by Jodi Vaughn
“Hi, Lorraine.” Heather immediately liked the white-haired woman. She had soft gray eyes, a genuine smile, and wore a pink jogging suit.
A twig of a woman wearing a blue twin set gave a slight wave. “Hi, Heather. My name is, well, it’s odd. Let’s just say people call me Weenie. Weenie Dunst. I am a retired librarian but work part-time at the English Rose bookstore on the square. Glad to have you here.”
“Thank you, Weenie.”
“Hi, there. My name is Donna Williams. I’m a retired schoolteacher. Now I tend to my vegetable and flower garden.”
“Come on, Donna. Don’t be so modest.” Mildred grinned. “Heather, Donna has won first prize on her vegetable and flowers every year at the county fair.”
“Well, that’s because Elizabeth refuses to enter.” Mildred gave Elizabeth a nod. “I am grateful she doesn’t enter; otherwise, no one would have a chance to win against her. Thank you, friend.”
“You’re welcome.” Elizabeth chortled.
“And Donna also tutors high school seniors for their college exams.”
“Right now, I have a break so I can quilt more.” Donna nodded.
“We’ve met briefly on the square, dear. I’m Sylvia Jenkins.” Sylvia waved. “I believe you were with Grayson.”
A murmur rose up in the room. Her face heated.
“He was taking me to the grocery store since I didn’t know my way around,” she assured them.
“Interesting,” Sylvia muttered. “As you know I am part owner of S&M beauty salon.”
“Ugh. I can’t believe you named your shop that.” Bertha glared. “It’s disgusting.”
“Get over yourself, Bertha.” The other woman who’d been on the square that day turned and gave Heather a smile. “Hi. I’m Maggie Rowe. The other owner of said disgusting salon.”
Agnes snorted.
“Hi, Maggie.” She bit her lip to keep from laughing.
Bertha was shooting daggers at everyone who was snickering.
“And I’m Mildred Agnew. I’m the owner of Mildred’s Stitching Quilt Shop. I started the quilt bee a few years ago. It started out just once a month and then quickly turned into once a week. We make our blocks at home, and then I put them together and we hand quilt them here.”
“How nice. What do you do with the quilts once you are finished? Do you sell them?”
“Oh no, dear. The ones we do here we give away. This one here is called Stars and Stripes. We are making it for Mr. Brooks. He’s a war vet who turns ninety-five this year. It’s his birthday present.”
“Wow, that’s amazing.” She looked at the pattern of stars in red, white, and blue on a cream background fabric.
“Can we get started? I’m not here for some kumbaya session,” Agnes groused.
Mildred shook her head. “Everyone have their needles ready?”
Everyone said they did.
“Here, Heather. I threaded your needle. I’m going to sit on the other side of you and show you how to hand stitch.”
“I hope you are keeping your expectations low. And the Band-Aids handy.” Heather shook her head.
“Be positive, dear. Everyone can sew.” Mildred smiled brightly.
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” she muttered.
After numerous attempts at a proper stitch, multiple finger sticks, and too many drops of blood on the beloved quilt, Heather was encouraged to take a break and grab something to eat.
She quickly complied.
“I found some pads under the sink.” Lorraine held out the feminine hygiene product.
She cringed and pressed the pad to her finger. “Thanks. Sorry about your quilt. I hope you can get the blood out.” She bit her lip.
“Of course we can. Mildred had a special solution to get out any kind of stain,” Lorraine reassured her.
“Good. I would have hated to ruined Mr. Brook’s birthday present.”
“I’ll let you in on a little secret.“ Lorraine leaned in close. “The quilts are far from perfect. If you look at everyone’s stitches, they are all different. Some are very tiny, some are too big, most are irregular. But that’s what makes a quilt a quilt. All the imperfections. It’s like life.” She patted her on the shoulder and left her by the pound cake.
“Hungry? I made some pound cake.” Bertha walked up and picked up a saucer. She reached for the knife.
“Oh, no, thank you. I’m gluten intolerant.” She walked over to the hot tea and fixed two cups.
She walked back over to Elizabeth and handed her and Agnes a cup.
The women thanked her and took a break from quilting.
Heather fixed herself a cup and sat back down.
Chapter 21
“That certainly took a turn.” Heather looked at Elizabeth wide-eyed.
“Certainly did.” Elizabeth gave her a pointed look. “I knew that Bertha Mills was a troublemaker. I can’t believe she called the pastor on us. We were not doing a thing.” Elizabeth lifted her chin.
“Well, that’s not exactly true.” Heather eyed her. “I mean everyone was talking about the next quilt. Which was called Drunkard’s Path?”
“So?”
“Which led to people talking about the pastor’s sister and her getting a DUI,” Heather said slowly.
“Well, it’s not like the whole town doesn’t know. I mean it was in the paper. If it was in the paper, I don’t consider it gossip,” Elizabeth stated.
“But apparently the pastor does. And he happened to walk in when Agnes was talking about it. Which led to him to suggest the quilting bee needs to be moved to another location.”
“It’s all Bertha’s fault.” Elizabeth crossed her arms. “Now the pastor is mad at all of us.”
“I don’t think he’s mad. I think he’s hurt.” Heather sighed heavily. “It’s a devastating feeling knowing people you love are gossiping about you.”
Elizabeth moaned. “Ugh. You’re mighty smart for a young thing.” She shook her head. “I have to make it up to him. I’ll make him a casserole.”
“Why don’t you just talk to him. Or write him a note. That’s what I would do.” Heather shrugged and opened the car door. She hurried over to Elizabeth’s side. “And after you do that, I would be looking for a new place to quilt.”
“I think Mildred will probably let us quilt in her shop. She’s got a room in the back.” Elizabeth grimaced as she eased out of the car with Heather’s assistance.
“Let’s get you inside and get you something for the pain.”
“Not the strong medicine. I think just Tylenol. I don’t want to get dependent on them.”
“Sure. Sounds good. I’ll fix you some tea and some of those cookies I made yesterday.” Heather helped her up the front porch stairs. “Want to sit out here?”
“Yes. Might as well enjoy the good weather while we can.” Elizabeth sat in the wicker rocker.
Heather went inside and put the tea kettle on. She pulled out two teacups and saucers. She pulled down the ziplock bag with the sugar cookies she’d made last night under Elizabeth’s instruction. After Elizabeth had gone to bed, she’d put some extra cookies in a separate ziplock bag and placed it upstairs in her room beside the peanut butter and the granola bars she’d brought with her. Old habits lingered and she hadn’t been able to throw them away.
She didn’t know what tomorrow held.
There had been days in foster care that the only food she’d gotten had been spoiled. Or days she hadn’t had food at all.
She turned off the tea kettle and quickly fixed two cups of English breakfast tea. She placed two cookies on both saucers and took them outside.
“Here we go.” She handed Elizabeth a cup of tea with two sugar cookies hanging off the saucer.
“Thank you, dear.” Elizabeth set the saucer on the wicker table and took a sip of tea.
“You’re welcome.” She eased into the chair. Easy silence flowed between them.
“We have a few more days of tulip harvest, and then we have to think about the other
flowers.” Elizabeth stared off into her flower field.
“What’s the next flower to be harvested?” Heather set the rocker into motion.
“The gladiolus. There’s a lot of demand for them, especially during wedding season.”
“How many colors do you have? I know Olivia said something about white gladiolus being in demand.”
“I have white, peach, yellow, yellow with orange throat, and a very deep red.” Elizabeth smiled as she talked about her flowers.
“You must feel like you live in heaven,” Heather blurted out.
“Heaven?”
“Yeah. I mean you wake up surrounded by all those colors. Even in winter, it still must seem like a wonderland.” Heather sipped her tea.
“You know what, Heather? I think you’re the only person who probably thinks that. Besides me, of course.” Elizabeth smiled with pride.
“Surely not. How could anyone not want to stay here forever?” She shrugged and nibbled on her cookie.
“I ask myself the same question. Especially after my kids moved away. You know, back in my day, families stayed together. But as the jobs moved from farming to the city with factories, people moved away. They had to go where the jobs were. Sometimes I wish we could go back in time and realize how lucky we were back then. Even if we were poor in material things.”
Her words resonated with Heather.
“Do you have any other jobs lined up after you are done with me?”
She ducked her head. Sadness filled her chest. “No, I haven’t thought that far ahead.”
“You know, I was wondering. I know you probably had your heart set on being a caregiver, but you are also a great worker here on the farm. You are a hard worker. I was wondering if maybe once I’m better, you would be interested in staying on as a caretaker of my farm.”
“Are you serious?” Her heart beat like a drum in her chest.
“Well, I know I didn’t hire you to be a farmhand. But maybe you could think about it.”
“I don’t need to think about it. I’ll take it.” She felt like she was going to float right off the front porch.
“I guess we should talk about where you’ll be staying.” Elizabeth frowned, looking lost in thought.
“Would you rather I find a place to rent?” Her voice was small.
“No, dear. I was just thinking the room you are in is the smallest room in the house. You could move to the room next door. It has its own bathroom. Of course we’d have to move all my sewing stuff into the room you are in. I’ve kind of made a mess in there.”
“Okay. Would you like me to start working on that?”
“Yes. And we can start decluttering that room after dinner. Goodness knows I have packed stuff away in that room for years. It would be good to go through and get it cleaned up.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Heather eased back in her chair and sipped her tea. For once things were looking up. And it looked like she had found the home she’d always searched for.
Chapter 22
“I thought you’d be over at Ms. Elizabeth’s.” Mitch stepped up to the tee box and lowered his driver.
Sam had called and invited him to play golf. Mitch and Sloan showed up as well since they had the day off.
“She said she didn’t need my help. She said that she had tripled the amount of volunteers today.” Grayson slipped on his golf glove.
Mitch hit the ball straight down the fairway. He picked up his tee and laughed.
“What?” Grayson swung.
“The volunteers tripled because the entire high school football team showed up. I don’t blame them. Tabitha, Gabriela, and Heather. It’s like a triple threat of gorgeous.”
Grayson hooked the ball and turned to glare at Mitch.
“What? You asked.” He shrugged.
“How do you know this?”
“Olivia told Sam. And Sam told me. She just sent a text to Sam to let you know those young guys are drooling all over Heather. One even asked her to the prom.”
“I’m pretty sure she’s too old to go to a prom.”
“Of course she is. She’s closer to your age.” Sam stepped up to the tee box gave him serious side-eye. He hit the ball straight and it landed on the green.
Sloan teed off next. He didn’t drive it as far but it was straight.
The only one of them not able to concentrate long enough to hit the ball was him.
He jammed his driver back into his golf bag and got into the golf cart. Sam slowly drove them over to his golf ball while Mitch and Sloan drove over in their cart.
He slid out of the golf cart and grabbed an iron. He narrowed his eyes at his ball buried in some tall grass between two trees. He gritted his teeth and lined up his shot. He swung.
“Also heard Elizabeth was cooking up a big meal tonight and invited everyone to stay and eat,” Sam called out.
Grayson cringed as his shot sailed farther away than he intended.
He glared at Sam. “I’m sure Heather won’t allow her to do all that work. She’s very protective over her. Plus, she won’t be inviting those boys to stay.”
“I don’t know. Elizabeth is very strong-willed. She’ll insist on feeding everyone. You know how she is. Didn’t you eat with Elizabeth and Heather a few days ago?” Sloan asked.
Grayson slammed his iron into the golf bag. “You know my golf game would be a lot better if you all didn’t talk as much.”
“Are you sure about that? You’re a pretty crappy golfer as it is.” Sam deadpanned.
Grayson glared.
“I don’t think it’s my chatting that has your game off. I think it’s the fact that you’re bothered by all those guys hanging over there with Heather,” Mitch teased.
Grayson glared.
“Look, man. Everyone knows Sarah did a number on you. The way things ended between you two was difficult. But you can’t keep living in your own protective shell and not ever let anyone get close to you. You’re going to have to put yourself out there if you want to find love again.”
He bristled under Sam’s words. “You’re one to talk. When are you going to get a girlfriend?”
Sam looked away.
Grayson sighed. “Sorry, man. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“I guess we all have our own issues when it comes to women.” Mitch lifted his chin defiantly.
“That’s a statement I can get behind.” Grayson grinned. “Now let’s start playing some golf.”
Chapter 23
“So, what do you think? Will Gabriela punch him in the face or dump her water on him?” Tabitha nudged Heather. “I can’t believe guys that young think they have a chance with her.”
“I can. They are young and stupid and full of courage. It’s something that will get them in trouble one day.” She shook her head.
“Well, I’m complimented that they still think I’m hot. I mean I’m pushing thirty.” Tabitha shrugged.
Heather turned and stared. “You’re kidding, right? I thought you were my age.”
“How old are you?”
“I’m twenty-three.”
“You look older.”
“Thanks a lot.” Heather snorted.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I mean you have wise eyes. And you don’t act foolish like the rest of us. To be honest, you’re more mature than me. I can see why Grayson is drawn to you.”
“Grayson is not drawn to me,” she insisted.
“Want to make a bet?” Tabitha lifted her chin.
“Sure.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“I bet he’ll have a lot to say about Riley MacDougal headed this way. I bet he’s going to ask you to the prom. All I got was an invite to go to a movie. Dinner not included.” Tabitha scowled.
Heather laughed.
“Oh, look. Riley is wiping the sweat off his head and making his way over here.” Tabitha pretended to be harvesting the final tulips in the field. They had been working all day without a break. Elizabeth had said today was the last chance to harve
st.
“Oh no.” Heather bent and got busy cutting tulips.
“Oh, hey, Heather.” Riley paused in front of her with his hands on his hips. “I wanted to talk to you.”
Her heart sank. “I’m kind of busy right now, Riley. Can it wait?”
“It’s important. Besides, it won’t take long.” He gave her a grin.
She stifled a groan. “Okay.” She set down the shears and walked away from Tabitha to the end of the row for some privacy. She turned and faced him.
“So, I know you’re new in town and all. And we are having this party down by the creek this Friday night. I was wondering if you’d like to go. You know to unwind and get to know some people.”
“Thanks, but no thanks.” She gave him a strained smile.
“Come on. It will do you some good. Get you off this old farm for a change.” Riley grinned.
“I don’t want to get off this farm. I happen to like it here.”
He sobered. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Riley, how old are you?”
“I’ll be eighteen in a couple of weeks.” He smiled.
“Yeah? Well, I’m older than you. Much older.” She cocked her head.
“That’s okay. I like older women. In fact, I used to date a girl from The Cat’s Meow Club off I-55.”
She grimaced. “I’m pretty sure that’s illegal.”
“I won’t tell if you won’t.” He gave her a wink.
“Yet, the answer is still no.” She turned and walked back to a grinning Tabitha.
“Don’t say a word.” She narrowed her eyes at her new friend.
“I can’t commit to that. I’m horrible at not speaking my mind. If I was a spy, the enemy would get all the information out of me.” Tabitha shrugged. “So what did he say?”
She sighed heavily. “He asked me out. When I told him I was much older than him, he then told me he dated older women. One in particular from The Cat’s Meow Club.”
Tabitha’s eyes bulged.
“Judging from your look, that’s not a restaurant.”
“No. it’s not. It’s a den of ill repute, as Elizabeth would say.” She cocked her head. “And he’s lying, trying to impress you.”