A Wild Goose Chase Christmas: Quilts of Love Series (11 page)

“Historically, it’s of great importance,” Max said.

“Historically, huh?” Brandon picked up something from the end table beside him. “According to these, the quilt …” he scanned the pages, then read from one, “holds the key to a great treasure.”

Max’s heart sank. He was certain Mrs. Randolph had been speaking of a metaphorical treasure, but there’d be no way to convince Brandon of that. He’d seen this kind of power struggle before when one family member wanted to donate an item to the museum over the objections of others. Even though Izzy was the owner of the quilt, her family could put up enough a fuss to keep it out of his hands for a good long time.

Still holding Bogie in one arm, Izzy snatched the letters from her brother with her free hand. “You had no right to read these. They’re private from Gran to me.”

“A lot of stuff went from Gran to you.”

That statement explained a lot. Izzy’s brother was jealous. From the scowl on her mother’s face, Max was certain she shared the feeling.

“This is ridiculous.” Izzy started to put the dog down but stopped and motioned to Max. “Would you please take care of the quilt?”

Brandon took a step toward Max. “Wait a minute. What does your boyfriend have to do with it?”

Color bled across Izzy’s cheeks. “He’s not my boyfriend. Max is the director of the California Pioneer Museum. He wants to feature the quilt in an exhibit.”

Max held his breath.
Don’t tell him about the loan.

“And I’m going to let him.”

Max groaned. Janice mumbled something under her breath. Brandon laughed outright. “No way. The quilt is a
family
heirloom. It doesn’t go anywhere unless the family agrees.”

“You have no control over this, Brandon. It’s my decision to make, and I’ve made it.”

Max admired her gumption. He also knew she wasn’t going to win the fight tonight. The best thing to do now was to let everyone retreat to their own corners and cool down.

“Izzy.” He kept his voice low and firm, letting her know he required her attention. “I need help to refold the quilt without damaging it.”

She looked at him, lower lip clamped between her teeth. Though she struggled to control her emotions, this time there were no tears in sight. This time it looked like she was fighting to keep from hitting somebody.

“Let’s take it in my room. That way, we can have some
privacy
.”

As carefully as possible, he gathered the quilt in his arms and followed her down the hall. As he laid the bundle on her bed, the absurdity of the situation hit him. In the last twenty minutes, he’d almost kissed her and now he was alone with her in her bedroom. It was a first, no doubt about it.

Not that romance was on either of their minds at the moment. If the set of her jaw and the blue electricity snapping in her eyes was any indication, she was ready to go to war. Max was glad that, for the time being, they were fighting on the same side.

“I can’t believe they would do something like that.” Izzy paced back and forth across the short length of her room, berating herself for what had just happened. In all actuality, she should have expected it. She’d thought if she avoided Brandon’s questions at the hospital, he’d forget about the mysterious valuable object. But when Brandon smelled money, he was tenacious. In the absence of her answers, he’d decided to find his own.

“Izzy.”

The warm rumble of Max’s voice stopped her. In her agitation, she’d nearly forgotten he was there. He leaned against her dresser, arms crossed over his chest, brows furrowed, discomfort etched across his face.

“I’m sorry.” She ground the heel of her hand into her forehead as she looked at the quilt lying on her bed. “This truly is the only room in the house we could go to and get away from them. I hope you don’t think—”

“Stop.” His face softened and he pushed away from the dresser. “The only thing I’m thinking is that we’ve still got
a mystery to solve and a quilt to examine. As far as I’m concerned, we’re working in your office. Nothing more.”

Izzy sighed. Her office. Looking at it that way made sense. “OK. So what should we do first?”

“First we make sure the quilt isn’t damaged. Some of the material is so worn and thin that it could tear from the weight if one person held it up. We need to make sure your brother didn’t do that. And we need to see if any of the pieces are missing.”

He took something out of his front jacket pocket and tossed it to Izzy. It was a pair of white cotton gloves. “Don’t tell me your mother taught you to carry these around, too?”

Max laughed. “No. I grabbed them before we left the museum. It’s better for the quilt if we don’t touch it too much with our bare hands. The gloves protect it from dirt and the natural oils in our skin.”

Izzy was pretty sure the quilt had been touched by bare hands for at least a hundred years before this and it hadn’t destroyed the fabric. Still, Max was the expert, so she slipped on the gloves.

Carefully, they spread the quilt out on the bed, Izzy on one side and Max on the other. Max was all business, checking each section, running his glove-covered fingertips gently across the stitching. Squatting on the balls of his feet, he examined the dark blue fabric binding the edges. “Fascinating.”

“What is?”

“The binding is the same fabric as the back of the quilt.” He carefully pulled up a corner and draped it across the top of the quilt so both the top and the underside showed.

Izzy leaned in closer. “It looks like the back was made from one large piece of fabric.”

“It was. From the looks of it, I’d guess it was a horse blanket.”

“A horse blanket?”

Max nodded. “Years ago, people were much more resourceful than we are now. They found all kinds of ways to reuse and repurpose things.”

What would her mother and brother think if she told them their family heirloom was half horse blanket? Would that be enough to convince them they were looking in the wrong place for a cash payout? Highly unlikely.

Izzy continued looking over the quilt. Though the triangles, which had to represent geese, chased one another in rows along the edges, they angled and turned the closer in they got. The pattern morphed into a jagged vortex coming to a halt in the middle of the quilt where two triangles met at their bases. The result was a faded red diamond marking the end of the journey. Or was it the beginning?

Max rose to his feet. “It’s a minor miracle, but I don’t think Brandon caused any new damage. And I don’t see any place where the blocks are missing.”

“Neither did I. But this is a little strange.” She pushed down gently on the red diamond. “These two pieces look newer than the ones around them. And it feels a little lumpy.”

“Hmm.” Max folded his tall frame over the bed without putting any weight on the quilt. “It’s not as strange as you’d think. Most likely, this was the first section to be worked on. As the quilt was handed down from woman to woman, the pattern emerged from the middle out. Over the course of twenty or so years, the original piece could have been showing wear before the quilt was ready for day-to-day use. It makes sense that this piece would have been replaced.”

“Twenty years? It might have taken that long to make this quilt?”

“Or longer. Quilting was never a speedy undertaking.”

“I can’t imagine working on something for so long.”

Max’s eyes grew somber, his face clouding over. “Most people can’t.”

Although he stared at the quilt, Izzy was certain something else was on Max’s mind. Whatever it was, he was far away from this little room in Monrovia.

“Max? Are you OK?”

He shook his head and forced a smile. “Me? Sure. I was just thinking we should find a safe place for the Wild Goose Chase.”

“Why don’t you take it with you?”

Max began folding the quilt, turning it over on itself so the colorful pattern on top was completely hidden. “I’d love to take it, but I can’t. Not tonight.”

“Why not? You’ll take better care of it than anybody else.”

“Your family’s already upset. If I walk out with this quilt, they’ll go crazy. You need to settle things with them before I can take it.”

“I guess you’re right.” Izzy grabbed the empty box from where Brandon had tossed it on the floor and handed it to Max. “Here. This is what it was in when Gran gave it to me.”

He looked inside the shallow container, then turned it over. Izzy laughed. “You won’t find any clues in there.”

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” he said with a shrug. He packed the quilt carefully in the box, then looked around the room. “Where can we put this so the treasure hunter can’t get his hands on it again?”

His assessment of her brother drew a grin from Izzy. He had Brandon pegged. “In my closet. There’s a lock on the door, although I have no idea why. It’s been like that as long as I can remember.”

She opened the door to a closet that was miniscule compared to contemporary, walk-in standards. Turning, she nearly
ran smack into Max. She took a step sideways and pointed to the top shelf. “Up there would be good.”

Once the box was safely stowed away, Izzy fished the key out of a dresser drawer and locked the door. “I never thought I’d lock this door. Glad I didn’t throw the key away.”

Max stood in the middle of the room, hands in pockets. “I should be going.”

Izzy nodded.

“When can I see you again?”

She had no idea how to answer. Exactly what was he getting at?

“We still have a lot to talk about,” he continued, answering her unasked question. “What the notes your grandmother sent you mean, the reason for the pieces of cloth, where the documentation might be …”

“We do have a lot to talk about.”

“And it’s probably best not to do it in your … office.”

A blush heated Izzy’s cheeks. If Gran meant to throw her and Max together, she was probably looking down from heaven right now with a grin plastered on her face.

“Good point. I’m off from school this week but I’ve got to take care of Mom. Can you come here? We could talk on the porch.”

“I’ll stop by after work tomorrow. Around six?”

“Great.” Izzy opened the door to her room, motioning for him to follow. “Come on. I’ll walk you through the gauntlet.”

Janice and Brandon were unexpectedly silent as Max and Izzy walked through the room. Before leaving, Max stopped and addressed them.

“I’m sorry if my visit caused any friction. Have a good evening.”

Janice frowned. Brandon raised his hand in a halfhearted farewell. Izzy opened the door for Max, wishing she could
follow him out and not have to face the awaiting family summit. She closed the door firmly behind him, then whirled on her brother.

“Brandon, you have a lot of explaining to do.”

“Me? Mom was in on it too.”

His innocent act was almost laughable. Only Izzy was too angry to laugh.

“She has an excuse. She’s on painkillers. But you should be thinking straight. What made you think you could go through my things? Or that you have any right to claim what’s mine?”

“I already told you. Gran left you everything, but Mom and I deserve our share. It was clear you weren’t about to let us in on it, so I had to take matters into my own hands.”

Izzy liked to consider herself a fairly levelheaded, rational person. Right now, she had the irrational desire to toss a glass of water in Brandon’s face. Good thing there wasn’t one in grabbing range. “You think you deserve your share?”

His stance transmitted righteous indignation.

“You really are something,” Izzy muttered. “Have you ever stopped to wonder why Gran gave me so many of her things?”

Janice motioned from her place on the couch. “Because you were her favorite.”

Normally, Izzy would contradict her mother, denying that Gran played favorites. But after what happened today, she didn’t bother with it. “No. It’s because she knew me. She knew I loved the things she loved. And she knew you would only look at the monetary value of whatever she left behind.”

They looked at her like she was crazy, and Izzy knew it didn’t matter what she said tonight. She could ask them where they’d been for the last three years, while she was living with Gran. She could remind them that even though they all lived within twenty miles of one another, the two of them only made time to see Gran on holidays or if they needed something. But
none of it would do any good. Mom and Brandon were sure they had been wronged, which, in their minds, certainly put their actions in the right.

She spoke to her brother. “Go home.”

“We’re not done here.”

“Yes, we are. For now, we’re done. We’ll talk about it later.” The later the better.

“Fine.” Brandon leaned over and kissed his mother’s forehead. “Take it easy, Mom. Don’t try to do too much too soon.”

Her droopy eyes opened a bit wider. “Are you leaving?”

“I have to go home.”

“When will you be here tomorrow?”

Brandon looked over his shoulder at Izzy, silently imploring her to step in. Sure, now he wanted her help.

She shook her head.
You’re on your own, buddy
.

He glared at Izzy, then turned back to Janice. “I don’t think I can get here tomorrow, Mom. I’ve got a lot of stuff going on at work.”