Why else would she be there but to see him?
Garrett pushed his chair back. “Will you kindly excuse me for a moment?” He waited for Junior to translate. When the boy’s parents nodded, Garrett walked to the table in the corner and removed his hat.
“Mrs. Milburn.”
“Mr. Cowlishaw. Do you have a moment?” She motioned to the empty chair opposite her.
He seated himself. He hadn’t seen her since they’d agreed he wasn’t a vindictive man. “You came to see me?”
“I did.” Her sly smile added a shine to her emerald-green eyes.
Had she come to try her charms to get him to change his mind? Would he be able to resist? Did he really want to?
She tilted her head a tad. “The Kamden family came to see me at the store.”
That didn’t sound the least bit threatening, or of any concern to him. “Is there a problem with the supplies? Johann said he ordered in all the dry goods. If something hasn’t arrived, I’m sure—”
“Ian Kamden asked me to go with them.”
“Go with them?”
She nodded toward the west, bobbing a fiery red curl at her forehead.
“West? With them?”
“They have two wagons. I would go as their nanny to help with the children and, well, the elder Mrs. Kamden.”
“I think that’s a fine idea.”
“You do?” Her lips curved into a small O and seemed frozen there.
“I do.”
Her smile faded. “You don’t want to argue about a single woman traveling through the scary wilderness?”
He shook his head. “And your sister? What does she say about this plan?”
Caroline shifted in the chair. “It wasn’t so much what Jewell said, but what she didn’t say that pierced my heart.”
Garrett had met the ill-tempered Jack Rafferty and had no problem imagining the desperation his wife must feel in losing her sister to the west.
The beguiling redhead drew a deep breath, drawing his heart in with it. “Needless to say, my sister doesn’t like the idea. But she understands that I must establish a new life … a life of my own. At least, I have to hope she does.”
He nodded. “And how did your nieces and nephew take the news?”
Tears pooled her eyes. “I will tell Mary, Cora, and Gilbert after supper.” She blinked hard and straightened. “I have to do this.”
“Very well then,” Garrett said. “I’m glad you’re going. Seems to me that you’ve secured for yourself the means required to make the trip. So, a trip you shall make.”
“Yes, I shall.” She stood, and so did he.
Now, the burden of guilt he was wont to carry for leaving her to her fate could be lifted.
A remarkable company indeed—Germans, Scots, French, Italians, and one unpredictable redhead.
Excitement swirled around Caroline as she carried a tray of chilled apple cider into the dining room, the room’s seams about to burst. On this last Thursday of March, Mrs. Brantenberg’s Saint Charles quilting circle had convened for one last time. Their hostess had called the children in to join them for a celebration. Mary and Gabi stood at one corner of the table working their patchwork dolls like puppets, their giggles sinking deep into Caroline’s soul. The elder Mrs. Beck and her daughter-in-law conversed with Emilie while Hattie and Bette Pemberton engaged in an animated conversation with Mabel Webber. Maren held Jewell’s hands, speaking with her in hushed tones.
Those who were going west mingled with those they were leaving behind.
The Beck women seemed the easiest to separate. “Pardon me, ladies,” Caroline said. Irene and Lorelei parted like the Red Sea, allowing Caroline access to the table. She set her tray down, and Anna had managed to do the same at the other end, with a second tray.
Mrs. Brantenberg seated herself, then set her Bible and the stack of quilting squares on the table in front of her. When she clapped her hands, the chatter quieted and the chairs quickly filled, including the extras they’d placed on the perimeter. That’s where Jewell settled and pulled Mary onto her lap.
Fanning the quilting squares on the table, Mrs. Brantenberg pressed her lips together as if to hold back tears. She’d made a Shoo-Fly doll square in remembrance of her daughter, Gretchen, and for the joy of her granddaughter, Gabi. Anna honored her brother, Dedrick, with a Soldier’s Cot square. Mrs. Pemberton’s Remembrances square peeked out from under Maren’s. On her Double Hourglass square, Maren had embroidered “Our times are in God’s hands” above her new name—Maren Wainwright. Emilie had chosen a red and green Special Blessings pattern for her square.
“In my lifetime, I’ve said many hellos and many good-byes.” Their beloved hostess tucked a spray of white hair into the braid circling her head, then looked around the room. “We all have. No matter our age. Life’s changing seasons are as persistent as the ripples along the shore.”
Caroline nodded in accord with Anna and Mrs. Webber.
Mrs. Brantenberg moistened her lips. “While parting will be difficult, I’m so thankful God brought us together for a season.”
“I am too.” Hattie glanced at Caroline, then to Mrs. Webber. “For our seasons of sorrow.”
Maren turned her tender gaze toward Mrs. Brantenberg. “For seasons of joy.”
“For seasons of planting.” Mrs. Brantenberg looked out the window, toward the apple orchard.
“For seasons of harvest.” The dreaminess in Emilie’s voice reminded Caroline that Emilie and Quaid had reunited here on this farm during the apple harvest.
Hattie pressed her hands over her heart, her hat wobbling as she giggled.
Smiling, Mrs. Brantenberg opened her Bible. “The Lord has quilted our hearts together in those seasons of love and loss, sorrow and joy.”
A round of gentle nods circled the room.
Mrs. Pemberton set her weathered hands on the table. “And now we are in a season of plucking and uprooting.”
“Yes.” Mrs. Brantenberg nodded, her lips pressed together. “In two short weeks, most of us will set out on a long journey to rebuild our lives farther west.”
Emilie snatched Maren’s hand. “While a few of us will remain to see Saint Charles rebuilt.”
“Yes.” Mrs. Webber looked at Emilie. “I’m moving into town to work in Heinrich’s Dry Goods and Grocery.”
Caroline gave the woman a broad smile, supported by relief. “That is good news. I had only just started my job there when it worked out for me to leave with the Kamdens.”
Emilie nodded. “We will miss you, Caroline, but we are all seeing God at work in this change of seasons.” She looked at Mrs. Brantenberg. “Quaid and I are buying this farm.”
They all looked at Mrs. Brantenberg, who nodded and smiled.
“That’s wonderful!” Jewell shifted Mary on her lap.
“It is indeed a blessing. It pleases me so to know that our dear Emilie will raise her family here.” Mrs. Brantenberg looked at Maren. “The four of us will move into town until our exodus day.”
“We move into the house this weekend.” Sheer joy lit Emilie’s brown eyes.
Jewell cleared her throat. “Emilie, will you continue the quilting circle for those of us who remain?”
“What a splendid idea.” Mrs. Brantenberg’s eyebrows arched as she pinned Emilie with a questioning gaze.
“I suppose I could. With help.”
Jewell nodded. A heartwarming smile curved her mouth.
Emilie’s eyes widened. “Let’s continue.” She looked at Mrs. Webber, then to Jewell. “We can recruit other women looking for sisterhood in the seasons of their lives.”
Mrs. Brantenberg wiped a tear from her cheek.
“There’s still more news,” Anna said.
Hattie jumped. “You’ve given Boney an answer?”
Blushing, Anna shook her head. “I’ll see him Saturday. But it is good news that Jewell is taking over my candle making.”
“I help Mama.” Mary beamed.
“The chil
dren are excited to help.” Jewell lifted a teasing eyebrow. “Thankfully, Anna will be showing us all how to make her pretty-colored candles before she leaves.”
Again, Caroline’s heart warmed. Jewell had chosen to remain with her husband who hadn’t changed, but Caroline was seeing God provide for Jewell in other ways.
“We are seeing God’s grace at work.” Mrs. Brantenberg lifted her Bible from the table. Pointing a gnarled finger to a page, she began reading. “He giveth more grace.”
Tears stung the backs of Caroline’s eyes.
Wherefore he saith, God resisteth the proud, but giveth grace unto the humble. Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Draw nigh to God, and he will draw nigh to you.
Because of Caroline’s involvement in this group, the teaching from James was now familiar to her … had become her prayer. A prayer God had answered in a surprising way, against all odds. Or at the least, against Garrett Cowlishaw’s judgment. She was counted among those joining the wagon train company.
She joined the other women in reciting the verse that had become their theme that year. “Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and he shall lift you up.”
Mrs. Brantenberg nodded toward Maren, Gabi’s new mama.
“Today we have gathered in celebration of the Lord’s good work.” Maren picked up a glass of cider and passed it to her left, doing so until everyone had a glass, including the children. Caroline wrapped her hand around the coolness, breathing in the sweet scent of apple.
Mrs. Brantenberg raised her glass first. “In celebration of the Lord of all of our seasons.”
“To the Lord of our quilted hearts.” Tears streamed Jewell’s face.
Nodding, Caroline blinked back her own tears. “To the Lord of our journey … here and there.”
Author’s Note
The Historic Main Street District of Saint Charles, Missouri, charmed me during my first visit in 1999. My return in 2012 deepened my fascination with its rich historical past and modern-day charm.
Thank you for joining me on The Quilted Heart adventures with Mrs. Brantenberg’s quilting circle in Saint Charles, Missouri, a city brimming with compelling real-life characters and historical institutions like the Lindenwood Female College, now known as Lindenwood University.
I enjoy featuring actual cities and places in my books, but in keeping with my commitment as a storyteller of historical fiction, I’m required to play with facts and actual locations to best meet the needs of my stories.
The unusual letter ß (esszet) you see in the word, Großvater, translated as Grandfather, is the letter used for the double S sound in the German language.
Please plan now to join me in my next series, Hearts Seeking Home. Are you ready to roll your covered wagon into line with mine? Will we enter the Promised Land, or will we leave it behind?
I look forward to our time together discovering the width and depths of our true home. Until then … love and hugs.
Your friend,
Mona
Acknowledgments
Many people rallied around me in the various stages of this story.
• My hubby, Bob, who takes care of everything else
• My agent, Janet Kobobel Grant of Books & Such Literary Agency
• My editors, Shannon Hill Marchese and Karen Ball
• The entire WaterBrook Multnomah–Random House team
• Dorris Keeven-Franke, archivist, Saint Charles County Historical Society
• Carol M. Felzien, director of communication, Greater Saint Charles Convention & Visitors Bureau
• My prayer partners
A big thank-you to all who are listed, and to all who aren’t, for making it possible for me to accomplish my dream of writing novels for you.
Now unto the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only wise
God, be honour and glory for ever and ever. Amen.
—1 Timothy 1:17
About the Author
Mona Hodgson is the author of The Sinclair Sisters of Cripple Creek series, Dandelions on the Wind, Bending Toward the Sun, and nearly thirty children’s books. Her writing credits also include hundreds of articles, poems, and short stories in more than fifty different periodicals, including Highlights for Children, Focus on the Family, Decision, Clubhouse Jr., The Upper Room, The Quiet Hour, and the Christian Communicator. Mona speaks at women’s retreats, schools, and conferences for librarians, educators, and writers and is a regular columnist on the Bustles and Spurs Blog.
Mona and Bob, her husband of forty-one years, have two adult daughters, two sons-in-law, and a gaggle of grandchildren.
Learn more about Mona, find readers’ guides for your book club, and view her photo album of current day Saint Charles, Missouri, at Mona’s website: MonaHodgson.com.
You can also find Mona here:
Facebook at www.facebook.com/pages/Mona-Hodgson-Author-Page/114199561939095
Twitter at www.twitter.com/monahodgson
Pinterest at http://pinterest.com/monahodgson/pins/
And be sure to follow her on Hindsight by Mona Hodgson at
http://monahodgson.wordpress.com.
OTHER BOOKS BY MONA HODGSON
HISTORICAL FICTION
The Quilted Heart Novellas
Dandelions on the Wind
Bending Toward the Sun
The Sinclair Sisters of Cripple Creek
Two Brides Too Many
Too Rich for a Bride
The Bride Wore Blue
Twice a Bride
CHILDREN’S BOOKS
Bedtime in the Southwest (Northland Publishing)
Real Girls of the Bible: A 31-Day Devotional (Zonderkidz)
The Princess Twins and the Puppy (Zonderkidz I Can Read)
The Princess Twins Play in the Garden (Zonderkidz I Can Read)
The Princess Twins and the Tea Party (Zonderkidz I Can Read)
The Princess Twins and the Birthday Party (Zonderkidz I Can Read)
The Best Breakfast (Zonderkidz I Can Read)
Thank You, God, for Rain (Zonderkidz I Can Read)
For a complete and current listing of Mona’s books, including any out-of-print titles she may still have available, please visit her website at MonaHodgson.com.
Continue the Quilted Hearts journey!
Also look for the first novel in the
Hearts Seeking Home series,
coming Summer 2013!
Two sisters.
Two missing misters.
Kat and Nell Sinclair are headed west—away from the manicured lawns of Maine to the boisterous, booming mining town of Cripple Creek, Colorado to start new lives for themselves as mail-order brides. But when they arrive, neither fiancé is there, leaving both sisters questioning their dreams and the hope for true love.
Read an excerpt from this book and more on
WaterBrookMultnomah.com!
Ida wants a career, not a husband.
But her sisters and God have other plans.
Ida Sinclair joins her sisters Kat and Nell in Cripple Creek. As the business-savvy Sinclair sister, Ida has never wanted to settle down. Instead of love, she craves success. But while searching for one, she just might find the other.
Read an excerpt from this book and more on
WaterBrookMultnomah.com!
She’s ashamed of her past and has no faith in her future. Or grace.
Vivian has made one bad decision too many and now she’s looking for a fresh start. But between the lies about her past and the lies about the present, there’s no room to accept help—or love—from her sisters or anyone else. Not even from that interesting sheriff’s deputy who has his eye on her.
Read an excerpt from this book and more on
WaterBrookMultnomah.com!
Good can come from brokenness.
Young widow Willow Peterson is determined to pursue art and romance in bustling Cripple Creek, Colorado. Can a handsome photographer mend her heart and give her a t
rue home? And can Willow’s landlady, Miss Hattie, get a second chance at love in the second half of her life?
Read an excerpt from this book and more on
WaterBrookMultnomah.com!
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