The Christmas Quilt Read Online Free PDF

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    Staying at the inn had become a ritual for the two women following the quilt auctions. It was a time Vera truly enjoyed when the work of cooking, cleaning, sewing and running the farm was put on hold for a few days so she could relax and visit her many friends in town.
    Rebecca would rather be back in her aunt’s small house. The openness of the inn disoriented her, but she never said as much. Rebecca loved her aunt dearly. Vera deserved her little holiday each year. If Rebecca had insisted on staying home alone, her aunt would have cancelled her plans and come home, too.
    Emma said, “Rebecca, I couldn’t believe it when I heard how much your quilt went for.”
    “God was good to us,” Vera said quickly.
    Rebecca shook her head. “It was not worth that much money. The Englisch fellow who bought it did so out of pity. He saw a story about me on his television. That’s the only reason he came.”
    Vera patted Rebecca’s arm. “It matters not what his motivation was. His being there was God’s doing.”
    “How much more money will you need for your surgery?” Emma asked.
    “Another twenty thousand dollars,” Vera answered.
    “So much?” Emma’s voice echoed the doubt in Rebecca’s heart. It was unlikely they could raise enough money in time.
    She said, “Doctor White has told us the surgeon who isperfecting this operation is moving to Sweden to open a special clinic there after Christmas. If we can’t raise the rest of the money before then it will be too late.”
    Emma laid her hand on Rebecca’s shoulder. “Do not give up hope. We know not what God has planned for our lives.”
    Rebecca swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. “I must accept His will in this.”
    “Are you hungry?” Emma asked. “We’ve started serving supper in the café.”
    Vera said, “I could eat a horse.”
    “ Goot. My mother has been waiting impatiently for you. I’ll tell her you’re here and we can catch up on all the news. Did you hear my Aenti Wilma over in Sugarcreek broke her hip last week?”
    Rebecca said, “You two go ahead. I think I would rather lie down for a while before I eat.”
    “Is your headache worse?” Vera asked.
    Rebecca appreciated her aunt’s concern. “ Nee. I’m sure a few minutes of peace and quiet are all I need.”
    “Let me show you to your room,” Emma offered.
    “I can find my way,” Rebecca insisted. She didn’t want to be treated like an invalid.
    “Very well. I’ve put you in number seven, the same as last year.” Emma pressed an old-fashioned key into Rebecca’s hand.
    “ Danki. Enjoy your visit.”
    She opened the white folding cane she carried and headed toward the ticking clock she knew sat beside the staircase. The clock began to strike the hour. It was five o’clock.
    When she located the first riser, she went up the steps slowly, holding tight to the banister. There were fifteen steps if she remembered correctly. When her searching toe found the top of the landing, she smiled. Fifteen it was.
    She walked down the hallway, letting her cane sweep fromside to side. The rooms were numbered with evens on the left and odds on the right. It took only a few moments to locate her door.
    She fumbled with the key for a second and lost her grip on it. It fell, struck her toe and bounced away. The hallway was carpeted. She couldn’t tell from the sound where the key landed.
    Annoyed, Rebecca dropped to her knees and began searching with her hands, letting her fingers glide over the thick pile. The carpeting was a concession to the English guests that stayed at the inn. Amish homes held no such fanciness. A plain plank floor or simple linoleum was all anyone needed.
    The sound of a door opening across the hall sent a rush of embarrassed heat to her cheeks. A second later the door closed.
    She knew who it was. She recognized the spicy scent of his aftershave. Her heartbeat skittered and took off like a nervous colt at a wild gallop.
    The silence stretched on