The Half-Stitched Amish Quilting Club - 02 - The Tattered Quilt by Wanda E. Brunstetter

the quilt more fully, she saw the pattern in it. “Why, this looks like a traditional Amish wedding-ring quilt. Is your grandmother Amish?”
    “Oh no,” Cheryl said with a shake of her head. “It’s a quilt someone gave her when she got married.”
    “They most likely bought it in an Amish quilt shop,” Anna interjected.
    Emma was pleased to see the girl taking an interest in the quilt. Well, maybe not an interest, but at least she was offering her opinion.
    “Yes, that’s probably how it happened alright.” Cheryl glanced at Emma’s students, sitting around the table with curious expressions. “I apologize if I’ve interrupted something. I really should have called first and made an appointment to bring the quilt by.”
    “That’s all right. We’re having a quilt class,” Emma explained. “This is the first one, and we’ll meet every Saturday for the next six weeks.”
    “That sounds interesting.”
    Emma smiled. “Would you like to join us?”
    “Oh, I don’t know about that.” Cheryl hesitated, tapping her fingernails on the table. “I’m all thumbs when it comes to sewing.”
    “Join the club,” Blaine put in. “None of us here knows anything about making a quilt.”
    “Except for me,” Selma spoke up. “I—I mean, I’ve never made one, but I do know how to sew. Quite well, I might add.”
    Emma turned her attention back to Cheryl. “If you’d really like to join the class, we’d be happy to have you.”
    Cheryl smiled, revealing a small dimple in each of her cheeks. “Yes, I would,” she said, taking a seat. “And I’ll be happy to pay whatever the cost.”

     
    Carmen couldn’t believe how kind Emma was to a complete stranger. But then, she’d been kind to her, too. In fact, when Paul had introduced Carmen to Emma, she’d been welcomed as though she was a good friend.
    Carmen’s conscience pricked her a bit.
If Emma knew the real reason I decided to take this class, she probably wouldn’t have been so welcoming
.
I need to make sure to keep that a secret—from Emma as well as Paul
.
    “Now I want to show all of you what your quilted wall hangings will look like when they’re done,” Emma said, holding up a small colorful quilt with various shades of blue. “We’ll begin today by choosing the colors we want and then cutting out the log cabin squares and the points for the star.”
    Carmen snuck a peek at Selma, just waiting for her to complain about something. What was with that woman, anyway? Did she always walk around wearing a scowl?
She probably doesn’t realize how much older it makes her look. She does have beautiful white hair, though
.
    Carmen couldn’t help wondering what Selma must have looked like years ago and what made her seem so unhappy. Her wrinkles seemed to be a part of the frown embedded on her face. She certainly had the remnants of a nice tan, and if you took away those deeply etched lines, Selma probably hadn’t been a bad-looking lady in her younger years.
    Regrettably, Carmen could relate in some ways with whatever was making Selma so touchy. She, herself, had things to overcome. And soon, if she wasn’t careful, she’d end up looking older than her twenty-four years.
    Carmen glanced at Anna as they started picking out colors. She was definitely the age for rumschpringe and seemed to have a chip on her shoulder. Could she be like one of those rebellious teenagers portrayed on the TV show Carmen had seen last week?
    Maybe I’ll get the chance to question the girl. If not today, then perhaps next Saturday. I’m confident that by the end of six weeks, I’ll have my story
.

     
    “Okay, man, I’m going inside now,” Terry said once he and Jan had finished loading the shingles.
    “You’re really going into Emma’s house?”
    “Yeah, that’s right.”
    “What excuse are you gonna use for going in there?” Jan asked.
    “I’ll ask for a glass of water, or say that I need to use the bathroom. I’m determined to find out if that