Seasons in Paradise. Barbara Cameron

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      Her mudder hugged her, and Mary Elizabeth inhaled the scent of lavender her mudder grew and liked to tuck into her dresser drawers.

      “Sweet dreams, lieb. See you in the morning.”

      She smiled. “See you in the morning. Tell Daed gut nacht.”

      “I will.”

      “And Mamm? Danki.”

      Her mudder smiled and left the room. Mary Elizabeth climbed into her bed and pulled her quilt up around her shoulders. And slept.

      Chapter 3

      3

      A vase full of sunny daffodils sat on a nearby table, but it looked like Christmas in the Zook sewing room.

      When you sewed authentic Amish quilts for a shop patronized by tourists visiting Paradise, Pennsylvania, you started sewing them days after the last Christmas and worked on them up until the week before the next one.

      The Zook women didn’t mind. All of them loved working on the quilts whether they were traditional Amish quilts or more modern Christmas-themed ones.

      Linda, their mudder, was humming a Christmas hymn to get them in a festive mood. Lavina and Rose Anna joined her but Mary Elizabeth wasn’t feeling particularly joyful today. Matter of fact, she thought it better suited her mood to work on an Old Maid’s Puzzle quilt. But they didn’t have an order to make one so for now, she needed to work on one of the quilts Leah had commissioned.

      She watched Lavina sewing a quilt with big, bright scarlet poinsettias. Before she’d married David Stoltzfus, she’d sat with them sewing every day. Now that she had to run her own home she couldn’t always join them every day, but she managed three or four days a week.

      Their sewing room was an explosion of color in fabric and yarn set on shelves her dat had built. He often chided them that they had enough fabric to start their own store but they knew he was teasing them—especially when he just built more shelves without being asked.

      Each of them had chosen a Christmas quilt pattern. Mary Elizabeth stitched on the snowflake quilt, her mudder, a log cabin pattern with Christmas touches of holly leaves and berries, and Rose Anna cut pieces of fabric for a wall hanging with a family of snow people.

      Mary Elizabeth found her thoughts wandering back to the conversation she’d had with Sam several days ago. She frowned as she remembered how she’d gotten so frustrated—nee, angry—that she’d gotten out of the truck and tried to walk back home. He’d followed her, trying to persuade her to get back into the truck. If it hadn’t been raining, if lightning hadn’t slashed across the sky, she’d never have gotten into his truck.

      She knew it was childish of her, but she’d needed to work off her anger. Pacing her bedroom after she got home hadn’t helped.

      He was never returning home. And he hadn’t asked her to follow him into the Englisch world.

      It was time to think about seeing someone else. There was a singing this Sunday after church. She’d be going . . .

      “Time for a break,” Linda announced. She stood and put her quilt down on her chair.

      Rose Anna, always ready for a break, jumped up and followed her from the room.

      “Do you want to talk about it?” Lavina asked her quietly.

      “About a break?”

      “You know what I mean.”

      “I guess it’s no secret that Sam and I went for a drive to talk about us, is it? Or talk about how there isn’t an ‘us’?” Mary Elizabeth frowned as she set her quilt down.

      Lavina shook her head and looked at her with a sympathetic expression.

      “Well, too often people say they know how someone feels, but you really do know.” Mary Elizabeth said.

      “When David left the community he was gone a year. It was a very long year.”

      “At least he came back. Sam doesn’t want to. And that seems to be his last word on the subject.”

      “I’m so sorry.”

      Mary Elizabeth found herself blinking back tears. Determined not to cry, she took a deep breath and rose. “Well, now I know. So, I’ve decided I’m going to the singing on Sunday. I’m not moping another minute over Sam Stoltzfus.”

      Lavina hugged her. “I’m happy for you if that’s what you want.”

      “It wasn’t what I wanted, but it’s what I have to do.”

      “Lavina? Mary Elizabeth? Are you coming down?” their mudder called.

      “Be right there!” Lavina called back. She turned to Mary Elizabeth. “Do you want me to bring some tea up to you?”

      Mary Elizabeth shook her head. “Mamm or Rose Anna would just ask what’s wrong. You won’t say anything?”

      “Of course not.”

      They went downstairs and Mary Elizabeth found to her delight that her grosseldres were joining them for tea and cookies in the kitchen. She’d missed them so much this past winter when they visited Pinecraft, Florida.

      Miriam, her grossmudder, was scolding Abraham, her mann, for piling a half- dozen cookies on his plate. “You’ll spoil your supper,” she chided and she tried to look stern, but her blue eyes twinkled.

      “Gut to see you, Grossmudder, Grossdaadi.” Mary Elizabeth leaned down to kiss the top of his snowy white head. She giggled as he drew her into a hug and rubbed his beard over her cheek. She’d always loved the way it tickled.

      Bending, she kissed her grossmudder’s wrinkled cheek. “Don’t worry, Grossmudder. You know he’ll be hungry for supper when it’s time.”

      Abraham bobbed his head. “Never missed a meal. Especially the ones my fraa cooked for me.” He gave Linda a fond look. “Not that you’re not a wunderbaar cook.”

      She smiled as she poured tea. “You’d best say so since I’m cooking supper tonight.”

      Mary Elizabeth took a seat at the table and watched her gross-eldres as they exchanged loving looks, pats on the hands resting on the table between them. What must it be like to love like that? she wondered. Love for so many years?

      “Cookie?” Lavina asked, holding them in front of her to get her attention.

      She took one. They were her favorites—her mamm’s oatmeal cookies with butterscotch morsels. Her mudder would ask her if she wasn’t feeling well if she didn’t eat one or two.

      But it tasted dry and bitter in her mouth.

      As soon as she could, she escaped upstairs to the sewing room, claiming she had quilting class tomorrow and didn’t want to get behind. She was able to sit with her own depressing thoughts and sew for some time before the others joined her.

      When she found herself sighing and СКАЧАТЬ