A Marriage for Meghan (44 page)

She grew dizzy before her feet returned to solid ground. “I need to stay in practice for the fall. No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to grow any taller.” Meghan righted her
kapp,
which had been knocked askew. “Last year’s seventh graders were already taller than me.”

He leaned down to place a chaste kiss on her forehead. “In that case, practice all you want on me. I can handle it. I might even learn to enjoy it.” Jacob brushed her lips with a not-so-chaste kiss before she could stop him.

She blushed but didn’t complain. “Where are we headed on this fine day?”

He swept off his hat and ran a hand through thick, strawberry-blond hair. “We might drive by the old mill and maybe walk in the river later. Then we could buy a bucket of ice cream to bring back for dessert.”

“Dessert?” she asked. “Aren’t we eating in town?”

“I thought we’d come back here for supper so your family can get to know me better.” He winked with mischief. “And I want to see if that FBI agent needs help packing up his stuff. Just trying to be neighborly. After all, we don’t want his departure to be delayed.”

Meghan placed her hands on her hips. “I can’t believe you and my
daed
were worried about that
Englischer
. Goodness, Jacob.” She glanced around and then lowered her voice. “The other day I saw him crouched down in the grass studying an anthill. As though the comings and goings of ants makes for a fascinating afternoon. Can you imagine?”

“I guess city slickers are as interested in the country as some of us are curious about them.” He met her gaze, waiting for a reaction.

“I suppose so, but
I’m
not that curious. He told me about traffic jams that make Saturdays by the Wooster Walmart look like small potatoes.” Meghan rolled her eyes. “You wait here while I’ll tell
mamm
about supper. Plus, if we’re going wading, I want to grab my flip-flops.”

Jacob’s mouth stretched into a lopsided grin as he leaned back against the buggy wheel. “No need to hurry. I’ve suddenly got all the time in the world.”

There it is again—that hard to define feeling
. Meghan took several deep, calming breaths as she walked up the steps into the kitchen.

It was a sensation of utter, complete contentment.

Catherine knew it wasn’t polite to spy on people, but today she couldn’t help herself. She stood at the bedroom window in the dappled light, staring down on her sister and her beau. She’d seen their first tender kiss, but it was the second that made her giggle.

Meghan was
in lieb
…the same as her. Her younger sister had finally set things right with her best friend. Would they marry? Catherine had a feeling that someday they would. And that knowledge made leaving a little easier to bear. She withdrew a letter from her apron pocket given to her at the school picnic. With all the excitement of Joanna going into labor, Abby had almost forgotten to deliver it.

In the drowsy stillness of her childhood bedroom, Catherine read the poignant words from Isaiah for the twentieth time. They weren’t in his hand—someone at his school in Kentucky had written down his spoken sentiments. But they filled her heart with such elation that it didn’t matter that a third person had been involved.

Isaiah was coming home to Abby and Daniel’s for a month-long vacation. He intended to help his cousin cut hay, begin work on the addition to his cabin, and officially start courting her. It was a lot to get done within four weeks, but with plentiful hours of daylight and the energy level of those with big dreams, Catherine knew much could be accomplished before Isaiah went back to school. According to the letter, his sign language and speaking skills had improved considerably, along with his ability to read lips. During the next six-month session, his teachers would work on speech therapy along with reading and handwriting. When he returned after the second term, he intended to take the classes to join the church. And he planned to speak to the bishop about marrying her. Just as Catherine finished rereading the letter, a breathless Meghan flew into their room like a bumblebee.

“What’s that, Cat?” she asked. Meghan dropped to her belly in between their two beds. “Is it a letter from Isaiah?” Her voice drifted up from somewhere near the floor.

“
Jah
, Abby gave it to me before riding with Joanna to the hospital.” Catherine bent over her sister’s legs. “What are you searching for?”

“Found ’em! My flip-flops.” Meghan scrambled to her feet, holding up pink-and-brown plastic footwear.

“What are you doing with those?” Catherine asked, tucking the letter back into her pocket.

“I’m going wading in the river with Jacob.” Meghan blew off a coating of dust.

“On the Sabbath, and in your best dress?”

Meghan rolled her eyes. “I’ll be careful with my dress, and no one will see my bare toes, Cat. I have to run, but I’ll see you tonight. He’s not taking me to Santos Pizza like I thought. He wants to make sure Thomas Mast leaves town.” Meghan hooted with laughter on her way out. Suddenly, she stopped short and turned. “What did Isaiah’s letter say?” A suspicious expression replaced her exuberance.

Somehow a sister always knows.

“He’s coming back to Abby and Daniel’s next week. He’ll be home for a month before he returns to the school for the deaf. We’ll be able to work on his cabin—our future home—together.”

“That’s
gut
,” Meghan said, but her tone didn’t quite match her words. “Does that mean you’re leaving me?” She made no attempt to hide her disappointment.

“Good grief, dear heart.” Catherine wrapped her arms around Meghan. “I’m moving ten or twelve miles away, not to Denver.”

Meghan nodded. “I guess we’ll still see each other every now and then,” she said, her dimples deepening.

Catherine pushed her toward the doorway. “You’ll see me plenty. Now go on your date before
mamm
decides you must come visiting with us. Don’t keep your young man waiting. He might remember how punctual Rachel Goodall used to be.”

Meghan disappeared down the steps with a noisy clatter, but Catherine didn’t follow. Instead she returned to her post by the window for more spying. She observed Jacob’s face when Meghan emerged from the house. It was filled with love and affection. She watched Meghan take his hand, even though she’d climbed in and out of buggies unaided her whole life. Catherine saw Meghan’s expression as he released the brake and the buggy began to roll.

Watching the two of them filled Catherine with bittersweet nostalgia. Her little sister was all grown up. Soon they each would have their own homes and families. Their shared sisterhood, listening to each other sing…or snore…had dwindled down to a precious last few days. Yet in her heart, Catherine knew the love they had for each other would never change—no matter how many miles lay between them.

Thomas Mast was just making excuses and wasting daylight. But on his final afternoon as a resident of southern Wayne County, he was moving at the speed of a three-legged snail…if snails actually had legs. Despite the time he’d spent studying rural flora and fauna, he hadn’t crossed paths with any creatures like that.

He cleaned the Yost
dawdi haus
from top to bottom, filled a bucket with the ash from his woodstove, and forked the ash into the compost pile along with the coffee grounds he’d been saving. With Ruth’s permission, he cut a bouquet of purple and white lilacs to drop off at his mother’s house on his way home. Then he loaded all his possessions onto the backseat and in the trunk of the bureau sedan.

If he’d left at first light, he could have avoided the slow-moving English gawkers and the Amish buggies going to and from church. But he hadn’t been able to motivate himself. Instead, he walked the trail from behind the house through the pasture and into the woods beyond. He paused on the stream bank, counting tadpoles in the shallow pools formed by fallen logs and shifting debris. He listened to birdcalls in the trees high overhead and smelled the honeysuckle vines, sweet timothy grass, and, of course, the composted manure everyone used for fertilizer. But even the pungent odor of cow dung no longer offended his senses.

His former country roots had sent up new shoots and taken hold. Bob Strickland might have been correct—Thomas needed a country gal for a wife. Maybe not an Amish woman. He’d grown too fond of television, his car, and most of all his line of work. But he planned to look for a nice girl who would enjoy raising a garden, a houseful of children, and assorted animals for 4-H projects.

But settling down wasn’t the only conclusion he reached during his stay on the Yost farm. He needed to reconnect with his Amish family, especially his grandparents. And he’d been out of contact with God for way too long.

Thomas walked back to the little house he had stayed in and stood on his back porch gazing over lush pastures and fertile fields. Today he saw no disgruntled ex-Amish adulterers, no spray-painted epithets, and no hundred-year-old barns going up in sparks and smoke. He saw only paradise.

“What will you stare at once you return to Cleveland?”

“Are you sure you don’t want to take a cow home with you?
Daed
probably wouldn’t miss a steer.”

The simultaneous voices of Catherine and Meghan interrupted his thoughts.

Thomas turned to their achingly fresh faces with shining eyes and sun-kissed cheeks. “I can’t bring myself to leave,” he said. “If I leased this house permanently, how long of a commute to Cleveland do you think it would be?”

Catherine pondered for a minute. “At least an hour and a half, each way, in good weather. Longer, of course, when it snows.”

“Some
Englischers
manage it for a while,” added Meghan. “Stupid ones.” She winked one cornflower blue eye.

Thomas laughed while Catherine glared at her sister. “I’m going to miss you, Meghan.” He returned the wink. “And you too, Catherine, but for different reasons. I can’t tell you how much I’ve enjoyed living in Shreve, despite the unfortunate circumstance that brought me here.”

“And we will miss you, Thomas. We hope you’ll come back to visit.” Catherine extended her hand and he clasped it tightly.

“I’m glad you two stopped to say goodbye,” he said. “I wanted to tell you about a couple decisions I made.” Both women looked at him expectantly. “I wrote a long letter to my grandparents in Lancaster. I’ve brought them up to date on what I’ve done with my life. And I said I would visit them this summer. I have two or three weeks’ vacation coming that I intend to take in Pennsylvania. I can help my
grossdawdi
on the farm and get reacquainted with my aunts, uncles, and cousins.”

Meghan grabbed his hand and worked it like a pump handle. “That’s
wunderbaar gut
! They’ll be so happy to see you.”

Catherine looked equally joyous. “Do you suppose your parents might travel with you?”

“I’ll invite them, but I’m going either way.” He cleared his throat, suddenly nervous. “There’s something else too. When I moved in, your father left an English Bible on the end table. I started reading it in the evenings after I finished work.” He scraped his boot heel on the bristly floor mat. “I’ve…liked what I’ve read. Reading Scripture has given me a sense of peace, despite the nasty things that have happened.” Thomas leaned against the doorjamb and focused on an industrious spider spinning a web under the overhang. “I intend to try out that church I told you about. And if that one doesn’t feel comfortable, I’ll keep looking until I find one that feels right.”

“You’re allowed to do that?” asked a wide-eyed Meghan. “You don’t have to go to the closest one to your house?”