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Authors: Wanda E. Brunstetter

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BOOK: The Quilter's Daughter
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“Let’s wait a few minutes and see if she comes around.”

Somewhere in the distance, Abby heard muffled voices. Where was she? Why did it seem so dark? She tried to open her eyes, but her head hurt too much. She tried to think, tried to focus. Had she fallen into a deep, dark pit, or was this another one of her horrible nightmares?

Something cold touched her forehead, and a stinging sensation followed. Abby flinched.

“Abby, please say something.”

She recognized Matthew’s voice and struggled to open her eyes.

“She’s coming around.”

Someone’s cool hand touched the side of her face. She blinked and tried to sit up, but a heavy weight seemed to be pressing her down.

“Wh–what happened?” she murmured, as the faces of Naomi, Caleb, and Matthew came into view.

“You were talking on the phone one minute, and then you fainted.” Naomi held a small wet towel against Abby’s forehead.

Matthew clasped her hand. “You must have hit your head on the edge of the counter when you went down.”

Abby’s mind whirled like tree branches swishing in the wind as she forced herself to remember the conversation she’d had with Lester’s mamm.

“The phone. Where’s Deborah? I—I need to speak with her.” Tears blurred Abby’s vision, and she attempted once more to sit up.

Caleb knelt beside her, placing a gentle hand against her shoulder. “When you passed out, the phone went dead. Was it Lester’s mamm you were speaking to?”

Abby nodded, and the room tipped precariously. She swallowed the bitter acid taste in her mouth.
No, no, it can’t be. I had to be dreaming. That’s all it was—that frightening nightmare I’ve had about fire and smoke and a kitten being trapped with me
.

Abby trembled and squeezed Matthew’s hand. “It—it wasn’t a kitten that was trapped; it was Lester.”

“What are you talking about?” Naomi gave Abby’s arm a gentle shake. “Please, tell us what Deborah said.”

Abby turned her head away. “Fire. The quilt shop.”

“Did your shop in Berlin catch on fire? Is that what Deborah told you?” Caleb asked. Obvious concern creased his brow as he leaned closer to Abby.

She nodded and drew in a quivering breath as her stomach churned like a boiling pot on the stove.

“What happened? Was anyone hurt?” Naomi questioned.

Abby rolled her head from side to side, while the realization of what Deborah had said became clearer. She gazed at the gas lamp that hung overhead and wished she were dreaming. “He’s gone.”

Matthew leaned closer. “Who’s gone?”

“My Lester. He’s dead.” Abby choked on a sob and fell into Matthew’s arms.

Fannie paced the living room floor, anxious for some word on Abby. Matthew had brought her home from the quilt shop half an hour ago, and they’d called Dr. Frazier, who lived nearby. He’d been kind enough to make a house call and was upstairs
with Abby right now.

“Fannie, won’t you please sit down?” Abraham said, taking hold of her arm. “I’m sure we’ll hear something soon.”

She turned and looked up at him, tears flooding her eyes. “I can’t believe this has happened. Why would God allow it, Abraham?”

He pulled her gently to the couch, and they both took a seat. “Many times I’ve asked God that same question. First, when Sarah died, again after Zach was kidnapped, and once more when Naomi was gone for several months.” Abraham took hold of Fannie’s hand and massaged her fingers. “My friend Jacob has reminded me many times that God’s ways are not our ways. He allows certain things to happen, which often become a testing of our faith.”

“But Abby deserves to be happy,” Fannie wailed. “She was planning to return to Ohio right after Thanksgiving, and she and Lester were going to be married in January.” She dabbed at the moisture on her cheeks. “I should never have let my daughter stay here so long.”

“Fannie, you can’t blame yourself for this.”

“Abraham’s right,” Matthew spoke up. He’d been sitting in the rocking chair across the room ever since Abby had been taken upstairs. “It was an accident, plain and simple.”

“If I had only insisted that Abby return to Ohio sooner, the fire might not have happened and Lester would still be alive.” Fannie’s chin trembled. “My dear girl should be returning to Ohio to marry Lester, not bury him.”

Abraham squeezed her hand. “Please, don’t talk that way. It ain’t your fault. Abby came here to help because she wanted to. I know she would never cast the blame for this terrible loss at your feet.”

Fannie just sat there, too numb, too full of remorse to comment.

“I still don’t understand how the quilt shop caught fire or why Lester was in there and couldn’t get out,” Matthew said.

“We won’t have the answers until we speak with Deborah Mast. Even then, I’m not sure she will have all the details,” Abraham replied.

Fannie stood. “Dr. Frazier’s been with Abby long enough. She needs me.”

“Give them a few more minutes.” Abraham reached out to her, but she bolted from the room.

Just as Fannie reached Abby’s door, the doctor stepped into the hall. “There’s a small cut on her forehead, but no concussion from what my examination showed. I think with a few days’ rest she’ll be fine.”

“Fine? How can my daughter be fine? She’s just received news that the man she was planning to marry has been killed in a fire that destroyed her quilt shop.”

Dr. Frazier shook his head. “I was talking about her physical condition, Fannie. Abby’s in shock right now.”

“I need to see her.” Fannie pushed past the doctor, rushed over to Abby, and took a seat on the edge of her bed.

Abby lay quietly, her eyes shut and a small bandage taped to her forehead. Her cheeks were chalky white and stained with tears. It nearly broke Fannie’s heart to see her sweet daughter that way.

Fannie took Abby’s hand and squeezed it gently. “My dear girl, I’m so sorry this happened. If there were a way I could shoulder your pain, I surely would.”

Abby’s eyes opened, and Fannie studied her through the dim circle of light cast by the oil lamp at her bed. She not only looked pale, but her brown eyes appeared faded, as though her tears had washed some of the color away. There was no question about it— Fannie knew her daughter’s heart was broken and bleeding.

“He’s gone, Mom. Lester is gone.” A strangled sob escaped Abby’s lips, and she moaned.

Fannie nodded and swallowed around the lump in her throat. “I know, dear one.” A deafening silence hung in the air, separating them like a shade at the window.
If only I knew what I could say to comfort my girl. If I could just take this dreadful pain away
.

“Why? Why’d this happen now, when I was ready to go home? What was Lester doing at my quilt shop, and how did it catch on fire?”

Fannie shook her head. “Caleb and Naomi are making phone calls to Ohio. After they’ve spoken with Deborah, we’ll know more of the details.”

Abby struggled to sit up. “I need to go home. Need to be there for Deborah, to attend Lester’s funeral, and see about the quilt shop.”

Fannie wrapped her arms around Abby and held her tight. “We can talk about all that later. You don’t have to think about any of this right now.”

Abby released a shuddering sigh. “It’s—it’s my fault Lester is dead.”

“No, no. You mustn’t say that.”

“It’s true. I know now what those dreams I’ve been having meant.”

“You do?”

Abby nodded. “Don’t you see, Mom? The kitten in my dream represented Lester, and I was supposed to save him.”

“Oh, Abby, I don’t think—”

“The dreams were a warning of what was to come. I should have returned to Ohio sooner. I might not have been able to keep the fire from happening, but I could have prevented Lester from going in after my quilts.”

“You can’t know that,” Fannie argued. “Once a man determines that he’s going to do something, there’s little a woman can say that will change his mind.”

Abby shook her head. “He listened to me when the cheese place caught on fire. He’d wanted to go inside the building to see if his friend Joe was all right, but he didn’t, because I asked him not to.”

Unsure of what to do or say to ease her daughter’s pain, Fannie held Abby, and they wept together.

Naomi sat on the wooden stool behind the counter in their store, waiting for Caleb to get off the phone. He had called his cousin Henry, who ran a buggy shop outside of Berlin, asking for the phone number of Lester’s blacksmith shop. Now he was
talking with one of Lester’s employees, trying to get some details about the fire and Lester’s death.

Oh, Lord
, Naomi prayed,
please help Abby during this difficult time. She’s so sweet and kind, always caring for others while she sets her own needs aside. Show me how I might help her
.

Caleb hung up the phone and groaned.

“What is it, Caleb? What did you find out?”

“The cause of the fire is still unclear, but there was a witness who overheard Lester say he was going inside to save Abby’s quilts.” Caleb shook his head, and his eyes darkened. “The first time he went into the burning shop, he was able to bring out a couple of quilts. But when he went in the second time, he didn’t make it out again. By the time the firemen were able to get inside the store, Lester was dead.”

Naomi covered her mouth with the back of her hand as mist welled in her eyes. She dropped her hands to her lap and looked at her husband. “How will Abby get through this, Caleb? What can we do to help her?”

Caleb squeezed her shoulder. “ ‘I will instruct thee and teach thee in the way which thou shalt go: I will guide thee with mine eye,’ saith the Lord.”

She nodded, remembering the passage of scripture from Psalm 32:8 that their bishop had quoted in church a week ago. Oh, how they required God’s instruction—this needy family, who’d already been through so much pain.

A
bby sat on a wooden bench, waiting for the early Monday morning bus to depart. Abraham had hired an English driver to take her to the station in Lancaster. Mom had wanted to send Nancy along on the trip, but Abby insisted she would be fine and preferred to go alone. She had told her mamm that going back to Ohio was something she must do on her own, and she’d meant it.

She clutched the straps of her black purse and drew in a deep breath, as she struggled for control. She felt all stirred up. Her insides burned like hot coals.
I can do this. Deborah needs me. Lord, give me the strength
.

When the bus pulled into the station a few minutes later, Abby climbed aboard. She looked for a seat at the back of the bus, hoping she wouldn’t have to sit next to anyone. She didn’t want to make polite conversation. She didn’t want to think or even feel. Sleep. That’s what she needed right now.

Abby leaned her head back and squeezed her eyes shut against the tears that were so determined to fall. Controlled by an irrational need to hear Lester’s voice, she allowed her thoughts to carry her away.

A vision of Lester inside his blacksmith shop popped into her mind. She could smell the pungent aroma of hot metal being forged and feel the heat of glowing embers beneath the anvil. His green shirt and tan suspenders accentuated the crimson flush on his face. Lester smiled in that easygoing way of his; then he reached out his hand. The memory was painful, yet strangely soothing.

BOOK: The Quilter's Daughter
10.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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