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Authors: Wanda E. Brunstetter

The Quilter's Daughter (35 page)

BOOK: The Quilter's Daughter
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“That’s true. It happened two winters ago, when the vehicle they were riding in skidded on a patch of ice. The English driver’s car smashed into a truck traveling in the opposite direction, and only the truck driver survived the crash.”

Abby shook her head. “How awful for you. I can’t imagine how it would feel to lose two loved ones at the same time.”

“It was difficult, and it took me a good while to get over the hurt and to stop askin’ God why He’d taken my husband and boy.” Elizabeth’s dark eyes filled with tears, and Abby’s did as well. “But life goes on, and I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content.” She smiled. “That’s found in the book of Philippians, chapter 4, verse 11.”

Abby nodded.

“God allowed the accident that took my husband and son, and it’s not for me to question why or spend the rest of my days grievin’ over what can’t be changed. I have chosen to get on
with the business of living and have found a purpose for my life again.”

Abby leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table and her chin cupped in the palm of her hands. Elizabeth’s calm voice was like a strong rope tying Abby fast when she had no strength left to hold on. “What purpose have you found?” she asked.

Elizabeth pushed her chair away from the table. “I can best show you that.” She scurried from the room and returned a few minutes later carrying a cardboard box, which she placed on one end of the table.

Curious to know what was inside, Abby left her chair and came to stand beside Elizabeth. “What have you got in there?”

Elizabeth lifted the flaps on the box and withdrew a partially made Log Cabin quilt in hues of beige and brown. Abby’s heart clenched. How could she ever get over the pain of losing Lester when there seemed to be quilts everywhere, reminding her of the loss she had endured?

“I don’t claim to be the best quilter in the world,” Elizabeth said, “but I like the work, it keeps my hands busy, and I’ve found a good reason to do it.”

Abby tipped her head. “Oh? What’s that?”

“As I’m sure Edna has told you, our community has an annual auction in June.”

Abby nodded.

“One of the biggest things we auction off is the quilts. In fact, we receive many quilts from women in other Amish communities, as well. Ten percent of the proceeds go to help support our school.” Elizabeth pursed her lips. “If my son had lived, he would have gone to our one-room schoolhouse for his learnin’. I find great pleasure in knowing the quilts I have worked on all winter help support our school so other Amish kinner can learn to read, write, and do sums.” She paused as her fingers traced the edge of the quilt. “Up until this year, I was teaching at the schoolhouse regularly, but after a bad bout with the flu, Myra Lehman took over. So after I got better, I decided to let her finish out the school year.”

“Looks like you still keep busy, though,” Abby said, nodding at the quilt.

“Jah.”

Abby glanced at the cardboard box and spotted another quilt inside with the Tumbling Block pattern, done in various shades of blue. “Are you working on more than one right now?”

“I can’t take credit for this one,” Elizabeth said. “I found it in a thrift shop in Tacoma, Washington, while I was on vacation with a couple single ladies in our community.” She smiled. “We went there to see Mount Rainer and what’s left of Mount St. Helens.”

Abby noticed right away that the quilt was small, probably made for a baby, and she felt a sharp prick of emptiness as she studied it. Reaching out to touch the covering, her eyes filled with unwanted tears.
Lester is gone and so are my plans to be married. I will never have any bopplin, so there will be no need for me to make a quilt such as this. Elizabeth might have been able to set her pain aside and find meaning in life, but I don’t see how that could ever happen for me
.

C
ome in, come in. You look exhausted,” Fannie said as she opened the back door for Edna.

“Jah, just a bit.” Edna removed her black shawl and draped it over the back of a chair. “Things have been pretty hectic at our place this past week.”

“I can only imagine.” Fannie nodded toward the kitchen table. “Have a seat and tell me how your granddaughters are doing.”

“Much better now. Gretchen is over the flu, and the girls aren’t feeling nearly as sick.”

Knowing her cousin’s taste for mint tea, Fannie poured them both a cup and handed one to Edna. “Does that mean they don’t need your help now?”

Edna took a sip of tea before answering. “I still plan to check in from time to time and see if there’s anything Gretchen needs me to do. But for the most part, I’m back in my own cozy little home, makin’ head coverings and workin’ on other things for people who don’t have the time to sew.”

Fannie added a dollop of cream to her tea, picked up her spoon, and gave it a couple of stirs. “Are you wishing you could have stayed in Montana longer?”

“Not really. I think it’s best that Abby spends time with Elizabeth alone, and I didn’t even have to come up with a reason to leave early. God worked everything out, and I’m sure if anyone can get through to your daughter, it’s my dear sister-in-law.”

“I pray that’s so, and I hope it happens soon.” Fannie sniffed. “Even though I often felt that Abby was taking over too many of
my responsibilities, I do miss her and wish she were home with us right now.”

“You missin’ her company or all the help she gave you?” Edna asked with a wink.

Fannie chuckled. “A little of both. I’ve been praying every day, asking the Lord to heal Abby’s heart and send her home with a joy for living.”

“I’m sure she’ll return when she feels ready, and I know the Lord wants only the best for Abby.”

Fannie opened her mouth to reply, but the piercing wail of a baby’s cry halted her words. She sighed. “Guess one of the boys is awake and wantin’ to be fed. He probably needs to be diapered, too.” She pushed her chair aside and stood. “I’d better tend to him before he gets the other brother howlin’ like crazy.”

“Want me to come along? I can change one babe’s windel while you nurse the other.”

“Jah, sure. That would be appreciated. We can visit while Titus and Timothy take turns eating.”

“Sounds good to me.” Edna rose from her seat. “I never seem to get in enough visiting, Cousin.”

As Abby headed down the lane toward the mailbox, she reflected on the church service she’d gone to yesterday with Elizabeth. It was much the same as the ones she attended in Ohio and Pennsylvania, but there were fewer people, since this was a smaller community of Amish. The house where they met was much different, too, being made of logs and set among so many trees. The people had been friendly during the light meal afterwards, and Abby had been pleased to spend a little time visiting with Myra Lehman, who reminded her a bit of Rachel.

I wonder how my dear friend from Ohio is doing these days
, Abby mused.
I haven’t heard from her in some time. Of course, I haven’t been good about keeping in contact, either. Truth is, I haven’t been much of a friend to anyone since Lester died
.

Abby thoughts returned to yesterday’s church service, and a verse of scripture one of the ministers had quoted popped into
her head, from Isaiah, chapter 43, verse 2.
“When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee.”
Abby grimaced.
I feel as though I’ve been through the fire, but I’ve been burned so badly my wounds will never heal
.

Sometimes, when Abby was alone in her room at night, she would close her eyes and try to imagine what it must have been like for Lester during the last moments of his life. In her mind’s eye she would put herself in the scene, hugging him and being consumed by the flames together. The thought of dying in the arms of the man she loved seemed more pleasant than living a life without him.

“Lester should not have died alone,” she moaned. “He shouldn’t have perished on account of me.”

Abby’s thoughts went to the colorful quilt Elizabeth said she had purchased at a thrift shop in the state of Washington.
A year ago I thought I’d be making plenty of baby quilts in the days ahead. Some would be for Lester and my kinner, and others would be given to family members who were blessed with children
. She drew in a deep breath, determined to focus on something else. As she neared the mailbox, she heard the flutter of birds in the trees nearby and caught sight of a clump of yellow crocus. Spring was almost here, and this used to be her favorite time of year. Since Lester died, no time was her favorite. In fact, she barely noticed the changing seasons at all.

She pulled the mailbox flap open.
I will not give in to tears. Crying won’t change a thing, and neither will dwelling on the past
. She thumbed quickly through the stack of mail and noticed a letter from her mother.

Abby leaned against a tree and tore open the letter. She missed Mom, her little brothers, and all of Abraham’s family. Even so, she wasn’t ready to return to Pennsylvania just yet.

Focusing on the letter in her hand, Abby read it silently.

Dear Abby
,

I hope this finds you well and enjoying your visit with
Elizabeth. Edna made it safely home and said she wasn’t the least bit afraid. Can you imagine my outgoing, silly cousin afraid of anything? It wonders me that she doesn’t travel all over the place, the way some folks do when their family is grown
.

She’s been busy caring for her granddaughters who have the chicken pox and her daughter who is down with the flu, and I think she enjoys being needed
.

I’m sorry to say that Bishop Swartley passed away a few weeks ago, so there’s been another funeral in our community. You’ll never believe who the lot fell on to take his place—Jacob Weaver. Abraham’s been sayin’ for years that he thought Jacob would make a good bishop, and now it’s actually happened. Jacob seems fine with the idea, but I’m not sure how his wife and kinner are taking all of this. Guess it will be quite an adjustment for everyone in the family
.

Mary Ann and I dropped by the store the other day. (Jah, Abraham kept the boys by himself for a few hours.) When I was there, Naomi mentioned the auction that would be held in the Rexford Amish community in June. I’m not sure if you’ll still be there by then, but even if you’re not, I thought it would be good if I sent some quilts to auction off. If you’d like, I could box up the ones Lester rescued from your quilt shop in Berlin and send those, too
.

Tears welled up in Abby’s eyes and distorted her vision. Would it help to get rid of those quilts? Maybe putting them up for auction was a good idea. It would be like burying her past once and for all. She swiped a hand across her damp cheeks and sniffed. “Guess I’ll head back to the house and answer Mom’s letter.”

“Do you really think we should be leaving so soon after your father’s surgery?” Linda asked Jim as they drove away from Millersburg in their rental car.

“We’ve been here a week, Linda, and you heard what the doctor said. Dad’s recovering nicely.”

“I know, but—”

BOOK: The Quilter's Daughter
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