The Cherished Quilt

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The Cherished Quilt Page 5

by Amy Clipston


  “I told you I would be froh to help,” Aenti Tillie said. “I just love weddings. Since Hank and I never had any kinner of our own, we’d love to be involved in your wedding, Rachel, just as we were with Veronica’s.”

  Chris’s eyes moved to the door in search of Emily. Was she still washing dishes? Somehow he had a feeling this wouldn’t bother her. She seemed like the type of thoughtful and generous maedel who loved to take care of everyone else.

  He stared off toward the harness shop. He couldn’t allow himself to get emotionally attached to Emily or the rest of the Fisher family. He didn’t belong here, and he didn’t plan to stay long. Hopefully he could make enough money to afford a place of his own in Sugarcreek. But what would he do to make a living?

  The front door opened and clicked shut, but Chris kept his focus on the harness shop and his future. Something brushed against his arm, and then cold glass moved lightly against his hand.

  “Would you like another?”

  Chris looked over at Emily. She was sitting beside him and smiling, holding out another bottle of root beer. Her leg touched his, and the contact sent an intensity radiating through his body. He stared at her, wondering how he could make a quick escape. Yet he was frozen in place, trapped on the bench beside her and held captive by her beauty.

  “Don’t you like root beer?” Raising her eyebrows, she held the bottle suspended between them.

  “Ya,” he managed to say as he took the bottle from her. “Danki.”

  “Gern gschehne.” She opened a bottle and sipped. “It looked like you had fun with John earlier.”

  “Ya.” Chris nodded, and she looked at him as if waiting for him to say more. “He’s a nice bu.”

  “Ya, he is.” Emily rested her bottle on the arm of the bench. “Rachel teaches at his school. That’s how she met Mike a year ago.” She stared off toward the pasture. “And now they’re getting married. Life moves so fast sometimes.”

  “It does.” Chris took another sip of root beer. What should he say to her? He had nothing to offer her, but he suddenly longed to know her better.

  Emily turned back toward him, and her eyes seemed a deeper shade of blue in the flicker of the lanterns her father had set on the end of the porch. Instead of a sky blue, they were sapphire blue.

  “Do you like the fall?” she asked.

  The question caught him off guard. “Uh, sure. Ya, I do.”

  “I do too.” Emily rubbed her hands over the sleeves of her green dress. “It feels like it’s getting colder. Do you like the cold?” Her eyes searched his. What was she trying to find?

  “Not really.”

  “I’ve never been to Ohio. I’d love to see it someday.”

  “Oh.” Chris wasn’t sure how to respond to that comment.

  “Well, I guess we should head on home,” Onkel Hank announced. “My boss expects me to be at work early tomorrow.”

  “Your boss?” Leroy asked with a laugh. “I thought you were the boss.”

  Emily grinned and rolled her eyes. “I’ve heard this argument my whole life. They act like such gegisch buwe.”

  Chris snickered and then grinned, and Emily’s face lit up. “What?”

  “You have a great smile,” she whispered. “I like seeing it.”

  Chris blinked. She’d rendered him speechless with one little compliment. No one had ever told Chris he had a nice smile. Not even his mother. He knew Mamm loved him, but she had never been one to spoil her sons.

  Tillie stood. “We can talk about your wedding plans tomorrow. I’m so froh for you, Rachel.”

  “Danki, Tillie.” Rachel stood and hugged her.

  Tillie faced Mattie. “Danki for supper. We had a nice time.”

  “You know you’re always welcome here,” Mattie said. “You all are family.” She turned toward Chris. “We enjoyed having you over too.”

  “Danki. The food was fantastic.” Chris stood.

  “Come over again soon,” Rachel said.

  “I will.” Chris faced Emily. “I guess I’ll see you at work.”

  “Ya, you will.” Her expression seemed to hold something special just for him. Had she become his friend? Did he need her as his friend?

  “I’M GOING TO TRY TO TALK TO THE SCHOOL BOARD THIS week,” Rachel said as Emily followed her into the kitchen after Tillie, Hank, and Christopher left. “I’ll agree to stay on and train my replacement, but I have to quit as soon as possible. I have so much to do.”

  Emily walked over to the sink and began to dry the remaining dishes sitting in the drainboard.

  Beaming, Rachel leaned against the counter. “I’m going to be Rachel Lantz. I can’t believe it. I’ve finally found the one. I wasted so much time hoping David would ask me to marry him, but I guess I had to wait to meet Mike at the right time.”

  “Ya, that’s true,” Mamm said. “God has the perfect plan for all of us.”

  “And Veronica is going to have a baby in the spring,” Rachel gushed. “I can’t believe it.” She touched Emily’s arm. “We’re going to be aentis.”

  Emily nodded. “Ya, I can’t wait.”

  Rachel started for the stairs. “I need to go make a list of everything I have to do. The wedding is going to come so fast.”

  Emily leaned against the sink as she listened to Rachel’s footfalls on the steps. While she was thrilled for both Veronica’s pregnancy and Rachel’s engagement, she couldn’t stop wondering when it would be her time to celebrate. When would she fall in love, get married, and start a family?

  Emily closed her eyes as jealousy clawed at her. She tried to smother the feeling. Jealousy was sin! What kind of horrible person was jealous of her sisters’ happiness, as if they were somehow stealing happiness from her? It wasn’t as if either of them was standing in the way of her own hopes and dreams.

  “Emily?” Mamm stepped over to the sink. “Was iss letz?”

  Emily opened her eyes and forced a smile. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

  Mamm crossed her arms over her apron. “You don’t look fine. You know you can talk to me.”

  “Ya, I know.” Emily couldn’t bring herself to tell her mother the truth. “I’m just concerned about Christopher.” It wasn’t a lie.

  “Why are you worried about him?”

  “Tillie told me he came here because of his younger bruder’s death a few months ago. He needed a new start.” Emily dried another glass as she spoke. “Tillie said he really needs a freind, so I’m going to try to be his freind.”

  Mamm touched Emily’s cheek. “You have such a kind heart. You will be a wunderbaar freind to him.”

  “I hope so,” Emily said softly. “You can go to bed, Mamm. I’ll finish this up.”

  “Are you sure?” Mamm asked, and Emily nodded. “Danki. Gut nacht.”

  While she dried the rest of the glasses, Emily reflected on the day. Christopher was such a complicated puzzle. But he seemed to be slowly warming up to her, and that was encouraging.

  Emily set the last glass in the cabinet and then dried her hands as her thoughts spun like a tornado. It had been such an emotional day, and life was zipping by too fast. Soon Rachel would move out, and Emily would be the last one left at home.

  Heaving a deep sigh, Emily padded toward the spiral staircase to the second floor. As she climbed the stairs, she hoped she would see Christopher’s dazzling smile again soon, but more than that, she hoped he would allow her to become his freind. Maybe she needed his friendship as much as he needed hers.

  CHRIS’S EYES FLEW OPEN AFTER ANOTHER NIGHTMARE. ONLY this time he made it to the middle of the pasture in time for Gabriel to say good-bye to him before he died. As the image of Gabriel dead in a pool of blood violated his mind, he shuddered.

  He draped his arm over his eyes, trying to erase the scene. If only Chris could’ve pulled Gabriel away before that horse kicked. If only Chris could’ve stopped Dat from buying that wild horse in the first place.

  Chris stared up at the ceiling for a moment and took deep breaths thr
ough his nose until his breathing steadied. Then he ran his hand down his sweat-drenched face before rolling to his side and focusing on the clock. Midnight.

  He rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes and then sat up, throwing his long legs over the side of the bed. He’d give anything for a full night of sleep, but that would never be possible again. Every time he closed his eyes he would relive that horrible day. This would be his lifelong punishment for not saving his younger brother.

  Chris stepped over to the window, raised the green shade, and looked out toward Emily’s house. He imagined her asleep in her bed, and he closed his eyes, trying to remove that image from his mind. He had to stop thinking about her before he drove himself crazy. Emily was nothing more than an acquaintance, and that was all she’d ever be to him. Yet he couldn’t stop his senses from remembering the feel of her leg brushing his and the color of her eyes in the light of the lanterns.

  Why was he torturing himself by even thinking about her? Emily was . . . unattainable.

  Chris yanked himself away from the window, pulled on a pair of trousers, grabbed the lantern from his nightstand, and quietly walked down to the kitchen. After drinking a glass of water, he stepped out onto the porch, enjoying the cool air as it seeped into his skin through his trousers and T-shirt. He always woke up numb after the nightmares, and the sensation of the cold biting at his skin was better than feeling nothing at all.

  He looked over at the harness shop. He could locate the key and then work until exhaustion overtook him, but work wasn’t permitted on Sundays. Although it was after midnight, he still didn’t feel comfortable breaking the rules that had been pressed upon him since childhood. His eyes moved to the pasture. He decided to take a walk, and went inside to slip on his boots.

  Holding the lantern at his side, Chris trudged toward the pasture fence, hoping exhaustion would find him and obliterate all thoughts of both Gabriel and Emily.

  CHAPTER 6

  CHRIS’S EYES FLEW OPEN AND LIGHT POURED INTO THE ROOM from the sliver of space between the edge of the green shade and the window casing. Where was he? What day was it?

  Then the sleep haze clogging his brain dissipated. Chris was at his uncle Hank’s house, and it was Tuesday morning. He’d awoken after a nightmare at one in the morning, and instead of walking around the pasture as he’d done the night before, he found the key to the harness shop and made key chains until exhaustion robbed him of his focus.

  He’d gone back to bed around five thirty. Now it was nearly ten, and he needed to get to work before his uncle fired him and threw him out of the house. Where would he go if he lost his job at the harness shop?

  Chris quickly rose from the bed and dressed. Once downstairs, he expected to find Aenti Tillie in the kitchen, but the house was empty and silent. He stood by the counter, trying to decide what to do. He craved something to eat, but this wasn’t his house or his kitchen. Since he didn’t feel at liberty to search through the cabinets without asking permission, Chris stepped out onto the porch and then walked to the harness shop, his work boots crunching on the rock path.

  When he entered the shop, he saw Emily at the counter, working on the books. She glanced up at him, and when she smiled, his heart stuttered. She seemed to glow with her blue dress complementing her eyes.

  Chris had missed her since they hadn’t spoken since Sunday evening. He’d only seen her from afar yesterday when she was outside hanging laundry on the line. He’d hoped she would stop by the harness shop to say hello, but she hadn’t come by.

  Why was he allowing himself to get attached to her?

  “Gude mariye,” she said.

  Chris attempted to speak, but his response was interrupted by his uncle.

  “Christopher!” Onkel Hank crossed the showroom floor and stood beside him. “I can see you were busy last night.”

  Christopher’s cheeks were aflame with embarrassment.

  “You made nearly a dozen key chains. When did you work?” Onkel Hank asked with concern in his brown eyes.

  Chris was keenly aware of Emily’s gaze locked on him. He lifted his straw hat and raked his hand through his hair. “I think I was here from about one until a little after four.”

  “Why?” Leroy approached from behind Onkel Hank. “Are you ill?”

  Could this get any more humiliating? Chris longed to crawl under the counter to hide from the three sets of curious eyes scrutinizing him. “No, I’m not ill. I have insomnia.”

  He turned toward Emily, and the concern in her face twisted something deep in his gut.

  Chris’s stomach growled, increasing the shame already suffocating him. Why hadn’t he stayed in bed this morning?

  Because I can’t afford to lose this job.

  He folded his arms across his abdomen in a futile attempt to silence his hunger.

  “Have you eaten?” Onkel Hank asked.

  “No. I didn’t see Aenti Tillie, and I wasn’t sure what I could eat.”

  “Don’t be gegisch, Christopher,” Onkel Hank said with a laugh. “You can eat anything you want. Meihaus is your haus, remember?”

  “Tillie went shopping with mei mamm this morning,” Emily chimed in.

  “Oh.” Chris’s stomach roared again and he longed for this embarrassment to end.

  “Go get something to eat,” Onkel Hank said.

  “But I’m already late. I don’t want to abuse my position here.”

  “Abuse your position here?” Onkel Hank laughed again. “You’re working circles around us old guys. You accomplished more in the wee hours of the morning than we do some days. Go eat something and then come back.”

  Emily came around the end of the counter and stood beside Chris. “We have plenty of food.” She looked at her father. “Is it all right if I make Christopher breakfast at our haus? We won’t be gone long.”

  “Sure.” Leroy shrugged. “Go ahead.”

  Chris shook his head while looking down at her. “No, I don’t want to impose. I can’t let you—”

  “Go on,” Onkel Hank said. “Take your time.”

  “Let’s go.” Emily looked up at him.

  Chris reluctantly followed her to the door. What would they possibly discuss while they were alone?

  “WHAT DO YOU LIKE TO EAT?” EMILY ASKED AS SHE WALKED beside Christopher up the path to her parents’ house.

  “Oh, I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Anything really. You don’t have to do this. I can make some toast and find some peanut butter.”

  “I don’t mind,” she insisted. “I like to cook.”

  “That makes one of us,” he muttered, and she laughed.

  Christopher looked over at her and raised an eyebrow, causing her to laugh again. He was adorable. No, he was handsome, the most handsome man she’d ever met, but he was also the saddest. She longed to break through his cold exterior and force him to talk to her. She had so many questions she wanted him to answer.

  They approached the porch and Christopher slowed, allowing her to climb the steps first and open the back door. He followed her into the mudroom and then stepped into the kitchen behind her.

  “Have a seat.” She crossed the kitchen and began to open cabinets in search of food. “What do you like besides peanut butter toast?”

  Christopher sat at the table. “I’m not picky.”

  “Okay.” Emily faced him while standing by the counter. “Do you like eggs, bacon, and potatoes?”

  “Oh no. You don’t have to make all of that for me.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” She pulled two frying pans out of a cabinet and set them on the stove.

  “Emily, you really don’t have to go to so much trouble for me.”

  She spun and gasped. He was standing right behind her. He towered over her, and she hadn’t until that moment realized just how tall he was. He looked to be as tall as her brother-in-law, Jason, if not taller. For a moment, she couldn’t speak.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He gave her an embarrassed grin.
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  “It’s okay.” Emily pointed toward the table. “Go sit, and I’ll get started.”

  Christopher paused and seemed to be thinking about something. “Fine,” he finally said. “But I’ll have to make this up to you somehow. I’ll do the dishes.”

  She retrieved a carton of eggs, a potato, and bacon from the refrigerator. “You will not do the dishes, Christopher, and I—”

  “Call me Chris.”

  “What?” She glanced over her shoulder at him as she broke the first of two eggs into a bowl to scramble them.

  “I said you can call me Chris.” He sat with his elbow resting on the table, chin in his palm. Was he going to fall asleep while she cooked his breakfast? “Mei freinden call me Chris.”

  “Oh, but Hank and Tillie always call you Christopher.” She poured the eggs into one of the pans.

  “I think it’s like a parent thing,” Chris said. “Do you have a nickname?”

  “Mei freinden and schweschdere sometimes call me Em.” She started chopping the potato as she spoke.

  “Do your parents call you that?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I see what you mean. So your parents call you Christopher?”

  “Ya.” His face hardened with anger, or maybe it was frustration. “All the time. I’m never Chris to them.”

  “That’s interesting.”

  His smile returned, and Emily swallowed a sigh of relief. “Parents are always formal, but our freinden use the nicknames. I can’t stand it when mei freinden call me Christopher. I always feel like I’m in trouble for something.”

  Emily made a mental note to never call him Christopher again. She slid the slices of potatoes into the second pan and then flipped his eggs.

  “I feel faul sitting here while you do all the work.” His tone held a hint of teasing, and she suppressed a grin. Was she finally breaking through his wall?

  “Don’t be gegisch,” she scolded. “You worked during the wee hours of this morning. You’re certainly not a faulenzer. Do you like cheese with your eggs?”

 

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