A Marriage for Meghan (2 page)

Her mother smiled so sweetly that Meghan could do nothing but head to the back hall for her coat and boots. She should know better than to argue with her father. Her older sister, Catherine, was an expert with rationalization, which allowed her to at least state her case. Her eldest sister, Abigail, with a sharp intellect and gentle words, had the most success in getting her own way. But Meghan’s tendency to act first and think later or to simply beg in a whiny voice seldom changed anyone’s mind.

Pulling on her heavy wool bonnet, she picked up the battery lantern near the door and slipped outside. Despite the heavy snowfall, no sharp wind or piercing air quickened her pace toward the barn. In fact, she ambled along as though it were a balmy summer afternoon and sent up a silent prayer that her father would relent. Becoming a teacher had been her one true ambition since leaving school at age fourteen. Although she enjoyed working as a nanny, she yearned for her own classroom filled with bright shining faces, eager to learn. She hoped her
mamm
could convince her father that she would be perfect for the job.

“Why not give the girl a chance?” asked Ruth, once she heard the kitchen door close. “Have you ever met anyone with more love and enthusiasm for children than Meghan?” She resumed darning a very large hole in a sock heel.

Gideon snorted, folding his newspaper in half. This would not be a good night to catch up with his reading. “She loves being with children because she still thinks and acts like one most of the time. Have you forgotten some of the stunts she pulled as a student?”

Ruth peered over her half-moon glasses. “Have you heard complaints from the Wrights? Has she been unreliable or somehow irresponsible with their little ones?”

“No, no. They are safe and well tended in her care. But it might be nice if she helped Mrs. Wright with some of the housework while the
kinner
play. Instead, whether they are swimming, swinging, or running the length of the meadow, Meghan joins in the fun.” He rubbed his shoulder, trying to alleviate the crick in his neck. “I overheard Meghan tell a friend that she doesn’t usually wash the lunch dishes until she hears Mrs. Wright’s car pull into the driveway after work.”

“
Ach,
Gideon. Our youngest has a carefree heart. Soon enough she’ll be old and arthritic like us. Let her enjoy herself now.”

“Fine, but that’s why she should stay working where she is until marriage.” He struggled to his feet, the choice an easy one as far as he was concerned.

Ruth shook her head. “Meghan has never wanted anything more than she wants this. And she has wonderful patience with little ones.”

“She’s disorganized, easily distracted, and usually late wherever she goes.”

“I can’t argue with that, but everyone deserves a chance. She might just rise to the occasion and surprise us. You especially.” She narrowed her gaze at him.

“As the district bishop, it will reflect on my decision making if she does poorly.” He scrubbed his face with his palms as though waking from a bad dream. “What if teaching doesn’t work out for Meghan, but in the meantime the Wright family finds a new nanny? She’ll have nothing to fall back on.”

“Goodness,
ehemann
, didn’t you ever take a chance when you were young? Anyway, I believe she has already given Mrs. Wright her two-week notice, never anticipating the bishop, her own
daed
, would deny her the opportunity to fulfill a dream.”

“That was impetuous—my point exactly. She never thinks things through. And I can’t show my daughter special favors. It wouldn’t be fair to the other women of the district.”

“Has someone else stepped forward as a candidate for the position?”

Gideon’s face clouded over like the night sky beyond the window. “No, no one has, but I sent word to all the surrounding communities.”

“Why not let Meghan try? Joanna agreed to stay another week to train her replacement. What would it hurt?”

“A week isn’t long enough to impart the necessary maturity to handle a classroom of impressionable minds.” He began pacing the room.

Suddenly, Ruth straightened in the chair, a smile turning up one corner of her mouth. “What about Catherine? She’s twenty-three and has a very level head on her shoulders. Isaiah will be away at that school for the deaf for at least a year. Surely Abigail and Daniel can handle improvements to his cabin without Catherine being there. She can come back home.”

The bishop pulled on his snow-white beard, perplexed. “What good would that do?”

“Why don’t you suggest to the school board that they appoint Catherine as head teacher and Meghan as her assistant. You know that Catherine can handle the children, and Meghan can learn the necessary skills during the remaining term.” Ruth smiled rather smugly as she returned to the sock.

“That’s a good idea. It could actually work, as long as Catherine is willing.”

“I’ll write to her tonight so that the letter gets to the Graber farm soon.”

Gideon stopped pacing and walked to his wife’s chair. He leaned down and brushed a kiss across her
kapp
. “I’ll leave convincing Catherine up to you,
fraa
, as well as breaking the news to our youngest daughter. Who knows how Meghan will react to taking an assistant’s position?” He ambled toward the stairs.

“Where on earth are you going? It’s barely eight thirty.”

“To bed. I’ll need my rest if Catherine is moving back home and those two start working together.”

Ruth pondered his wisdom as she finished the sock. Recognizing sound advice when she heard it, she soon set her sewing basket aside and followed him up the steps. Besides, she had one persuasive letter to compose before climbing into bed.

Meghan thought she heard her name but burrowed her head deeper beneath the pillow. She hoped to return to the pleasant dream of floating on her back in the pond on a hot summer day. It was cozy beneath the double quilt with the shades drawn against nighttime chills or an intrusive morning sun. Suddenly, she remembered today was the first day of her new job and bolted upright in bed. Springing into action, she collected her clothes and headed toward the upstairs bathroom, only to find it occupied by one of her brothers. She would have to take a sponge bath in the downstairs tub, although a quick shower would have chased away the morning cobwebs.

In the kitchen her mother handed her a cup of coffee. “
Guder mariye.
”

“Good morning to you,
mamm
. I must get ready fast. Why did you let me sleep so late?” Meghan sipped the coffee black.

“I called you three times, but, as usual, you turned over and went back to sleep. You need to set your alarm clock and get up when it buzzes. That’s part of being a professional teacher.” Ruth poured cornflakes into a bowl.

“That’s true, but today I don’t have time to eat.” Meghan carried her coffee and clothes into the bathroom. Her mother was right. Self-discipline was the mark of a good teacher and a worthy trait to teach her students. Her students. Already they seemed like hers, even though Joanna would still be around for a little while. And due to her father’s insistence, Catherine was moving home to help in the classroom. But Megan was sure she would only need her sister for a couple of weeks. After all, Catherine had a cabin addition to oversee and a wedding to plan back at Abby’s. Then
she
would be in charge—a teacher at last!

Didn’t the two little Wright children smile each day when she showed up to work? Didn’t their mother describe her as a natural with kids? Soon she would make her parents proud and herself content, because no calling was nobler than teaching young scholars skills that would serve them a lifetime.

For now, Meghan concentrated on getting ready for work. After bathing with mostly cold water—thanks to her brothers—she downed a second cup of coffee and hurried out the door, nearly forgetting her scarf and hat. Because she didn’t know the current teacher very well, she hadn’t a clue as to what supplies to bring, but she assumed a positive attitude would be all an apprentice would need for a while.

Halfway down their driveway, her upbeat mood faltered when she slipped on an icy patch and fell on her backside. Unfortunately, the ground hadn’t frozen solid yet. By the time she scrambled to her feet, her skirt was both damp and muddy. For a moment she considered returning to the house to change, but then she decided against the idea. A tardy arrival would make a poor first impression. Anyway, her skirt would probably dry before she reached the school.

Just as Meghan passed the neighbors’ house, her former employer stepped onto the front porch. “Meghan! I’m so glad to see you. The woman I hired to replace you has a dead battery. At least, her car does,” Mrs. Wright added with a laugh. “I don’t dare call in sick because our department is already shorthanded.” The woman’s voice carried in the crisp air as though she used a megaphone.

Dread churned Meghan’s stomach along with the black coffee as she turned to face her. “I can’t babysit today, Mrs. Wright. I’m training at the schoolhouse. The teacher is expecting me.”

“Oh, dear. Who can I get to watch my children?” A look of panic was etched in the woman’s features.

Meghan dug her hands into her coat pockets and glanced longingly up the road. “I’m sure my
mamm
will help out. Are they dressed and ready to go? I’ll walk them home so you can leave for work.” She ran full speed up the Wrights’ driveway before she could change her mind.

“Oh, bless you, child. They’ll be ready in a jiffy.” True to her word, Mrs. Wright bundled her two little ones up and packed a bag of toys and snacks quickly.

By the time Meghan walked with them the half mile home, explained the situation to her mother, and restarted for school in the same muddy skirt, she’d lost more than half an hour. But at least the snow had stopped, and the sun reflected beautifully off the fields and rolling hills.

When she arrived at the white clapboard schoolhouse, she saw no stragglers lingering on the teeter-totter. No cluster of little girls whispered behind upraised mittens at the swings. Inside the double doors, Meghan found no one on the benches in the outer hallway. On the left side the boys’ black jackets and felt hats had been hung on the row of wooden pegs, while the girls’ navy blue coats and bonnets were neatly lined up on the right. Not a bonnet string dangled askew. With no pegs left, Meghan hooked her coat and outer bonnet atop another and quietly pulled open the inner door.

But not quite quietly enough. Thirty-five pairs of curious eyes turned in her direction, while the thirty-sixth pair appeared more impatient than curious. Joanna Kauffman’s eyes scanned Meghan from the bottom of her soiled skirt to her reddened nose, which unfortunately had begun to run.

“Meghan Yost, I presume?” Joanna stepped away from the chalkboard as boys in the back row began to chatter. The teacher clapped her hands and the chatter ceased. “Please leave your boots in the outer hallway. You’ll find a box of tissues on the windowsill. You may take a seat in the last row. Today, you’ll just observe. Children, this is Meghan. She may be your new teacher, but for now let’s return to what we were doing.” Joanna turned back to the chalkboard.

Meghan would have preferred blowing her nose before her official introduction, but it was too late to worry about that. Some of the older boys smirked, while several girls giggled. One girl—an eighth grader, judging by her size—stared at her skirt as though she’d never seen mud before. But at least she scooted over on the bench when Meghan approached, bootless and clutching a wad of tissues.

“What happened to you?” the girl whispered, not looking up from her paper.