The Quilter's Daughter (41 page)

Walt set their suitcases on the front porch and said good-bye.

Matthew helped Abby up the steps, and they were almost to the front door when it swung open and a chorus of voices shouted, “Welcome home!”

“And I’m ever so glad to be here,” Abby said in return.

Mom, Abraham, Mary Ann, Nancy, Jake, Samuel, Norman, and his wife, Ruth, all crowded around, but Mom was the first to hug Abby. “Come inside and have a seat. You must be exhausted.”

Abby nodded. “It was a long trip, and my leg’s beginning to throb.”

Abraham took Abby’s crutches and helped her over to the couch. After she was seated, Matthew pulled up a footstool and slid it under her leg.

“How much longer will ya have to wear that thing? It looks mighty heavy,” Mary Ann said, leaning over to study Abby’s cast.

“Three more weeks.” Abby reached for her mother’s hand as Mom took a seat beside her. “Where are the twins? I’m anxious to see how much they’ve grown.”

“They’re upstairs taking their afternoon naps, but it’s nearly time for them to wake up,” Mom replied.

“Mary Ann and I will go fetch them.” Nancy grabbed her younger sister’s hand, and they raced out of the room.

“Will Naomi and her family be over soon?” Abby asked.

Mom nodded. “They plan to stop by after they close the store for the day. I invited them to have supper with us.”

“I’m glad. It will be nice to have the whole family together again.”

Abby spent the next half hour answering questions and offering explanations about Montana, the Amish auction, how she had saved the little boy from drowning, and her bicycle accident. “I’m happy to say that soon after my cast comes off, I’ll be ready to take over your quilt shop.” She smiled at her mother. “That is, if you still want me to.”

Mom’s eyes shimmered with tears, and she sniffed a couple of times. “I’d like that very much. It’s truly an answer to prayer.”

“I’m hoping to enlist the help of several women in our
community to make quilts that will be sent to needy people in Haiti. Elizabeth told me about the special project,” Abby said.

“That sounds like something a group of women are doing over near Strasburg, where Edna lives.” Mom pursed her lips. “Only I believe they’re sendin’ their quilts to Africa.”

Mary Ann and Nancy entered the room carrying Titus and Timothy. But Abby didn’t mind the interruption to the conversation. She was happy to see her little brothers, who had grown so much in her absence. “Bring those precious boys here so I can love on them a bit,” she said, motioning for the girls to come over to the couch.

“Be careful now,” Abraham said with a chuckle. “Titus and Timothy have more energy than five boys their age, and we don’t want ’em bumpin’ that leg of yours.”

Mom waved her hand. “Oh, husband, how you exaggerate.” She reached for Titus and plunked him in Abby’s lap, then took Timothy and seated him between her and Abby.

Abby kissed and hugged on the boys awhile, then Ruth asked Mom if it was time to start supper. Mom agreed but was reluctant to leave Abby.

“Ah, she’ll be fine by herself,” Jake said with a snicker. “Probably would enjoy bein’ away from all the noise for a while.”

Abby shook her head. “I don’t mind the noise one bit.”

“I’ll take the twins outside to sit on the porch swing.” Abraham gathered up his sons, while Mom, Ruth, and the girls headed for the kitchen.

“I think the rest of us ought to go outside, too,” Matthew said, looking at Norman, then Jake, and finally down at young Samuel. “Abby needs some quiet time before the rest of the family arrives, don’t ya think?”

“I’m okay, really,” Abby spoke up.

“Even so, it would make me feel better if you rested awhile.”

“Yes, Dr. Matthew,” she said with a smile.

He grinned, like he was pleased with himself, and carefully lifted Abby’s injured leg, helping her to lie on the couch. “Close your eyes, and we’ll let you know when Naomi and her family arrive.”

Abby settled against the pillows with a sigh. It was ever so nice to be home.

“It’s good to see you again, Abby. You were surely missed,” Naomi said. Supper was over and the two of them had come to the living room for a visit.

“I’m glad to be here.” Abby nodded at her suitcase, sitting near the woodstove. “Would you mind bringing that over to me? I’ve got something for you.”

“You didn’t have to bring me anything.”

Abby smiled. “Actually, it’s more for the boppli you’re carrying.”

“I see.” Naomi placed the suitcase on one end of the couch, and Abby scooted closer to it. She snapped the lid open and lifted the baby quilt, holding it out to Naomi. Naomi stood there a few seconds, staring at the quilt with a puzzled expression. Finally, with shaky fingers, she reached out and took it, examining each little square and touching every corner. Tears streamed down Naomi’s cheeks, and she sank into a chair near the couch. When she lifted one end of the quilt and pressed it against her cheek, her whole body trembled.

Abby felt concern and wondered if giving the baby covering to Naomi had been a bad idea. “I was hoping you would like the little quilt.”

Tears coursed down Naomi’s cheeks. “Oh, I do, Abby. I just need to know where you got it.”

“Elizabeth gave it to me. She said she’d found it at a thrift store when she and some other women from her community were on vacation.”

“Where was it, Abby? Did she tell you where they had gone?”

Abby sat there a few seconds, trying to recall what Elizabeth had said about the trip. “I—I think it was somewhere in the state of Washington. Why do you want to know, Naomi?”

“Because this was my little brother’s quilt.”

Abby leaned slightly forward, unsure of what her stepsister had said. “What was that?”

“This quilt belonged to Zach. Our mother made it for him before she died.”

“But—but how can you be sure it’s the same quilt?”

Naomi held up the covering. “See here, there’s a small patch that doesn’t fit the Tumbling Block pattern. The quilt got caught in Zach’s crib rails one morning, and I was in such a hurry I didn’t do a good job patching it.” She slowly shook her head, and more tears fell. “I would recognize this anywhere. It’s Zach’s, I know it is.”

Abby gasped. “Do you know what this means?”

Naomi nodded. “It means my little brother must be living in the state of Washington somewhere.” She stood and began to pace in front of the woodstove. “I’ve got to tell Papa about this. He needs to know Zach is still alive.”

Abby opened her mouth to protest, but she closed it again. Finding the quilt was no guarantee that Abraham’s son was still living. For that matter, the fact that Elizabeth had found the quilt in Washington didn’t mean Zach was there. Whoever had kidnapped the boy could have sold the quilt or thrown it out. It might have passed through many hands before it ended up in the thrift store.
How do I say this to Naomi without upsetting her further? If I’d known this little covering was going to cause her such pain, I would have left it with Elizabeth
. As the words flitted through her head, Abby quickly changed her mind.
The quilt is a link to Naomi’s missing brother, maybe an important one. Who am I to dash away any hope Naomi has of seeing Zach again?

Naomi started for the front door, and Abby figured she was heading for the barn where the men had gone after supper. Her hand touched the doorknob, but suddenly she whirled around. “I can’t show Papa the quilt. Not now. Maybe not ever.”

“Why not?”

“He’s been through so much over the years, I won’t see him hurt again. This would only get his hopes up.” Naomi flopped back into her chair, draping the quilt over her knees. “Even if Zach is living out west, we have no idea in which city or who his kidnapper is. Zach’s not a baby anymore, either. He would be seven years old by now. Why, he could walk right up to us and we probably wouldn’t even know it was him.”

“I’m sorry for upsetting you,” Abby apologized. “Maybe it would have been better if I hadn’t given you the quilt.”

“No, no, I’m glad you did.” Naomi buried her face in the quilt. “It might be hard to understand, but holding this actually brings me comfort.”

“Are you sure about not telling your daed?”

Naomi stood. “Someday, maybe. For now I’ll keep it in my boppli’s room as a reminder that somewhere my little bruder is still living among the English and I need to keep praying for him.”

Abby nodded. “I’ll be praying, too.”

“I’m going to the kitchen to get a paper sack to put the quilt in, so none of the others will see it.”

“Do you want to put it back in my suitcase for now?”

“That’s a good idea.” Naomi placed the quilt inside the suitcase, shut the lid, and then hurried from the room.

A few seconds later, Matthew showed up. “Whew, it’s still mighty warm out there. Looks like we’re in for some hot weather.” He wiped the perspiration from his forehead and smiled at Abby. “Before this summer’s over, you might wish you had stayed in Montana where it’s cooler.”

“I don’t think so.” She patted the cushion beside her. “Have a seat.”

He grinned, and his ears turned pink. She had embarrassed him again, but that was okay. The fact that Matthew blushed so easily was part of who he was, and she rather liked it.

“How’d you like to go on a picnic with me one day next week?” he asked, lowering himself to the couch. “That is, if you’re feelin’ up to it.”

“I’d like it fine, and I’m sure I’ll be feeling good enough to go.” Abby chuckled. “Of course, you’ll probably have to bring a chair for me to sit in. It might be easy enough for me to drop to the ground, but gettin’ back up would be a lot harder.”

Matthew reached over and took her hand, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze. “Why don’t you let me worry about that?”

Abby leaned against the sofa cushions and sighed.
I know my faith has been tried and withstood the flames. And regardless of what happens with Zach, the Fisher family, or between Matthew and me, I’m confident that God will see us through
.

Wanda E. Brunstetter enjoys writing about the Amish because they live a peaceful, simple life. Wanda’s interest in the Amish and other Plain communities began when she married her husband, Richard, who grew up in a Mennonite church in Pennsylvania. Wanda has made numerous trips to Lancaster County and has several friends and family members living near that area. She and her husband have also traveled to other parts of the country, meeting various Amish families and getting to know them personally. She hopes her readers will learn to love the wonderful Amish people as much as she does.

Wanda and her husband, Richard, have been married forty-two years. They have two grown children and six grandchildren. In her spare time, Wanda enjoys reading, ventriloquism, gardening, stamping, and having fun with her family.

Wanda has written several novels, novellas, stories, articles, poems, and puppet scripts.

To learn more about Wanda, visit her Web site at
www.wandabrunstetter.com
and feel free to e-mail her at
[email protected]
.