A Wild Goose Chase Christmas: Quilts of Love Series

by Jennifer AlLee

  “No. It was wrapped around a necklace. And there was a letter too.”

  “None of this makes sense.” Max paced around the room as if sheer force of movement could help him solve the puzzle. “Why would she send us both pieces of fabric that look like they came from the quilt?”

  “I’m certain they’re not from the quilt. If they were, they’d show more wear. At the very least, there’d be stitch marks.”

  “That’s true. But in the letter, she said we both have mending to do. What if the quilt was damaged and she wanted us to repair it?”

  Izzy shook her head. “If that were the case, she could have sent the pieces to you. Why send one to each of us?”

  “It seems she wanted us to work together.”

  If that’s what Gran wanted, then she had achieved her goal. “OK, then what do we do next?”

  “We need to take a look at the quilt.”

  “Now?” The question was unnecessary because he’d already removed his jacket from the coatrack in the corner.

  “Now.” He must have realized how pushy he sounded, because he took a literal step backward. “If it’s OK with you, I’d like to come to your home to look at the quilt. And I’d like to see the letter Mrs. Randolph sent you.”

  All Izzy really wanted to do was spend a quiet night curled up in front of the fireplace with a good book. But with Mom at home, there was no chance of that happening.

  “You can come over. I can’t promise you my mother will be happy to have company though.”

  “Maybe she’ll be asleep.”

  “I should be so lucky. Come on.” She headed for the door, motioning for him to follow.

  Izzy waited on the porch as Max parked his car on the street. It probably would have been better to go in first and make sure it was safe to bring him inside but she wanted to put off entering the house as long as possible.

  She closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling the crisp fall air. Somewhere, a lone cricket chirped, bidding the sun goodnight and welcoming the evening. It was all so peaceful. And so temporary.

  At the sound of a car door slamming, she opened her eyes. Max walked up the steep driveway, shoulders hunched and hands in his pockets. Stopping at the bottom of the porch steps, he tilted his head back, examining the house.

  “This place is something else,” he said. “How old is it?”

  “Over a hundred years.”

  “I’ll bet it could tell some pretty amazing stories.”

  “And every one of them about my family. Gran’s in-laws built the house, then she and Grandpa inherited it.”

  Max climbed the stairs, stopping at the top to run his hand along the gray stone half-wall that enclosed the porch. “Is it yours now?”

  Izzy nodded. “I’d lived here with Gran for years anyway. When she decided to move to Vibrant Vistas, she had my name put on the deed.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “What did your mother say about that?”

  “I’ll spare you the details. Let’s just say it gave her one more thing to add to my list of transgressions.”

  Max’s face softened and Izzy wished she could snatch back her words. She didn’t want him feeling sorry for her. Hoping to erase that emotion, she rushed on. “After I graduated college, Gran’s health started going downhill, so she invited me to move in with her.”

  “Not a lot of people would do that.”

  “It wasn’t a totally selfless decision. I came to help her but it also saved me money. Turns out it was the best decision of my life. We made a lot of memories here.” Her voice caught in her throat and a thousand pinpricks assaulted her nose. “So to answer your question, yes. This is a house with lots of stories. And most of them are wonderful.”

  Max stepped forward, his eyes reflecting nothing close to pity. “Am I going to have to offer you my handkerchief again?”

  She pursed her lips and shook her head sharply, fighting against the moistness in her eyes. “I don’t know why I keep doing this. I’m not a crier. But every time I’m around you, I turn into a soggy mess.”

  One corner of his mouth slid up into a teasing grin. “I certainly hope I don’t move you to tears.”

  Far from it. With one knuckle, Izzy dabbed at the corners of her eyes. “It’s not you. It’s Gran.”

  Max bobbed his head, his expression serious. “Your grandmother was quite a woman. I miss her, too, but it’s good to be able to talk about her, to share her memory with someone.”

  “It is.”

  “I think she knew we’d need each other.”

  Max’s hand rested on her shoulder and Izzy froze. The conversation had taken quite a personal turn. It was unexpected. It was a little scary. And it was intriguing.

  “What do you mean?” she asked through lips that were suddenly dry.

  “I keep wondering why she promised the quilt to both of us. She obviously wanted us to work together. But I think she knew you’d need someone to talk to, someone to support you.”

  She looked into his eyes. “Is that the answer to the question?”

  “What question?”

  “At the funeral, in the prayer garden. I asked why you were being so nice to me. Is that why? Because Gran wanted you to?”

  His hand moved to the base of her neck, his fingers tangling into her hair. “I admit, we got off to a rocky start. But I’m finding it impossible not to be nice to you.”

  He leaned in closer, and for one breath-robbing moment she thought he was going to kiss her. Then the porch light flashed on, rapid-fire barks exploded from inside the house, and the front door rattled. She and Max jumped away from each other. A moment later, Brandon stepped out onto the porch.

  “It’s about time you got back,” he said to Izzy. “I didn’t expect you to bring someone with you.” He addressed Max. “Have we met?”

  “I’m Max—”

  “From the hospital. Right.” His tone made it clear he was done with Max and he turned back to Izzy. “We’ve got to talk. Come on.”

  “Brandon, you’re being rude.” Izzy’s cheeks, already burning from her interrupted moment with Max, flamed hotter at her brother’s lack of manners. “I invited Max over for a reason. Whatever you have to talk to me about can wait.”

  Brandon’s eyes narrowed. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with that valuable item you two were talking about at the hospital, would it?”

  Max drew his shoulders back. “Yes, it does.”

  “Then I have a feeling we all want to talk about the same thing.” Brandon headed into the house and called back to them. “Both of you, come in.”

  “I’m sorry about this,” Izzy said to Max.

  He ducked his head for a moment. “No need to be sorry. I can’t wait to find out what’s got him so worked up.”

  Izzy was pretty sure once they got inside and Brandon started talking, Max would wish he had waited longer.

  11

  Brandon might be rude and boorish, but right now Max felt like he owed him one. If not for his timely interruption, Max would have kissed Izzy.

  What was wrong with him? Max had never been one to rush into things, especially where relationships were concerned. He couldn’t deny his attraction to Izzy. During the short time he’d known her, she’d worked her way under his skin. But their relationship, if you could call it that, was largely professional. They hadn’t even gone on a date. What made him think he had any right to kiss her?

  Of course, she hadn’t objected when he drew closer. If anything, she’d seemed as immersed in the moment as he was. But that could just be because of her heightened emotional state. No matter how strong she acted, he had to remember she was in a raw, fragile place. To pursue anything deeper or more personal right now would be taking advantage of her.

  Blowing out a deep breath, Max followed her into the house. Brandon stood to one side; her mother lay across the couch, her right arm and leg propped up by a variety of pillows. And Izzy faced them, one fist planted on her hip while she motioned wildly with the other hand.<
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  “What made you think you could go through my stuff while I was gone?” Her voice was unfamiliar, with a hard, angry edge. This was a side of Izzy he hadn’t seen before.

  Max looked in the direction she pointed, and understood. Dumped on an easy chair was the Wild Goose Chase quilt. Most of it was balled up on the seat, but the edges hung over the side, trailing on the floor. A spark ignited in his gut. He wanted to share a few choice words with Brandon, but he held back. This was Izzy’s home, it was her fight, and she needed to take the lead.

  For his part, Brandon was unfazed by his sister’s anger. “I think a better question is, why are you hiding things from me and Mom?”

  “I wasn’t hiding anything. The quilt was in my room.”

  Janice shifted on the couch. “But you never told us about it.

  Just like you never told me about the necklace.”

  Izzy’s hands fells to her sides and her shoulders slumped. “Mom, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the necklace. But I didn’t keep it a secret, either.” She glanced at Brandon. “Is that what this is all about? Did she tell you to snoop in my room to see what else you could find?”

  Brandon sneered. “No. The snooping was all my idea.”

  Max didn’t enjoy being an audience to their family drama. The best thing would be if he excused himself right now. But he’d come there to examine the quilt for damage, a task that was even more important now that he knew Brandon had been manhandling it.

  Toenails clicked on the floor and Max caught sight of Izzy’s dog headed straight for the quilt. The terrier stopped, then looked up at Max. It was like the dog dared Max to stop him.

  “Why?” Izzy asked Brandon. “What were you looking for?”

  The dog took another step. Max locked eyes with him.

  Brandon shrugged. “You never did tell me what the valuable thing was that you talked about at the hospital. So I decided to find out for myself.”

  “It was a gift from Gran.” Exhaustion colored Izzy’s words. “That’s what makes it valuable.”

  Brandon shook his head. “Either you’re playing stupid or you’re naive.”

  The insult got Max’s attention and he took his eyes off the dog. Max opened his mouth to defend Izzy but stopped short at the sound of clattering nails on the wood. The dog had reached his destination.

  “No!” It took two large steps for Max to get to the dog and scoop him off the quilt. The terrier yapped up a storm. In a second, Izzy was at his side.

  “Et tu, Bogie?” She looked up at Max as she removed the squirming ball of fur from his arms. “Sorry about that.”

  Brandon jerked his chin toward Max. “He knows just how valuable the quilt is. Don’t you?”

  “Historically, it’s of great importance,” Max said.

  “Historically, huh?” Brandon picked up something from the end table beside him. “According to these, the quilt …” he scanned the pages, then read from one, “holds the key to a great treasure.”

  Max’s heart sank. He was certain Mrs. Randolph had been speaking of a metaphorical treasure, but there’d be no way to convince Brandon of that. He’d seen this kind of power struggle before when one family member wanted to donate an item to the museum over the objections of others. Even though Izzy was the owner of the quilt, her family could put up enough a fuss to keep it out of his hands for a good long time.

  Still holding Bogie in one arm, Izzy snatched the letters from her brother with her free hand. “You had no right to read these. They’re private from Gran to me.”

  “A lot of stuff went from Gran to you.”

  That statement explained a lot. Izzy’s brother was jealous. From the scowl on her mother’s face, Max was certain she shared the feeling.

  “This is ridiculous.” Izzy started to put the dog down but stopped and motioned to Max. “Would you please take care of the quilt?”

  Brandon took a step toward Max. “Wait a minute. What does your boyfriend have to do with it?”

  Color bled across Izzy’s cheeks. “He’s not my boyfriend. Max is the director of the California Pioneer Museum. He wants to feature the quilt in an exhibit.”

  Max held his breath. Don’t tell him about the loan.

  “And I’m going to let him.”

  Max groaned. Janice mumbled something under her breath. Brandon laughed outright. “No way. The quilt is a family heirloom. It doesn’t go anywhere unless the family agrees.”

  “You have no control over this, Brandon. It’s my decision to make, and I’ve made it.”

  Max admired her gumption. He also knew she wasn’t going to win the fight tonight. The best thing to do now was to let everyone retreat to their own corners and cool down.

  “Izzy.” He kept his voice low and firm, letting her know he required her attention. “I need help to refold the quilt without damaging it.”

  She looked at him, lower lip clamped between her teeth. Though she struggled to control her emotions, this time there were no tears in sight. This time it looked like she was fighting to keep from hitting somebody.

  “Let’s take it in my room. That way, we can have some privacy.”

  As carefully as possible, he gathered the quilt in his arms and followed her down the hall. As he laid the bundle on her bed, the absurdity of the situation hit him. In the last twenty minutes, he’d almost kissed her and now he was alone with her in her bedroom. It was a first, no doubt about it.

  Not that romance was on either of their minds at the moment. If the set of her jaw and the blue electricity snapping in her eyes was any indication, she was ready to go to war. Max was glad that, for the time being, they were fighting on the same side.

  “I can’t believe they would do something like that.” Izzy paced back and forth across the short length of her room, berating herself for what had just happened. In all actuality, she should have expected it. She’d thought if she avoided Brandon’s questions at the hospital, he’d forget about the mysterious valuable object. But when Brandon smelled money, he was tenacious. In the absence of her answers, he’d decided to find his own.

  “Izzy.”

  The warm rumble of Max’s voice stopped her. In her agitation, she’d nearly forgotten he was there. He leaned against her dresser, arms crossed over his chest, brows furrowed, discomfort etched across his face.

  “I’m sorry.” She ground the heel of her hand into her forehead as she looked at the quilt lying on her bed. “This truly is the only room in the house we could go to and get away from them. I hope you don’t think—”

  “Stop.” His face softened and he pushed away from the dresser. “The only thing I’m thinking is that we’ve still got a mystery to solve and a quilt to examine. As far as I’m concerned, we’re working in your office. Nothing more.”

  Izzy sighed. Her office. Looking at it that way made sense. “OK. So what should we do first?”

  “First we make sure the quilt isn’t damaged. Some of the material is so worn and thin that it could tear from the weight if one person held it up. We need to make sure your brother didn’t do that. And we need to see if any of the pieces are missing.”

  He took something out of his front jacket pocket and tossed it to Izzy. It was a pair of white cotton gloves. “Don’t tell me your mother taught you to carry these around, too?”

  Max laughed. “No. I grabbed them before we left the museum. It’s better for the quilt if we don’t touch it too much with our bare hands. The gloves protect it from dirt and the natural oils in our skin.”

  Izzy was pretty sure the quilt had been touched by bare hands for at least a hundred years before this and it hadn’t destroyed the fabric. Still, Max was the expert, so she slipped on the gloves.

  Carefully, they spread the quilt out on the bed, Izzy on one side and Max on the other. Max was all business, checking each section, running his glove-covered fingertips gently across the stitching. Squatting on the balls of his feet, he examined the dark blue fabric binding the edges. “Fascinating.”


  “What is?”

  “The binding is the same fabric as the back of the quilt.” He carefully pulled up a corner and draped it across the top of the quilt so both the top and the underside showed.

  Izzy leaned in closer. “It looks like the back was made from one large piece of fabric.”

  “It was. From the looks of it, I’d guess it was a horse blanket.”

  “A horse blanket?”

  Max nodded. “Years ago, people were much more resourceful than we are now. They found all kinds of ways to reuse and repurpose things.”

  What would her mother and brother think if she told them their family heirloom was half horse blanket? Would that be enough to convince them they were looking in the wrong place for a cash payout? Highly unlikely.

  Izzy continued looking over the quilt. Though the triangles, which had to represent geese, chased one another in rows along the edges, they angled and turned the closer in they got. The pattern morphed into a jagged vortex coming to a halt in the middle of the quilt where two triangles met at their bases. The result was a faded red diamond marking the end of the journey. Or was it the beginning?

  Max rose to his feet. “It’s a minor miracle, but I don’t think Brandon caused any new damage. And I don’t see any place where the blocks are missing.”

  “Neither did I. But this is a little strange.” She pushed down gently on the red diamond. “These two pieces look newer than the ones around them. And it feels a little lumpy.”

  “Hmm.” Max folded his tall frame over the bed without putting any weight on the quilt. “It’s not as strange as you’d think. Most likely, this was the first section to be worked on. As the quilt was handed down from woman to woman, the pattern emerged from the middle out. Over the course of twenty or so years, the original piece could have been showing wear before the quilt was ready for day-to-day use. It makes sense that this piece would have been replaced.”

  “Twenty years? It might have taken that long to make this quilt?”

  “Or longer. Quilting was never a speedy undertaking.”

  “I can’t imagine working on something for so long.”