The Quilter's Daughter (34 page)

I
still can’t believe you booked us a flight into Akron/Canton without bothering to check with me first.” Jim released the tray in front of his seat on the plane and grimaced. He dreaded going to Ohio again. What if Linda wanted to extend their stay and drive to Pennsylvania in order to tour Amish Country? They hadn’t seen much of it the last time they were there, and she’d been after him to go back ever since. And what if someone from Jimmy’s Amish family spotted him and Jim ended up behind bars on kidnapping charges?

Linda looked at him and frowned. “Do you have to keep bringing this up? Ever since you got home last night, all you’ve done is complain about the trip. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you didn’t want to see your dad.”

“It’s not the trip I’m upset about. It’s the fact that you planned everything without my knowledge.” Jim glanced over at their son, asleep in his seat next to the window. “Before we adopted Jimmy, you left everything up to me, but in the past year or so you’ve gotten pretty independent.”

“Do you see that as a bad thing?”

“It is when you usurp my authority.”

She folded her arms and stared straight ahead. “I was not usurping your authority. I did what needed to be done because you weren’t there to do it.”

“Humph!”
Jim snapped the tray shut. Where was that flight attendant? It had been at least ten minutes since she’d said she would be serving a snack, and he could really use a drink.

“Don’t you realize how important it is to see your father
before he goes into surgery?” Linda asked. “What if he doesn’t make it? What if—”

“He will make it. He has to, Linda. Mom couldn’t survive without Dad.”

Linda turned to look at Jim again, and her face softened. “I know you’re worried about him, but all the worry in the world won’t change a thing. What Bob needs is prayer, and I’ve been doing that ever since I talked to your mother on the phone.”

Jim squeezed his fingers into a tight fist, until his nails bit into his flesh. “Right. Like prayer is going to change anything.”

“It can, and it has.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He blew out his breath. “I don’t see why you and Jimmy had to come along on this trip. Our son should be in school, not thousands of miles from home, mingling with strangers.”

Linda’s forehead wrinkled. “That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard you say. Jimmy’s only in first grade, so if he misses a few days of school, it won’t be the end of the world. Besides, your parents aren’t strangers. They’ve been out to visit us several times since we adopted Jimmy.”

He shrugged. “You’re right, as usual.”

“This isn’t about being right.” Linda reached for his hand. “Your parents are my family, too. I want the three of us to be there to offer support as they go through this stressful ordeal.”

Jim leaned his head against the seat and closed his eyes.
Guess I’m worried for nothing. Even if Linda decides she wants to tour Amish Country in Pennsylvania, all I have to do is say no. I’ll just tell her there are plenty of Amish in Ohio we can see. I know I’m being paranoid when I worry about someone finding out the truth of Jimmy’s heritage. Just like with that woman at the fitness center who mentioned to Linda that Jimmy reminded her of an Amish child she used to know. It was irrational for me to think the woman knew the Amish boy I took. Jim drew in a deep breath and tried to relax. I need to remember that Jimmy’s not a one-year-old baby anymore. His Amish family or anyone who knew him back then could probably look him right in the face and not even know it was their child
.

Abraham’s boots crunched through the gravel as he headed to the small outbuilding Matthew used for his woodworking shop. The two of them had both been busy lately and hadn’t said more than a few words to each other. He figured a good visit was long overdue. Besides, there was something specific he wished to discuss with his eldest son.

Inside the shop, Abraham found Matthew bent over a table, sanding a mahogany quilt hanger. “Got a minute?”

Matthew looked up and grinned. “Sure. Always have time for you, Papa.”

Abraham removed his black felt hat and hung it on a wall peg near the door. “Fannie says you never came to the kitchen for breakfast yesterday morning. She figured you’d gone into Paradise to work at the quilt shop, but she and the boys stopped by there, and Naomi said you hadn’t been in.”

Matthew blew some dust off the piece of wood he was sanding. “Had some errands to run in Lancaster, so I hired a driver and we grabbed a bite to eat at a fast-food restaurant on the way.”

“Ah, I see.” Abraham took a seat on a sawhorse sitting a few feet away. “Mind if I ask what kind of business you were tendin’ to?”

“Just ordering some supplies and checkin’ out a few furniture stores to see what’s selling well.”

“You thinkin’ of adding more to your line than just quilt racks and hangers?”

Matthew nodded. “Yep.”

Abraham glanced around. “This building’s not very big. How you gonna fit a bunch of furniture inside?”

“Thought I’d work on one piece at a time, then take ’em to the quilt shop and try to sell ’em there.”

“You’re becomin’ quite the businessman these days, ain’t it so?”

“I’m workin’ on it.” Matthew’s eyes twinkled, and his grin stretched ear-to-ear. “I think I’ve found what I’ve been lookin’ for all these years, Papa. Never did enjoy workin’ in the fields, and
the feel of wood and sandpaper under my fingers brings me much pleasure.”

“I know what you’re saying, son. Workin’ at the store wasn’t my idea of fun, but bein’ back in the fields is like honey on my tongue. Sure am glad Norman’s brother-in-law, Willis, came to work for me after you gave up farming completely.”

“Jah, it’s good he was able and willing, Papa,” Matthew said with a nod.

Abraham chewed on the inside of his cheek as he contemplated his next words.

“You got somethin’ else on your mind, Papa? You’re lookin’ kind of thoughtful there.”

Abraham grunted. “Guess you know me too well.”

Matthew straightened, reaching around to rub a spot in his lower back. “Why don’t you just say whatever it is that brought you out here? I have a feelin’ it’s more than just a friendly visit.”

“Well, truth be told, I’ve been wonderin’ about something.”

“What’s that?”

Abraham left the sawhorse and moved to stand beside his son. “I’m a little concerned because you spend so much time alone.”

Matthew’s fingers moved from his back up to his forehead, where he made little circular motions. “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. I live in the same house as you, and I’m around the family a lot.”

“Not anymore. You spend most of your waking moments out here or in town at the quilt shop.”

“And when I’m there I’m around customers, so I’m not alone.”

Abraham gave his beard a couple of sharp pulls. This conversation wasn’t going nearly as well as he’d hoped. Maybe he should be more direct with Matthew, instead of thumping around the shrubs. “Okay, let me give it to you straight. . . . I’m worried because you don’t have a steady girlfriend.” He shrugged. “For that matter, as far as I know, you’ve never had more’n a few dates since you turned sixteen and got your courtin’ buggy. I know you’re kind of shy around women you don’t know well, but most men
your age are married and have several kinner by now.”

Matthew’s forehead wrinkled. “There’s a reason for that, Papa. I haven’t found the right woman yet.”

Abraham released a puff of air and tapped Matthew on the shoulder. “How hard have ya been lookin’?”

Matthew’s hand fluttered, like he was batting at an annoying fly. “Ah, Papa, do I have to go lookin’ for a wife? Can’t I just pray about it and let the good Lord bring the right woman when the time’s right?” He sobered. “ ’Course, maybe I’m not cut out for marriage or raisin’ a family.”

“
Puh
! That’s plain
eefeldich
—silly. Of course you’re cut out for it. You’re a good man, with a lot of love to give a wife and a brood of kinner.” Abraham shook his head. “Maybe you’re just too picky. Have you thought of that?”

“Maybe so, but I won’t settle. Not for anything.”

“Don’t expect ya to settle. Just make a little more effort, that’s all. Surely there has to be someone you could become interested in.”

Matthew’s face turned crimson, and he moved swiftly back to his workbench.

Abraham followed. “There is someone, isn’t there?”

“Maybe, but she don’t know I’m alive.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because she only thinks of me as her big brother.” The red in Matthew’s cheeks deepened, and he started sanding the piece of wood again, real hard.

Abraham smiled.
Ah, so it
is
Abby my son’s come to care for. Who else would be looking on him as though he were her brother? Better not say anything, though. No point embarrassing Matthew more than I already have. Truth be told, Abby and Matthew would be good for each other, but I guess that’s not my place to be sayin’
.

“Well, I’d better head up to the house for some lunch. Fannie’s probably wonderin’ what’s keepin’ me.” Abraham turned for the door and grabbed his hat off the wall peg. “You comin’, son?”

“In a few minutes.”

As Abraham headed up to the house, his brain swirled with ideas. . .things he might do to get Abby and Matthew together.
Of course, she would have to come home before anything could happen.

Abby stood at the end of Elizabeth’s driveway, waving good-bye to Edna. She’d been picked up by the same English driver who had met them at the train in Whitefish when they first arrived in Montana. She couldn’t believe how quickly she had been able to get Edna’s train ticket. Coming here, they’d only purchased one-way tickets, since they weren’t sure how long they would be staying, and those had been bought several days in advance.

“Shall we go inside and have a cup of hot tea?” Elizabeth asked, touching Abby’s arm.

“Jah, that sounds good.”

As they started up the driveway, a multitude of doubts tumbled around in Abby’s mind. Should she have let Edna go home by herself when she knew how the woman felt about traveling alone? Was Abby really staying because Elizabeth was lonely, or had she made this decision because of her own selfish needs? She’d never felt like a selfish person until she’d come here. In fact, she’d always looked out for others before thinking of herself.

Elizabeth draped her arm over Abby’s shoulder. “Edna’s gonna be fine, and you did the right thing by stayin’ here.” She grinned, and the dimple in her left cheek seemed to be more pronounced than usual.

“I hope so.”

They entered the house and removed their wraps then headed to the kitchen. Elizabeth turned on the back burner of the propane stove, and Abby took two empty mugs and a couple of tea bags down from the cupboard.

“Would ya like some banana bread to go with the tea?” Elizabeth asked.

“That would be nice.”

A few minutes later they were both seated at the table with steaming cups of raspberry tea and a plate of moist banana bread set before them.

“Edna tells me you’re quite a quilter,” Elizabeth commented.

“I—uh—used to be.” Abby took a sip of tea, hoping their conversation would take another direction.

“Edna also told me about your quilt shop burning and how your future husband tried to rescue some of the quilts but perished in the fire.”

Abby swallowed the tea in her mouth and nodded. This was the first time this subject had come up since she’d been here, and she was afraid if she spoke, she might break down and cry. Just thinking about the fire that had destroyed her dreams made her feel weepy. Talking about it was nearly unbearable.

“How long ago did it happen?”

“Right before Thanksgiving,” Abby mumbled.

“And you’re still grieving as though it were yesterday. I can see the sorrow in your eyes and hear the anguish in your voice.”

Abby nodded. “I wonder if the pain will ever go away.”

Elizabeth reached across the table and patted Abby’s hand in a motherly fashion. “Of course it will. This kind of grief takes time to get over.”

“I understand that you lost your son and husband in a car accident,” Abby ventured to say.