The Wedding Quilt by Jennifer Chiaverini Page B

that the rest would celebrate the joyful occasion when they returned home to Elm Creek Manor, Sarah had faith that she, Matt, Caroline, and James would be all right. Everything would be all right.
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    Sarah saw a shadow through the summer curtain an instant before a horn honked. Heart soaring, she waved the curtain out of the way and saw, at last, Caroline’s car rounding the bend by the old red barn, crossing the bridge over Elm Creek, circling the two towering elm trees that even then, in the warmth of late summer, sent yellow leaves dancing on the breeze, falling lightly to the pavement below.
    As the car pulled to a stop, Sarah saw Matt striding across the bridge, coming in from the orchard to welcome his eldest child and her husband-to-be. She heard the back door squeak open and crash shut, and she heard James shout out a cheerful greeting. Friends and loved ones were there to bless Caroline’s homecoming just as they—and others, never far from Sarah’s thoughts—had been present on that winter day in early February twenty-five years before when Sarah and Matt had brought the twins home from the hospital. Hopeful, excited, apprehensive, overwhelmed—the new parents had brought their son and daughter home and devoted themselves to their care and nurturing. Sarah had wanted her children to be surrounded by love every day of their lives. For all too brief a time she was their world and she could grant them that great gift, but as soon as they began walking, they began moving away from her. Although James always circled back, smiling happily, arms open wide for her embrace, Caroline seemed ever set upon venturing beyond the gray stone walls of Elm Creek Manor, beyond the towering elms, over the creek and away, with just a glance over her shoulder to be sure Sarah was watching. And Sarah, who marveled at her confident, fearless daughter, had smiled and waved and fought the urge to beg her to stay—and tried, unsuccessfully, to hide her broken heart when she did not.
    Sarah let the curtain fall and hurried to join her husband and son in welcoming their bright and happy girl to the childhood home she loved but found far too easy to leave.
    For now, Caroline was home again, and Sarah could forget the pain of her absence, the many partings, the times when school, friends, college, work, or love had beckoned her away and she had gladly gone. For a few days more they could be a foursome again, the McClure family of Elm Creek Manor—father, mother, twins. Soon everything would change: Caroline would marry, and she would begin a new family with the man she loved.
    Sarah knew her daughter’s wedding day would be bittersweet, an occasion of joy and love that marked the end of Caroline’s childhood even as it ushered in a future rich with hope and promise. But for now, Sarah would put away thoughts of the parting to come. She would enjoy the time they had together and not mourn its brevity even as it passed.
    Her darling Caroline had come home.

Chapter Two
    â€œC aroline,” Sarah called out as she hurried out the back door and down the stairs. She glimpsed her daughter’s golden curls at the center of a laughing, welcoming crowd of family, friends, and a few of the teenagers who worked in the orchard after school. Sarah had to smile; the young people had never met the bride and groom, but they didn’t want to miss the excitement and were glad for an excuse to take a break from the work of the harvest. Leo stood a bit apart as he unloaded suitcases from the trunk, watching the scene with proud amusement, no doubt accustomed to seeing his charming bride-to-be at the center of a circle of admirers. Sarah decided to welcome him first and wait her turn to greet her daughter. “Leo,” she said, embracing him and rising up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “It’s good to see you. How was the drive?”
    â€œNot bad,” he said, returning her hug cheerfully. His