Publisher: Amy Marson
Creative Director: Gailen Runge
Acquisitions Editor: Roxane Cerda
Managing Editor: Liz Aneloski
Project Writer: Teresa Stroin
Technical Editor / Illustrator: Linda Johnson
Cover/Book Designer: April Mostek
Production Coordinator: Tim Manibusan
Production Editor: Alice Mace Nakanishi
Photo Assistant: Mai Yong Vang
Cover photography by Lucy Glover and Mai Yong Vang of C&T Publishing, Inc.
Cover quilt: Memories of Home, 2014, by the author
Published by C&T Publishing, Inc., P.O. Box 1456, Lafayette, CA 94549
A Quilting Cozy Series
by Carol Dean Jones
Left Holding the Bag (book 10)
Tattered & Torn (book 9)
Missing Memories (book 8)
The Rescue Quilt (book 7)
Moon Over the Mountain (book 6)
Stitched Together (book 5)
Patchwork Connections (book 4)
Sea Bound (book 3)
Running Stitches (book 2)
Tie Died (book 1)
Acknowledgments
My sincere appreciation goes out to my special friends Phyllis Inscoe and Janice Packard.
I thank each of you for the many hours you spent reading and re-reading these chapters, for bringing the plot inconsistencies to my attention, for finding the many errors that were so arrogantly ignored by the spelling software and especially for providing the endless support that is so needed in what could otherwise be a very lonely task.
Prologue
Martha turned her headlights off and drove slowly past her house. The black car was parked across the street. There was no moon, but even in the dark of night, she recognized the car. It had been outside her house frequently over the past few weeks. It was sometimes in her office parking lot. Occasionally she would see it in her rearview mirror as she drove. She reported it to the police, but no laws had been broken. At least not yet.
She attempted to garner enough courage to stop and confront the driver, but fear held her back. As she passed the car, she could make out a shadowy figure and the red tip of a burning cigarette.
Martha turned left at the next corner and again into the alley behind her house. Trembling, she slipped out of the car and hurried into the house. She grabbed her phone to call the police but went to the window and, as always, the car was gone.
She hung up without dialing. Again.
Chapter 1
“I can’t possibly manage the shop while you’re away, Ruth! I know nothing about running a quilt shop!” Sarah exclaimed.
“Sarah!” Ruth retorted. “You managed the largest grocery store in Middletown for years! It’s no different. And you’ll have help! Anna and Geoff do all the online sales, and she’ll take care of the inventory. I’m sure Anna can spend a few hours with you in the shop when you need her, and you can close at night until I come back if you want. Please think about it,” Ruth pleaded.
Sarah walked around the quilt shop wondering what it would be like to work there. She knew what her hesitation was, but she didn’t tell Ruth. Sarah had only been quilting for a couple of years, and she often heard customers asking Ruth questions she would never be able to answer. She wanted to talk about that with Ruth, but she was embarrassed. She knew Ruth would assure her she could handle it, but when it came to quilting, Ruth had far more confidence in her than she had in herself.
She loved being in the shop. There were quilts hanging on every available wall, and the bolts displayed a dazzling rainbow of color when customers stepped into the shop.
“What about the classes?” Sarah asked. “I can’t teach classes.”
“We can postpone the winter classes, or I can try to find a teacher to come in. Actually, I was wondering if you might want to teach one of the classes you took on the quilting cruise.” Sarah had just returned from an exciting Caribbean quilting cruise.
“Me?” Sarah wailed. “I’m no teacher.”
“I think you would be a great teacher, Sarah, but right now I need you in the shop.”
“Let me get back to you tomorrow, Ruth. I know you need to make your plans, so I’ll decide quickly. By the way, how’s your mother? Have you heard anything?”
“She doesn’t have long. She’s insisted on staying at home, and I guess that’s best. All the hospital can do is prolong her life, and she’s ready to go. Papa wanted to be at home, too, but he died in the hospital. That must have felt so alien to him,” she added sadly.
Ruth was born Amish and lived in Ohio until she was seventeen. She went away to art school during her rumspringa, that time that Amish young people spend outside of their community to make sure they are ready to commit to the Amish way of life. While away, she met Nathan and they were married. Ruth’s father rejected them both and, for many years, Ruth lived outside her community and away from her family.
Ruth’s mother was not as adamant about it, and now that her husband was gone, she wanted to spend her last days with Ruth, perhaps to make up for lost years.
“I could ask Katie to take a semester off and come work in the shop, but she’s doing so well! I just can’t bring myself to do that to her.”
“Absolutely not, Ruth! Don’t do that. Your daughter is exactly where she should be. We’ll work this out some way. I want to talk with Charles, and I’ll call you in the morning.”
“Thank you, Sarah,” Ruth said as she hugged her friend. “I appreciate that you would even consider it. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Sarah left the shop and returned home through the park. It was a cool October afternoon with a bite in the air. She wished she had brought Barney. He loved walking into town, and he was such good company. If he were with me now, I’d talk this over with him, and he would look at me with his big brown eyes full of love and wag his tail. Sarah adopted Barney from the Humane Society when she first moved to Cunningham Village. He helped her adjust to life in a retirement community by giving her love, an excuse to go out walking in the neighborhood, and someone to share her new life.
Arriving home, she scratched Barney’s ears and opened the back door for him, again feeling thankful she had enclosed the backyard with a fence. She then put in a call to Charles. “How about dinner?” she asked when he answered. He agreed immediately, and they decided to drive into town for Chinese food. She had been seeing Charles for over a year, and it was becoming evident to both of them that this was much more than a friendship. Sarah was aware that Charles was in love with her, but she had been reluctant to face her own feelings. When she lost her husband, Jonathan, she had been devastated, and didn’t expect to ever fall in love again. However, if she were honest with herself, she would have to admit that is precisely what had happened. At seventy years old, she was in love!
“Let’s go see Sophie,” she said to Barney. He jumped up from his spot in the kitchen and ran in a circle before clumsily pulling his leash off the hook and dropping it at Sarah’s feet. It wasn’t that he understood all of what she said, but the word go was enough for him!
They walked across the street to Sophie’s house, Barney sniffing the entire way. Despite her raucous personality, Sophie had been Sarah’s closest friend and confidant since she moved to the village. Sophie was in her mid-seventies and rotund with a contagious laugh and an endless repertoire of hilarious stories. She also had a heart of gold and was the best friend a person could have.
“Don’t bring that flea magnet into my house,” Sophie said gruffly as she opened the door.
“Sophie! You know you don’t mean that, and you’ve hurt his feelings!” Sarah responded as they followed her into the living room.
As soon as Sophie was seated, Barney hurried over and put his paws on her lap, looking lovingly into her eyes. She surreptitiously slipped a treat from her pocket, which he appeared to inhale before stretching out across her feet. “His feelings don’t look hurt to me,” Sophie grumbled. Barney closed his eyes and sighed deeply.
“I can see you managing Stitches,” Sophie told Sarah after hearing about Ruth’s dilemma, but she didn’t have much sympathy for Sarah’s fears. “I don’t get it! You know how to quilt. You managed Keller’s Market for years. Why not manage Running Stitches?”
“You make it sound so simple, Sophie. What if a customer asks me something I don’t know?”
“Well, let me see now.” Sophie scrunched up her face, held her head, and faked deep concentration for a few moments. She suddenly looked up with surprise and said, “I’ve got it! You say, ‘I don’t know!’”
“Oh, Sophie. I guess I’m just scared, and I shouldn’t let that stop me.”
“… and you could take Barney with you.”
“Really?” Sarah responded, brightening up. She hadn’t thought of that, but it would be fun having him there with her. Ruth had encouraged her to bring him anytime, and many of the customers had gotten to know him. “I would feel better with him there for some reason.”
By the time Charles arrived that evening, Sarah had just about decided to take on the challenge. A few minutes with Charles concluded the debate. She had expected the evening to be about deciding what to do and, instead, it turned out to be a celebration of a new adventure.
Chapter 2
Sarah’s daughter, Martha, was forty-three years old. She had been married briefly in her twenties but never discussed the reasons behind the breakup, at least not with Sarah. Martha and her mother were very different and, as a result, their relationship suffered over the years. Sarah, with her very positive outlook, enjoyed life and her friends. She was eager for new experiences and open to new ideas. Martha was more like her father who was a very serious-minded and hardworking man.
As a child, Martha had been quiet and somewhat withdrawn. She preferred books to people and, as a result, her grades were exceptional and her social skills nil. She graduated high school at sixteen and received her bachelor’s degree at nineteen, followed immediately by her master’s and her PhD. Sarah was never able to bridge the ever growing chasm between them.
Once Sarah moved into the retirement village, she rarely saw Martha. “She was adamant that I move here,” Sarah told Charles one day when they were discussing family, “but now that I’m here, she seems to have forgotten me.”
“That happens,” Charles had responded. “Don’t take it personally. Our kids have busy lives. They’re building their careers and caring for their own families. They haven’t forgotten us. They’re just busy chasing squeaking wheels.”
“Maybe I should squeak more,” Sarah had responded, “but I doubt she would notice.”
Martha had no family to care for, but she certainly was building her career. She had been working for the same firm for the past fifteen years. As a senior scientist, she was in charge of several contracts providing basic research for the pharmaceutical industry. She never shared the details of her work with the family, dismissing their questions by saying that her work was classified.
Sarah had expressed concern to Charles, hoping that being involved in classified projects didn’t place her daughter in any danger. “More likely,” Charles had responded, “the work is proprietary rather than classified. She probably just needs to avoid any opportunity for project details to be obtained by competitors.”
Martha was a tall, attractive woman, but, unlike her fair-skinned mother, she had an olive complexion that she got from her father’s side of the family. Her hair was brown and cropped short without a sign of gray. Her eyes were hazel and seemed to change with her moods. On the rare occasions that she was relaxed, gold flecks danced against a green background, but Sarah hadn’t seen that sparkle for years. Most of the time, her eyes remained dark and determined.
Martha supervised a group of scientists, some young just out of school and others approaching retirement age. Her coworkers saw her as diligent, task-oriented, and precise. She didn’t attract personal relationships and was seen as being without close friends. That’s what made it so unusual that a man eight years her junior would become attracted to her. No doubt, her cool aloof manner fueled his obsession.
Derek Kettler had transferred into Martha’s department, and less than a year later, she fired him for incompetence. Despite his glowing references and impressive resume, she found him to be unfocused and difficult. He rarely met deadlines and was argumentative when given assignments. If any of his objections had been of value, Martha would have given them consideration, but generally, his arguments were simply self-serving.
Martha was glad to see him leave her department for another reason, although she didn’t dare verbalize it to anyone. He made her feel uncomfortable. She didn’t like the way he looked at her or the way he always seemed to be nearby. He had a habit of asking her personal questions and attempting to engage her in conversations about things outside the office. One day as they were leaving a meeting, he cornered her and asked her to go for drinks after work. Although she thought she had made it very clear that the request was inappropriate, he asked again a week later.
A few months after firing him, Martha received a call from Derek at her home. She briefly wondered why he hadn’t called her at work. As it turned out, he asked her to go to dinner with him. She refused, but he pleaded with her, saying he needed to apologize and explain his poor performance. She told him that nothing he said would change the outcome; his previous position had been filled. Derek adamantly insisted he was not trying to get his job back; he just wanted her to understand. Against her better judgment, she agreed to meet him at The Pelican on Riverside Drive.
The evening at The Pelican was pleasant enough. Derek told Martha about his recent divorce and the loss of contact with his children when his wife moved away. Martha was uncomfortable about the amount of private information he was sharing, feeling these things were too personal to be revealed to a relative stranger. She was yet to realize that he certainly didn’t see her as a stranger. She remained quiet most of the evening just listening.
At the end of the evening, she reiterated that she could not reinstate him, and she thanked him for the meal. He had insisted on picking up the check. She said goodnight, but as she was turning to leave, he reached for her forearm and pulled her toward him, attempting to kiss her. Before she thought about what she was doing, she had slapped him across the face. It was an instinctive move, and she was immediately sorry. They were on a crowded sidewalk outside the restaurant and people stopped to look. He stared at her in disbelief with his hand covering his cheek. “That was a big mistake, lady,” he said coldly.
“I apologize,” she said hesitantly. “You startled me.” Regaining her composer, she added, “… but the mistake was yours. This was certainly not a date, and we have no personal relationship. Touching me was most inappropriate.” His eyes grew black as he stood rigid, staring at her. She felt a chill creep slowly up her spine.
“I need to go,” she said as she turned and walked quickly toward her car. “Good night,” she added as she reached for her keys. He didn’t respond. She hoped he didn’t see her hands shaking as she attempted to unlock the car door. She hoped she could get into the car before he moved toward her.
Once inside, she started the car and pulled away from the curb. By the time she reached the end of the block, she was aware of her growing anger coupled with a feeling of helplessness, a feeling she hadn’t experienced for years. “That man is dangerous,” she told herself as she headed for the safety of home.
* * * * *
Ruth was delighted that Sarah had decided to manage the shop. Sarah was the only person she was willing to trust with this responsibility. She was smart, levelheaded, and she was an experienced manager. If S
arah had refused, Ruth had already decided she would close the shop and just leave the online business running while she was away. Geoff and Anna could manage that part. But she didn’t want to do that since her customers depended on her. Running Stitches was the only quilt shop in Middletown.
Ruth and Sarah met at the shop the next day so that Ruth could show her the basics. Toward the end of the day, they spent several hours going over the computerized accounting system Geoff, her sister Anna’s husband, had developed for the shop. Ruth decided to leave at the end of the week, fearing that her mother might not live more than a few weeks. “Are you comfortable with what you’ve seen so far?” Ruth asked as she walked Sarah to the door.
“Yes, I’m comfortable,” Sarah responded. “But I’ve been thinking that I might call my daughter, Martha, and see if she’d like to come into the shop occasionally on the weekends. I know that’s the only time she has to herself, but I think it would be good for us to spend some time together.”
“That’s a terrific idea, Sarah. If she wants to work week-ends, I’d be happy to pay her.”
“No. I just want her to be here with me. Maybe I can get her interested in some hand stitching while she’s in the shop. I would love to share this part of my life with her. …”
“And,” Ruth interjected, “perhaps she will share a part of her life with you!”
That would be a welcome change, Sarah thought, unaware of the danger that decision would bring into their lives.
Chapter 3
Alan Fitzgerald was in his mid-forties with a cute, boyish look. He reminded Martha of an actor she had become fascinated with when she was only twelve. She had gone to the movie theater in Middletown with her parents to see Privileged, perhaps the first movie with the handsome young British actor Hugh Grant. At forty-three, she still made a point of renting his movies whenever she had a chance. She wished she could be like the women he would fall in love with in these movies but knew she was somehow different.
Patchwork Connections Page 1