A Marriage for Meghan (16 page)

Paul cleared his throat. “I don’t suppose more are coming, considering how treacherous the roads were. We might as well get started.”

The bishop lifted a brow to Paul. “You came the greatest distance and yet arrived with time to spare.”

Paul waited until the three women and Gideon’s two sons carried in the food before replying. “I hired a driver to bring my family. We couldn’t have come this distance by buggy. The roads were almost impassable. The other minister came in his sleigh. We have much to discuss this afternoon, Gideon. Things too important to stay home.” He hesitated, his breath condensing in the frigid air. “Much has gone on these weeks since we last met. Much that we take exception to.”

Gideon started up the steps. “Then let’s begin the service. We’ll have time to talk after the noon meal.” He sounded calm and reserved, not revealing the turmoil within his soul.

While the congregation sang the opening hymn in High German, the four men met in the kitchen to decide how each would serve during worship. Paul would deliver the thirty-minute opening sermon in High German; the bishop would preach the sixty-minute main sermon in Pennsylvania
Deutsch
. David would read Scripture, while Stephen would lead both silent prayers and spoken prayers from their prayer book. They agreed not to deviate from their usual three-hour service.

The bishop concentrated on serving God and leading his congregation. Afterward, as he fixed his plate for the noon meal, he discovered he neither feared nor dreaded the meeting, although his appetite for cold salads, sliced ham, and fresh pie was far less than usual. After eating what he could, he waited for the deacon and ministers to finish, and then he rose to his feet. Stephen directed them into the semi-enclosed porch. The potbellied stove had been lit in anticipation. Although the men had to don their coats and hats, the late February storm all but guaranteed no one would interrupt their meeting.

After drawing chairs close to the woodstove, Paul wasted no time with small talk. “The fact that you did not keep to our agreed course of action has grieved us sorely.” His face began to turn pink from the cold. “The last time we spoke, we said we would search for the culprits responsible for the damage on our own.”

Gideon shifted in the lawn chair, glancing at the other two. They both nodded with grave expressions. “
Jah
, that is true.”

“And yet,” Paul continued, “Silas Miller told me a deputy from Wooster dropped by his place asking questions. The whole ordeal has distressed Silas because he’d made no complaint to the English law authority nor did he wish to. He made that quite clear to the deputy filling out the report.” Paul breathed through his nostrils as his voice rose with indignation. “Why didn’t you keep this within our community and allow us to find the guilty party?”

Gideon placed his hands on his knees, splaying his stiff fingers. “I didn’t call the police because of what happened at Silas’ house. I called because of the damage to the schoolhouse. When the sheriff asked if this had been the first incident of vandalism, I could not lie. I told him about the Millers, my fences, and the mailboxes.”

“
Ach
,” David said. “Will nothing be kept to ourselves?”

“Why did you call him before even viewing the school for yourself?” asked Paul.

Gideon wasn’t sure how Paul had learned that tidbit of information, but it really didn’t matter. “I feared for my daughter’s safety. When Meghan raced home to explain what had happened, Catherine was alone at the school.”

Two of the three nodded, pulling on their beards, but Paul persisted. “You feared an angry child would harm Catherine?” Incredulity practically dripped from his words.

“I had no way of knowing it was the handiwork of a student, and we still don’t know that. Meghan sounded as though the place had been demolished by a bulldozer.”

Paul snorted. “Your Meghan—that child should never have been appointed to the position. She has the common sense of a nanny goat.”

The bishop felt his face grow hot. “Catherine is head teacher, Paul. Her judgment has never been questioned. And Meghan has made great strides in her teaching skills.”

“All that is well and good, but Sam Shockley doesn’t understand why the English police showed up at his door instead of his district’s elders. That is how the Amish handle things, the way we’ve always handled things. If Catherine thought the boy had done the mischief, we could have paid the Shockley family a visit to talk.” Paul stretched out his hands, palms up, waving them as though in supplication. “What can be done now? The matter—an Amish matter—has been taken from our control.”

Gideon rose to his feet. The cold had begun to settle in his bones. “I regret my hasty action, a misjudgment on my part. As soon as the weather breaks, I’ll drive to the Shockleys to speak with them. This will die down. The Wayne County Sheriff’s Department has plenty of English crime to keep them busy. They will soon lose interest in our problems.”

Paul struggled to his feet too, as did the others. “I’m sorry about what I said about your daughter—that was uncalled for. And I hope you are correct about this dying down, but I fear the fuss is only beginning.” He emitted a long weary sigh. “That sheriff called in an FBI agent from Cleveland. Wherever the FBI goes, the media follows. Now the whole state will be watching what goes on in our little world.”

After preaching Meghan ate her lunch with her sister, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the other table. The men were sitting at long plank tables set up in the front room after the benches had been moved out. Her brother James was talking to Glen, Jacob’s best friend. That in itself was nothing unusual. Most of the young men were pals. But the fact they kept stealing surreptitious glances in her direction was very odd.

She had to wait, however, to learn why she had been their object of curiosity until she’d done her share of kitchen cleanup. Once the dishes had been washed and put away, she went in search of her brother, finding him under the overhang of the livestock barn. James and several other young men passed a pipe of tobacco back and forth.

“James,” she said, after reaching his side. “
Daed
wouldn’t like it if he knew you were smoking.”

James leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Then don’t tell him, little sister. This is just a bit leftover from the last tobacco auction.”

Meghan frowned. “It’s bad for your health,” she hissed under her breath. “I don’t want you getting sick.”

“I’ll have two or three puffs. That’s not enough to kill anybody.” He pulled her gently by the arm away from the other men. “Was there something you wanted, Meghan? Or did you come out here just to pester me?”

She crossed her arms and peered up at her oldest brother. “I’d like to know why you and Glen Yoder kept gawking at me during lunch.”

James glanced back at the men. While one kept watch for approaching elders, another refilled the pipe from a small tobacco pouch. “Glen talked to Jacob Shultz last night. You
do
remember Jacob, don’t you? He’s the guy who’s supposed to be your beau.”

“I know who Jacob is, Mr. Smarty-Pants. I suppose that after he spoke to Glen, Glen couldn’t wait to get to preaching to talk to you.” She wrinkled her nose. “And
daed
warned the women not to indulge in gossip.”

This brought a smile to his face. “It’s been a long winter. Anyway, Jacob got a visit from an English FBI agent. He drove all the way down from Cleveland to help the local sheriff’s department.”

“Help them with what?” she asked as a bad feeling took root.

“He was asking questions about the break-in at the schoolhouse. He seemed to think Jacob might have had a hand in it.” James leaned down so that his face was inches away from hers. “He also thought the break-in had something to do with you.”

Meghan stomped her boot in the slushy snow. “Of course it had something to do with me. I’m one of the two teachers those boys might be mad at.”

“Easy, little goose. Don’t get your feathers ruffled.”

She stomped her foot again, this time sending slush up his pant leg. “I have asked you many times, James Yost, not to call me that anymore. Name-calling is mean-spirited.” She felt a flush climb her neck.

James wrapped his arm around her. “Sorry, Meggie. Old habits die hard. I keep forgetting our
boppli
is no baby anymore.” He squeezed her shoulders affectionately. “That FBI agent thought Jacob might be trying to get back at you because you’ve been giving him the cold shoulder.”

“That’s absolutely ridiculous. He would never do such a thing.”

“I agree, and that’s what Jacob told the agent. But you know cops. They don’t usually take the suspect’s word for it.”

“The suspect?” she squawked. “Oh, James. We must do something. How can we help him?”

James turned her shoulders to face the house. “You can go inside, little
schwester
. Your lips are almost blue. Jacob can take care of himself.”

She shook off his patronizing hold. “Rumors alone can cause his family grief. It just isn’t fair to compromise a person’s reputation.”

“Go in the house, Meghan,” he said more sharply. “Things have a tendency to get worse when you stick your nose in them.”

On Tuesday, her day to leave with the bell, Meghan turned right out of the schoolyard instead of heading toward home. She’d already told her
mamm
she needed to buy materials in Shreve—paper, pencils, colored chalk, and poster board to make new flash cards. But school supplies weren’t her only reason to go to town. She was determined to talk to Mr. Santos.

What she had learned after church through the well-oiled Amish grapevine kept her sleepless for two nights. Jacob was her best friend whether or not she was ready to walk down the aisle with him. She couldn’t allow him to be mistreated because of her. Big, blustery Jacob had a shy side, one that few people knew about. He wouldn’t like being the center of attention or part of an investigation. The Shultzes were quiet, retiring folks who kept to themselves. If Mr. Santos had new information as to who had beat up her brothers, the English police officers could focus on that crime. Then maybe they would leave her friend and her school alone.

After buying her supplies at the dollar store, she left her buggy tied up and walked to the restaurant. A bell above the door announced her arrival as she walked in. A family of five eating pizza in a booth smiled in her direction.

“Hullo,” she said as she walked up to the front counter. Other than the one family, the place was empty. Fortunately, clanging pots and pans beyond the swinging door indicated someone was close at hand. Within a few moments, a rotund, sweet-faced man, not much taller than she, emerged with a coffeepot in hand.

“Welcome,” he said, setting the full pot on a hot plate. “Would you like to order a pizza? Mine are the best in town.”

Meghan giggled. “Aren’t you the only pizza shop in town?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t change the fact I make great pizzas!” His girth revealed his personal fondness for his cooking.

“True, and my brothers said they are delicious. I’m Meghan Yost.” She smiled, trying not to stare at his huge mustache. Amish men never wore mustaches.

“Miss Yost, I’m so sorry for what happened here. Please let me make you a complimentary pie to take home. Name your toppings!”

She blushed to her hair roots. “That won’t be necessary, Mr. Santos. My mother probably has supper already prepared. What I came for is some information.” Leaning across the glass counter, she whispered conspiratorially, “I thought you might have an idea who beat up James and John.”