The Quilter's Daughter
Page 27
Naomi started for the front door, and Abby figured she was heading for the barn where the men had gone after supper. Her hand touched the doorknob, but suddenly she whirled around. “I can’t show Papa the quilt. Not now. Maybe not ever.”
“Why not?”
“He’s been through so much over the years, I won’t see him hurt again. This would only get his hopes up.” Naomi flopped back into her chair, draping the quilt over her knees. “Even if Zach is living out west, we have no idea in which city or who his kidnapper is. Zach’s not a baby anymore, either. He would be seven years old by now. Why, he could walk right up to us and we probably wouldn’t even know it was him.”
“I’m sorry for upsetting you,” Abby apologized. “Maybe it would have been better if I hadn’t given you the quilt.”
“No, no, I’m glad you did.” Naomi buried her face in the quilt. “It might be hard to understand, but holding this actually brings me comfort.”
“Are you sure about not telling your daed?”
Naomi stood. “Someday, maybe. For now I’ll keep it in my boppli’s room as a reminder that somewhere my little bruder is still living among the English and I need to keep praying for him.”
Abby nodded. “I’ll be praying, too.”
“I’m going to the kitchen to get a paper sack to put the quilt in, so none of the others will see it.”
“Do you want to put it back in my suitcase for now?”
“That’s a good idea.” Naomi placed the quilt inside the suitcase, shut the lid, and then hurried from the room.
A few seconds later, Matthew showed up. “Whew, it’s still mighty warm out there. Looks like we’re in for some hot weather.” He wiped the perspiration from his forehead and smiled at Abby. “Before this summer’s over, you might wish you had stayed in Montana where it’s cooler.”
“I don’t think so.” She patted the cushion beside her. “Have a seat.”
He grinned, and his ears turned pink. She had embarrassed him again, but that was okay. The fact that Matthew blushed so easily was part of who he was, and she rather liked it.
“How’d you like to go on a picnic with me one day next week?” he asked, lowering himself to the couch. “That is, if you’re feelin’ up to it.”
“I’d like it fine, and I’m sure I’ll be feeling good enough to go.” Abby chuckled. “Of course, you’ll probably have to bring a chair for me to sit in. It might be easy enough for me to drop to the ground, but gettin’ back up would be a lot harder.”
Matthew reached over and took her hand, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze. “Why don’t you let me worry about that?”
Abby leaned against the sofa cushions and sighed. I know my faith has been tried and withstood the flames. And regardless of what happens with Zach, the Fisher family, or between Matthew and me, I’m confident that God will see us through.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Wanda E. Brunstetter enjoys writing about the Amish because they live a peaceful, simple life. Wanda’s interest in the Amish and other Plain communities began when she married her husband, Richard, who grew up in a Mennonite church in Pennsylvania. Wanda has made numerous trips to Lancaster County and has several friends and family members living near that area. She and her husband have also traveled to other parts of the country, meeting various Amish families and getting to know them personally. She hopes her readers will learn to love the wonderful Amish people as much as she does.
Wanda and her husband, Richard, have been married forty-two years. They have two grown children and six grandchildren. In her spare time, Wanda enjoys reading, ventriloquism, gardening, stamping, and having fun with her family.
Wanda has written several novels, novellas, stories, articles, poems, and puppet scripts.
To learn more about Wanda, visit her Web site at www.wandabrunstetter.com and feel free to e-mail her at wanda@wandabrunstetter.com.