The Cherished Quilt Read online

  “Welcome. I’m Emily Fisher.” When he didn’t respond, her smile faded. She took in his appearance. His hair was light brown with flecks of gold reflecting in the sunlight pouring in through the windows behind him and skylights above him. He was handsome, really handsome. His eyes were a brilliant hue of blue-green, and he had a long, thin nose, chiseled cheekbones, a strong jaw, and a clean-shaven face. But his good looks seemed a stark contrast to his bleak, dull expression as he stared at her.

  “Well, I’ll get your onkel for you,” Emily offered, turning toward the work area. “Hank!”

  “Christopher!” Hank came into the showroom and crossed to where Christopher still stood by the front door. “Come in! This is Leroy’s youngest dochder, Emily.” He gestured toward her. “Emily, this is my nephew, Christopher Hochstetler. His mamm is mei schweschder Agnes.”

  “We met.” She smiled again in an attempt to lighten the mood.

  Christopher nodded again as he came nearer, but his cold expression didn’t change.

  Dat appeared behind Hank. “So this is Christopher. I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m so glad you came to work with us.”

  “Danki,” Christopher said softly.

  Before more could be said, the bell above the door rang again and two English men entered the store. Hank excused himself and started answering their questions about the saddles on display. The phone in the work area rang, and Dat hustled to answer it.

  Christopher was staring at the toes of his work boots. Emily longed to pull him into a conversation and make him feel comfortable.

  “So, Christopher.” She leaned forward on the counter. “How was your trip?”

  “Fine.”

  “Oh, well, I guess you’re pretty tired, huh?” Maybe a little empathy would get a friendly response. “It’s a long trip from Ohio, right?”

  Christopher shrugged, still looking at the floor.

  “When did you get here?”

  “Last night.” He suddenly looked up at her, his blue-green eyes locking with hers.

  She tried to think of something else to say, but she was dumbfounded by his frosty demeanor.

  “Christopher,” Dat called from the work area. “Come on back and I’ll start you off with some simple leatherwork. Today you’re going to learn how to make a leash.”

  Christopher left without giving Emily a second glance. She stared after him. Did this man treat everyone so coldly?

  LATER THAT MORNING EMILY ENTERED THE KITCHEN, WHERE her mother sat at the large table, staring down at her favorite cookbook. She glanced up and smiled. Emily had inherited her blonde hair and blue eyes from her mother, but she didn’t think anyone could be as beautiful as Mamm was.

  “What are you looking at?” Emily sank into the chair across from her.

  “I was just looking up a few recipes I want to try for our next Englisher dinner. I think we should change up the menu.” Mamm peered up at her. “Is something wrong?”

  Emily shrugged before resting her arms on the table and frowning. After her awkward conversation with Christopher, he spent the remainder of the morning in the work area with her father and Hank. As far as she could tell, he never glanced back at her, and he didn’t acknowledge her before she left the shop. Christopher had completely snubbed her attempts to be friendly.

  “Emily?” Mamm’s expression filled with concern. “Are you all right?”

  “Ya, I’m fine. Hank’s nephew started today at the harness shop.”

  “Oh. How is he?” Mamm tipped her head.

  Emily’s shoulders slumped as she scowled. “He’s nothing like Hank.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s not friendly at all.” Emily relayed the brief conversation she had with Christopher, and Mamm’s eyes widened with surprise.

  “I can’t figure out why I couldn’t seem to make him feel welcome.”

  “I’m certain it wasn’t anything you did,” Mamm insisted. “You always go out of your way to be nice to people. In fact, you always consider everyone else’s feelings before your own.”

  “I’ve never had anyone be so rude to me.” Emily absently drew circles on the blue tablecloth with her finger. “I tried to pull him into a conversation, but he only gave me terse responses. I just thought we should get to know each other since I work at the shop too.”

  “Just be yourself and let him warm up to you. Maybe he was nervous about working with Hank and your dat. Maybe he’s never worked in a shop before.”

  “Ya, maybe that was it. Dat said he was going to teach him something easy on his first day.”

  But her mother’s encouragement did little to settle her concern. She couldn’t accept the idea of someone not liking her. But she also couldn’t imagine feeling uncomfortable at her father’s shop. If that was Christopher’s problem, she would do everything in her power to help him feel like he belonged.

  EMILY WAS SETTING THE TABLE FOR THEIR ENGLISH GUESTS when her older sister Rachel rushed into the kitchen. At twenty-three, Rachel was tall like their older sister, Veronica, but she was the only one of the three who had inherited their father’s light brown hair and deep brown eyes. Other than being the youngest, Emily’s only distinction in the family was that, at five four, she was also the shortest.

  “How was your day?” Emily asked.

  “Gut, gut. How was yours?” Rachel glanced around the kitchen, her eyebrows knitting together. “We have a dinner tonight?”

  “Ya, did you forget?”

  Rachel blushed. “I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t have stayed after school to grade papers if I had remembered.”

  “It’s fine.” Mamm pulled baked chicken from the oven. “Just go get cleaned up and you can help us put the meal together. The group will be here in about thirty minutes.”

  Rachel disappeared up the spiral staircase.

  “Sometimes I think Rachel is so wrapped up in Mike that she forgets things,” Emily said as she finished setting the table. She was referring to Rachel’s boyfriend, Mike Lantz. Rachel had fallen in love with Mike last spring. “I really can’t blame her, though.”

  Mamm snickered. “From what I remember, that’s how young love is. It permeates your mind like a cheerful fog.”

  Emily sighed. When would she meet the right man and fall in love? She dreamed of having a home and family, but Rachel taught at the special school for children who needed extra help, and their parents needed Emily at home all day. She split her time between working in the harness shop and helping her mother with the household chores. She also made quilts to sell at the market and helped host dinners for Englishers.

  Rachel reappeared in a fresh green dress. “What can I do to help?”

  “Would you get out the glasses and fill a pitcher with water?” Mamm set freshly baked bread on a platter. The delicious aroma blended with the chicken and wafted over the kitchen.

  “Ya.” Rachel headed toward the cabinets. “So how were your days?”

  “Emily has a new coworker.” Mamm set the bread on the table. “Hank’s nephew arrived from Ohio. I think Dat told you Christopher is going to work with Hank and your dat for a while.”

  “Oh ya?” Rachel raised her eyebrows. “How old is he? Is he handsome?”

  Emily took the first two glasses from her and set them on the table. “I don’t know how old he is, and I don’t think he likes me.”

  “But is he handsome?” Rachel prodded with a grin.

  “Rach, don’t start, okay?”

  Emily wasn’t in the mood for her sister’s teasing. Lately Rachel had taken to trying to set Emily up with Mike’s friends from his church district, but it never seemed to work out. It wasn’t that Emily was picky or even that she had unrealistic expectations of what a relationship should be. Yes, she wanted to find someone she could talk to and who would listen to her and relate to her, but that wasn’t all.

  She wanted to feel a spark. She wanted true love, like Veronica had with her husband. Veronica had once told her Jason was her best friend, but s
he was also attracted to him. Emily wanted the same thing—a man who was her best friend but also warmed her heart.

  “Did I miss something?” Rachel turned toward Mamm.

  “Let’s just say Christopher wasn’t very friendly to Emily,” Mamm said.

  “What do you mean?” Rachel asked.

  As they finished preparing the meal, Emily told her about her brief conversation with Christopher.

  “I can’t believe he wasn’t friendly to you,” Rachel said, frowning. “Dat grew up with Hank, so we’re practically family.”

  Emily nodded, feeling more confused than ever.

  Rachel’s frown softened. “Well, I was awfully rude to Mike the first time I met him, and Mike forgave me.”

  “What are you saying?” Emily opened a nearby cabinet and pulled out a stack of cookbooks her mother sold for a friend at dinners.

  “I’m just saying maybe Christopher will realize you were just being nice and he’ll apologize.” Rachel shrugged. “Maybe he was having a bad day.”

  “Maybe.” Emily worried her lower lip as her recollection of the coldness in Christopher’s face sent a shiver through her. Had she misinterpreted what was going on with him? Had there been sadness or even anger in those cold eyes?

  “They’re here,” Mamm said.

  The hum of the van’s engine and crunch of the tires on the rock driveway drew Emily’s attention to the window above the sink. She pushed thoughts of Christopher away and prepared herself for the evening. She needed to concentrate on serving food and answering questions about their Amish culture.

  “CHRIS! CHRIS, HELP ME!” GABRIEL CRIED FROM SOMEWHERE IN the distance.

  “Where are you, Gabriel? Where are you?” Chris’s pulse pounded in his ears as he ran toward the back of the pasture at his father’s farm and searched for his younger brother. His body was shaking and his head was spinning with fear combined with adrenaline.

  Chris rounded a corner, and a strangled sob escaped from deep in his throat as he found Gabriel lying on the ground, covered in blood. Chris fell to his knees beside him and touched his arm.

  “Gabriel?” he croaked as tears snaked down his hot cheeks. “Please open your eyes. I’m so sorry.” His voice broke as sobs racked his body.

  Chris’s eyes flew open. He was drenched in sweat. He rolled onto his side and stared at the plain white bedroom wall.

  It was just a dream. Another nightmare.

  Gabriel was still dead.

  And it was still Chris’s fault.

  He rubbed his wet eyes. He’d been crying again. As usual, the dream was so real that he was transported back to his father’s pasture, reliving the horrible day that changed his life forever. But this time Gabriel begged him for help, and Chris was too late to save him.

  He shoved himself to a sitting position. He glanced around the unfamiliar, sparsely decorated bedroom, and for a moment he was disoriented. Then reality whacked him in the gut. He was at Onkel Hank’s house in Bird-in-Hand. Moving in with Onkel Hank was Chris’s last-ditch effort to somehow pull his life back together after Gabriel’s death nearly three months ago. He scrubbed his hands down his face and inhaled a jagged breath.

  Chris swung his legs over the side of the double bed and stood. He turned toward the battery-operated digital clock on the nightstand. The bright green numbers read 1:05. He’d managed to get two hours of sleep, which was a new record. Most nights the nightmares woke him every thirty minutes, like clockwork. He flipped on the lantern and padded down the stairs to the kitchen, careful not to wake his aunt and uncle, who were asleep in their bedroom on the first floor.

  After filling a glass with water, he stepped out onto the back porch and sat down on the swing. More tears threatened Chris’s eyes, and he took a deep, trembling breath. He didn’t want to cry. He’d cried too much already, and he had to find a way to move past his grief. With his hand shaking, he lifted the glass and took another sip of water. His gaze moved to the house next door, the Fisher family’s home.

  Chris had noticed the large, white clapboard house when the taxi steered into Onkel Hank’s driveway Tuesday evening after the endless bus ride from his parents’ farm in Sugarcreek, Ohio. The Fisher house had a large wraparound porch at the front and a smaller porch at the back. Onkel Hank spoke highly of Leroy Fisher and his family, explaining that Hank and Leroy had gone into business when they were in their twenties.

  Just like Chris’s brother, Paul, Onkel Hank was a man who’d known what he’d wanted at a young age. His path had been settled long ago. Chris admired his uncle, who was warm and forgiving, a stark opposite to Chris’s father.

  Chris longed to get his life in line too. But he didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life.

  Chris stared at Leroy’s house as an image of Emily Fisher’s face filled his mind’s eye. She was so pretty—beautiful, actually—with her soft facial features reminding him of a doll, golden hair peeking out from under her prayer covering, and sky-blue eyes. She seemed so sweet and kind.

  Chris cringed as he recalled their conversation earlier in the day—as if he could call it a conversation at all. Why had he been so rude to Emily when she tried to talk to him? It was obvious she was straining to pull him into a conversation, but Chris had quashed her kindness as if she were an annoying bug.

  Chris lifted his eyes to the sky, taking in the bright, twinkling stars as the cool night air seeped through his T-shirt and into his skin. He knew exactly why he’d been rude to Emily. There was no use trying to be friends with anyone. He wasn’t good at relationships, and he certainly did not want to be too friendly with a woman.

  Emily’s confused stare had weighed heavily on him as he worked beside her father, though. He should apologize to her, but what could he say? She most likely had already written him off as a horrible person. Regret settled on his shoulders and a headache brewed behind his temples.

  Chris stood and wandered back into the house, set the glass in the sink, and quietly made his way up to the spare room. He placed the lantern on the nightstand, climbed back into the bed, and stared at the ceiling.

  Mamm had once told him he should lay his burdens at God’s feet. If only he remembered how to pray. His ability to talk to God had died the day Gabriel was killed.

  Chris hoped coming to Bird-in-Hand would somehow lead him back to God and heal his soul.

  But as he lay awake for the next few hours, he wondered if that was even possible.

  CHAPTER 2

  EMILY SAT AT THE COUNTER IN THE HARNESS SHOP THURSDAY morning and chatted with a customer as she rang up two key chains, a saddlebag, a horse blanket, and two reins. The bell above the door chimed, and she had the sense that whoever had come in was looking at her.

  She glanced to her left and saw Christopher standing by the door with his intense gaze locked on her. His demeanor was different than the day before. This time she was sure his eyes seemed sad.

  “Here you go.” The customer handed her a stack of dollar bills.

  “Thank you.” Emily was suddenly self-conscious. She counted out the man’s change and handed it to him. Then she put his items into two large paper bags for him. “Have a nice day,” she said as he walked out the door.

  Emily sat back on the stool and smiled up at Christopher. “Gude mariye.”

  “Gude mariye,” he said softly.

  Shock nearly knocked Emily off the stool when Christopher answered her nicely. She was silent for a moment. He had dark circles under his eyes, which looked more green than blue today in the light of the skylights. The clock behind his head read nearly nine thirty. Had he just gotten out of bed?

  “Wie geht’s?” she asked, hoping to engage him in conversation.

  Christopher’s gaze moved to the work area, and he shrugged.

  Emily remembered all the reasons Christopher could have been so distant before, and an idea struck her.

  “Do you have plans for lunch?”

  Christopher met her gaze and looked hesitant. “What?”
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br />   “Would you like to have lunch with me?” Her words came out in a rush. “I have some leftover baked chicken from last night, and it’s always appeditlich reheated. I also have homemade rolls, so we could make chicken sandwiches.”

  Christopher was silent for a moment as if puzzling out something. “Danki, but I don’t think so.”

  “Oh, okay.” Her shoulders deflated as her happy mood dissolved. “You’ll have to stop by and meet the rest of my family sometime.”

  “I’ll try.” Christopher looked at her for a moment longer and then walked into the work area.

  Emily stared after him, feeling like a buffoon. Why had she invited him to lunch? And when he’d turned her down, why had she told him he had to meet her family? He obviously didn’t want to meet her family if he couldn’t accept an invitation to lunch.

  Did Christopher think she was trying to ask him out on a date, as though she were one of those pushy girls? She gritted her teeth and resisted the urge to cover her face with her hands. She had to stop trying too hard to be his friend. Even if he was going through a tough time, it wasn’t her place to try to fix his problems. As much as she hated giving up, she had to take a step back and let Christopher come to her. If he wanted to be her friend, then he’d be nicer to her and actually take the time to talk to her.

  Emily let the idea settle in her mind. Christopher’s rejection had stung, but she couldn’t dwell on it. She pulled out the ledger and flipped through it, but her thoughts were still stuck on the surprise in Christopher’s eyes when she’d asked him to join her for lunch.

  He looked as if he wanted to say yes. So why had he told her no?

  CHRIS TRIED TO CONCENTRATE ON LEROY’S INSTRUCTIONS as he sat next to him on a stool. He was explaining how to cut out a key chain in the shape of a cat.

  But Chris’s curious eyes kept moving toward the front of the store where Emily was staring down at a ledger on the counter as Hank spoke to a customer about a saddle. Had she even turned the page since she’d pulled it out of the bottom drawer fifteen minutes ago? Was she rereading the same page over and over again?