The Quilter's Daughter (28 page)

Fannie hurried from the room and leaned over the banister. “Come on up!” she hollered as Edna stepped into the hallway. “I’m about to nurse the twins, but we can visit while I feed them.”

“Be right there!” Edna called in response.

Fannie slipped back to the boys’ room and seated herself in the rocking chair with Timothy in her arms. Titus seemed content to suck his thumb for the moment, but Timothy had been fussing ever since she’d come upstairs.

Soon Edna entered the room, her cheeks rosy and her eyes aglow. “Wie geht’s?” she said, flopping to the end of Fannie’s bed.

“I’m fine, and you?”

Edna rubbed her hands briskly over her arms. “At the moment, I’m cold, but other than that, I’m right as rain.” She giggled. “Make that right as snow.”

Fannie smiled.

“How are our growin’ boys?” Edna asked. “Are they sittin’ up by themselves yet?”

“No, but I expect it won’t be long in comin’.”

“How’s Abby these days? And where is she? I didn’t see her downstairs with the others.”

“She must have gone outside. She was pretty worked up earlier.” Fannie shook her head. “I’m really worried about her, Edna. All my daughter does is work, and she won’t even consider making quilts or helpin’ out at the shop. Not even part time.”

Edna clucked her tongue. “It’s never easy to lose a loved one, but when you’re Abby’s age and on the brink of marriage, I think it hurts even more.”

“She blames herself for the fire, you know.”

Edna’s dark eyebrows rose. “How so? She wasn’t there. She didn’t knock over that kerosene lantern.”

“You and I know it wasn’t her fault, but my daughter thinks otherwise.”

Fannie finished nursing Timothy, then after he had burped, she put him back in the crib. Now it was Titus’s turn to be fed. “Abby believes if she’d gone back to Ohio sooner the accident wouldn’t have happened. Also, she told me that she’d had a recurring dream about a fire, and she thinks it was some kind of warning—one she should have heeded.”

“But if it was Lester’s time to go, nothing Abby said or did could have prevented the fire or him gettin’ killed.”

Fannie shook her head. “I know some believe that’s the way things are, but I’ve never been so sure about it.”

Edna shrugged and moved over to the crib, reaching through the slats and tickling Timothy’s bare toes. Apparently she didn’t want to debate the issue.

“To tell you the truth,” Fannie went on to say, “I’m beginning to wonder if Abby will ever get over Lester’s death and become part of our world again.”

“She’s not pinin’ away in her room or givin’ in to fits of tears, is she?”

“No, but she keeps everything bottled up and works from sunup to sunset.” Fannie sighed. “Won’t even talk to her own mamm about things.”

Edna walked away from the crib, and Timothy howled. She scooted back across the room and picked him up. Taking a seat on the bed, she rocked the baby in her arms.

“Say, I have an idea,” she said in an excited tone.

“What’s that?”

“I’m wonderin’ if it might help Abby if she went away for a while.”

Fannie blinked. “Away? Where would she go?”

“Give me a minute, now. I’m thinkin’ on that.”

Fannie hated the idea of Abby going anywhere, but she’d be willing to send her to the moon if it would help with the depression.

“Hmm. . .”

“What?”

“My late husband’s sister is a widow who lives in a small Amish community in northern Montana.”

“And?”

“Elizabeth’s been through a lot, losin’ both her husband and son in the same accident.”

“How’d she deal with it?”

“Better than you can imagine.”

“Do you think she might be able to help my daughter?”

Edna shrugged. “It’s worth a try, don’t ya think?”

“Maybe so, but how are we going to convince Abby to go to Montana to visit a woman she’s never met?”

Edna’s smile stretched ear-to-ear. “Just leave that up to me.”

L
inda fidgeted with the straps on her purse as she sat across the desk from Rev. Deming, waiting for him to get off the phone.
Should I have come here this morning? Will the pastor be able to help me?
She gripped the armrest of the chair.
If Jim finds out, he’ll be furious
.

Rev. Deming hung up the phone a few minutes later. “That was my wife calling from the church’s daycare center. They’re shorthanded today and she can’t get away, so I’ll ask my secretary to join us, if you don’t mind.”

“Your—your secretary?” What was the man planning to do, ask Mrs. Gray to take notes during their counseling session?

He nodded. “My wife usually sits in whenever I counsel with women.”

“Can’t we leave the door open or something?” Linda leaned forward, her shoulders stiffening. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable discussing my problems with anyone but you or Mrs. Deming.”

The pastor sat there several seconds. Finally, he nodded and reached for his Bible. “The door stays open. How can I help you, Linda?”

She drew in a deep breath. “My—my husband needs the Lord but he refuses to come to church.”

“I believe he was here for our Thanksgiving service and the children’s Christmas program.”

“Yes, but he only came out of obligation, and it was obvious that he was miserable.”

“Perhaps in time he will feel more comfortable about attending on a regular basis.”

She shook her head. “Unless things get better at home, I doubt he’ll ever agree to come to church with me and Jimmy on Sunday mornings.”

Pastor Deming placed his hands on top of the Bible and leaned slightly forward. “Would you care to explain?”

“Jim and I were high school sweethearts, and during the first few years of our marriage we got along well.”

“And now?”

“Ever since we adopted our son, things haven’t been right between us. Jim works long hours and is rarely at home. When he is there, he’s edgy and often says harsh things to me. We hardly ever do anything just for fun, and whenever I’ve suggested we go back east to visit his folks, he flatly refuses.” Linda paused and licked her lips. “At first I thought it was my fault that our marriage was falling apart, because I tend to be overprotective of Jimmy. But then, after I became a Christian, I made more of an effort to please my husband and not be so overbearing where our son is concerned.”

“How does Jim respond to that?”

“It’s made no dent in his moods. If anything, I think he’s become more impatient with me. There are times when he seems so agitated, and I’m afraid he might—” Tears clouded Linda’s vision, and she sniffed, hoping to keep them from spilling over.

Pastor Deming opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a box of tissues. “Take your time, Linda. I know this is hard.”

“Thanks.” She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “I have no proof, but I’ve got a terrible feeling that Jim might be hiding something from me.”

“Do you think he could be involved with another woman?”

Linda trembled. “Oh, I hope not. But I suppose—” Her voice faltered. What if Jim was having an affair? How would she cope if he wanted a divorce? She had no job, no way of supporting herself and Jimmy. And what if he tried to get custody of their son? “Do you think I should hire a detective?”

The pastor ran his fingers through the back of his thick gray hair. “That’s your decision, of course, but if your husband found out he was being followed, it could make things worse.”

“You’re probably right. Besides, how would I pay for a detective without Jim knowing?”

“I’d like to give you a list of scriptures to read,” the pastor said. A few minutes later he handed her a slip of paper. “I would also suggest you keep praying and try to set your husband a good example.” His bushy eyebrows drew together. “Do you think Jim might be willing to come in for counseling, either by himself or with you as a couple?”

She shook her head. “I’ve suggested that, but he flatly refuses.”

Rev. Deming offered to pray with Linda before she left, and she nodded in agreement. At this point, she knew God was the only One who could save her marriage.

Abby stood at the kitchen sink, peeling potatoes for tonight’s supper. She had struggled with guilt ever since she’d turned down Naomi’s request to fill in for her at the quilt shop today. Even so, she knew there was no way she could go there without falling apart.

She cut up the potatoes and dropped them into the pot of stew, then glanced out the kitchen window when she heard a horse and buggy pull into the yard. It was Cousin Edna, and she was heading for the house. Abby hurried to open the back door.

Edna stamped the snow off her boots before entering the kitchen. “Whew! Sure is a blustery day! I wish spring would hurry and get here.”

“I’m surprised you would make the trip from Strasburg in this kind of weather,” Abby commented.

Edna hung her heavy black shawl and matching bonnet on a wall peg, then went to warm herself in front of the woodstove. “I don’t enjoy drivin’ the buggy in the snow, but I needed to speak with you today.”

“I thought it was Mom you came to see.”

“Nope.” Edna glanced around. “Where is Fannie, anyway?”

“Upstairs feeding the twins.”

“And the menfolk?”

“They’re out in the barn.” Abby thought her mother’s cousin was acting kind of strange, but then Edna always had been a little different than most. “Would you like a cup of hot apple cider or some mint tea?”

“Jah, that sounds good.”

“Which one do you want?” Abby asked, feeling a bit impatient. She had things to do and didn’t have time for a visit with her mamm’s happy-go-lucky cousin.

Edna shrugged and pulled out a chair at the kitchen table. “It doesn’t matter. Just as long as it’s hot. Need somethin’ to warm my insides, don’t ya know?”

Abby poured them both some hot water and added a tea bag to each cup. She placed Edna’s in front of her and took a seat across from the woman. “Would you care for something to eat? I believe there’s still half a shoofly pie left over from this morning.”

Edna patted her stomach. “I’d better pass on the pie. Think I gained a couple of pounds over the holidays.”

Abby studied the woman’s slender figure. Even if she had gained a few pounds, it wouldn’t be a bad thing. From all that Mom had said, Edna had never dealt with a weight problem. Not the way Mom struggled with it, that was for certain sure.

“So, what’d you want to talk to me about?” Abby asked.

Edna took a sip of tea and smacked her lips. “Umm. . .this surely hits the spot.”

An uncomfortable silence passed between them, and Abby glanced at the door leading to the hallway. She wished Mom would come downstairs and rescue her. In fact, if Edna didn’t say what was on her mind in the next few seconds, Abby might leave the table and cut more vegetables for the stew simmering on the stove.

“I’ve been in touch with my sister-in-law who lives near Rexford, Montana,” Edna announced. “She’s wantin’ me to come there for a visit, but it would mean I’d have to travel by train.”

Abby had no idea what this had to do with her, but she waited to hear what else Edna had to say.

“I’ve never been on a train before, and to tell ya the truth, I hate the idea of travelin’ alone.” Edna paused and took another
swallow of tea. “So, I was wonderin’ if you’d be willing to accompany me.”

Abby squinted. “You want me to make a trip to Montana?”

“Jah.”

“But that’s clear across the country.”

“It’s not so far by train.”

“I can’t leave Mom and the kinner. Surely there must be someone else you can ask.”

Edna shook her head. “Can’t ask my daughter. She’s got three little ones to care for. Gerald, my son, has his dairy farm to run.”

“What about Gerald’s wife? Couldn’t she go with you?”

“Mattie helps Gerald with the cows. Besides, she’s got four kinner still living at home.”

Abby’s head began to throb, and she massaged the bridge of her nose, hoping to ward off the headache she felt was forthcoming.

“It would mean a lot to me if you’d agree to be my traveling companion,” Edna persisted. “To tell you the truth, I think it might do you some good, too.”

Abby’s hand trembled as she reached for her cup. She gulped some tea and scalded her lips. “Ouch!”