A Marriage for Meghan by Mary Ellis Page A

once their bruises heal. I just wanted you to be ready for what they look like.”
    Ruth ran down the steps with a vigor belying her age, while the bishop followed at a more moderate pace. However, only their two daughters greeted her in the kitchen. “Where are James and John?” she asked.
    Catherine poured her mother a cup of coffee. “They’re in the barn doing morning chores. They’ll be fine. Please don’t worry. They both said it looks far worse than it is.”
    “They look terrible,” Meghan interjected. “John’s nose is as big as a banana, and James’ right eye is almost swollen shut.” She set a steaming pot of oatmeal on the table trivet.
    Seeing Ruth’s pale face, Catherine tried to catch her sister’s attention with an exaggerated frown.
    “Shouldn’t they go to the hospital?” asked Ruth. “What if there’s permanent nerve damage?”
    “Sit, fraa .” Gideon pressed on her shoulder until she lowered herself into a chair. “Once the milking is finished, I will insist they take the buggy to Doc Weller’s. He has one of those X-ray machines in his office to check things out. James’ ribs might be cracked. He was in a lot of pain last night. If the doctor thinks they need a hospital, he’ll say so.” Gideon watched Catherine gobbling her oatmeal by the sink. “Sit, daughter. Eat breakfast properly and not like one of our plow horses.”
    “Sorry, daed , but Meghan and I need to leave. It snowed last night, and I want to sweep the blacktop before the scholars arrive.”
    “Get those big eighth grade boys to help,” he said, savoring the aroma rising from his cup.
    “She just wants to make sure we beat Owen Shockley to school,” said Meghan. “We don’t want anymore nasty surprises.” She helped herself to several slices of toast from the stack before Catherine grabbed her sleeve and nearly dragged her from the room.
    “Oh, Gideon. I’m so worried about my children.”
    “All will be well, dear heart, eventually.” He heard the door slam behind his daughters but immediately another sound in the yard drew his attention. A car with a large door decal and mounted roof lights spun gravel in the driveway. “ Ach , now what?” he muttered. “It’s Sheriff Strickland.”
    Ruth set the oatmeal back on the stove and then hurried up the stairs to dress.
    Gideon waited by the kitchen door, sweeping it wide as soon as the tall, burly Englischer raised his hand to knock. “Good morning, Sheriff. How about some coffee?”
    The man stepped into the room, pulling off his wide-brimmed hat. “Good morning, Bishop. Hope I haven’t come too early.”
    “Not for farmers, you haven’t,” said Gideon. “Oatmeal? Toast? My wife could fry you a couple eggs.”
    “No, thank you. Coffee will be fine. I’ve already eaten. I’ve just come for a quick word with you, sir.” He settled his bulk into a chair.
    “How did it go at the Shockley place?” asked Gideon, filling their coffee cups.
    “I’ll stop there later this afternoon. There was an accident on the interstate yesterday evening that closed the road in one direction for hours. It had the department tied up all night.”
    “You have more important things than mischief at an Amish school. You can let me talk to the boy’s parents and get to the bottom of this.”
    “It’s no trouble, but I’m not here right now about some schoolboy with a grudge.” Strickland rubbed one shoulder as though in pain. “A call came in to my dispatcher while we were tied up at the wreck. Seems as though there was trouble at the pizza shop last night.”
    Gideon’s chin snapped up “You heard about that already? None of the boys called the police.”
    “Mr. Santos called us. One of my deputies stopped there before going off duty. Santos saw the fight in his back lot from a window. He called nine-one-one immediately, but by the time we could respond everybody had gone. My deputy took photos of some tire tracks in the snow. The field wasn’t plowed and