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Authors: Wanda E. Brunstetter

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BOOK: The Quilter's Daughter
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“I’m not saying that at all. I just think it’s easier to see other
people’s faults than we do our own.”

Jim let Ed’s words roll around in his head as he wondered if his own actions were really so bad. He tried to be honest and aboveboard in his business dealings. He was fair with his crew and paid each one what they were worth. He was a decent husband and father, even if Linda didn’t think so. He didn’t need church or some holier-than-thou preacher pointing out his sins.

Of course, I have told a lot of lies over the last few years, and if I went to church or started counseling with the preacher, sooner or later he might drag the truth out of me about Jimmy’s phony adoption.

Jim grimaced. He knew it had been wrong to kidnap Jimmy, but he’d convinced himself it was an act of love—done in Linda’s best interest. And look how she was thanking him for it!

“Going to church would only make things worse,” he muttered.

“What’s that, Boss?”

“Nothing, Ed. I’ll be fine once we quit work for the day and I can stop somewhere for a couple of beers.”

A knock at the front door drew Abby’s attention away from the quilt she was working on. The twins were asleep in their cradles on the other side of the living room, and Mom was upstairs taking a nap. Abby had decided to use this quiet time to get some quilting done.

When Abby opened the door she was surprised to see nine-year-old Leona Weaver on the front porch. There was something unique about the young girl, and it was more than her luminous green eyes and matching dimples placed evenly on both cheeks. Leona had a quality about her—sweet, even-tempered, and spiritually mature for one so young. The child probably got it from her father, whom Abraham had said was not only a good friend, but was full of wisdom and godly counsel.

“What brings you over here on this Saturday afternoon?” Abby asked the child. “Do your folks know you’re here?”

“Papa’s out there, talking with Abraham about doin’ some
painting on his barn.” Leona pointed across the yard.

Abby squinted against the glare of the afternoon sun. Sure enough, there was Jacob Weaver’s buggy parked next to the barn.

“I thought I’d have a look at the twins, if ya don’t mind,” Leona announced.

Abby opened the door fully and bid the girl to enter. “They’re asleep in their cradles, but if we’re quiet, they’ll probably keep on sleeping.”

“My little cousin Amos could sleep through most anything when he was a boppli,” Leona said.

“Jah, most bopplin do, but for some reason the twins seem to be light sleepers.”

Abby led Leona across the living room and stopped in front of the cradles. One twin had kicked his covering off, so she pulled it up under his chin. The days were getting colder now, and it wouldn’t do for the babe to take a chill.

“They’re so
schee
,” Leona murmured.

“They are quite pretty,” Abby agreed.

“I can’t wait ’til I’m grown up and can get married and have some bopplin of my own.” The child grinned, and her dimples seemed to be winking at Abby.

Abby thought about her upcoming wedding and how she’d felt compelled to postpone it in order to stay in Pennsylvania so she could care for Mom and the twins. Lester hadn’t been happy about moving the wedding date to January, but after a few letters of encouragement, he’d finally agreed.

Abby motioned to the sofa. “Would you like to sit and visit until your daed’s done talking to Abraham?”

Leona nodded and followed Abby across the room. They sat next to each other on the sofa, and Abby picked up her quilting squares again.

“Titus and Timothy look so much alike,” Leona said. “How do you ever tell ’em apart?”

Abby chuckled. “That has been kind of tricky. I thought I had the problem solved when I tied a blue ribbon around Titus’s ankle. That worked fine until I bathed him once and forgot to remove the ribbon.”

“What happened?”

“The ribbon became soggy and fell off. By the time I got the boppli dried and dressed again, a ruckus broke out in the yard between Samuel’s dog and Mary Ann’s cat. So I placed Titus back in his cradle and went outside to see about it.”

Leona covered her mouth with the palm of her hand and giggled. “Don’t tell me—when you came back inside, you thought Titus was Timothy. Am I right?”

Abby nodded. “That’s exactly what happened, only this time I figured it out before I gave the same baby a bath.”

“You mean that’s happened before?”

Abby told Leona the story about her bathing the same baby twice and how this time, she’d discovered Timothy’s dirty diaper right away and realized it was he and not Titus. “It’s been a job for Mom and me to keep the boys straight, but Abraham thinks we’re silly.”

Leona’s eyebrows lifted. “Why’s that?”

“He says Titus has one eye slightly larger than Timothy’s, so he always seems to know which twin he’s holding.” Abby shrugged. “I’ve never noticed much of a difference in the shape of their eyes, but I wish there were something I could do to identify one from the other without it washing off in the bath water.”

Leona smiled. “I know what you could do.”

“What’s that?”

“Why not take some waterproof paint and make a dot on one twin’s toe? Since Papa’s a painter, he uses paint to mark lots of things.”

Abby reached for the child’s hand. “Leona Weaver, you’re one smart girl. I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t grow up to be a schoolteacher someday.”

Leona’s eyes brightened. “You really think so?”

“Might could be. None of us knows what the future holds.”

“The weather’s been dry, so I think my paint crew can start workin’ here sometime next week,” Jacob Weaver said as he studied Abraham’s barn.

“Sounds good to me,” Abraham replied. “It’s been too many years since the barn’s had a new coat of paint, and as you can see, it’s peelin’ and chippin’ all over the place. I should have had you do it much sooner, but I kept puttin’ it off.”

Jacob stroked his long, full beard, which was beginning to show a few signs of gray. “What color are you thinkin’? Want it to be white again?”

Abraham nodded.

“White it is then.” Jacob lowered himself to a bale of straw sitting in front of the barn. “Mind if I sit a spell? We haven’t had ourselves a little chat in some time.”

“You’re right about that,” Abraham agreed, and he also took a seat. “Between me and the older boys tryin’ to get the harvest done, and you and your son havin’ so many paint jobs, we rarely see each other except on preaching Sundays.”

“I imagine you’re kept busy with those zwilling of yours, too,” Jacob commented.

Abraham grinned. Just thinking about his identical twin boys brought a smile to his face. “The truth is, Abby and Fannie do most of the work. I mostly get to hold and cuddle my sons, but that’s fine by me.”

“Sure is a miracle the way God gave you those boys.”

“Jah. It’s like He took one son and gave me two.”

Jacob frowned, and his bushy eyebrows drew together. “I wouldn’t say God took Zach away, my friend. It’s more likely He allowed free will to be done.”

“That’s what I meant to say.” Abraham decided it was time for a change of subject. Otherwise, Jacob would end up giving him a full-fledged sermon. “When you first showed up, I saw your daughter go into the house. I’ll bet she wanted to see Titus and Timothy.”

“Leona loves bopplin and is real good with ’em. She’ll make a fine mamm someday, I expect.”

“She sure has a good-natured disposition. Kind of reminds me of Abby, who’s always so agreeable.”

Jacob gave his earlobe a couple of pulls. “I’ve never told ya this before, but I used to hope my Leona and your Zach would
end up marrying each other some day.”

Abraham stiffened. Jacob’s comment was a painful reminder that he had not only been cheated out of seeing his son grow up, but would never know if Zach got married or to whom.

“Even if my boy hadn’t been snatched away, it ain’t likely our two would have ever gotten married,” he mumbled.

“Why not?”

“Leona’s almost three years older than Zach.”


Humph
! Who worries about a little thing like that?” Jacob stood and arched his back. “I hear tell our bishop’s five years younger than his second wife.”

“Really? Didn’t know that.” Abraham shrugged as he also stood.

Jacob yawned. “Guess I should round up my daughter and get on home. I’ve got some paintin’ of my own that the wife’s been after me to do for some time.”

Abraham chortled. “Isn’t that the way? Seems like the last thing on our list of things to get done is usually at the top of the list our wives are keepin’.”

“That’s how it goes once a body’s been married awhile.” Jacob patted Abraham on the back. “Before I go, mind if I take a look at those growin’ boys of yours?”

Abraham clasped his friend’s arm as they began walking toward the house. “Don’t mind at all. Fact is, I’d be pleased to show ’em to you.”

Jacob halted, and Abraham almost ran into him. “Oh, I nearly forgot. I stopped by the general store yesterday afternoon and spoke with Caleb.”

“How are things going there? Are he and Matthew managing okay?”

Jacob’s expression turned serious, and for a moment Abraham was afraid he was about to receive news that his old business was failing.

“Caleb’s concerned for Naomi and asked me to pray about things.”

“What’s wrong with Naomi? Is she sick?”

Jacob shook his head. “She’s not sick, just seems kind of
depressed.” He paused and slid his tongue across his top teeth. “I hesitate to say anything, but I think you have the right to know.”

“Know what? If there’s somethin’ you’re not tellin’ me, then please do so.”

“Well, Caleb thinks Naomi’s hurt because you show the zwilling so much attention.”

Abraham’s mouth fell open. “What? They’re my twin boys. Why wouldn’t I give ’em lots of attention?”

Jacob cleared his throat a couple of times. “It’s fine to love on your little ones, Abraham, but Naomi’s concerned you may have forgotten about Zach and believes the twins have replaced him in your heart.”

Abraham clapped his hands together. “That’s
lecherich
! I’ll never forget Zach.”

“It may seem ridiculous to you, but Naomi’s hurtin’ just the same. I think she feels you haven’t shown her daughters much attention, either.”

Abraham felt a sense of irritation well up in his soul, but as he mulled things over, he realized he might have been remiss in showing enough love to his granddaughters. He supposed he could have said or done a few things to make Naomi think he cared more about Titus and Timothy than he did Zach, too.

“I’ll drop by Naomi’s place soon,” he promised. “There were enough hard feelings between us after Zach was kidnapped, and I don’t want anything gettin’ in the way of our relationship now.”

N
aomi had just started supper when she heard a knock on the back door. She glanced at the wall clock above the refrigerator. Caleb wasn’t due home from the store for another hour. Besides, he wouldn’t be knocking on his own door.

She turned down the burner on the propane stove and went to the door. When she opened it, she was surprised to see her father standing on the porch. Since Nancy hadn’t come over today, he obviously wasn’t here to pick her up.

BOOK: The Quilter's Daughter
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