The Half-Stitched Amish Quilting Club Read Online Free PDF Page B

grunted. “The guy’s obviously not with his wife. I wonder what’s up with that.”
     
    “Maybe she couldn’t come today. Maybe he cares about her so much that he’s willing to take the class in her place.”
     
    “You think so?”
     
    “I guess we’ll soon find out.” Pam opened the passenger door and stepped down, being careful not to let her beige-colored slacks brush the side of their dusty vehicle. It really needed a good washing.
     
    She’d just closed the door when a blue, midsize car pulled in. A few minutes later, a middle-aged African-American woman stepped out of the vehicle. “Are you here for the quilting class?” she asked, smiling at Pam.
     
    “Yes, I am,” Pam replied, admiring the pretty turquoise dress the lady wore. “I’m eager to learn how to quilt, and being taught by an Amish woman is a good guarantee that I’ll be taught well. From what I understand, most Amish women are expert quilters.”
     
    The woman nodded. “That’s what I’ve heard, too.”
     
    Pam glanced over at Stuart, thinking he might be talking to the Hispanic man, but no, he stood in front of their vehicle with his arms crossed, staring at the ground.
Maybe I made a mistake forcing him to come here, she thought. I probably should have come up with something else I wanted to do that he would enjoy, too. Well, it’s too late for that. We’re here now, so we may as well go in
.
     
    Pam went around to the front of the car and took hold of Stuart’s arm. “Are you ready to go inside?”
     
    “Ready as I’ll ever be,” he muttered.
     
    “Well, hold that thought,” she whispered, again hoping he wouldn’t embarrass her during the class.
     
    They started for the house, and as they stepped onto the porch, a small red car in dire need of a paint job pulled in. When a slender young woman dressed in a pair of black suede boots, black jeans, and a black sweatshirt with the hood pulled over her head climbed out of the car and headed their way, Pam couldn’t help but stare. The girl didn’t seem like the type who’d want to learn about quilting, but then neither did the Hispanic man. She guessed everyone who’d come must have their own reasons, and she hoped Stuart would now see that quilting wasn’t just for women.
     
    Pam was about to knock on the door when Stuart nudged her arm. “Look who’s joining us now.” He motioned toward a tall, burly-looking man with a short brown beard, riding in on a bicycle, of all things! He wore blue jeans; a tight white T-shirt; and a black leather vest. A black biker’s bandana was tied around his head, and his brown ponytail hung out from the back of it. The man had a mean-looking black panther tattooed on his left arm and the name
Bunny
on his right arm. He wore black leather boots—the kind motorcyclists wore—and looked like he belonged on the back of a Harley instead of on a beat-up blue and silver bike.
     
    When I signed us up for this quilting class
, Pam thought,
I certainly never expected there would be such an unusual group of people taking the class
.
     
    The young woman wearing the hooded sweatshirt barely looked at Pam as she stepped up to the door and knocked before Pam even had a chance to lift her hand. A few seconds later, a thirty-something Amish woman answered the door. She wore a very plain dark blue dress and a stiff white cap perched on the back of her dark brown hair, which had been parted in the middle and pulled into a bun at the back of her head. The woman stood staring at them with a strange expression. After several awkward moments, she said she was Emma Yoder’s daughter, Mary, and then she led the way into an unexpectedly large room, which she told them was where the quilt class would be held.
     
    Pam tried to take it all in with one swooping look. The room held a long table, several folding chairs, some wooden racks with colorful quilts draped over them, and three sewing machines. One of them was a treadle and appeared to be an