A Marriage for Meghan (39 page)

Meghan took no time at all to scramble off the snowmobile, thank Mr. Wright, and run for the house, shaking herself like a dog along the way. She entered the hallway, covered from head to toe with wet snow. Pulling off her coat and soggy bonnet, she dropped them into a heap on the rug. “It’s not fit for man or beast out there,” she declared, her cheeks bright pink.

“Who was in the other vehicle pulling into the yard?” asked Gideon, while Catherine hung up her wet clothes.

“Thomas. Good thing he was driving past the school just as I was leaving with Mr. Wright. He wouldn’t have found the way here if we hadn’t been leading. He was totally befuddled on how to handle bad weather.” Meghan clucked her tongue with disapproval.

Gideon draped a warm shawl around her shoulders. “All’s well that ends well. You did a good deed by bringing him back to the
dawdi haus
. Now come sit by the stove and warm up. I’ll fix you a cup of hot tea.”

Catherine watched her sister with fascination. She knew that little speech had been for their father’s benefit. As soon as he walked to the sink to fill the kettle, Meghan met her gaze, smiled, and winked impishly for good measure.

Sisters…Catherine would truly miss this one when she moved back to Abby’s and married Isaiah. A person had to get up very early in the morning to get a leg up on Meghan Yost.

M
eghan changed her clothes, towel-dried her hair, and sat by the woodstove until she started to melt. Catherine fixed meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and buttered yellow beans for dinner. Because Meghan had endured the nasty ride home to spare
daed
grief, Catherine insisted on doing all the work by herself.

But sitting around while others worked felt unfamiliar to Meghan. After two cups of tea she grew restive. Never does a person yearn to be outdoors so much as when weather conditions render it impossible. Nevertheless, she slipped on her sister’s dry coat and headed out to the barn. Although watching people milk cows had never intrigued her before, today she would make an exception.

“
Guder nachmittag,
James,” she called, entering the barn. “Where’s John? Why are you alone?”

“He’s rounding up the horses and steers,” James answered. “With this strange weather, we want all animals in the barn tonight.” His voice drifted up from the underbelly of a cow.

Meghan pulled up another stool, but she remained on the opposite side of the stall wall. She sat quietly while her brother milked, pondering the things Thomas had said. He had noticed the students paying better attention to her and thought she was the favored teacher. He believed she would have no trouble handling the classroom on her own if given the job
.
Too bad Thomas hadn’t been so optimistic regarding her future with Jacob Shultz.
Seldom are things irrevocable.
Maybe it wasn’t too late for her to undo the damage she had done.

Suddenly, she heard the scrape of a stool. James rose to his feet. At six feet two inches tall, he loomed above the stanchions. “What’s the matter with you, little goose? Are you injured or sick? Never in your life have you sat so long without running off at the mouth.” James stared down at her with feigned, exaggerated concern. “Should I call the doctor?”

Little goose? I’m nearly twenty years old, but I’m still a bird that pecks in the dirt all day?

Hundred-year storms, end-of-term fatigue, and her recent romantic tribulations all rolled themselves into one large ball of emotion. Meghan opened her mouth to retaliate or at least defend herself, but she found she couldn’t speak. She croaked out a single gasp and then started to cry as though a floodgate had been released. Her face dissolved into a muddle of abject misery. After a second unintelligible gasp, she buried her face in her apron and sobbed.

“Meggie! What is it?” In an instant James vaulted over the half wall and dropped to his knees in front of her. He put a large, calloused hand on her
kapp
. “What’s happened? Please tell me?” His words were soft as a child’s prayer.

“Nothing has happened,” she sobbed. “Maybe I’m just tired of being a
little goose
my whole life.”

“
Ach
, Meggie. You know I don’t mean anything by that. It’s a term of endearment, like when Cat calls you ‘dear heart.’” He patted her head like a spaniel that had won its master’s approval.

She sat up, pushing away his arm. Some of her sorrow changed to anger. “First of all, it’s
not
a term of endearment. It’s highly insulting to call a woman that.” She dug a tissue from the little packet Catherine kept in her coat pocket.

“Well, that’s not how I intended it.
Mir leid
, my dear
schwester
.” He took hold of her shoulders and squeezed.

His apology sounded sincere, but Meghan wasn’t having any of it. Again she batted away his affection. “Don’t be a liar, James Yost. Breaking one of the commandments will only make things worse. I heard what you said to John in the kitchen that time.” She glared at him.

He sat back on his haunches, looking confused. “What did you hear me say in the kitchen?”

Meghan hesitated a couple moments before replying. Then she spat the words as though they were a spoonful of vinegar. “John was tasting a pot of chili I had prepared and comparing it to Abby’s or Cat’s. Of course, it didn’t measure up to theirs.” She could feel pique transitioning back to grief.

James’ blue eyes turned soft and full of pity. “That John talks without thinking. But you were probably only ten or eleven when you made that pot of chili. Nobody is a great cook the first few times they try something new.”

She would have none of his patronization. “This isn’t about John’s assessment of my cooking. I’m talking about your words. You said, ‘Let’s hope that Meghan marries young so some poor guy can take care of her.’” Clamping her jaw shut she stared at him, not caring that her tears resumed with a vengeance.

James’ eyes widened with shock and disbelief. But soon the years fell away and his memory returned, bringing along shame and regret. “You weren’t supposed to hear that. I’m sorry, Meggie. That was a rotten thing to say.” Silence filled the cold barn while Meghan cried and James blushed to an unnatural red hue. Even the neglected heifer stopped mooing for a short while.

“You’re a rotten person, James Yost.”

“I am, without a shadow of a doubt.”

“And also…” Her mind searched for Thomas Mast’s description of males. “An insensitive lout.”

“You’ll get no argument from me,” he agreed while taking her hands. “But I do love you, little sister. And I also don’t think that way anymore. No, ma’am.” He shook his head from side to side.

“You don’t?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“Of course not. After the way you’ve handled those eighth graders in your classroom? Everyone in the district is saying you got those boys to learn more during their final year than Joanna Kauffman could have.”

“That’s just plain silly. Joanna was an excellent teacher. But why didn’t you ever tell me this?” She tried to pinch his arm through his heavy chore coat.

“When was the last time you came to the barn to see me? I don’t get much chance to sit around and chitchat, especially not this season of the year.”

She nodded. “I suppose I do keep my distance from muddy farm fields and smelly old barns.”

“Who smells?” he asked indignantly.

“You do and all your friends.” She hooked her thumb toward the cow that had resumed complaining.

James lifted his arm to sniff. “You can insult me all you want for the rest of your life.” He scrambled to his feet, pulling her up too. “I deserve it, but don’t forget I think the world of you, Meghan.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “If I were allowed to pick a favorite
schwester
, it would be you.” He kissed her forehead lightly.

She applied both fists to the center of his solar plexus. “Stop it, or I’ll start crying about
that
now.”

James bent his head to meet her eye. “You don’t need anyone to take care of you. You will do just fine on your own.”

She brushed straw off the hem of her skirt. “Enough. Hurry and finish your chores. I’m going inside; it’s freezing out here. Catherine should have dinner ready by now.” Righting her overturned stool, Meghan headed toward the door.

“Oh, I saw your old friend Jacob Shultz in town yesterday. He asked about you.”

That stopped her dead in her tracks. She whirled to face him. “What did he say, James?”

Her brother had returned to his low stool and resumed milking.

She hurried back to the low wall and leaned against the dusty slats, heedless of Catherine’s wool coat. “Tell me everything,” she demanded.

“I would have taken notes if I’d thought it was important. Let me think…he asked how you were. I said
gut
. He asked how school was going. And I said real
gut
.” James glanced up at her and grinned, as though pleased with his recall ability.

“That’s it? Nothing else?”

He turned his attention back to the heifer. “Well, he did ask if you were courting someone. I said I didn’t think so because you’re always up in your room grading papers.”

“He asked that? But why James?”

He looked up at her as though she’d lost her mind. “Jacob’s always been sweet on you. He asks about you every time he sees me, even if it’s two days in a row.”

She leaned down close to the Holstein. “But he’s courting Rachel Goodall. At least he took her home from the last singing in his courting buggy.”

“He did?” asked James, sounding surprised. “That’s the gal John has his eye on but has been too chicken to do anything about.” He made a boisterous clucking noise that the cow didn’t appreciate. Bessie stomped her hooves and almost knocked James off his stool. Meghan took a step back.

“Easy, girl, easy,” he soothed, patting her side gently. “Wait until John hears this.” He ran a hand down the cow’s flank with true affection.

“Do you think it was a one-time ride? Maybe Jacob’s not really interested in Rachel,” she said, no longer feeling the chill as she had been.

James stood, picking up his bucket of milk. “Meghan, I didn’t know anything about Rachel and Jacob until you told me just now, so how could I possibly answer that? But if you’re curious you should ask him. And if you’d like him to court you, then just say so. Stop sashaying around the pond and jump into the water.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am. Tell him how you feel. Men can’t read minds.”

“Oh, no.” She shivered from the thought, not the cold. “You don’t know how mean I’ve been to him.”

James led the cow back to her pen and joined Meghan in the aisle. “Then tell him you’re sorry and that you were an insensitive lout and ask for another chance. And now that’s cleared up, let’s take this milk to the house. My fingers are frozen solid.” He snaked an arm around her shoulders.

“Just like that?” She peered up at him.

“
Jah
, it’ll be as easy as strolling through a spring meadow.” He pulled open the barn door to an icy blast hitting them squarely in the face. “Although maybe not this particular spring.”

Gideon seldom fretted about the weather. Rain or shine, warm or cold, dry or humid—the hand of God could be found in each changing season, even in an extreme drop in barometric pressure.

The storm-of-the-century lasted three days as the English weather forecasters had predicted. During those three days, the Yost family went nowhere. School was canceled and James and John took no trips to Shreve in the sleigh because all businesses were closed, according to their neighbor. Mr. Wright came daily on his snowmobile with news updates. The roads and highways were impassable, the three closest airports shut down, and the damage to crops and property was estimated to be in the millions. Phone and power lines were broken everywhere because of high winds.
Englischers
had to live without heat, their means of communication, and a way to cook the food defrosting in their electric refrigerators and freezers. Even though Gideon knew their clever resourcefulness would pull them through the calamity, he prayed nightly for Ohio’s English population.