© 2013 by Wanda E. Brunstetter
Print ISBN 978-1-61626-086-6
eBook Editions:
Adobe Digital Edition (.epub) 978-1-62416-447-7
Kindle and MobiPocket Edition (.prc) 978-1-62416-446-0
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted for commercial purposes, except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without written permission of the publisher.
All Scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
All German-Dutch words are taken from the Revised Pennsylvania German Dictionary found in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.
Cover photography: Brandon Hill Photos
For more information about Wanda E. Brunstetter, please access the author’s website at the following Internet address: www.wandabrunstetter.com
Published by Barbour Publishing, Inc., P.O. Box 719, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683, www.barbourbooks.com
Our mission is to publish and distribute inspirational products offering exceptional value and biblical encouragement to the masses.
Printed in the United States of America.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Emma’s Apple-Crumb Bread
Discussion Questions
About the Author
DEDICATION
In memory of my mother, Thelma Cumby,
who many years ago gave me her mother’s tattered quilt.
If we love one another, God dwelleth in us,
and his love is perfected in us.
I JOHN 4:12
PROLOGUE
Shipshewana, Indiana
Emma Miller’s husband, Lamar, plunked a bottle of suntan lotion on the kitchen table in front of her and said, “How’d you like to take a little feierdaag and get away from these chilly days we’ve been having this fall?”
Her eyes widened. “You want us to go on a holiday?”
“That’s right. I was thinking we could go down to Florida for a while. We can rent a place in Pinecraft.” Lamar’s green eyes sparkled as he drew his fingers through the ends of his full gray beard. “Just think how nice it would be to spend a little time on the beach.”
Emma patted Lamar’s hand affectionately. “That’s a nice idea, but have you forgotten that I recently placed an ad for another six-week quilting class?”
“Jah, I know, but no one’s answered the ad yet, so maybe you won’t have any students this time.”
Emma took a sip of hot tea. “I suppose that’s a possibility, but I was looking forward to us teaching another class together. Weren’t you, Lamar?”
“Of course; all the classes we’ve taught for the past year and a half have been great.” Lamar leaned closer to Emma and touched her arm. “If no one signs up by the end of the week, will you go to Florida with me?”
Emma mulled things over, then finally nodded. “I suppose it would be nice to get a little sunshine and take some long walks on the beach, but we can’t go until we get our roof fixed,” she quickly added. “With all the rain we’ve had so far this fall, it could start to leak at any time if we don’t get a new roof put on.”
Plink! Plunk! Plink! Three drops of water landed in Emma’s cup. She looked up at the ceiling and groaned. “Oh dear, I spoke too soon. I’m afraid it’s already leaking.”
“Not to worry.” Lamar gave Emma a wide smile. “I called your roofer friend, Jan Sweet, and he and his coworker will start in on it next week.”
Emma reached for her husband’s calloused hand and gave his long fingers a tender squeeze. “Is it any wonder I said jah when you asked me to marry you? You’re such a schmaert man.”
“And you, Emma dear, are the best wife any man could want.” Lamar leaned over and kissed Emma, causing her cheeks to warm. Even after more than a year of marriage, he could still make her blush.
CHAPTER 1
Middlebury, Indiana
Anna Lambright wanted her freedom. She’d turned eighteen a week ago, but her parents were holding her back. Most of the young people she knew had at least started their rumschpringe, but not Anna. Her folks held a tight rein and had forbidden Anna to do any of the things other kids did during their running-around years.
“What are they worried about? Do they think I’ll get into trouble?” Anna mumbled as she tromped through the damp grass toward the barn to feed the cats. It wasn’t fair that she couldn’t have the freedom most of her friends had to experience some of the things English teenagers did.
When Anna entered the barn, the pungent odor of hay mixed with horse manure made her sneeze. If I weren’t Amish, what would I be doing right now? she wondered, rubbing her eyes as they began to itch and water.
To make matters worse, Anna’s mother thought Anna should do everything expected of an Amish woman. Anna didn’t enjoy cooking, and sewing. They just weren’t her thing. She’d tried sewing a dress and had made a mess of it. She couldn’t even manage to sew something as simple as a pair of pillowcases without making stupid mistakes. Mom had tried teaching Anna to quilt, but Anna was all thumbs. Her stitches were uneven and much too big.
Anna felt like a misfit. She hadn’t been baptized or joined the church yet, so she was free to leave if she wanted to. Only trouble was, where would she go, and how would she support herself? If she left, she’d have to stop working at Dad’s window shop, because she was sure he wouldn’t let her stay on.
Inside the barn, Anna spotted three cats—one white, one black, and one gray with white paws, sleeping on a bale of straw. As soon as they sensed her presence, they leaped off the bale and zipped across the room to their empty dishes.
“Are you hungerich?” Anna asked, reaching for the bag of cat food on a shelf near the door.
Meow! Fluffy, the all-white cat, stuck her nose in one of the empty dishes. The other two cats pawed at Anna’s legs.
“Okay, okay, don’t be in such a hurry.” Anna filled the dishes and then set the food back on the shelf.
While the cats ate, Anna wandered over to the horses’ stalls and stopped to watch Cindy, Mom’s honey-colored horse, eat the oats Anna’s fourteen-year-old brother, Dan, had given the mare a short time ago.
Anna didn’t have a horse of her own. She borrowed Mom’s whenever she had somewhere to go that was too far to walk or ride her bike. Anna act
ually preferred riding her bike. It was easier than trying to manage the horse. Even a horse as gentle and easygoing as Cindy could be unpredictable.
One time when Anna had gone to Shipshewana to run some errands for Mom, a motorcycle had spooked Cindy, and Anna had struggled to get the horse back under control. Her mouth went dry just thinking about what could have happened if she hadn’t been able to get Cindy settled down. The nervous horse could have crossed into the other lane of traffic, run off the road into someone’s fence, or taken off down the road.
Just last month a woman from their community had died in a buggy accident that happened between Middlebury and Shipshewana. Anna figured she’d be safer in a car, although even then there were no guarantees.
“Do you ever feel like breaking out of here and running away?” Anna murmured as the horse finished up with her oats.
Cindy’s ears twitched as though in response; then she ambled across the stall and stuck her head over the gate.
Anna scratched behind the mare’s ears. “What do you say, girl? Should we escape together?”
“Who are you talking to?” Dan asked, surprising Anna when he came out of nowhere.
“I was talking to Mom’s gaul, and you shouldn’t sneak up on me like that. Where were you anyway?” she asked, turning to look at her blond-haired brother.
“I was up in the hayloft.” Dan’s blue eyes twinkled, and he grinned at Anna like he’d been doing something special. “I like to go up there to think.”
“What were you thinking about?”
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Nothing really. Just pondering a few things.”
Anna tipped her head. “Such as?”
“Wondering what I’ll be doing next year, when I graduate from eighth grade.”
“I thought you were gonna work for Dad in the window shop.”
“I might, but I’m not sure yet. There could be something else I’d enjoy doing more.”
Anna could certainly relate to that. Mom and Dad expected her to help out in the shop, answering the phone and taking orders from customers. The only part of the job she enjoyed was being able to use the computer. Because they had to order a lot of things online, they’d been given permission from the church leaders to have a computer in their shop. Of course, they’d never have one in their home. That was against the rules of their Amish church, and Mom and Dad were not about to knowingly break any rules. Anna enjoyed having access to the Internet. When things were slow at the shop, she would take a few moments to explore different websites showing places to visit. She knew without a doubt that spending a good deal of the day on the computer would have been no problem for her, if it were allowed. Anna couldn’t believe all the information out there, available by just the click of a mouse.
“Have you ever thought about what it would be like if you didn’t join the Amish church?” Anna asked her brother.
Dan shook his head vigorously. “No way! Where would I go? What would I do?” He reached out and stroked Cindy’s neck. “Don’t think I could be happy if I left our way of life.”
Anna didn’t say anything. If she told Dan the way she felt, he’d probably blab it to their folks. It was better if she kept her thoughts to herself, at least until she’d made a decision.
“I’d better get back in the house and help Mom with breakfast,” Anna said.
“Okay, see ya inside. I’ve still got a couple of chores I need to do.” Dan ambled away.
Anna shook her head. If her brother had chores to do, what was he doing up in the hayloft, thinking about his future? She gave Cindy a good-bye pat and hurried out of the barn.
When Anna stepped into the kitchen, she found Mom in front of their propane stove, stirring a pot of oatmeal. Anna wrinkled her nose. Oatmeal was not one of her favorite breakfast foods.
Anna studied her mother. She was only forty-seven years old but seemed to be aging fast. Maybe it was the fine wrinkles across her forehead, or it could be the dark circles beneath her pale blue eyes. Mom’s hair was a mousy brown, and some telltale gray was showing through. Anna hoped she wouldn’t look as haggard as Mom when she was in her forties. She hoped her light brown eyes wouldn’t lose their sparkle, and that her auburn hair would keep the depth of its color well into her senior years.
“Did you get the cats fed?” Mom asked, breaking into Anna’s musings.
Anna nodded. “They were as desperate as usual.” She removed her jacket and the woolen scarf she’d worn over her stiff white covering. After hanging them on a wall peg, Anna picked off some cat hairs she noticed clinging to her dress and threw them in the garbage can under the kitchen sink.
“Did you notice how chilly our wedder is getting?” Mom questioned.
“Jah, and I don’t like cold weather,” Anna mumbled as she began setting the table. “Summer doesn’t last long enough for me.”
“Some chilly or rainy days are what we can expect during the fall. Winter will be here before we know it.” Mom flashed Anna a smile. “Before you start setting the table, there’s something I want to tell you.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“Emma Miller will be starting another six-week quilting class next Saturday, and I signed you up.” Mom’s smile widened.
Anna’s mouth dropped open. “What? Why would you do that? You know I don’t sew.”
“That’s true, and since I haven’t been successful at teaching you, I thought maybe Emma would have better luck.”
Anna frowned. “But Mom…”
“No arguments, now. Your daed and I talked this over last night, and we think it’s what you need. I went out to the phone shack earlier this morning and left Emma a message, letting her know that you’ll be taking part in her next class.” Mom patted Anna’s shoulder. “If you give yourself a chance, I’m sure you’ll learn a lot from Emma. From what I hear, she’s a very good teacher. And who knows? You may even enjoy the class.”
“Right,” Anna muttered under her breath. She’d heard about Emma’s quilting classes, and the last thing she wanted to do was sit in a room with a bunch of strangers.
Los Angeles, California
Carmen Lopez had only been out of bed a few minutes, when her telephone rang. She glanced at the clock on her bedside table, wondering who would be calling her at 5:00 a.m. The only reason she was up this early was because she had a story to cover in Santa Monica and wanted to get an early start before the freeway traffic reached its peak during rush hour. There was nothing worse than sitting in a traffic jam with irritated drivers honking their horns and hollering at each other. Carmen always wondered why they did that. Did those people think it would make the vehicles miraculously start moving? Being a reporter, she’d learned very quickly that people liked making statements in any way, shape, or form. Truth was, being engulfed in traffic made her nervous, bringing back the memory of the tragic way her precious sister, Lorinda, had died.
The phone rang a few more times, and Carmen finally picked up the receiver. “Hello,” she said, stifling a yawn.
“Carmen, are you awake?”
“Oh, Mr. Lawrence. Yes, I’m up. I’ll be heading to Santa Monica soon to cover that story about the recently opened homeless shelter.”
“Forget about that. I put Eddie Simpson on it.”
Carmen’s brows lifted. “You gave my story away?”
“That’s right. You don’t have time to go to Santa Monica today.”
“Yes, I do. I got up plenty early, and—”
“I just booked a flight for you to South Bend, Indiana, and you need to pack. Your plane leaves in four hours.”
Carmen frowned. Andrew Lawrence could be a difficult boss at times, and he was a little overbearing, but he’d never pulled her off an assignment and sent another reporter in her place. And he’d never expected her to fly somewhere without giving her advanced notice. “Why are you sending me to Indiana?” she questioned.
“There’s been a lot of media hype about the Amish lately, especially with some of the reality
shows on TV about Amish kids who’ve left their families and gone wild,” he said. “Since you have connections in Indiana, I figured you’d be the best person to get the lowdown on this. You know—find out why these kids go wild and why their folks look the other way.”
“Get the lowdown?” Carmen’s eyebrows puckered. “I have no connections in Indiana, sir. And what makes you think I can learn anything firsthand about Amish kids going wild?”
“Your brother-in-law lives there, doesn’t he?”
“Well, yes, Paul lives in Elkhart, but—”
“Didn’t you mention once that he knew some Amish people?”
“Not in Elkhart, but in Shipshewana,” she explained. “Paul took some quilting classes from an Amish woman, but that was over a year ago.”
“That’s perfect! You can pick the man’s brain, nose around the place, ask a lot of questions, and maybe get into a few Amish homes. I’m expecting you to write a good story that’ll shed some light on why all Amish kids go wild during their days of running-around….” His voice trailed off. “What is the Pennsylvania Dutch word for it…rumschpringe?”
“I think that’s it, but I’m not sure if Paul has stayed in contact with the Amish woman who taught him to quilt. Also it could take some time to get that kind of information.”
“No problem. Take all the time you need.”
Carmen blew out her breath. “Mr. Lawrence, I really don’t think….”
“It’s all set, Carmen. Your flight leaves at nine, so you’d better get packed and hustle yourself to the airport. Give me a call when you get there. Oh, and keep me posted as you gather information. I think this will be a great story. It could even win you a promotion if it’s done well, so you’d better not let me down.” Mr. Lawrence hung up before Carmen could say anything more.
Carmen sank to the edge of her bed and groaned. She had to admit she was intrigued by this assignment, and if a promotion came from doing it, that would be great. There was just one problem: Even if Paul was still friends with the Amish woman who’d taught him to quilt, there were no guarantees that he would tell Carmen anything. Things had been strained between her and Paul since Lorinda had been killed. For several months after the accident, Carmen had blamed Paul, thinking he could have done something to prevent it. And even though she’d gone to Elkhart once since Lorinda’s funeral to see Paul’s daughter, Sophia, she and Paul had never really resolved the issue.
The Half-Stitched Amish Quilting Club - 02 - The Tattered Quilt Page 1
