A Marriage for Meghan by Mary Ellis

his father’s gaze and then slowly shuffled up the stairs. His gait was that of a very old man.
    James put a palm on his midsection and lowered himself to the chair, wincing with pain. “I don’t rightly know what happened. We were having pizza at Santos in town and minding our own business. Then, when we were leaving, we got jumped and beaten up in the parking lot.”
    “ Jumped ? By whom?” Gideon leaned forward in his chair.
    “The guy didn’t exactly introduce himself before socking me in the mouth.” He patted the scab thickening on his lip. “We parked our buggies behind the restaurant so the horses wouldn’t mess the parking lot. It was pitch-dark back there. There were five of us, so there had to be at least that many of them. I’m thinking maybe even more.” He focused his bloodshot eyes on the napkin holder. “At one point, one guy held my arms back while another punched me in the gut.”
    Gideon felt a visceral pain in his own belly. Someone had hurt his boys, his gentle-hearted sons, who’d spent the past two days helping others besides doing their own chores. “What kind of people were in the pizza parlor? Did any of you inadvertently stare too long at some English girls and offend their dates?”
    James shook his head. “No, daed. Nothing like that. I remember only a couple families with little ones eating while we were there. But lots of folks came and went, picking up take-out orders.”
    Gideon folded his hands, interlacing his fingers as though in prayer. “Why would anybody do this?” A dull ache began behind his eyes.
    “A couple of rough-looking guys came in to pick up a pizza. They stared at us and laughed and made some rude comments.” James’ words hung icily in the warm kitchen.
    “What kind of comments? What did they say?”
    James exhaled through his teeth. “The usual…how can we tell each other apart since we all look exactly alike?”
    Gideon leaned across the table. “What did you do about it?”
    “Nothing. We ignored them the way we’ve been taught.”
    “What about in the parking area? Did you fight back once they started it? I need to know if you lost your temper.”
    James pressed his hands down on the table and struggled to his feet. “Does it look like we fought back? No, daed, I threw no punches. I pushed one guy, but only to get him away from John. We stood there and took the beating.” His inflection revealed his opinion of their Amish pacifist nature, at least for the moment. “John has already gone upstairs. I’m taking a shower and then going to bed. But you can sleep easy—your sons did nothing to bring this on.” He patted his father’s shoulder briefly and left the room.
    Despite his son’s reassurance, Gideon barely slept at all that night.
    What was happening in his quiet little town? And would he be able to make it stop?

Six
    W ith the crow of the rooster, Gideon awoke to a cold morning that arrived much too soon. “Remind me to put an end to that obnoxious bird the next time you want a stewing chicken.” He scrubbed his face with his hands before trying to focus on the windup clock.
    “And deprive our hens of future broods? You know how Meghan loves those baby chicks. She pets them like kittens.” Ruth spoke from her favorite cold weather spot—with her head beneath the covers.
    “My back feels as though I slept in a dresser drawer.” As he stood, the memory of last night came flooding back. He needed to prepare his wife for their sons’ appearance at the breakfast table. He gently pulled back the quilt. “Ruth, there was trouble last night at the pizza shop in town. Some thugs decided to beat up our sons and their friends.”
    She bolted upright with eyes ablaze. “Who would do such a thing? Are they all right? Did James or John provoke the other boys?” As she jumped out of bed and shrugged into her robe, her questions came rapid-fire.
    Gideon provided the few details he knew. “They’re fine, fraa , or at least they will be