The Healing Quilt by Wanda E. Brunstetter

he gazed into the deep blue sky, then headed toward the orange tree.
    Lamar remembered how he and Emma had enjoyed their juicy oranges for a snack yesterday. There was nothing like eating fresh fruit picked right off the tree. The oranges were so sweet, and he was happy they could share some with their quilting students.
    Continuing to whistle, Lamar started putting oranges, still wet from the morning’s dew, into his basket.
It doesn’t get any better than this
, he thought, lifting his face to the sun.
    Suddenly, he realized that the birds were silent. That seemed a bit odd. Usually, the yard was full of birds chirping out a chorus of welcome to Lamar as soon as he stepped into the yard.
    “Stay where you are, and don’t move a muscle!” a male voice said sternly.
    Lamar froze in his tracks, watching a drop of dew fall from one of the oranges, as if in slow motion, and then splatter on top of his shoe.
    Another male voice said firmly, “Don’t turn around; just stay where you are.”
    Lamar’s heartbeat picked up speed. All he could think about was his dear wife, Emma.
Am I about to be robbed? What should I do? I don’t want to do or say anything to anger these men. The back door’s not even locked. What if they barge inside and hurt Emma?
    As if to send his wife a silent message that only she could hear, Lamar whispered, “Please, Emma, stay in the house and lock the door.”

C HAPTER 8
    E mma hummed softly as she removed a coffee cake from the oven. She planned to serve it to her students during the quilting class. Last week, she’d served cookies, and everyone seemed to enjoy them, so she hoped the cake would be just as well received.
    Squinting over the top of her metal-framed glasses as she placed the cake on a cooling rack, Emma wondered what was taking Lamar so long to pick the basket of oranges. He’d been out there at least half an hour already. Maybe she should check on him. First, though, she would get out the plates and forks and put them on the counter for when dessert would be served. Once Lamar brought the oranges in, she would peel a few to serve with the cake.
    Emma took a platter from the cupboard and placed it on the table. Then, remembering that she had some grapes in the refrigerator, she got them out as well. She stood there a moment, tapping her finger against her lips, while looking around the kitchen. There really wasn’t much else to do, so she decided to peek out the window to check on Lamar, knowing he should have that basket pretty much filled with oranges by now. She was almost to the slightly open window, when she heard someone outside speaking rather loudly.
    “I’ll walk to him slowly from behind,” a stranger’s voice hollered.
    “Okay. I’ll approach him from the front,” a second man said.
    What’s going on out there?
Emma wondered. When she reached the window, she gasped. Emma could not believe the scene unfolding right there in their own backyard.

    “Okay, I got him!” the man yelled. “Quick, bring me the electrical tape.”
    Lamar had been standing there, still as a statue and struggling not to turn around to get a good look at the person who’d told him to remain where he was, while waiting for “who knew what” to happen. Were these men going to tie him up, tape his mouth shut, and then go into the house and rob them?
But wait a minute
, he thought.
That guy just said, “I got him,” yet I’m still standing here untouched
.
    Lamar couldn’t take it any longer. It seemed like forever that he’d been standing in the same position, unmoving like the men had told him. He was getting a cramp in his leg, and just as he was about to turn around, someone tapped his shoulder and said, “Okay, sir, it’s safe now.”
    Safe?
Lamar whirled around, and was about to demand that the young man wearing a white T-shirt and blue jeans tell him what was going on. Instead, he froze, staring in disbelief at the sight in front of him.
    “Sorry if I scared you, sir, but