The Friendship Star Quilt (29 page)

“Okay, spin around so I can be sure I have all the pins out of your seams,” Anne instructed the young actor who'd play the part of Winthrop in the school play. She'd made a quick alteration to his trousers the night before and had brought them to this evening's practice so she could check the fit. “You wouldn't want to discover one hiding when you go to sit down during a performance.”

The teenager grimaced. “Ouch. I signed on to sing not be a pincushion.”

Anne laughed and shooed him off to get changed then turned to the last person in the line.

Brad's flag captain, Lexi, trailed yards of dark gray taffeta as Anne waved her forward. Despite the girl's best efforts to hold up the fabric, her bulky skirt still managed to trip her when she climbed the stage steps. She threw a glare at the cast members who'd remained after practice, daring any of them to so much as crack a grin. No one did.

“My skirt is too long,” she announced as she stepped on the low footstool Anne used for her alterations.

“Oh?” Anne teased. “I thought you enjoyed twirling yards and yards of taffeta.”

“On a flag, yeah. On this…” The girl wrinkled her nose. “Not so much.”

“What happened to the pretty blue dress we already fitted for you?” Anne asked as she set to work with her tape measure and pin cushion. “I thought your wardrobe was all set.”

“Mr. Johnson decided the widow needed something more somber.”

Anne had heard similar comments from several of the other young actors in the last two days. Brad had warned her about it, too. Apparently, Cal grew increasingly antsy as each play's opening drew near and often made last minute staging and costuming changes. She glanced across the auditorium to where the director stood deep in conversation with Brad, arms gesticulating as he tried to make a point.

He probably wants to rewrite the musical score,
she thought when she noticed Brad's scowl. Anne could certainly sympathize with Brad's frustration.

The show opened the following week, so there was no time for changes, musical or otherwise. Costume alterations took a lot of time. Luckily, the audience sat too far away to notice fine details so her stitches could be a bit bigger and less meticulous than on a quilt or regular clothes. However, the hems and seams still had to be done carefully so they'd be strong enough to resist the workout they'd receive from teenage actors during the run of the show. With Myra back in town, Anne could take time off now from The Stitching Post, so she planned to attend every performance in case of any mishap.

And to spend as much time as possible with Brad.

Anne pushed the thought from her mind and concentrated on pinning Lexi's new costume. The voluminous skirt seemed to stretch on and on similar to one of those confounding, infinity loops that never end. Her knees ached by the time she tucked in the last straight pin.

“Ta da!” she exclaimed, rocking back to sit on her heels. “Finished at last. Can you step down and walk across the stage, Lexi, so I can make sure the hem is even?”

“This is much better,” the girl declared. When she reached the wing of the stage, she twirled sharply to send her skirts swirling around her slender frame.

“Whoa, easy!” Anne warned. “If you spin like that, you'll make like a porcupine and send my straight pins flying in all directions.”

“Sorry,” the flag captain apologized, but her infectious giggle belied her words.

Anne chuckled and pointed to a seat in the front row where several garments were already piled. “Go ahead and change then put your costume over there so I can take it home with me tonight.”

When the teen went to the dressing room, Anne gathered up her scissors, tape measure, and the remaining pins. As she put them away, she spotted a small triangle of light purple fabric tucked in the corner of her in sewing tote. It was a scrap from her unfinished Friendship Star quilt. She plucked it from the tote and rubbed it wistfully between her fingers.

Her life had been so happy when she'd cut out the pieces for the quilt. She'd had a job, security, and a cozy place to call home. The flattering attention from Brad and Mario had helped restore her self-confidence, and her growing circle of friends had made her feel loved. For the first time in years, she'd viewed the future with optimism instead of fear. She'd started to believe she might be able to make a new beginning here, live a normal life with friends and maybe even a family. She'd chosen the pretty pattern to reflect her feelings. A symbol of her wonderful new life.

Jeffrey's upcoming parole had changed everything. She'd soon be on the run again, staying a few months here and a few months there. Her life would be as scattered as the unfinished quilt back at The Stitching Post.

“Ouch!”

Anne startled at the sound. She found Brad kneeling beside her, rubbing his knee to retrieve the straight pin that had poked him.

“A pin-knee for your thoughts?” he asked, offering the culprit to her with his endearingly boyish grin.

“Very funny, but I wouldn't quit my day job if I were you,” she said as she took the pin and tossed it in her tote.

“You wound me mortally, Quilt Shop Lady,” he replied, placing one hand dramatically on his heart and the back of the other against his forehead.

“Like I said, Music Man, don't quit your day job.”

He chuckled and rose to his feet. “If you're finished for the night, I'll drive you home.”

“Thanks, Brad, but you don't need to drive me. You have to pick up Jennie from the sitter. I can just walk.”

“You could, but I doubt you should try with all of those.” Brad pointed to the pile of costumes. “Looks like Cal's given you a bit of sewing homework, Miss Brown. You'll never be able to carry all of them home by yourself.”

He had a point.

“Thanks,” she said accepting the hand he offered to help her to rise.

He pulled her to her feet then leaned toward her. “Besides, I already told the sitter I'd be late tonight.”

Liquid warmth coursed through Anne as his eyes darkened with a desire. It was incredible. Brad wanted her as much as she wanted him. For just a breathless moment, she filled her senses with the sight and touch and feel of him. Let herself imagine how it would be to give in to the hunger and take Brad to her bed. To ride the waves of passion until their desire crashed around them, leaving them sated and complete. He would be a masterful but caring lover, she was certain of it. But she couldn't do it. Not to him, not to herself. It would make it much harder when she had to leave Grandville — and him — in just a few short weeks.

Releasing his hand, she lowered her gaze and took a deep breath. “Brad, I have a lot of work to do. I need to get started on those costumes as soon as I get home.”

“I could help,” he whispered, running a finger over her cheek. “I'm very handy at threading needles.”

She gave him a smile to take the sting from her refusal. “I'm sure you'd also be much too distracting.”

“I'd sure give it my best shot,” he admitted then gestured to the pile of costumes. “Let me carry your homework out to the car then I'll drive you to your place.”

For some reason, his gentlemanly acceptance disappointed her. On one level, his behavior made it easier for her, but on another, she longed for him to sweep her into his arms, kiss her hungrily, and try to convince her. He'd never be like Jeffrey, would never force her, but she'd expected a bit more of a protest. Averting her face so he couldn't see her warring emotions, she snapped the lid on her sewing tote with a bit more force than necessary.

“You dropped something,” Brad said, bending down to pick up a scrap of purple fabric. “What is it?”

Anne lifted the tote then gestured to a nearby trash can. “Just a leftover from a project that didn't work out. You can throw it away.”

“I wish you'd change your mind and come with us. Jennie is going to be so disappointed. So will Mom and Aunt Bonnie.”

Anne nearly caved in at the mention of Brad's daughter, but she managed to stay strong. Of course, it helped to be having the conversation on the phone. When Brad was with her, it was so much harder.

She'd save them both a lot of heartache if she would just muster up the strength to cut things off and stop seeing Brad completely. But she couldn't do it. He and Jennie were much too important to her. She wanted to carry as many memories of them as possible with her when she took off. Maybe memories would help her get through the lonely years ahead. Maybe not. The night at the play rehearsal three weeks ago had driven it home to her. She'd fallen in love with Brad.

A shiver went through her whenever she remembered how he'd looked at her that night. Incredibly, he seemed to love her, too. Oh man, she hadn't wanted it to happen. After the loss of her baby, she'd built a wall around her emotions so she'd never have to experience the pain of loving and losing again. Brad had slipped past her defenses and gently torn down the barriers with his sweet smile and gentle ways.

But she couldn't tell him. She had to keep him at arm's length so he wouldn't even suspect it. He and Jennie would be hurt by her leaving, but they'd be alive. If she caved in and stayed, Jeffrey might harm them to get back at her. She couldn't let it happen. In order to protect them, she'd leave. It would only be a couple more weeks at the most.

She would love to accept the invitation to spend Easter with them. It would be so much fun to color eggs with Jennie and see the precious little girl all dressed up in the frilly dress Brad had bought for her. But not at his parents' house. His mother and aunt would take one glance at her and would sense something was wrong. Women just knew those things. She couldn't risk it.

“Brad, I can't. I told you I already promised Myra and Ed I'd go to Easter services and have dinner with them. They've been so good to me since I came to Grandville, I just can't disappoint them. I'm sorry…”

“No, no. It's my fault for not asking you earlier than last week. I just assumed…” Brad's voice trailed off, and the disappointment in his tone tugged at Anne's heartstrings.

“Well, I won't make the mistake again. I'm inviting you right this minute to join us at my family's lake house for their Fourth of July party,” he said.

“Fourth of July? Isn't it a little early to start making those plans?” she asked, hoping he didn't notice her evasion.

“I'm not taking any chances. So mark it in your appointment calendar, Ms. Brown. And while you're at it, put down Thanksgiving dinner. Christmas, too.”

Anne giggled at his playfulness. “Brad!”

“What? Don't tell me you're already booked up for those holidays.”

“No, but I—”

“Good, then it's a date,” he said. “But I still wish you'd—”

“Wish your family Happy Easter for me, will you?” Anne paced the length of her kitchen and concentrated on keeping her tone light and cheery.

“Will do,” he promised. “You do the same for me with Myra and Ed.”

“Of course. Have a safe drive, Brad.”

“Will do,” he said again. “Can I call you on Saturday?”

“Of course. And make sure you take lots of pictures of Jennie at the Easter egg hunt for me. And some of her in her Easter outfit, too.”

He laughed “It would be easier if you just came along and—”

“Goodbye, Brad.”

“Fine. I'll take plenty of pictures, and I'll text some to you. But you can't fault a guy for trying.”

“Well, you
are
very trying,” Anne teased then glanced at her watch. “You should get on the road if you want to avoid the rush hour traffic.”

“Wait a minute. Jennie says she needs to talk to you. Here she is.”

A moment later, the child's voice came on the line. “Miss Anne?”

“Hi, Jennie. Are you excited about your trip to your grandparents' house?”

“Uh-huh. But it would be more fun if you were coming.”

“I wish I could, sweetie, but I already made plans with Mrs. Hodges and her husband.”

“I know. Daddy told me,” the little girl said. “It's why I asked to talk to you. I want you to come to my piano recital. It's special for Mother's Day, and since my mommy is in Heaven now, I
need
you to come.”

Anne took a deep breath. Mother's Day was the week after Jeffrey's earliest release date. She hated to make a promise to the child and not be able to keep it. “Jennie, I'll put it on my calendar, but I might have to—”

“Oh, please, Miss Anne,” the child pleaded. “It's my very first recital, and I'm really, really scared. I've never played in front of other people before. It would make me feel a lot better if you were there to cheer for me.”

“Sweetheart, you're going to do just fine. You and Mrs. McGuire have worked on your piece together for so long you could play it with your eyes closed.”

“But everyone else will have a mom in the audience to cheer for them,” the little girl said in a sad voice that tugged at Anne's heart. “But I won't. I'd feel so much better if you were there. Please.”

Swallowing hard against the lump that suddenly clogged her throat, Anne nodded. “I'll be there, Jennie. I promise. Whatever it takes, I'll be there.”