The Half-Stitched Amish Quilting Club (25 page)

BOOK: The Half-Stitched Amish Quilting Club
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“I got that impression right off the bat. Think they’ll finish taking Emma’s classes?”

 

“I don’t know. I guess we’ll have to wait and see how it goes.” Ruby Lee motioned to a nearby bench. “Shall we take a seat?”

 

They sat quietly for a while, watching the squirrels run back and forth across the path. Then Ruby Lee asked Star a few questions about herself and was surprised to learn that the young woman not only sang and played the guitar, but had composed a few songs.

 

“Why don’t you sing something you’ve written for me?” Ruby Lee asked.

 

Star’s dark eyes widened. “Here? Now?”

 

“I wish you would.”

 

“But none of my songs are completed yet. I just have a few lines written on each of them,” Star said.

 

“That’s all right. I’d like to hear some of the lyrics you’ve come up with.”

 

“Well, okay.” In a hesitant voice, Star began to sing. “Can’t seem to look behind the right door; maybe that’s ‘cause I don’t know exactly what I’m looking for….” As she continued into the chorus, her tone grew stronger. “It’s hard to breathe…. It’s hard to sleep…. It’s hard to know who you are when you’re a lost and falling star.”

 

When Star finished the song, she turned to Ruby Lee and said, “It’s not much, but at least it’s a beginning to something that I hope I’ll be able to complete.”

 

“Oh, I’m sure you will, and Star, you certainly have a lovely voice,” Ruby Lee said truthfully. “The words to your song were well written, but my only concern is that they evoke a message of sadness and hopelessness. Is that the way you really feel?”

 

Star nodded solemnly. “Nothin’ ever goes right for me, and I—I feel kinda lost, like I don’t know what purpose I serve here on earth.”

 

Ruby Lee placed her hand over Star’s, unable to speak around the lump in her throat. Here was a young woman without hope, and Ruby Lee, a pastor’s wife and professing Christian, couldn’t think of a thing to say but, “I’m sorry, Star.”

 

“That’s just how it is—life stinks!” Star leaped to her feet. “Guess I’d better finish my run and head for home. Mom’s probably havin’ a hissy fit wondering why I’m so late gettin’ home from work this morning. See you on Saturday, Ruby Lee.” She turned and sprinted in the opposite direction, leaving Ruby Lee alone on the bench, feeling even worse than when she’d left home. Oh, how she wished she had shared the love of Jesus with Star right then. She’d seen Star’s need and how quickly she covered up her emotions, and yet she’d missed the perfect opportunity to tell the confused young woman about God’s love. Was it because she felt so hopeless and sad herself? Truth was, Ruby Lee really needed someone to encourage her today, but Star, not even knowing Ruby Lee’s need, hadn’t been able to do that. Worse yet, Ruby Lee hadn’t met Star’s real need either.

 

 

Shipshewana

 

Emma cringed as she directed her horse and buggy toward the health food store. Every move she made and every bump in the road made the lesions on her stomach rub against her clothes and hurt like the dickens. While Emma was getting dressed that morning, she’d discovered several painful blisters and realized she had in fact developed another case of shingles. She’d immediately gone to the phone shack to call her naturopathic doctor but was unable to get an appointment until tomorrow. So she’d decided to head to the health food store near the Shipshewana Flea Market to find a remedy that might help with her painful symptoms. If her blisters continued to hurt like this, she wondered how she could teach the quilting class on Saturday. She would have asked Mary to take over for her, but Mary and her family had left this morning for Sullivan, Illinois, to attend the wedding of Brian’s cousin, and they wouldn’t be back until Saturday evening.

 

When Emma arrived at the health food store, she guided her horse up to the hitching rail and gritted her teeth as she climbed down. Just the slightest movement caused pain, making her wish she’d asked someone else to make the trip for her. Emma really wished she could be home in bed.

 

When she entered the store, she headed for the aisle full of herbal preparations, where she found some pills labeled as help for the pain and itching of shingles. She also discovered a bottle of aromatic oils to dab on the blisters.

 

“Need some help?”

 

Emma jumped at the sound of a man’s deep voice. Surprised, she turned and saw Lamar beside her. “I … uh … came here to get something that might help with shingles’ pain.”

 

Lamar’s eyebrows furrowed. “For you, Emma?”

 

She nodded slowly. “The eruptions came out this morning. Now I know why I haven’t felt well the last few days.”

 

“I had a case of shingles a few years ago,” Lamar said. “My doctor gave me a B-12 shot.”

 

“Did it help?”

 

“I believe so. He also gave me a shot to help prevent any nerve pain.”

 

“I couldn’t get in to see my doctor today, but I’ll go there in the morning.” Emma motioned to the bottles on the shelf. “In the meantime, I think I’ll use one of these.” She sighed deeply. “I hope I’m feeling better by Saturday. I can’t imagine trying to teach my quilt class feeling like I do right now.”

 

“I’d be happy to fill in for you,” Lamar offered.

 

Emma tipped her head back and looked up at him in surprise. “Oh, I doubt you’d know what to do.”

 

“You’re wrong about that.” Lamar smiled. “My wife used to run a quilt shop, and I helped out there. In fact, I even designed some rather unusual quilt patterns for her to make.”

 

Emma’s mouth fell open. “Are you serious?”

 

“Sure am.”

 

“I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll be able to teach the class.” At least she hoped she could, because despite what Lamar said about having helped his wife, she couldn’t imagine how things would go if he tried to teach the class in her place. But when Saturday came, if she felt like she did now, as much as it would sadden her, she’d have to cancel the class.

 
C
HAPTER
23
Mishawaka
 

W
hen Stuart entered the kitchen on Friday morning, he found Pam sitting at the table drinking a cup of coffee.

 

“Where are the kids?” he asked after he’d poured himself some coffee and joined her at the table.

 

“They’re still in bed. I figured I’d let them sleep awhile so I can have some quiet time to myself.”

 

“Guess you won’t get much of that once school’s out for the summer.”

 

“No, I sure won’t.”

 

Stuart blew on his coffee and took a sip. “Since tomorrow’s Saturday and I have the day off, why don’t you get together with one of your friends? You can go shopping all morning and then out to lunch while I keep an eye on the kids.”

 

Pam shook her head. “Tomorrow’s the quilting class, remember?”

 

He snapped his fingers. “Oh yeah, that’s right. I almost forgot.”

 

“It sounds to me like you did forget,” she said, scowling at him.

 

He shrugged. “Okay, so maybe I did. There’s no big deal in that, is there?”

 

“Well, that all depends.”

 

“On what?”

 

“On whether you just conveniently forgot.”

 

“I didn’t conveniently forget. Things have been busier than usual at work this week, and my brain’s tired; that’s all.”

 

“Are you sure you didn’t suggest I go shopping with a friend so you wouldn’t have to go to the quilting class with me?”

 

“No, that’s not how it was.”

 

“Would you rather go without me again?”

 

Stuart’s irritation mounted. “Are you trying to put words in my mouth?”

 

“No, I just thought—”

 

Knowing that if he didn’t get out of there immediately he’d start yelling, Stuart pushed away from the table. “I’ve gotta go or I’ll be late for work.”

 

“But you haven’t had your breakfast yet.”

 

He gestured to the table. “I don’t see anything waiting for me … unless it’s invisible.”

 

Tears welled in her eyes. “You don’t have to be sarcastic. I was waiting to start breakfast until you’d had your coffee.”

 

“Well, I don’t want any breakfast!” Stuart hauled his coffee cup to the sink and rushed out the back door, slamming it behind him. It seemed like every time he tried to have a conversation with Pam, they ended up in an argument. He was tired of it, and her turning on the tears didn’t help. He was sure she did it just to make him feel like a heel, and it wasn’t going to work this time. If things were ever going to be better between them, Pam needed to get off his back and quit antagonizing him all the time.

 

 

Shipshewana

 

After Jan ate a quick breakfast, he went out to the garage to get some tools for the roof he planned to strip today. Terry would be here to pick him up soon, and then they could be on their way.

 

When Jan entered the garage, his gaze came to rest on his motorcycle, parked beside his truck. Oh how he wished he could ride it right now. Just head on down the road and leave all his troubles behind. But he knew he couldn’t do that. He had a responsibility to complete a roofing job, not to mention the quilting classes he’d paid good money for and really did want to finish. Besides, if he rode the Harley and got stopped by the police, he’d probably have his license permanently suspended. No, he could hold out for a couple more months until he got his license back. No sense taking any foolish chances on his bike. He’d done that already, and just look what it had cost him.

 

Jan ambled across the room and took a seat on the cycle. Gripping the handlebars and closing his eyes, he let his mind wander for a bit, wondering just where his life was going. With the exception of work and riding his motorcycle, he really didn’t have much purpose—not like he would if he were a married man raising a family. But he’d given up on that idea several years ago, convincing himself that he was better off alone. Besides, he figured living a quiet, boring life was better than a life full of complications. Had he been wrong about that? Should he have taken a chance on love again? Was it too late for that now?

 

Brutus sure kept me on my toes, he thought, redirecting his thoughts. At least the dog gave me a reason to come home every night
.

 

Jan wondered if he should get another dog to take Brutus’s place. Maybe a pup he could train from the get-go would be better than a full-grown dog with bad habits, like stealing and escaping from his pen.

 

But do I really want to go through that puppy stage? he wondered. All the chewin’ and numerous trips outside till it’s housebroken. On the other hand, puppies are cute and have that milky-sweet breath. Guess I’ll have to think on it a bit more before I jump into anything I might later regret
.

 

Woof! Woof!

 

Jan’s eyes snapped open. Had he been so deep in thought that he was hearing things, or was that a dog barking outside the garage?

 

Woof! Woof! Woof!

 

Jan leaped off the bike and jerked open the garage door.

 

Brutus, tail wagging like a windshield wiper at full speed, bounded up to Jan with a toy football in his mouth, which he promptly dropped at Jan’s feet. Then he sat down in front of Jan, tail still wagging, as if waiting for some sort of praise at the gift he’d just delivered.

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