Was he planning to commit suicide by fire and take Danny and me with him? I could think of twenty other ways I would prefer to go out, and since I apparently came back from the dead, I’d like to stay alive.
Elijah dropped the lit match on the hay bale, and the dry hay ignited. Panicked, Danny rocked back and forth in his chair so hard, the chair fell over and he lay on his side, putting him closer to the flames.
Elijah smiled.
I threw all my weight against the enormous watermelon, and it rocked off its platform.
Elijah was too focused on the fire and wasn’t ready when the 230-pound watermelon hit him in the side, knocking him to the ground. He cried out and the watermelon came to rest on his right hand. I winced. I’d bet three head-sized doughnuts that his hand was broken.
“Help! Angie, help me!” Danny’s pant leg caught the flame, and his scream tore through my consciousness. I grabbed a horse blanket hanging on the wall and beat down the flames on his leg. I dropped the blanket and concentrated on the knots tying him to the chair.
The fire ran up the north wall of the barn like a sprinter at the Olympic Games. Soon it was on the rafters. Above us, the fire crackled and hissed.
Crack! The beam above us started to give way. The wood of the centennial barn was like tinder. Elijah could not have picked a more perfect setting for his final fire.
“Angie!” Danny screamed.
Another rafter fell a few feet from me. Hot embers shot up into my face.
“You should go,” Danny said. “I’m the one who caused all this. Go.”
“I don’t think so.”
The knots were no use. With all my strength, I flipped Danny and his chair onto its back and pulled. The back of the chair was metal and red-hot from the flame. I could feel the burns forming on my palms. Ignoring the pain in my left hand, I grabbed the back of the chair and pulled him toward the barn door. It was slow going, and more rafters fell. Inch by inch, we progressed to the door and I was able to drag him through the doorway into the rain. I pulled Danny as far away from the barn as the pain in my hand would allow. When we were twenty yards away, I dropped the back of his chair and fell to the wet grass. I heard the fire truck sirens making their way up Sugartree Street.
Even though it was only a drizzle now, the rain would help control the fire. I started to stand. Would the firefighters arrive in time to save Elijah? Should I go back in for him?
There was a loud crack as the center portion of the roof caved in. Inside the barn, Elijah cried out and then was silent. All I heard was sirens and rain.
Epilogue
A week later, Mattie stocked the display of souvenir thimbles in Running Stitch’s picture window. “Are you sure the Englischers will buy these?”
Behind the counter, loading new merchandise software onto my laptop, I laughed. “Trust me. Everyone coming to Rolling Brook wants to take a little piece of Amish Country home with them.”
She wrinkled her nose at a thimble with a tiny buggy painted on the side. “This isn’t real Amish Country.”
“Just don’t tell the tourists that.” I closed the laptop lid and picked up the small wall quilt. I carried it to the rocking chair by the front window. There I could quilt and watch customers as they came by the shop. I’d started the quilt a day after the barn fire. It would be my first quilt made solely by hand. I pieced together a simple block pattern and the quilting pattern on top was waves.
My quilt would never be as beautiful as one of my aunt’s, but I was getting there. Rachel and Anna were great teachers. The burn inside the palm of my left hand itched. Both hands had been burned, but the left was much worse than the right. How long would my hand ache? Would there be a scar as a reminder? My first real battle wound. The emergency room doctor told me to go easy on the left hand and not use it for any fine motor skills. All quilting was fine motor skills. Thankfully, I’m right-handed. I held the fabric in my left hand and quilted with my right.
Oliver snoozed on his dog bed in the corner of the shop. “I think country life suits him, don’t you?” I said.
Mattie laughed halfheartedly. “I’m going across the street to the bakery for breakfast. Do you want anything?”
“Well . . .”
She gave me a small smile. “One head-size doughnut coming up, if there are any left. Rachel can’t bake them fast enough.”
The bell on the front door rang as the door closed after Mattie. I was happy the young Amish woman was doing so well. She had been through a lot. She put on a brave face, but I knew she reeled from Elijah’s death in the barn. In time, her voice would lose its sad quality. When I didn’t return to Running Stitch after the Watermelon Fest, she’d gotten worried and walked to the barn in the rain looking for me. She found more than she bargained for. I knew a small part of her still loved Elijah and most likely always would, just like a small part of me still loved Ryan. Not that I would be willing to trade in Running Stitch for a big Texas wedding, no matter how many times my mother called me and begged me to move back. In a little quilt shop in Ohio, I’d finally found what I really wanted to do. And after the sheriff searched Danny’s apartment, I had the deed to prove the shop was indisputably mine.
I dropped a stitch and had to backtrack. Finding a person’s passion could be dangerous too. Danny was proof of that. He let his ambition get in the way, and now he awaited trial for murder and attempted murder in the county jail. To my relief, Jessica wasn’t angry at me over what became of her cousin. Last time I talked to her, she said Dodger was the pick of Cherry Cat’s litter and was eager to go home with Oliver and me when he was weaned in a few weeks.
Suddenly, Oliver lifted his head and sniffed the air. “Hear a bird, boy?”
He jumped to his feet. A second later, I heard the rattle of a buggy making its way down the street. Anna’s buggy pulled to a stop in front of Running Stitch. She tethered her horse to the hitching post and pulled a large brown shopping bag from the buggy.
I stood up to greet her, leaving my quilt on the rocker. “Hi, Anna.”
“Gude mariye,” she said as she stepped into the shop. “Gut. You’re the only one here. I have something for you.”
“For me? From you?”
“It is not from me. It is from your aenti. I had wanted to give it to you the day after the opening of the shop.” She gave me a small smile. “But you remember how that had gone.”
She handed me the bag. It was heavy. I knew immediately it was a quilt. My hands began to shake.
“Go on, take it out.”
I reached into the bag and the folded quilt slid out easily. I spread it across the new cutting table I bought for the store. The quilt was even more beautiful than the one that had been ruined. It was also a wedding ring and had all my favorite colors, decidedly not Amish. It was navies, aquas, teals, lemons, and goldenrod yellows. “Eleanor planned to give it to you for your wedding.”
“But I’m not getting married,” I whispered.
Anna smoothed her hands over her apron. “That doesn’t matter. Wedding or no wedding, she would want you to have it.”
Tears gathered in the corners of my eyes. “Danki.”
She laughed at my Pennsylvania Dutch pronunciation of the word for “thank you.” “We might make an Amish out of you yet.” She moved to the rocker and picked up my wall quilt. “I’m glad to see that you’re quilting again.” She moved her reading glasses to the tip of her nose and examined my work. “Your stitches are much better. Not perfect, but you are coming along nicely. You may grow into as good a quilter as your aenti.”
My chest swelled with pride and then I thought of Martha. “Do you think there is enough room in Rolling Brook for two quilt shops?”
She removed her glasses and tucked them into the pocket of her apron. “Martha will do what Martha will do. You need to worry less about her and more about yourself.”
“I can’t go back to T
exas. This business cannot fail.” I said this as a promise to Anna and myself.
“Then work hard to make sure it doesn’t.” She patted her silver bun on the back of her head. “Now that the business with Joseph’s murder is over, you won’t be seeing as much of the sheriff, I gather. I hope you won’t be too disappointed.”
I took my quilt from her and laid it on top of my aunt’s quilt. If a side-by-side comparison was any indication, I had a long way to go to be as good of a hand quilter as my aunt had been. “Why would I be disappointed?”
She smiled wide. “I’ve noticed you watching him a time or two when you thought no one would notice.”
I folded my quilt. “Anna, the sheriff is married.”
She jerked her head back. “He is not.”
I dropped the quilt back onto the table. “Yes, he is. I met his wife, Hillary. She’s very pretty.”
Anna laughed. “Hillary is the sheriff’s ex-wife.”
“Oh,” I said. “Oh.”
A smile spread across the older woman’s face. “That changes things, doesn’t it?”
The bell on Running Stitch’s door rang as a troop of seven middle-aged women from the suburbs entered the shop. “What a cute store!” one exclaimed.
“I wish I could be so lucky as to own a place like this someday,” her friend in the hot pink visor replied.
My chest swelled with pride. “I’m the lucky one,” I told Anna. “Because the store is mine.”
The Amish woman shook her head. “No, Angie, you’re not lucky. You’re blessed.”
For the first time since I left Dallas, I thought Anna might be right about that.
GUEST ARTICLE FOR THE HOLMES COUNTY TOURISM BOARD
Amish Quilting Tips for Beginners
By Angela Braddock, Owner of Running Stitch
The Amish live a plain life. Their homes and businesses are simple, with little ornamentation. One exception is the beautiful handmade quilts found in every Amish home. For the most part, the quilts are not held to the same standard of plainness as Amish dress or decoration because of their usefulness.
Quilting is one of the few places where an Amish woman can let her creativity take over. She has the opportunity to choose the colors and the pattern for her quilt. She may not take pride in her work because the Amish are humble people, but she will be pleased with what she has created.
Quilting began as a necessity for warmth, but today it gives Amish women the opportunity to earn extra money to supplement their husbands’ income.
Here are my tips to make an Amish-style quilt of your very own.
Choosing Colors and Patterns
In the quilt shops across Holmes County, you will see a great variety of quilts, from those made with plain dark fabric to those crafted with intricate prints of flowers or even puppies. The decorative quilts are made strictly for the English. The Amish would not have quilts this flashy in their own homes.
Traditional Amish quilts are made of solid dark colors. Dark greens, purples, and blues are the most popular. The Amish choose bold color combinations for contrast. Many quilts will have black in them because to the Amish black represents joy and being chosen as God’s people. The fabric of preference is lightweight wool.
When choosing your own colors, keep in mind that you need to have enough fabric of each color to keep the pattern symmetrical. Be aware of which square will fall in the center and be the focal point of your quilt. For beginners, a Nine Patch is great starter quilt.
Piecing
Use a ruler to mark the fabric before cutting. It is essential that each piece is cut accurately to avoid throwing off the entire quilt pattern. I recommend that you leave an extra half inch on all sides of your pieces when you cut the fabric so you have plenty of space for your stitches.
When cutting the wool, use sharp fabric scissors to avoid fraying. As you cut, periodically check your pieces against the others that have already been cut to ensure that like pieces are of an identical size and shape. Also check their angle alignment against neighboring pieces. The pieces should fit snuggly together.
When all of your pieces are cut, piece together individual squares. For a Nine Patch quilt, you want to construct each nine patch block, which is made with nine squares of two-by-two-inch fabric, before attaching the other nine patch blocks together.
When piecing, place the fabric front side to front side, so that you see the back side of the fabric. Use straight pins to hold the pieces together as you stitch. A simple straight stitch works well for piecing.
Hand Quilting
Amish women quilt both by hand and with a treadle sewing machine. Here at Running Stitch, all our quilts are quilted by hand. It takes more time, but we believe in upholding the Amish quilting tradition.
After you have your top pieced, you will need to cut your batting, the soft middle of the quilt, and the fabric for the bottom of your quilt. Cut the bottom four inches larger than the topper, and you can use the extra fabric for binding off.
Using brightly colored thread, baste your quilt together. Basting will loosely tether the three layers of your quilt while you work. After your quilt is complete, you will remove the basting thread and discard it. That’s why I say use a bright color—it will be much easier to find.
Use a template of the quilting design you would like to use. Using colored pencil, trace the template on your quilt topper. For your first quilt, I recommend sticking to one repeat quilting design, like waves. After tracing is complete, stretch your quilt on a quilt frame. You can use an embroidery hoop if you don’t have a frame. Keep in mind that you will have to move the hoop often.
With your first stitch, bury the thread knot at the end of your needle in the middle of the quilt and out of sight.
Quilt using the running stitch, pulling the quilting needle down, through, and up several times through all three layers of the quilt along the penciled line. Amish women can have a running stitch nine stitches long. Start with three and add more as you become comfortable. Keep the stitches small, at least half a centimeter. Amish stitching can be even smaller than that. While stitching, use a thimble to help you push the needle through the fabric. Until you are accustomed to quilting, this will protect your finger from your sharp needle point.
Binding Off
After the quilting is complete, remove your basting thread and you are ready to bind off your quilt. Essentially you will want to create an edge to go around the four sides of the quilt. Traditionally, the Amish fold over the fabric from the bottom of the quilt to use for binding. Fold in the cut edge of the bottom fabric and fold the smooth folded edge over the top edge of the quilt. Use straight pins to hold the binding in place as you bind. A straight stitch works well for binding.
Come See Us
If you need more assistance with your quilt, stop by Running Stitch, located on Sugartree Street in beautiful Rolling Brook, Ohio. We are happy to help you in any way that we can, from picking the fabric to choosing a quilting template. Beginner quilting classes will start this fall. We hope you will join us!
Read on for a peek at Isabella Alan’s next Amish Quilt Shop Mystery,
MURDER, SIMPLY STITCHED
Available in May 2014 from Obsidian
When my mother enrolled me in the Little Miss Texas Butterfly Beauty Pageant at the age of eleven, I don’t believe it ever crossed her mind that one day I’d be lying in the dirt with my arms around the neck of a runaway goat.
Petunia the Nubian goat baaed and kicked at me with her sharp hooves. I shifted my body away from her reach, and one of her long tawny-colored ears smacked me in the face. Two minutes before, when Petunia had raced past me as I’d made my way to the auction barn, jumping on her back seemed like a fantastic idea. Maybe because it never occurred to me I would actually succeed in catching her. My blond curls fell into my eyes. I blew at them, but that seemed to only make the
tangles worse.
The tan, white, and brown goat tried to maneuver her feet so she could stand up and make a break for it. A wild goat ride was not my idea of fun. “A little help, please!” I cried.
An out of breath Jonah Graber ran toward me and looped a leash around Petunia’s neck. Dust covered his plain clothes and Amish beard. “I got her.”
As I rolled off the animal, she glared at me with disconcerting goat eyes. I crawled backward on my hands and knees, jumped to my feet, and bounced off something soft. Spinning around, I saw auction house owner Gideon Nissley catch his balance. His plain button-down shirt stretched across his ample stomach.
Heat rushed to my face. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Nissley.” The last thing I wanted to do was knock down the auction yard owner. This was my first day at the Rolling Brook Amish Auction. Gideon had agreed to have some of the quilts from my quilt shop, Running Stitch, auctioned off, and had offered me space in the merchants’ tent to sell directly to tourists. I was the first English shopkeeper to have a spot in the auction and I didn’t want to lose it.
I had my Amish friends the Grabers and the Millers to thank for my place at the auction. They vouched for me and agreed to be held accountable to the Amish community if I messed up. Seeing how I’d just tackled Gideon’s goat to the ground, the auction owner might have been reconsidering his offer.
Gideon righted his straw hat on his head. “What’s going on here? What’s Petunia doing out of her pen?”
It was Jonah’s turn to look sheepish. He flicked a bit of mud from his sandy blond beard, which fell to the second button on his work shirt. “I’m so sorry, Gideon. Petunia got loose somehow as I was moving the Kings’ goats into the show pen.”
Gideon hooked his thumbs around his suspenders. If anything, it made his stomach appear larger. “Now, Petunia is a gut goat, or as gut as a goat can be, but I can’t have her running loose around my auction yard. What if she rammed into an Englischer and hurt them? I’d be the one held responsible. Those Englischer will use any excuse to sue me. That’s why we keep her in her pen on auction days.”
Murder, Plain and Simple Page 28