A Marriage for Meghan (20 page)

King turned and slammed down the truck hood. “Suppose you tell me what this is about so I can deny it and get back to work. My garage ain’t got the world’s best shop lights.” He hooked a thumb toward the open sky.

Strickland’s gaze drifted around the foursome. “This is about a group of men fitting your general description who jumped five Amish men when they left a pizza shop in Shreve. They left behind tire tracks that would pretty much match these.” He kicked one huge tire lightly with his boot.

“
Amish
? Now why would we want to beat up sweet little Amish boys? They don’t bother anybody a’tal, except maybe their horses spreading pollution all over the roads. And maybe the fact they don’t pay taxes but still feel free to use their share of services.” King wiped his hands on a rag tucked in his belt.

Mast felt a muscle tighten in his jaw. “You’re operating under some misguided notions, Mr. King. This gas-guzzling V-8 does more harm to the environment than horse manure. And the Amish do pay taxes, both income and property taxes, yet they almost never take advantage of social services.” He clamped his jaw shut before he offered more of his opinions.

“Looky here. We got ourselves a real bleeding heart liberal. That’s rare among the feds. They’re usually conservative to the core.” The mechanic sneered while his friends snickered.

Strickland stepped forward to intervene. “Politics aside, I understand you’re mighty fond of Santos Pizza.” His smile stopped short of his eyes.

“Like we have choices around here?” The ringleader leaned his muscular frame against the truck fender. “I don’t know who’s feeding you this line of bull, but I’d bet there are plenty of men fitting our general description, as you called it, besides lots of trucks with big tires.” He shifted his weight to the other hip, and then he began cracking his knuckles one at a time. “You take any tire impressions like they do on TV?” A slow smile bloomed across his face. “Oh, no, that would be impossible in the snow, wouldn’t it?”

His comrades laughed while the mechanic narrowed his gaze with near evil intensity. “I don’t suppose those Amish sissies gave you much description to go on. They probably didn’t even sign a complaint. In which case, you fellas are just wasting my valuable time.” He reached down to the toolbox and began digging around for a wrench.

Agent Mast stepped forward so he was inches away when King stood up. “Does it make you feel powerful to beat up people whose convictions won’t allow them to fight back?”

The man’s smirk vanished. “Like I said, it’s not against the law to eat pizza. And that’s all you got on us.”

“And pizza eating had better be all you do in town.” The sheriff stepped forward, keeping one eye focused on the men by the trailer. “We don’t like trouble in Shreve, if you catch
my
drift.” He turned to face Thomas. “Agent Mast, why don’t we let these upstanding citizens get back to work?” He angled his head toward their car.

Thomas strode to the vehicle without another word.
Why do I allow punks to crawl under my skin? So not a good idea.
But their ignorant, prejudicial attitude had gotten on his nerves. This man resented an entire society of people based on misinformation. All prejudice was wrong, but violence against Plain people was particularly loathsome to him.

Meghan awoke to sunlight streaming through the muslin curtains and the sound of buggies beneath her window. She threw back the covers and sat up, alone in the bedroom she shared with her sister.
Why didn’t Catherine wake me?
She peered down on the commotion in the yard. Men and teams of draft horses hauling farm implements were arriving at some appointed hour nobody had told her about. However, it took little intuition to figure out a work bee had been scheduled for the Yost farm.

She washed and dressed quickly, knowing her help would be needed in the kitchen. On her way downstairs she smelled bacon frying and cinnamon nut bread before she reached the kitchen. “
Guder mariye
,” she greeted. Several wives who lived nearby were already helping her
mamm
and
schwester.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” she whispered in Catherine’s ear.

“Because you needed your rest. I saw you up till past midnight studying the teacher manuals.” Catherine handed her a cup of coffee.

“
Danki
. I see men have come to help James and John.” Meghan breathed in the aroma and then took an appreciative sip.

“
Jah
, they began arriving at first light with teams and plows. They’ll make short work of that ruined wheat crop. They’ll plow it under and ready the fields for James to set soybeans.” Catherine stirred chopped ham and onion into the omelet she was creating, which looked large enough to feed twenty, and then she added a layer of shaved cheddar cheese. “When the cheese melts you can take this out to the men. Some may need a bite to eat before starting work.”

“I’d be happy to.” Meghan looked around at the other ladies. Sidelong glances seemed to be flying her way.

“Guess who organized the men into the work party today?” asked Ruth.

Meghan gulped her coffee. “I would imagine my
bruders
sent word they needed help.”

“
Nein
.” Ruth lifted crisp bacon strips onto paper towels. “They asked for nothing. The men showing up today came as a complete surprise.”

Meghan set down her cup and faced her mother. “I give up. Who sent word throughout the district?”

“Jacob Shultz organized the men.” Ruth’s tone could only be described as smug. “He rode around to the nearby farms, lined up available equipment, and then arrived here first this morning.”

Meghan felt a pang of sorrow but maintained a placid expression. “That doesn’t surprise me. Jacob has always been one to pitch in whenever someone needs help.”

“He’s a kind and decent man,” declared Ruth, more to her friends than to her daughter. The other women nodded in agreement.

“I don’t think you’d find anyone to disagree.” Meghan grabbed a stack of paper plates, a handful of forks, and a large serving spoon. “Is that omelet done yet, Cat?”

“As we speak.” Her sister winked as she pulled the pan off the stove with an oven mitt.

Considering her mother’s odd behavior, Meghan was glad to carry the pan outdoors to the workers. However, she barely set the eggs and plates on the picnic table when the subject of her mother’s conversation arrived at her side.

“
Guder mariye
,” said Jacob, sweeping off his felt hat. “
Danki
for the eggs. I left before
mamm
finished cooking breakfast.”

“Good morning yourself. Look how many turned out today. I want to thank you for organizing the work frolic.” She lifted the lid and cut the omelet into squares for easier serving.

“I didn’t do this because of you, Meghan. I’m here to help James and John.” He scooped up a hearty portion onto three different plates.

“Of course not.” She felt herself blush. “I only meant—”

“In fact, I was a little miffed when you sic’d the cops on me. You should know I’d never do anything to hurt you or your family. You might not want to court me, but I thought you said we’d still be friends.”

He locked gazes with her briefly, but it was long enough to spot his pain and disappointment. Meghan swallowed hard. “I didn’t talk to the police, Jacob. I know you would never wreck the schoolhouse.”

“You haven’t spoken to that FBI guy, Agent Mast?”

“I haven’t,” she said impetuously before remembering her conversation with the sheriff. “Well, I suppose I did once, but it wasn’t about you.” She chewed her lower lip, a former childhood habit.

“I see.” His green eyes had brightened and then dulled. “For the record, I understand about your wanting to be a teacher. Joanna Kauffman stayed longer, but usually a gal loses the position when she gets married. I just want you to be happy. Now, I need to get these eggs to my
bruders
. Tell your
mamm
I said
danki
.” Balancing the three plates, he walked toward the men clustered by the barn.

“How did you know I didn’t cook those eggs?” she called.

He angled an amused expression over his shoulder. “I just
know,
Meggie. You probably woke up fifteen minutes ago.”

She stomped her foot but luckily no one witnessed her display of temper. Following his lead, Meghan scooped eggs onto several plates to carry to other workers, but all the while she mulled over her conversation with Jacob. He expressed support of her dreams and plans and said he understood what she wanted.

So why did she not feel particularly joyous?

Never before had her choices seemed like a one-or-the-other proposition in life. And that realization troubled her long after the wheat field had been re-plowed, their helpers fed a hearty supper, and everyone had gone home. That night in bed Meghan tossed and turned, saddened because a woman could never have it all in life, whether she was Amish or English.

The following day, a nonpreaching Sunday, Meghan decided to take the pony cart out for a drive. Spring had arrived, bringing warmer days and new growth sprouting everywhere, although a stiff breeze still cut through her wool cape. Her parents would visit nearby district members, and Catherine planned to write a long overdue letter to her betrothed, Isaiah, while her brothers would attend the evening singing.

But Meghan needed advice. As much as she loved her mother and sister, she couldn’t pour out her heart about matters she felt unsure of. Opinions had a way of haunting her long after she’d abandoned them. She wanted Joanna, her mentor—a levelheaded, nonjudgmental, practical-thinking woman who wouldn’t think less of her if she changed her mind down the road.

Fortunately, by the time she reached the Kauffman home, their earlier guests were just leaving. She certainly couldn’t discuss sensitive matters in a front roomful of cousins. An older couple Meghan didn’t recognize waved as their two buggies passed on the driveway.

Joanna answered the door on the first knock. “Meghan, what a nice surprise! Is your family with you?” She craned her neck left and right.

“No. I came alone for a private word with you if you’re not busy.”

“I’d love to visit with you. The kettle is still hot…how about a cup of tea? I suppose you’re here for some classroom pointers. As graduation time draws near, those eighth graders become only more restless.”

“
Jah
, tea would be nice.” Meghan smoothed her damp palms down her skirt. Once they were seated at the kitchen table with steaming mugs before them, she decided to come right to the point. “I’m not here about the
kinner
, although I still have a different teaching question every day of the week. Today I need advice of a more personal nature.”

Joanna’s husband wandered into the kitchen and stood pondering his choices at the fruit bowl. Meghan waited to continue until he selected an apple and ambled back out. “How does a woman know what she wants in life?” she blurted out.

Joanna blinked several times. “Don’t you think you want to teach school anymore?”

“Oh, no. I love teaching, at least most days. But usually teachers are single and the school board replaces them when they marry. I sort of had a beau, but I sent him away because all I could think about was getting this job. I didn’t want the distraction of courting. Now that he’s gone, I wonder if I’ve made a serious mistake. I am so
indecisive
.”

Joanna stared into her teacup for answers. “You call it indecisive, but I call it normal behavior for a girl your age. Some women know whom they’ll marry at a young age and long for nothing else but to become a wife and mother. But that isn’t the path taken by all Amish women. Some never marry. And, unfortunately, a few girls marry the wrong man. It’s far better to remain indecisive than to make a mistake, because Plain folk don’t get divorced.”

Meghan sipped her tea. “What happens if the one I cast off marries someone else while I’m making up my mind?”

“That’s entirely possible. It’s a chance you’ll be taking. How about a cookie? I just baked these last night.” She pushed over a plate of cranberry raisin oatmeal.

A chance I’ll be taking?
What she’d hoped to hear was:
Don’t worry. Any man with a soft spot for you will be willing to wait forever until you’re ready.

But that wasn’t the advice Joanna offered. As they drank two cups of tea and ate three cookies each, Meghan changed the subject to her progress in the classroom.