The Quilter's Daughter (9 page)

“I don’t believe I know you,” the woman said, tipping her head toward Abby.

“I’m Abby Miller—Fannie’s daughter.”

“Jah, jah. Your mamm’s mentioned you, but I’m new to the community and haven’t met you before.” She extended her hand. “I’m Irma Hochstetler. My husband, Sam, and I moved here from Indiana a few months ago with our little girl, Katie. Sam’s a painter, and he’s been workin’ for Jacob Weaver. But Sam’s not home yet. If he were, he’d be out looking for our little
schtinker
, who likes to wander off.” Irma glanced around the yard. “I’ve caught Katie over here several times, playing in the barn or bothering Mary Ann, so I’m hoping that’s where she is now.”

“Mary Ann’s in the kitchen setting the table for supper,” Abby said. “If your daughter did wander over, maybe we should take a look in the barn.”

Irma nodded. “That’s a good idea.”

Abby led the way, and Irma followed. Inside the barn, they called Katie’s name and searched in every nook and cranny. Abby
was afraid to think of the outcome if the child wasn’t found. She knew the little girl’s mother was equally frightened, because Irma’s voice trembled as she continued to call Katie’s name.

“I think we should get some others to help us look,” Abby suggested. “Maybe Katie wandered up the road to someone else’s farm.”

Irma nodded, and tears splashed onto her cheeks. “I’ll never forgive myself if anything happens to my daughter. I should have been watchin’ her closer—shouldn’t have let her play in the yard alone, not even for a few minutes.”

Abby gave Irma a reassuring hug, even though she didn’t feel so confident right now. What if the child had been kidnapped? Could the same thing have happened to little Katie as happened to Abraham’s boy, Zach? “Why don’t you go back to your house in case Katie comes home?” she suggested. “I’ll run out to the fields and see if I can enlist the help of Abraham and his sons.”

Irma’s chin quivered. “Jah, I’ll appreciate all the help I can get.”

As Abby headed into the fields, she sent up a prayer for Katie and one for Zach Fisher. Mom rarely mentioned him in her letters anymore, but she felt sure the boy’s family had not forgotten him.

Abby had only made it halfway across the alfalfa field when she saw a small figure zigzagging her way. When she came upon the little blond-haired girl, she knew immediately that it must be Katie Hochstetler.

“Danki, Lord,” Abby murmured. At least one of her prayers had been answered, and now she could take the little girl home, gather up the quilts that were on the fence, and return to the house knowing Katie’s parents wouldn’t have to suffer the way the Fishers had for so many years.

A
bby could hardly believe she had been in Pennsylvania a whole month. She supposed the time had swept by so quickly because of her busyness. She had been working at her mother’s quilt shop five days a week, and when she wasn’t there, she was at home with Mom, making sure everything ran smoothly and offering her assistance whenever it was needed. Each night, Abby fell wearily into bed, often forgetting to pray or read her Bible. She’d been negligent about writing letters to Lester and Deborah, too, which she had been reminded of today when a letter from Lester arrived. With a pang of regret, Abby took a seat on the edge of her bed and reread his note.

Dear Abby,

It’s been almost two weeks since I’ve heard from you. I hope it’s only because you’ve been busy and not because you’ve forgotten me. If things slow up at the blacksmith shop, I may catch a bus and come there for a few days. I miss you so much and feel the need to spend time with you. It would be nice to meet Abraham and his family, too.

Mom says she hasn’t heard from you in a while, either. She wanted me to tell you that everything is going well at the quilt shop. Lately, there have been a lot of tourists in town, but that’s pretty normal for summertime, I suppose.

Please write soon, and tell your mamm I’m prayin’ for her and hope she’s doin’ okay. Mom says she’s prayin’, too.

Always yours,
Lester
            

Abby hurried to her dresser and retrieved her writing paper and a pen. Tonight she would write Lester a letter, no matter how tired she felt. She loved Lester with all her heart and didn’t want him to think she’d forgotten him.

She had just finished her letter to Lester and sealed the envelope when someone rapped on the door. “Abby, are you still awake?”

“Jah. Please, come in.”

The door opened and Nancy entered the room, wearing a white cotton nightgown that brushed her slender ankles. The girl’s golden brown hair hung loosely down her back, and its shiny luster offered proof that it had recently been brushed. “I hope I’m not disturbin’ you, but I’d like to talk awhile, if it’s all right.”

Abby patted the edge of her bed. “Come have a seat, and tell me what’s on your mind.”

Nancy sat down with a groan. “It’s Fannie’s cousin.”

“Edna?”

“Jah.”

“What about her? Is Edna sick or something?”

“No, but she sure is bossy. The woman’s always tellin’ me what to do and complainin’ because I don’t do things exactly the way she wants ’em done.” Nancy’s forehead wrinkled. “Things were goin’ along fine until she started coming over to help out. Can’t you send her away, Abby?”

Abby knew her young stepsister was quite capable and probably felt like a failure in Edna’s eyes. Even though she didn’t know her mother’s cousin well, from what Mom had said, she knew Edna was pleasant and liked to kid around. Maybe she was only funning with Nancy when she said or did certain things. The girl might be overly sensitive in that regard.

Abby took Nancy’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “It’s possible that Edna doesn’t think you’re incompetent. Maybe she’s just teasing when she makes little irritating comments.”

Nancy pursed her lips. “Why would she do that? Can’t she see how hard I work? Doesn’t she realize I’m doin’ the best I can?”

“I’m sure she does. My advice is to simply ignore Cousin Edna’s remarks.”

“You think if I didn’t try to stand up for myself, things would go better?”

Ah, so that was the problem. Everything Edna said to Nancy was going against the grain, and the girl defended herself in return.

“Edna is older and wiser than you, Nancy,” Abby said. “You’ve been taught to show consideration for your elders, isn’t that right?”

Nancy’s reply was a quick nod.

“Even if Edna’s comments aren’t meant in jest, you should never argue with her; it’s not the respectful thing to do.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“I think it’s Edna you should apologize to, don’t you?”

“Jah. I’ll do that when she shows up tomorrow.”

“And you’ll try harder to ignore the things she says that get under your skin?”

“Uh-huh.”

Abby gave her stepsister a hug. “I’m proud of you. Being willing to apologize shows how mature you’ve become.”

“Danki.” Nancy stood and started for the door, but turned back around. “Abby?”

“What is it?”

“I know you’ll have to return to Ohio after the boppli comes, but if I had my way, you’d stay with us forever.”

Abby smiled, wishing it were possible to be in two places at once.
At least I’ll sleep well tonight,
she mused.
I’ve written Lester a letter and had a heart-to-heart talk with Nancy. Tomorrow will be a good day.

A mysterious dark cloud hovered over Abby Miller’s bed, pressing on her from all sides. Blinking against stinging tears, she drew in a ragged breath. An invisible hand pushed against her face, and she flung her covers aside. “
Ich kann nimmi schnaufe
—I can no longer breathe!”

Meow. Meow.
Somewhere in the distance, Abby heard the pathetic cry and knew she must save the poor kitten. With a
panicked sob, she rolled out of bed, but the minute her bare feet touched the floor she shrank back from the intense heat. A paralyzing fear wrapped its arms around Abby, threatening to strip away her sanity. She lifted her hands to her face and rubbed her eyes, forcing them to focus. “Where are you, kitty? I’m coming, kitty.”

Suddenly, she realized that her room was engulfed in flames—lapping at the curtains, snapping, crackling, consuming everything in sight. As the smoky haze grew thicker and the fire became an inferno, Abby grabbed the Lone Star quilt off her bed and covered her head. Coughing, choking, gasping on the acrid smoke, she stumbled and staggered toward the door. “
Feier
—fire! Somebody, please help me save the kitten!”

Abby’s eyes flew open as she sucked in a shallow breath. She was drenched in sweat, and her throat felt raw, as though she’d been screaming. She glanced around the room and, seeing everything was as it should be, realized she had only been dreaming. “It was that same horrible dream about a fire,” she moaned.

Abby clambered out of bed and raced over to the window. She lifted the dark shade and jerked the window open, breathing deeply of the early morning air. The sun peeked over the horizon, its delicate shades of pink graduating into a fiery red. A burst of air swept suddenly into the room, and she shivered. “Oh, Lord, why do I continue to have that awful dream?”

Abraham stood outside the barn door, stretching his arms over his head and suppressing a yawn. He’d lain awake into the wee hours last night worrying about Fannie. Most days she had dark circles under her eyes, and her ankles were still slightly puffy, even though she had been following the doctor’s orders and resting much of the time. He had heard of women who developed toxemia during their pregnancy and knew it could be serious. When he’d mentioned his concerns to Fannie last night, she’d made light of it, saying she had cut salt out of her
diet and was sure that would help the swelling.

“If it doesn’t, I’m takin’ her back to the doctor,” Abraham mumbled.

“What was that, Papa?” Matthew asked as he led one of their mules out of the barn.

Abraham’s face heated. “Nothin’. I was talkin’ to myself.”

“You said something about going to the doctor. Does Fannie have another appointment today?”

“No, but I’ll be takin’ her in if she don’t look better in a few days.”

“Is she lookin’ poorly?”

Abraham leaned against the side of the barn and groaned. “Haven’t ya noticed the dark circles under her eyes?”