A Wild Goose Chase Christmas: Quilts of Love Series by Jennifer Allee

help me to know why you were interested in it in the first place.”
    “I’m putting together a new exhibit at the museum and that quilt is the focal point.”
    Izzy sighed. For some reason, Max seemed to only want to dole out small bits of information. It could take forever to get to the bottom of this. “OK, so you need a quilt as part of your exhibit. But why Gran’s quilt? What makes it so special?”
    “The provenance.”
    “Provenance is the backstory of a piece,” Virgil said, gently tapping her shoulder.
    Izzy glanced at him and smiled. After years of watching Antiques Roadshow on PBS, she was familiar with provenance, but she was happy to let him think he’d just taught her something new.
    “Well, I’m at a disadvantage,” she said, looking back to Max. “Because other than the fact that it’s a Wild Goose Chase pattern, I don’t know anything about the quilt.”
    “It’s pretty amazing. According to Isabella, the quilt was started by one of her relatives back in the 1800s. Over the years, it was passed down from one woman to the next until it was completed.”
    “You mean one woman didn’t sew the entire quilt?”
    Max shook his head. “No. Remember, the quilting was done by hand, so it took a while. As a rule, the material was hard to come by. It was a fairly common practice for quilts to be passed down from one generation to the next until they were finished.” Max leaned closer now, his eyes wide, a grin lifting one corner of his mouth. “What’s special about this quilt is that it was started in Vermont and it ended up in California. It was worked on by the very pioneer women who helped settle our nation. If that quilt could talk, imagine the stories it could tell.”
    If that quilt could talk, maybe it could tell Izzy why Gran never told her about it. That part still made no sense. But then, neither did so many of the events of the last week.
    “That’s great, but surely it’s not the only quilt to be brought across country.”
    Max’s brows scrunched together, as if he were trying to process what she’d just said. “No, I’m sure it’s not. But it’s one of the few to have documentation.”
    “Documentation?”
    Virgil tapped her shoulder again. “That’s—”
    “I know what it is,” she said, not feeling the need to indulge him for a second time. “I’m not sure what kind of documentation you’re talking about.”
    Now the trace of Max’s grin vanished. “Mrs. Randolph said she had diaries that belonged to the women who made the quilt. Don’t you have them?”
    Izzy shook her head slowly. “Not that I know of. It’s possible Gran could have them in the house somewhere, but I don’t know where.”
    “It’s very important that you find them.” Max reached out and his fingers closed around her wrist. His grip was firm, not enough to hurt her, but enough that she knew he was serious. “They’re just as valuable as the quilt.”
    “What’s valuable?”
    Brandon’s voice broke into their conversation and Izzy looked up to see her brother walking across the room, his suit jacket slung over one arm. She jumped to her feet. “How’s Mom?”
    “Pretty beat up.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “She broke her leg and dislocated her shoulder. She’ll be in pain for a while, but she’s going to be all right.”
    “When can we take her home?”
    “Not until tomorrow. She’s got a bruise on her head, so they’re keeping her overnight for observation. Just to be sure. But when they do release her … uh …” He took a deep breath then blew it out with force. “She’s going to have to move in with you.”
    “What?” Izzy took a step back and ran her calf into the chair.
    “It’s just temporary,” Brandon rushed on, waving his palm at her. “She can barely walk and she’s got a bum arm. There’s no way she can stay by herself.”
    “Can’t she stay with you?”
    “My condo’s two stories and the bathroom is on the second floor,