The Half-Stitched Amish Quilting Club Read online

  © 2012 by Wanda E. Brunstetter

  Print ISBN 978-1-60260-811-5

  eBook Editions:

  Adobe Digital Edition (.epub) 978-1-60742-832-9

  Kindle and MobiPocket Edition (.prc) 978-1-60742-833-6

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the publisher.

  Note: The words to the following songs used in this book were written by Wally Nason: “Never,” “Falling Star,” and “You Saw Me.” Used with permission by Nasun Music Group, 2011.

  Scripture is taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

  Scripture is also taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

  All German-Dutch words are taken from the Revised Pennsylvania German Dictionary found in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.

  Cover photography: Bradon Hill Photos

  Interior cover photography: Doyle Yoder Photography

  Special thanks to Little Helpers Quilt Shop in Shipshewana for allowing us to use their quilt and costumes.

  For more information about Wanda E. Brunstetter, please access the author’s website at the following Internet address: www.wandabrunstetter.com

  Published by Barbour Publishing, Inc., P.O. Box 719, Uhrichsville, OH 44683, www.barbourbooks.com

  Our mission is to publish and distribute inspirational products offering exceptional value and biblical encouragement to the masses.

  Printed in the United States of America.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Epilogue

  Recipe for Emma Yoder’s Angel Cream Pie

  About the Author

  Discussion Questions

  Dedication

  To all my dear Amish friends who live in Indiana.

  Each one of you is special to me.

  A special thanks to Wally Nason, Mel Riegsecker, Dan Posthuma, and Martha Bolton for your creative suggestions.

  The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and saveth such as be of a contrite spirit.

  PSALM 34:18 KJV

  PROLOGUE

  Shipshewana, Indiana

  Emma Yoder’s hands shook as a single thought popped into her head. What if I fail?

  She eased into a chair at the kitchen table and drank from her cup of chamomile tea, hoping it would calm her jangled nerves. When she glanced at the battery-operated clock on the far wall and realized it was 9:45 a.m., her stomach tightened. Half an hour from now she would begin teaching her first quilting class—and to folks she had never met. Some she’d spoken to on the phone, but a few of the reservations had been made by relatives of those who’d be attending.

  Emma had made many quilted items to sell on consignment at one of the local quilt shops and had taught several of her family members how to quilt. But teaching strangers would be different. Those who’d signed up for her six-week class could be from all walks of life. Would they understand everything she taught them? Would her instructions be clear enough? When the classes were complete, would she be able to find more students? All these questions swam around in her head, but she refused to let doubt take over.

  The back door opened, bringing Emma’s thoughts to a halt. Her daughter, Mary, who’d recently turned thirty-two, stepped into the room and sniffed the air. “Umm … Do I smell peanut butter cookies?” Mary asked, pulling out the chair beside Emma and taking a seat.

  Emma nodded. “I baked a few dozen this morning. I’m just waiting on the last batch.” She motioned to the cooling racks, filled with fresh cookies. “I’m planning to serve them to my quilting class, but feel free to have a couple if you like.”

  “No thanks. I’m still full from breakfast.” Mary’s brow wrinkled. “Are you sure you really want to do this, Mom?”

  In an effort to keep Mary from knowing how apprehensive she felt, Emma smiled and said, “Jah, I’m very sure. Learning to quilt will give my students an opportunity to create something beautiful and lasting.” She took another sip of tea, letting the smooth taste of chamomile roll around on her tongue and then settle her uneasy stomach. “Perhaps after my students learn the basics of quilting and make a small wall hanging, they might want to try something larger.” Emma felt more optimistic as she talked. The thought of sharing her love for quilting gave her a sense of excitement and purpose.

  Mary opened her mouth to say something more, but a knock on the front door interrupted them.

  Emma jumped, nearly knocking over her cup of tea. “That must be one of my students. Surely none of our friends or relatives would use the front door.”

  “Would you like me to answer it?” Mary asked.

  “Jah, please do. Show them into my sewing room, and as soon as I take the cookies from the oven, I’ll be right in.”

  Mary, looking a bit hesitant, pushed her chair away from the table and hurried from the room.

  Emma opened the oven door and took a peek. The cookies were a nice golden brown, perfectly shaped, and smelled as good as they looked. She slipped on her oven mitt, lifted the baking sheet from the oven, and quickly transferred the cookies to a cooling rack.

  As she stepped out of the kitchen, she nearly collided with Mary. “Are my students here?” Emma asked.

  “Jah, but Mom, are you truly certain you want to teach this quilting class?” Mary’s face was flushed, and her dark eyes reflected obvious concern. “I mean, you might reconsider when you see how—”

  “Of course I want to teach the class.” Emma gave Mary’s arm a gentle pat. “Now go on home to your family. I’ll talk to you later and tell you how it all went.”

  “But, I—I really think you should know that—”

  “Don’t worry, Mary. I’ll be just fine.”

  Mary hesitated but gave Emma a hug. “Come and get me if you need any help,” she called as she scooted out the back door.

  Drawing in a quick breath, Emma entered her sewing room and halted. A man and a woman who appeared to be in their midthirties sat in two of the folding chairs, scowling at each other. To the couple’s left sat a middle-aged African-American woman with short, curly hair. On their right, a pleasant-looking Hispanic man held a baby girl on his lap.

  Sitting across from this group of people was a young woman wearing a black sweatshirt with the hood pulled over her head. A look of defiance showed clearly in her dark eyes, ac
centuated by her heavy black makeup. On the young woman’s left sat a big burly man with several tattoos and a black biker’s bandana on his head.

  Feeling a bit overwhelmed, Emma grabbed the edge of her sewing machine to steady herself. Ach, my! No wonder Mary looked so flustered. Such a variety of unexpected people have come here today! What in the world have I gotten myself into?

  CHAPTER 1

  Three weeks earlier

  As Emma stepped into the spacious sewing room her late husband had added onto their house, a sense of nostalgia settled over her. Ivan had passed away thirteen months ago after a massive heart attack. Emma still missed his cheerful smile and easygoing ways, but she was getting on with her life—keeping busy in her garden and flower beds, working on various quilting projects, and of course, spending time with her beloved family. One thing that bothered her, though, was feeling forced to rely on her grown children so much. Mary and her family lived on the property next door, and ever since Ivan’s death, they’d been helping Emma with numerous chores, not to mention contributing money toward her financial obligations. But Mary and her husband, Brian, had five children to support, and Emma’s oldest daughter, Sarah, who lived in LaGrange, Indiana, had eight children. Emma’s sons, Richard and Ethan, had moved their families to Oklahoma two years ago, and they each had two boys and four girls. All of Emma’s children had been giving her money, even though none of them could really afford it. Emma had sold only a few quilts lately, so with the hope of earning enough money to be self-sufficient, two weeks ago she’d placed an ad in a couple of local newspapers and put some notices on several bulletin boards in the area, offering to give quilting lessons in her home. So far, she’d only had one response, and that was from a woman who wanted to reserve a spot for her granddaughter. But Emma was hopeful that more reservations would come in.

  Pulling her thoughts aside, Emma took a seat at her sewing machine to begin piecing a quilted table runner. Sewing gave her a sense of peace and satisfaction, and as her foot pumped the treadle in a rhythmic motion, she began to hum. While many of the Amish women in the area had begun using battery-operated sewing machines, Emma preferred to sew the old-fashioned way, as her mother and grandmother had done. However, she did have a battery-operated machine as well, which she would let her quilting students use when she was teaching them. She also planned to borrow one of Mary’s sewing machines.

  Emma had only been sewing a short time when she heard the back door open. “I’m in here!” she called, knowing it was probably Mary.

  Sure enough, Mary entered the room. “Brian’s off to work at the trailer factory, and the kinner just left for school, so I’m free to help you pull weeds in your garden or flower beds today.”

  “I appreciate the offer,” Emma said, “but I’d planned to get some sewing done today. I also want to line out everything I’ll need when my quilt classes begin.”

  Tiny wrinkles creased Mary’s forehead as she took a seat in one of the folding chairs near the table Emma used to cut out material. “Are you sure you want to do this, Mom? What if no one else responds?”

  Emma shrugged. “I’m not worried. If the good Lord wants me to supplement my income by giving quilting lessons, then He will send students. I’m trusting, waiting, and hoping, which to me are all connected like strands of thread that form strong stitches.”

  Mary’s lips compressed as she twirled around her finger the ribbon strings attached to her stiff white head covering. “I wish I had your unwavering faith, Mom. You’re always so sure about things.”

  “I just try to put my confidence in the Lord. Remember, Hebrews 11:1 says, ‘Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.’” Emma smiled, feeling more confident as she spoke. “I believe God gave me the idea to teach quilting, and if my choices and desires are in His will, then everything will work out as it should. And if for some reason no one else signs up for this class, then I’ll put another ad in the paper.”

  Mary leaned over, and her fingers traced the edge of the beautiful Double Wedding Ring quilt draped over one of Emma’s wooden quilting racks. Emma planned to give it to a friend’s daughter who’d be getting married this fall, and it was nearly finished. “You do such fine work, Mom. Thanks to your patient teaching, all the women in our family have learned to quilt, and I’m sure the younger girls will learn from you as well.”

  Emma started the treadle moving again as she pieced another strip of material to the runner that was nicely taking shape. “It gives me pleasure to teach others, and if teaching quilting classes will add to my income so I won’t have to rely on my family for everything, then so much the better.”

  “Families are supposed to help each other,” Mary reminded. “And we don’t mind at all, because we love you.”

  “I love you, too, and I appreciate all the help you’ve given me since your daed died, but I feel guilty taking money from all of you when you have growing families to raise. I really want to make it on my own if possible.”

  “If you’re determined not to let us help you financially, then I suppose you could consider getting married again. I think Lamar Miller might be attracted to you, and from what I’ve seen, I believe he’d make a good—”

  Emma held up her hand. “Please, don’t even go there. I loved your daed very much, and I’m not the least bit interested in getting married again.”

  “You may feel that way now, but someday you might feel differently. Lamar’s a lonely widower, and I don’t think he’ll wait forever to find another fraa.”

  “I’m not asking him to wait. Maybe he’ll take an interest in Clara Bontrager or Amanda Herschberger. I think either of them would make Lamar a good wife.”

  “Aren’t you interested in him at all?”

  Emma shook her head.

  “Well, I’m sure he’s attracted to you. Why, it wasn’t more than a few weeks after he moved here from Wisconsin to be close to his daughter that he started coming around to see you.”

  “I know, and I wish he would quit.” Emma peered at Mary over the top of her metal-framed glasses, which she wore for reading and close-up work. “It’s time for me to make a new start, and I’m excited about teaching the quilting classes. Fact is I can hardly wait to see who God sends my way.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Goshen, Indiana

  The mournful howl of the neighbor’s dog caused Ruby Lee Williams to cringe. The infuriating beagle had been carrying on all morning, and it was grating on her nerves. Of course, everything seemed to irritate her these days: the phone ringing, a knock at the door, long lines at the grocery store, the TV turned up a notch too loud. Even a simple thing like the steady hum of the refrigerator could set her teeth on edge.

  Ruby Lee poured herself a cup of coffee, picked up the morning’s newspaper, and took a seat at the kitchen table, determined to focus on something other than the dog next door, now alternating its piercing howls with boisterous barks. It was either that or march on over to the neighbors’ and demand that they do something with their mutt.

  “But that wouldn’t be the neighborly thing to do,” she murmured. For the past two weeks, the Abbots had attended the church Ruby Lee’s husband, Gene, pastored, and she didn’t want to say or do anything that might drive them away. It was bad enough that Ruby Lee felt like running away.

  Inside their newly purchased home, everything was finally in its place after moving a month ago from the parsonage, which was owned by the church. Both Ruby Lee and Gene were in their late forties, and thinking a new house would be where they would retire, they’d decided that a one-story home would be the most practical. But they’d instantly fallen in love with this older brick house, even though it was a two-story and would mean climbing stairs to their bedroom. Compared to all the homes they’d looked at over the winter months, it was hard to pass up a place that was in such good condition and so reasonably priced. The house was solid, and the freshly painted rooms cheerful—not to mention the hardwood floors that shined like a
basketball court. Ruby Lee was thrilled with the large windows throughout the house and the charming window seats that had been built into most of the rooms. With the exception of the kitchen and two bathrooms, she could sit on the seats in any of the rooms and enjoy looking out at different parts of their yard. The front and back yards were neatly manicured, and the lovely flower beds were weed free—at least for the moment. With the exception of the sometimes-noisy neighbors’ dog, this house was perfect for her and Gene’s needs. Now if everything else in their life would just fall into place as nicely as the moving and unpacking had done, Ruby Lee could finally relax.

  This morning Ruby Lee had e-mailed her friend Annette Rogers, who lived in Nashville. She’d intended to unburden her soul but had ended up sending a casual message, asking how Annette and her family were and mentioning the beautiful spring weather they’d been having in northeastern Indiana. Ruby Lee had been there for Annette when she’d gone through breast cancer surgery five years ago, but things were now going well in her friend’s life, and Ruby Lee didn’t want to burden Annette with her own problems. Besides, she hoped the issues they were facing at church might soon work themselves out.

  Maybe I just need a diversion, she thought. Something other than directing the choir, playing the hymns and choruses every Sunday, and heading up the women’s ministries. What I need is something fun to do that’s outside of the church.

  Ruby Lee turned to the ad section of the newspaper and scanned a few columns, stopping when she came to a small ad offering quilting lessons. Hmm … I wonder if this might be something I should do. I could make a quilt for one of our elderly shut-ins or maybe a quilted wall hanging for our home. Now that all the boxes are unpacked and I’ve arranged the rooms, I need something—anything—to take my mind off of the church troubles.

  Elkhart, Indiana

  “Hey, sweet girl,” Paul Ramirez said to his nine-month-old daughter, Sophia, as he carried her from the Loving Hands Daycare Center out to his van. “Were you a good little girl today?”