The Quilter's Daughter (38 page)

Linda walked slowly down the hospital corridor, feeling as though a hive of bees had taken up residence in her stomach. She’d discovered a breast lump last week and had gone to the doctor for a thorough exam. This morning she’d received a mammogram in the hospital’s diagnostic lab. Depending on the results, she might be faced with a biopsy.
Oh, Lord
, she prayed,
please don’t let this be cancer
.

Linda thought about Jimmy and how much he needed her. He’d turned seven two months ago and wasn’t ready to be without his mother. She thought about Jim and how it might affect their marriage if the lump was cancerous. He had so little patience with her anymore, especially when she was sick or emotionally wrought. Would he want to be saddled with a wife who had serious health problems?
And what if I were to die before Jim finds the Lord as his Savior? I want our son to grow up knowing Jesus, and if Jim remains set against religion, he probably won’t see that Jimmy goes to church or receives any religious training
.

Linda drew in a deep breath and tried to relax. She knew she was worrying about things that hadn’t even happened yet.
Please calm my heart, Lord, and if this does turn out to be cancer, then all of us will need Your help in the days ahead
.

“You’re lookin’ awful tired these days,” Fannie said, when she discovered Naomi bent over an empty shelf in the store, swishing a dust rag back and forth.

Naomi looked up and wiped the perspiration from her forehead. “I do seem to tire more easily with this pregnancy than I did with my other two. Guess it’s because I have a lot more to do now than I did before.”

Fannie gave Naomi a hug. She had come to care deeply for the young woman and hated to see her working so hard when she obviously didn’t feel well. “Why don’t you bring the girls over to our place each morning on your way to work? That way you won’t have so much responsibility here at the store.”

Naomi smiled but shook her head. “I couldn’t ask you to watch my kinner. You’ve got your hands full takin’ care of your own two active boys.”

“They can be a handful at times,” Fannie admitted. “As I’m sure you know, Nancy’s still working as a maad for Anna Beechy, who’s been feelin’ poorly for some time. Even though I can’t count on Nancy’s help much these days, now that Mary Ann’s out of school for the summer, she’s home most of the time. That young girl has been a big help to me lately, and I’m sure she wouldn’t mind helpin’ care for your girls.”

“You really think so?” Naomi straightened and reached around to rub her lower back.

“I do. Besides, Sarah and Susan would be good company for Timothy and Titus.” Fannie chuckled. “Might keep ’em occupied so Mary Ann and I could get more chores done around the house. I may even find more time for quilting.”

“Did you leave the twins with Mary Ann this afternoon?”

Fannie nodded. “Jah, they were both sleeping soundly when I decided to come to town, so I figured she’d have no problem with ’em while I was gone.”

“It’s good for you to get away once in a while.”

“It does feel kind of nice.” Fannie shifted from one foot to the
other. “What do you think about my offer to watch the girls?”

“I’ll speak with Caleb about it as soon as he gets back from his dental appointment,” Naomi said. “If he has no objections, maybe we could bring the girls by on Monday of next week and see how it goes.”

Fannie smiled. “Sounds good.”

“Did you come by for anything in particular?” Naomi asked. “Or did you stop to check on the quilt shop?”

“Both. I need some sewing notions, but I wanted to see how many quilts are in stock right now. If we’re running low, I might have to ask a few more women to do some quilting for us.” Fannie nodded toward her shop. “Now that it’s summer, things can get busy when the tourists start comin’ in.”

“That’s true, even here in the store.” Naomi headed to the quilt shop, and Fannie followed. “Have you heard anything more from Abby?”

“I got another letter from her last week, and she mentioned that the auction will be held this Saturday. I’m guessin’ my daughter’s been helping the women in the community get the food ready that they plan to sell that day.”

“From what Abby said in her last letter to me, it sounded like they’ll have to feed at least a thousand people.”

Fannie nodded. “I’m hopin’ once Abby sees our quilts auctioned off, she’ll be ready to come home. I miss her something awful.”

“I’m sure you do. I’ll be glad when Abby’s back in Pennsylvania, too.”

Fannie let her hand travel over a stack of queen-sized quilts. “I’m beginning to wonder if I should just sell the quilt shop and be done with it.”

Naomi frowned. “Why would you want to do that? I thought you loved quilting?”

“I do enjoy making quilts, but I have no desire to drag the boys into town every day and try to run this place by myself.”

“We need to keep praying about the matter,” Naomi said. “I’d hate to see the quilt shop close.”

Fannie shrugged. “If Abby returns and still refuses to work here, then I’ll probably be forced to sell.”

Linda glanced at Beth, who sat behind the wheel of her compact car. “Thanks for driving me to my appointment this morning. It was easier to have the biopsy done knowing you were waiting for me in the other room.”

“I was praying, too.” Beth tapped the steering wheel with her fingertips. “I still don’t understand why your husband couldn’t take time off to be with you. Surely he must realize how serious this could be.”

“Jim doesn’t care about anyone but himself,” Linda said, as the bitter taste of bile rose in her throat.
I will not give in to tears. It won’t change a thing
.

“I can see why you’re frustrated, but we need to be patient and let the Lord work in Jim’s life.” Beth’s voice was low and soothing, and in that moment, Linda almost believed her.

“What if this turns out to be cancer?”

“Then you’ll do whatever the doctor suggests.” Beth reached over and squeezed Linda’s hand. “Our whole church will be praying for you.”

“What scares me more than the disease is wondering what will become of Jim and Jimmy if I should die.”

“Let’s trust the Lord and take things one step at a time. The results of the biopsy could be negative, and then you will have been worried for nothing.”

Linda nodded as tears blurred her vision. “I know I should trust God more, but sometimes it’s hard, especially when I don’t get answers to my prayers.”

“God always answers,” Beth said with a note of conviction. “Sometimes it’s yes, sometimes no, and sometimes He says to wait. Regardless of how God answers, we must accept it as His will.”

“I know,” Linda murmured.

“No matter how this turns out,” Beth said with an encouraging smile, “we’ll get through it together. . .you, me, and our heavenly Father.”

A
bby sat on a backless wooden bench inside the quilt barn, observing the auctioneer as he hollered, “The bid’s at three hundred dollars for this Lone Star quilt. Do I hear four hundred?”

In the row ahead, an English woman’s hand shot up as she lifted the piece of cardboard with her bidding number on it.

“Four hundred dollars. Do I hear five?” The bidding went on until the Amish man finally shouted, “Sold at seven hundred dollars!”

Abby was amazed at how many quilts hung inside the tent. What seemed even more astonishing was the amount of people that had crowded into the area to watch the proceedings or bid on a quilt or wall hanging. She recognized the quilt being bid on now and leaned forward. It was one of her mamm’s, and she figured the king-sized covering with various shades of blue would go for a tidy sum. She wasn’t disappointed. It sold for nine hundred dollars. The other quilt her mother had sent was queen-sized, made in the Dahlia pattern with hues of maroon, pink, and white. Soon it was also gone—sold for seven hundred and fifty dollars.

Abby’s spine went rigid when the two young Amish women standing on the raised platform held up one of her quilts—a Double Wedding Ring pattern, with interlocking rings made from two shades of green on a white background.

Tears stung her eyes as she thought about her and Lester’s wedding plans and the quilt she’d been working on before she left Ohio. If she had finished the quilt and they’d gotten married as planned, it would have been covering their bed right now. All
that remained of Abby’s previous life as a quilter were the four double-sized quilts about to be auctioned off.

Her heart clenched when the auctioneer shouted, “Sold for six hundred dollars!”

The Amish women held up the second quilt Abby had made. This one was designed in the Distelfink pattern, which had been a favorite among the English who’d come to her shop in Berlin. In short order, it was sold for five hundred dollars.

Tears trickled down Abby’s face, and a sob worked its way up her throat.
Oh, Lester, I loved you so much. You sacrificed your life to save my quilts, and I gave you nothing in return
.

The third and fourth quilts were then bid on and sold, and Abby swayed as a wave of nausea coursed through her stomach. She’d hoped that seeing her quilts auctioned off would bring release, but it only added to her grief. She stood on trembling legs and pushed her way through the crowd. Outside, she rushed behind the barn where her bicycle was parked. She needed to be alone—to go somewhere and find a quiet place to sit and calm down.

Abby pedaled across the open field, dodging the throng of people shopping at the various booths and weaving in and out of parked cars until she found her way to the main road. She kept the bike moving faster, taking her farther and farther away from the noisy auction and those painful memories of her beautiful quilts.

By the time Abby reached a turnoff for Lake Koocanusa, she was panting for breath. She braked and let her feet drop to the ground, then sat motionless, staring at the vast body of water below while she fought to gain control of her swirling emotions.

A hawk soared overhead, and Abby caught sight of a turkey hen and her chicks stepping out of the brush. The darker leaves of the trees surrounding the lake contrasted with the lighter bottle-green grass growing nearby. It was quiet and peaceful, which was just what she needed right now.

Feeling a need to be closer to the lake, Abby guided her bike slowly down the hill, following a narrow trail and being careful not to get her long dress caught in the bushes. When she reached the bottom, she noticed a young English boy sitting on
a boulder with a fishing pole. He appeared to be alone, for she saw no one else in sight. Not wishing to disturb the child, she took a seat on one of the downed trees.

Clasping her hands around her knees, Abby lifted her face to the sun. She tried to pray, but no words would come. A verse of scripture popped into her mind. It was one Elizabeth had shared with her this morning from 1 Peter 1:7.
“That the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise and honour and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ.”
That was the second verse about fire Abby had heard since coming to Montana, and she wondered if God might be trying to tell her something. Abby knew her faith had been tried, but she felt as if her trials had done nothing to bring honor or praise to the Lord.