Home for the Holidays (20 page)

“The first sewing machine was designed as a cobbler’s tool, to make shoes,” she told the group. “Isaac Singer designed a sewing machine with a foot treadle that allowed the sewer to keep her hands free to move the fabric under the needle. He made the machine affordable, too, so that nearly every woman in America could have one in her home. Since machine sewing was a hundred times faster than hand sewing, quilt making became far easier and more popular.”

“What sort of quilts were made after the war, Mrs. Humbert?” Edwina asked.

“Wool quilts were always a favorite, because people needed to keep warm. But the sewing machine allowed women to sew more for pleasure, and they began making what we call art quilts. Redwork, or white quilts with embroidered pictures in red thread, were all the rage at one point, and so too were crazy quilts, which were randomly pieced fancy fabrics with embroidery on the seams and patches. Quilters began embellishing their patchwork with all kinds of beads, fancy stitching and flowers made of silk ribbon or cut tuft work. Some quilters even painted little pictures on their quilts.”

“I’ve always liked the quilts from the thirties,” Rose said as she took out two examples from that era, a classic double wedding ring, and a tumbling blocks quilt to show them the improvement in fabric dyes. “This is when women were able to get more pastel and candy-colored fabrics. Dyes stopped running and fading, and prints became more elaborate.”

“Your quilts were made by Amish or Mennonite quilt makers, weren’t they, Rose?” Jane asked.

“Mostly, yes, although I do have a few Amish-style quilts now that I’ve made myself or with my quilting guild. Hand quilting takes time and patience,” she explained, “and
Amish quilt patterns may look simple, but they’re very demanding pieces to make.”

Rose told them how in the late seventeenth century a Swiss farmer named Joseph Amman had convinced many Mennonites to leave their church and form the founding families of the Amish religion.

“Bishop Amman wanted to preserve their heritage and follow the religious ideal of living a plain, simple life as they interpreted it from the Bible. Soon after the Amish split, they came to America and settled first in Lancaster County, then all over this region of Pennsylvania.”

Rose explained how quilting became both an art form and a method of socialization for Amish women. “Their quilts were always made entirely by hand. Although the quilts are almost always in solid colors and very basic patchwork designs, the designs themselves were never affected by the outside world. There are women in Amish country today who are making quilts from the same templates that their great-great-grandmothers used.”

“Completely untouched by time,” Ted said, snapping several photos.

“Even when Isaac Singer threw himself into marketing the first treadle sewing machine to every woman in America, very few Amish women actually bought them,” Rose said.

Edwina frowned. “But I thought it saved them so much time.”

Vera grinned. “A sewing machine is a modern contraption—the use of which is forbidden by their religious beliefs—but to tell you the truth, I think Amish women knew their quilts were spectacular because of the hand stitching.”

Jane was surprised to hear that while the rest of American quilters were indulging in lavish silk and satin crazy quilts during the Victorian era, Amish woman remained faithful to their cotton and wool quilts and only gradually adopted simple patchwork patterns.

“Quilting brought women together and kept them united as a community within the Amish faith,” Rose said. “They only adopted new ideas and methods as a group, never as individuals. That’s why it took so long for them to introduce patterns like Sunshine and Shadow, which is arguably the most popular and recognizable of Amish patterns, into their designs.”

She went to the next quilt, which featured bold primary colored fans against a black background. “This Grandmother’s Fan is one of the more radical Amish quilt designs of the thirties, and yet it still incorporates the predominant use of black and disdains prints for solids. The quilters used solid fabrics because some considered printed material a vanity. Although truth be told, I think they also
knew how beautifully solid fabrics showed off their quilting stitches.”

“What I think is fun is how they made a party out of their activity,” Jane said, “getting together to work on a quilt as a group.”

Rose nodded. “Since Amish women did most of their quilting during the winter months, it also served as a reason to get out of the house at a time of the year when they normally would not have an opportunity to socialize outside church.”

Vera told them how the celebration of the nation’s Bicentennial in 1976 had sparked an interest in quilts, as Americans refocused on the art forms of the past and discovered the unique qualities of Amish quilting. “It was then that Amish women began making some quilts to sell in addition to the ones they made for gifts and family use.”

“Have you sold any of your work, Mrs. Bellwood?” Laura asked.

“No, unfortunately, I don’t have that many completed,” she admitted. “Even now that my youngest is in college, working the farm is still a full-time job. As a result I can only do a little bit here and there in the evenings.”

“Rose also volunteers at the school where I teach,” Vera put in. “She comes in once a week to work with the members of the local 4-H and she teaches a regular craft class.”

“I teach fourth graders,” Edwina said, clearly pleased to learn that Fred’s wife shared her profession.

As the schoolteacher related an amusing tale from her classroom, Jane noticed that Laura Lattimer had drifted away from the group and was closely studying one of Rose’s folded quilts with a nine-patch design in gold, brown and olive green.

When she went over to her, Laura gave Jane a somewhat hostile look. “Let me guess. She doesn’t want to sell them and I shouldn’t ask.”

Jane smiled. “Wow, you’re a good guesser. Want to tell me how much I weigh or when my birthday is?”

“I get how protective you are of each other in this town,” the interior decorator said, sounding exasperated. “I’ve had three straight days of it. You needn’t fuss.”

Jane tried to think of something diplomatic to say as she glanced down at the quilt. “That olive green probably isn’t your color anyway.”

“No, but it would be perfect for a retiring Army general who is moving back from overseas next month and wants his house in perfect order.” The younger woman sighed heavily. “I’m no different from any of your other tourists, you know. Except that I
paid
to come here.”

“I’m sorry, maybe I misunderstood the whole meaning of this tour,” Jane tagged on. “I thought it was to explore
homes with classic architecture during the holidays, not clean out the owners.”

“Point taken.” Oddly, Laura didn’t seem insulted. “Look, honey, in my business, you have to be a power buyer or you don’t survive. Interior decorators are a dime a dozen in the city, and I have to fight to keep every client. Part of doing that is getting quality merchandise for the lowest price possible.”

Jane could sympathize with her on a certain level as the restaurant business wasn’t all that different. “You’re only looking in one direction, Laura. Private owners aren’t the only resources available to you here.”

“Your little shops are charming, I’ll grant you,” she said, making a casual gesture, “but I need household furnishings and accessories, not trinket boxes and home-baked blackberry pies.”

“Ah, but you’re not from this area, so you don’t know the many avenues to serious household stuff. Take quilts, for example. You’re only a few miles away from the heart of Amish country.” Jane pointed to the window. “If you take that road and head north, in no time you’ll see Amish farmhouses with quilts hanging on the front porch rails every mile or so.”

“I’ve heard about that. Are dryers against their religion or something?” She peered at the whirls of Rose’s hand stitching again.

“A quilt hanging on the porch means that the lady of the house has handmade quilts to sell.” Jane smiled as Laura’s gaze snapped up. “It’s what you might call the Amish version of direct marketing.”

Laura thought for a moment. “Old quilts or new?”

“New for the most part. Sometimes, if a daughter or son is getting married and relocating, both. Each Amish community has its own way of doing things, and it’s traditional for a newlywed bride to learn her in-laws’ ways of quilting.”

“Marvelous.” Dollar signs practically popped up in the other woman’s eyes. “They probably have no idea of what they’re worth.”

“Hold on.” Jane held up one hand for emphasis. “Just because they’re plain people doesn’t mean they’re naïve. They don’t give their quilts away. But you’ll get a better price from the maker than you could from a distributor or quilt shop.

“Country lifestyle and decor are very popular here,” Jane continued, “and our area markets and shops can provide you with all sorts of antiques and furnishings. Come back again. It’s not that long a drive from the city.” Jane tried to think of how else she could help the woman. “I love going to browse through the local markets and I’ve been to some that don’t advertise in our town guide. I’ll write up a list of them for you.”

Laura nodded slowly. “Maybe this trip wasn’t a waste of time after all.”

Jane heard everyone erupt into mirth behind them and tilted her head. “
Uh-oh
, I think we missed a good joke.”

As they rejoined the group, they heard Vera say, “Well, I’ll admit I’m glad I didn’t have you for a student, Ted. I believe I could tolerate finding frogs or turtles in my desk, but snakes?” She and the others laughed again.

“I keep an empty aquarium in my classroom,” Edwina told her, “for just such unexpected visitors.”

“What a good solution.” Vera was impressed. “I wish I could bring you to our next staff meeting, Edwina.”

“Actually, I’m thinking of coming back after the holidays,” Edwina said. “If I can get permission from the school board—no small feat there—I’ll bring my class with me and make it a field trip.” She waited a beat. “Without the animal specimens.”

Chapter Fourteen

S
ince the tour group’s driver had still not arrived, Rose sat with the group in the comfortable living room and read a story to her grandsons. Although everyone seemed happy, it was getting late. Jane noticed that Edwina was smothering yawns, Laura was checking her watch every few minutes, and Allan’s allergy symptoms appeared to be getting worse. Samuel and Rose also had their son and grandsons staying at the house, and doubtless wanted to get the boys to bed.

Jane decided to call the number that the driver had given to her to see if she could get an update on when to expect the minivan. “Rose, may I use your phone in the kitchen?”

The farmer’s wife looked up and smiled. “Certainly.”

The line was busy at first, but Jane kept dialing it until she finally got through to the driver, who was still in Potterston.

“I broke down on the way over here and had to call for a tow truck,” the man told her. “It appears that the fuel
pump is shot. There may be other problems too. The company is having it towed back to headquarters for a mechanic to work on it.”

“What should I tell your group?” Jane asked, worried now.

“I called my boss and he’s trying to rent a van for me,” the driver said. “Problem is with it being so close to Christmas, all of the rental agencies are tapped out. We’ll find something, though. It’ll just take some time. If you wouldn’t mind driving them over, you can leave those folks at that coffee shop in town.”

“Sir, the Coffee Shop closed hours ago.” Jane glanced out through the window. The wind was picking up and the temperature continued to drop, as it was forecasted to do through the weekend.

“Then they’ll have to wait where they are. Make my apologies to the people at the house. I’m doing the best I can.”

I can’t just dump these people on Rose or in town
.

“I’ll take them over to my home and let them relax until you can pick them up. Here’s the address and phone number.” She recited them for him.

“Thank you, miss,” the driver said. “I’ll call you as soon as I know something.”

Jane went back to deliver the news.

“How long did he say it was going to be?” Laura asked, irritated. When Jane told her that the driver couldn’t commit to a specific time, the interior decorator shook her head. “This company is such a rinky-dink outfit. I knew I should have booked with someone else.”

“We can’t impose on Mrs. Bellwood much longer,” Ted whispered to Jane. “Would you be able to take us back to town, Ms. Howard?”

“The shops in town are all closed by now, so I thought I’d take you home with me,” she said to the group. “I think you’ll be more comfortable there, and Grace Chapel Inn is beautiful, if I do say so myself. It’ll be like getting a bonus house on the tour.”

Edwina’s eyebrows drew together. “I hope the driver doesn’t take forever. I promised my husband that I’d be home before our son Jack and his family arrive from Arizona. Jack’s wife Marcella had my first grandbaby in September. They’re coming in tomorrow night, and it will be the first time we get to see little Becky.”