The Quilter's Daughter (21 page)

Dad set Jimmy on the floor again. “Say, how come Jim’s working on a Saturday? Doesn’t that man ever stay home?”

Linda sighed. “He’s trying to get a group of condos painted
before Thanksgiving, so he and his crew have been working a lot of overtime.”

Mom slipped an arm around Linda’s shoulder. “Why don’t we let Grandpa and Jimmy carry our bags upstairs while the two of us go to the kitchen to see about fixing breakfast?”

“That’s a good idea.” Linda looked down at Jimmy, who was already racing for the front door. “Get your jacket, and don’t try to carry anything too heavy.”

Her father frowned. “You’re just like your mother, Linda. You worry too much. I won’t let the boy do anything I wouldn’t have done at his age.”

Mom’s gaze went to the ceiling. “That’s what she’s afraid of, Thomas.”

Linda led the way to the kitchen. She would have to trust her father not to let Jimmy carry anything heavier than he could handle. “How’s my big sister and her family?” she asked. “Are they still going to Dean’s parents’ for Thanksgiving?”

Mom nodded. “Cheryl and the children have all had colds, but I’m sure they’ll be well enough to drive up to Lewiston to share dinner with her husband’s family.”

“It would have been nice if they could have come here,” Linda said wistfully. “Jimmy hasn’t seen his cousins since his birthday in April, and I know he would have enjoyed playing with Cameron and Pam.” She smiled. “Of course, I realize they have to spend some holidays with the Pattersons.”

“That’s true,” her mother agreed. “So, how are you doing, dear? The last time we were here you looked kind of down, but this morning you seem happier and more at peace.”

Linda pulled out a chair and motioned her mother to take a seat at the table. “I am feeling peaceful about my spiritual life, and it’s all because of Christ.”

Her mother squinted her pale blue eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Jimmy and I have been going to church, and awhile back I accepted Christ as my personal Savior.” Linda took a seat on the other side of the table. “I wrote you about it, don’t you remember?”

Her mother shrugged and started folding napkins into
perfect triangles. “You may have mentioned something about it, but I figured it was only a passing fancy.”

Linda released a sigh. “It’s not a passing fancy, Mom. I’ve made a decision to follow the Lord, and—”

“What were you planning to have for breakfast, dear? Shouldn’t we get it started?”

Linda pushed her chair back and stood. “I guess we can talk and prepare the meal at the same time.” She went to the refrigerator and took out a chunk of ham and a carton of eggs. “Do you want your eggs scrambled, poached, fried, or boiled?”

“Scrambled is fine. Would you like me to make some toast?”

“Sure. There’s a loaf of bread in the refrigerator. Do you remember where the toaster is?”

“I’ll find it.”

Linda placed the ham and eggs on the cupboard and decided to broach the subject of her newfound faith again. “There’s going to be a Thanksgiving service at my church on Thursday morning. I was hoping we could go.”

Her mother whirled around. “All of us?”

She nodded. “First there will be a program about the pilgrims and how they came to America to find religious and political freedom. That will be followed by some singing, and then Rev. Deming will deliver a short message.”

“What about dinner?”

“I can put the turkey in the oven before we leave. I’m sure we’ll be home in plenty of time to get everything ready so we can eat by one thirty or two.”

“If your father is willing to go, I will be as well.” Mom reached up to fluff one side of her blond hair, which she wore in a short bob. “I really should see about getting my hair done if I’m going to church, and maybe I should buy a new dress, too.”

Mom and Cheryl are just alike. All they ever think about is how they look and how much money they can spend on new clothes.
Linda cracked an egg into the bowl she’d placed on the cupboard. “There’s no reason for a trip to the beauty shop or a new dress, Mom. I’m sure whatever you brought to wear on Thanksgiving Day will be fine.”

“But it might be fun to go on a shopping spree, don’t you think? How does tomorrow afternoon sound, dear?”

Linda nodded. “Sure, Mom, that would be fine.” Maybe she would have the opportunity to talk about Christ later on.

“It’s been almost two months since the twins were born, and I’m sure I can handle things on my own now,” Fannie told Abby as the two of them began lunch preparations for themselves and the crew of men who were painting Abraham’s barn. “I think it’s time for you to return to Ohio.”

Abby shut the refrigerator door and turned to face her mother. “Not before Thanksgiving, Mom. You’ll need help with the dinner, and I’ve been looking forward to spending the holiday with my family here.”

Fannie took a large, enamel kettle from the bottom drawer of the stove and placed it on the cupboard. “Wouldn’t you like to be with Lester for Thanksgiving?”

Abby handed her mother the container of chicken noodle soup they had made last night. “Of course I would, but Lester and I will be together at Christmas. Soon January will be here and then we’ll be getting married. After that we can spend every holiday with each other—some here and some in Ohio.”

Fannie nodded. As much as she wanted to have her daughter with them for Thanksgiving, she felt bad for Lester. He’d been without Abby for several months and had to postpone his wedding because of the twins being born and Abby staying to help. She was glad he and Abby would finally be together for Christmas.

“If you’re feeling up to being on your own for a few hours, I thought I’d go into Paradise after we serve lunch to Jacob Weaver’s painting crew. I’d like to see how things are going at the quilt shop,” Abby said.

“That’s a fine idea. You work too hard around here, and it will give you a chance to see which of the quilts you might want to take home to Berlin.”

“I’m not sure I should take any of the quilts back with me,”
Abby said as she began setting the table.

“Why not?” Fannie poured the soup into the kettle. “You’ve made a couple of nice ones since you’ve been here, and I would think you’d want to try and sell them in your own shop.”

Abby grabbed a handful of napkins and placed them beside each plate. “I’m sure Deborah has plenty of quilts we can sell, but if it would make you feel better, I’ll take a look at them when I go there after lunch.”

Fannie smiled and turned down the stove burner. The soup was already beginning to simmer, and the pleasant aroma of chicken broth tickled her nose and made her stomach rumble.

“I’m going to miss you,” Abby said, coming to stand beside her mother.

“I’ll miss you, too. Fact is, I’m sure the whole family will.”

“Everyone’s been so kind and helpful. I can’t get over the way Matthew has been willing to help at the quilt shop now that Naomi’s working at the store again.” Abby moved back to the table. “He’s been like a big brother to me, and it means a lot.”

Fannie sighed. “Matthew’s a fine man. I wish he’d find a nice wife and settle down.”

“I invited my friend Rachel to come here for a visit, but she hasn’t been able to get away,” Abby said. “I’d planned to introduce her to Matthew and hoped they might hit it off.”

“Maybe when we come to Ohio in January for your wedding, they’ll have a chance to meet.”

Abby moved to the cupboard and took a loaf of bread from the breadbox. “You don’t think Matthew’s afraid of getting married, do you?”

Fannie chuckled. “I doubt that. He probably hasn’t found the right woman yet.”

Abby nodded. “Guess I’ll have to pray that the Lord sends my stepbrother just the woman he needs.”

When Abby arrived at the general store later that afternoon, she found it full of customers. Caleb was waiting on an Amish man buying a new shovel, and Naomi was kneeling in front of a
shelf, restocking it with rubber stamps.

“Looks like business is booming,” Abby whispered as she wandered over to Naomi. “I’ll bet Caleb’s glad you’re back at work again.”

Naomi nodded. “Jah, things have been busy today, both here at the store and in your mamm’s quilt shop. I’m glad Matthew is able to help out.”

Abby glanced around. “Where are your girls? Did you leave them at home with Caleb’s mamm?”

“They’re in the back room sound asleep.”

“I wonder if Mom will be able to work in her quilt shop soon and bring the twins along,” Abby said. “She suggested I return to Ohio, saying she could manage on her own, but I think she only meant at home.”

Naomi nodded toward the adjoining room. “I believe Matthew’s got things well under control in the quilt shop. Now that I’m not needing Nancy’s help so much at home maybe she can help him there.”

“That makes sense. If Nancy were to come to the store every day, she could help Matthew and would be available to watch your kinner whenever it’s needed.”

“That’s what I thought.” Naomi smiled. “Are you here for anything in particular today?”

“Just came by to see how things are going, and Mom suggested I look over some of the quilts I’ve made and decide if I want to take any home with me next week.”

“I can’t believe you’re actually leaving.” Naomi stood and gave Abby a hug. “I’m going to miss you, sister.”

Abby fought the urge to cry, but she refused to give in to her threatening tears. She would be going home to Lester soon, and that was something to be happy about.

“I’ll miss everyone,” Abby said. “But it won’t be long before you’ll be coming to Ohio for my wedding.”

“Jah. January’s not far off at all, and we’re looking forward to the big day.”

“Guess I’d best go see about those quilts.” A few seconds later, Abby entered the shop and was surprised to see that
Matthew had hung several more of his quilt hangers on the wall opposite the door. A few English women were shopping in the store, and since Matthew was busy waiting on a customer, she decided not to bother him.

Matthew must have seen her come into the room, for he gave her a friendly wave. Abby smiled and headed over to the box where she’d put some of the quilts she had made. She was about to open it when Naomi called out to her.

“Abby, Caleb just answered the phone, and it’s someone from Ohio. They asked if you were here and said they needed to talk to you.”

Anxious to speak with anyone from home, Abby hurried from the room. She slipped behind the counter and took the phone from Caleb. “Hello. This is Abby Miller.”

Her forehead wrinkled as she tried to make sense out of the jumbled words on the other end of the line. “Deborah, is that you? I can barely hear what you’re saying. Can you speak a little louder, please? What was that?”

There was a long pause, and Deborah’s high-pitched voice came on the line again.

Abby’s mind reeled as she tried to digest everything that was being said. She wished Deborah would slow down. She wished. . .

“A fire! At the quilt shop? Wh–what did you say?” Abby gripped the edge of the counter as the room began to spin.

A
bby, Abby. Wake up!”

“Is she okay?

“She hit her head.”

“It’s bleeding.”

“Better get a clean towel.”

“Maybe we should call 9-1-1. She might have a concussion.”