The forgiving quilt, p.13
The Forgiving Quilt, page 13
They all marched downstairs and out onto the porch where the chill of fall felt crisp and fresh, and the leaves danced a secret waltz across the paths leading to the inn and the big lake.
Abigail whispered to Jonah and smiled. He smiled back, the love in his eyes so precious and so true.
Daed, confused as always, looked around and then looked at Mamm. “What is going on?”
Mamm smiled but didn’t say anything. She’d probably already figured this out.
Jonah took Abigail’s hand. “We have an announcement. Abby had wanted to tell the ladies at the quilting frolic tomorrow, but I think she’s ready now.”
Abigail grinned and looked at Mamm and Daed. “Jonah and I are having a bobbeli.”
Colette and Eliza hugged each other and wiped their eyes. Mamm grabbed Daed’s hand and wiped her eyes. Jonah put his arm around Abigail and gave her a sweet kiss on her cheek.
“A bobbeli,” Daed said, his eyes a bit misty. “Our first grandchild.”
Mamm hugged him close. “Ja, Abe. Our first. The first of many, I hope.”
Then everyone hugged, laughed, and cried, and finally after the sunset drifted through the trees, Eliza and her family waved to Jonah and Abigail as they walked back to their house.
“We’ll need more quilts,” Mamm said. “And we’ll need to help with the nursery. And . . . I can help deliver my first grandchild.”
They headed inside, smiling.
Colette turned to Eliza. “We will be aenties.”
Eliza nodded, her mind on her own quilt and what she needed to do to figure out her life. “A kinder to love and spoil.”
“Do you think we’ll ever be like that, so in love?”
“I thought you were,” Eliza replied to her sister.
“I think I am,” Colette said. “Matthew has been around me all my life. Why does it feel so wunderbar that I finally noticed him?”
Eliza shook her head. “Why did it take Levi returning to show me just how much I missed him?”
“We are a pair,” Colette said. “We’ve always longed for romance and love and now that we have it, we don’t quite know what to make of it.”
“I reckon that’s why we make quilts,” Eliza said. “So we can figure it all out.”
They walked hand in hand back inside the house and finished cleaning up downstairs before heading back up to their rooms. Later, when Eliza was lying in bed, she thought about Levi and how he’d tried to make her happy in so many ways. Even offering to not love her if he wasn’t worthy of her.
“Maybe I’m the one who is not worthy,” she whispered to the night. Then she held her little blue book and wrote her secrets in it and fell asleep with it tucked beneath her pillow.
No matter, she’d always have the thoughts she put into that book. And she’d have the quilt that showed all of Levi’s attempts to be the man she needed him to be.
Could she become the woman she needed to be for him?
* * *
Levi arrived the next day to find several women gathering to go into the big meeting room at the inn. Jonah had warned him about avoiding female frolics.
“They laugh and talk . . . about life, food and family—and stuff that can scare a man.” Then he told Levi how he’d overheard them once talking about the quilt Abigail had made from his tattered memories. “I was upset at first, but in the end, those quilting sessions brought out the truth about my past and showed the way to my future.”
The truth? Levi didn’t know what that was anymore. And the future was as vast and unattainable as ever. He didn’t know what he wanted anymore, but he did know he’d keep fighting for Eliza. He’d make himself a better man, a more prosperous man, for her.
He grabbed some kaffe and a biscuit from Edith. She always kept food for the staff. Then he tried to sneak out the back door, but just as he opened it, Eliza came bursting through with fabric held tightly in her arms.
They ran straight into each other.
“I’m sorry,” he said, kaffe sloshing, but he managed to hold on to his biscuit.
“Excuse me.” She glanced up at him. “Levi.”
“It’s me. Just grabbing my breakfast. My second breakfast, that is.”
She smiled at that. “Does your mamm know you sneak biscuits from Edith?”
He stood back, wiped his shirt, and took in the sight of her in a burgundy dress and a fresh apron. “It hasn’t kumm up in conversation, neh.”
Eliza’s eyes grew wide as she stood so close to him. “I won’t tell.”
“Denke.”
They kept standing, staring at each other.
“Are we friends again?” he asked.
She studied him for so long, he was afraid of her answer.
“Ja. We are friends.”
He could tell she wanted to say more, but she seemed to hesitate. “What have you got there?”
She glanced at the bundle in her arms. “It’s a quilt, or the beginnings of a quilt. A mess, really. I’m not very gut at sewing.”
“But you enjoy spending time with your sisters and mamm?”
“Mostly,” she said with a saucy smile.
“Better than nagging me in the stables?”
“I don’t nag. I instruct.”
“Oh, you instruct. I see. As if I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“I observe, too, of course.”
“And what do you observe? The horses? Or me?”
She blushed and blinked, her eyelashes fluttering. “My horses, of course. Soon I’ll be riding again.”
He bit into his biscuit, the idea of her getting on a horse scaring him. After chewing the buttery dough, he asked, “Are you ready for that?”
“I might not be able to get on by myself, but I think I’m ready to ride.”
“I’ll help you. Get you up there and watch you so you don’t damage your leg again.”
“I’d like that.”
Surprised she hadn’t turned him down, he said, “Later maybe?”
“Maybe. Unless this quilting session makes me tired.”
Matthew came walking up. “Guder mariye.”
Levi stepped away from Eliza. “Gut daag, Matthew.”
Eliza nodded to Matthew. “I’ll see you later,” she said to Levi as she slipped past him.
“The frolic?” Matthew asked, shaking his head.
“Ja.” Levi watched as Eliza hurried up the hallway toward the big room. “It scares me to think about it.”
Sarah came out of the room and waved to both of them. “Levi, next time we plan a quilting frolic, I’ll invite your mamm. Connie can spend the day with us.”
“She’d like that, I’m sure,” he said. “I’d better get on with things.”
“Me, too,” Matthew said.
They scattered, but Levi glanced back and saw Sarah’s amused face. They were all in a great mood this morning.
That made him smile. Eliza was speaking to him again, so he could be in a great mood himself. And she’d said she’d see him later.
He hoped she would visit him at the stables.
Maybe they’d taken another turn in their relationship. A better turn.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Eliza placed her quilt top on the worktable by the wall. She’d sewn the first few panels together on Mamm’s sewing machine. The other women would help her place the square panels on the puffy white batting they’d stretch across the quilting table. Right now, she wasn’t ready for that. She’d sit at a smaller table with her adjustable wooden frame and hope no one would notice her feeble attempts.
Abigail had shown her how to take the paper patterns they cut out from her sketches and trace them with a pencil or charcoal on a white backing. Then they’d cut the shapes from the different colors of cloth they’d selected and stitch them to different colored panels. Orange and burgundy mums, and a black flowerpot. Yellow for the ice cream cone and creamy white for the ice cream. Blue for her journal and several different colors for the stack of books. They were still working on the buggy ride to the cottage after she’d gotten her cast off.
“What are you thinking over there?” Mamm asked, her hands held together over her apron, her smile serene as always.
Eliza knew she could be honest with Mamm. “I want this quilt to show what my heart feels, Mamm.” She sighed and shrugged. “Except my heart feels too many things.”
Mamm touched a hand to her face. “Then put down what you receive from him, the material gifts that show kindness. We Amish aren’t gut at accepting too many showy gifts, but gifts from the heart are the best kind, Eliza. With each gift Levi gives you, think of the gestures he’s shown you. Gifts from the heart mean the world to a woman. We don’t need diamonds or fancy clothes, or fancy homes. We need love, assurance, and strength. The kind of strength that cements a union for a lifetime.”
Eliza thought about that. “I don’t know if I can find a lifetime kind of love. Levi and I hurt each other so much when we were young. For years, I blamed him. Only him.”
“Ach vell, I understand,” Mamm said. “You feel guilt, ain’t so?”
Eliza had not realized that until now. “I do, Mamm. I do.”
Sarah gave her an indulgent smile. “Leibling, you need to find some kind gestures of your own, don’t you think?”
Eliza stood there with the pieces of her quilt all around her, realizing she’d been so wrong in so many ways. She couldn’t move forward with Levi until she’d resolved all the reasons she’d panicked when they’d kissed that first time. What if she panicked again? And again? What if she wasn’t meant to kiss a man or fall in love? What if it wasn’t really about the kiss, but about giving up her freedom and independence?
* * *
“What are you doing over there, Eliza?”
Aenti Miriam had arrived.
Eliza glanced up from her stitching and forced a smile. She’d hoped to be done before Aenti showed up. Stating the obvious, she said, “I’m making a quilt, Aenti.”
Miriam came forward, her hands on her hips, her lips pursed together as tight as a stitch. “I can see that with meine own eyes. But what kind of quilt is this?”
“It’s a forgiving quilt,” Eliza replied without thinking. Aenti would want to know the whole story.
“Who needs forgiving? You or someone else?”
“Both,” Colette said from her perch near the big quilting table. Then she glanced up and put a hand to her mouth. “I mean, everyone needs forgiveness, ain’t so?”
Aenti Miriam glanced around, her chin up, her eyes slits of disapproval. “I don’t like these modern primitives. This is not the Amish way of quilting.”
Mamm took over, always protecting her bobbelis, even if they were all grown now. “Miriam, the girls like to experiment with new ideas. The Englisch like pretty, interesting quilts, and we make all kinds. But for ourselves, we make things that show our creative nature in keeping with our plain ways. Eliza’s quilt shows kind gestures, which I’m sure you’ll agree makes for a nice quilt.”
“I do not condone, nor do I understand why you let these girls do whatever they please. You’ll regret that one day, sister.”
“I regret that I invited you to stay for two weeks,” Mamm said with her sweet smile. “Can you try to enjoy yourself?”
Aenti Miriam had a bad disposition due to a hard life, but she also had feelings. She huffed and sniffed. “I can leave.”
Mamm shook her head and hugged her older sister. “I was only teasing you to make you smile. We do not want you to leave. We want you to help us, since your quilts are known far and wide. You are gut at this, so let’s enjoy that and get some work done.”
Miriam glanced from Eliza back to Mamm. “I suppose it doesn’t matter what I think, since you allowed Abigail to marry an Englischer, and now you are encouraging Eliza with another strange quilt. Makes no difference to me. They are yours to deal with, after all.”
“Exactly,” Mamm said, still as calm as always. “Jonah is Amish now and . . . he and Abby are having a bobbeli. We rejoice in that. And Eliza is maturing into a kind, understanding young woman. Colette is happy with her Matthew. All is well with me.”
Aenti Miriam stood quiet as she processed this information. “A bobbeli? Abby and Jonah? Sister, why didn’t you tell me that sooner?”
“You did not give me an opportunity,” Mamm pointed out.
Eliza pasted a smile on her face and went back to stitching as Aenti hugged Abigail and beamed with pride. Eliza found it soothing to hear her mamm and Aenti go on and on about the new baby and different quilting patterns.
Eliza became lost in her stitches as she remembered every moment of her time with Levi. She took her time putting the needle to the fabric, her thimble tight on her finger, her mind watching the white threads that would highlight each kindness he’d shown her. She’d find ways to show him she intended to be kind and understanding and forgiving, too, and that she in turn needed his forgiveness.
It was a long process, learning to forgive someone. It was an intricate part of the Amish faith, yet some still held grudges all their lives. Eliza didn’t want to be that kind of person.
She didn’t want Levi to leave again, thinking he’d been the one in the wrong and taking the blame for it. She prayed that wouldn’t happen. And she prayed he’d see the gut in himself and not think he was beneath her. That was silly, after all.
She had a lot of prayers poured into her work today, for certain sure. A prayer for each panel she put on her quilt.
This one might take a long time to finish.
* * *
Levi went about his work while a family of four watched. The Englisch, so fascinated by Amish life, often asked if they could observe him at work. Though he smiled and nodded, he felt like a zoo animal.
Today, Samson gave the couple and their two children a real show. Samson didn’t like a lot of people buzzing around him, so he stomped, snorted, and tossed his gray mane.
That brought giggles from the children, who stood in awe of the big animal.
“Does he bite?” the boy asked while Levi held Samson’s hoof between his knees and examined the shoe for wear and tear.
“He doesn’t bite on purpose,” Levi explained. “Only if he’s taken by surprise or if someone startles him.”
“Why do horses wear shoes?” the girl asked, grinning, her strawberry-blond hair falling down her back.
“They have many jobs,” he explained. “So they need gut shoes to protect their hooves. They run hard and fast sometimes and carry humans on their backs. That makes for a lot of stress on their hooves.”
“Like me when I run barefoot,” the little boy said. “I get stickers, and rocks hurt my feet.”
“Exactly,” Levi patiently agreed. “They are the same. A hurting foot makes for a grumpy horse or boy.”
The boy beamed and nodded, while his sister giggled.
Mom and Dad thanked him and turned their children toward the apple orchard. But the little boy ran back. “You have an important job.”
“That I do,” Levi said. “That I do.”
He looked up to find Eliza standing a few feet away, watching him. “Are you done quilting then?” he asked after the boy ran toward his family.
“Ja.”
She stepped forward with only a slight limp in her left leg. He knew she still fretted about that limp, but he tried not to ask too many questions about how she was doing.
“How did it go?”
She smiled and did a little twist like a sashay. “It went fine, except for Aenti Miriam disapproving of everything and telling us how to quilt. She is an expert at quilting and making us feel as if we’ve failed horribly with each stitch.”
“There are no perfect quilts,” he said, remembering the old saying Amish women used a lot. They always left one mistake in each quilt, because only Gott was perfect.
Samson grew impatient so Levi let him go. The big horse headed straight for Eliza and lowered his head.
She gave him the big chunk of sliced apple she had in her hand. “Neh, well tell that to my aenti.”
Samson chewed on his treat while Eliza stroked his head and nose. “I have missed you, my big bobbeli.”
Levi finished his work and washed up at the old pump behind the stables. After running his hands through his hair and making sure he’d cleared off any dirt, he turned back to Eliza.
“Did you need to talk to me?”
She blinked, looked confused. “Oh, you mean what am I doing here?”
He nodded, glad she was here but afraid to make any assumptions.
“I thought I’d check on the horses and . . . I wanted to see you.”
“Oh, and why is that?” he asked, stepping closer to her.
Eliza’s eyes flared with awareness, going dark green like a reflection of fresh leaves on a pond. “I’ve been grumpy lately and I wanted to make up for that.”
“We did decide we were on speaking terms again,” he reminded her. “So . . . you missed me?”
“How can I do that when you’re right here?”
He moved an inch closer. “But you came here looking for me, ja?”
She blushed and glanced around. “I suppose I did, at that.”
He stood, enjoying seeing Eliza unsure and flustered. Enjoying seeing her, period.
“I have an idea,” he said as he stood in front of her. “Why don’t we take a walk through the apple orchard, and then I’ll walk with you to the cottage.”
“That’s taking the long way home,” she said.
“Exactly.” He held out his hand.
Eliza took it. Her hand felt soft and warm against his rough skin. Fragile, delicate, but with an underlying strength.
They walked slowly down to the apple orchard, leaves chasing their footsteps and falling across their path. The air breathed hope, the wind felt crisp, fresh, and new as it pushed the scents of water and earth around them.
“Fall is like a grace period before winter,” he said, enjoying being with Eliza. “Just right. The harvest is here, and we can rest a bit before the growing season starts all over again in the spring.”
“When did you become so philosophical?” she asked, her eyes skimming over him and back to the leaves.
