear sat on the cushion, smiling in anticipation of his new owner.

“Looks like you’re ready,” murmured Meghan, observing each loved-filled detail. Her heart swelled with an odd sense of longing and regret.
What would it feel like to be Joanna—to know what she wanted in life and to have her future opening up like a rose in midday sun?
She quickly shook off the unexpected notion.

“What about you, Meghan?” asked Joanna, next to her. “Any serious beaus yet?”

Meghan shook her head. “My sister Catherine should get hitched first. And because her intended is in Kentucky, their wedding’s at least a year away.”

“That doesn’t really answer my question. Come on, I’ll keep your secrets, but I’m lonely for news that’s not farm related.”

Meghan gazed into her mentor’s sparkling blue eyes. They reminded her of floating on their pond with a fishing line over one side of the boat. “I believe I’ve already met the man for me. He’s someone I’ve known my whole life—my best friend, really. I can’t imagine my future without him. But I want to become a teacher first—a good teacher. I can’t put too much onto my plate at once. I’m not talented like Abigail or Catherine or you.” Her words dropped to little more than a whisper.

Joanna wrapped an arm around Meghan’s thin waist. “Talent is little more than a seed in warm spring soil. It must be nurtured and tended diligently if you want it to grow. Nobody becomes proficient at anything by accident. Be patient with yourself, Meghan Yost. I agree with your plan to find yourself first, and I have a feeling your young man will wait for you. Life is long. Don’t rush things until you’re ready.”

Meghan stared up at the woman she longed to become. “
Danki,
Joanna. I am blessed to have you for a friend.”

“And I, you.” Joanna closed the nursery door, and they walked to where Meghan had hung her coat.

During the ride home, she thought about Joanna’s parting words. Was she only trying to be kind, or was she truly glad to have Meghan as a friend? No one had ever sought Meghan’s counsel or appreciated her company the way Jacob had. And, recently, she had alienated the best friend she’d ever known.