The Lost Quilter Read Online Free PDF

surroundings. Dim sunlight filtered in through the open stable door, and the sweet, pungent smell of manure lingered in the air. From somewhere unseen came shouts of celebration and the popping of fireworks; a fly buzzed, and the horse’s ear twitched.
    With the stall door firmly latched, no one passing through the stable would see her or suspect she was there. The stable master knew, of course, because he had seen the men bring her in and had charged Peter extra for her. But the stall door hid her fromview, and until Peter and Isaac returned, she could work on the ropes unobserved.
    Her mouth was dry; her stomach rumbled. She longed for a dipperful of cold water. She glanced around for a stone, a tool, anything, and spied a bent nail protruding from the wall a few feet away. Inching toward it, she flinched as Isaac’s horse stomped a hoof and whickered nervously. “You just settle down now,” she said in what she hoped was a soothing tone. She pushed herself up onto her knees and strained to reach the nail. Back and forth she scraped the ropes against the nail, over and over again, until her arms ached and her back was drenched with sweat, until at last some of the fibers broke and the knots loosened.
    Furiously, she sawed away on the ropes until they fell away. Heart pounding, ears straining for the sound of approaching footsteps, she tore into the ropes binding her feet. How long had the men been away? One hour? Two? They could return at any moment. Should she steal Isaac’s horse? She would make better time on horseback, but she was not a good rider and the theft would draw the stablehands’ attention. Better to slip away quietly and stay out of sight.
    When her shaking hands failed to loosen the knots, she strained against the ropes, wrenching them up her calves and exposing the buttons on her remaining shoe. Quickly she undid the fastenings and yanked off the shoe—and the ropes went slack around her ankles. She kicked herself free, took a steadying breath, and rose shakily to her feet. Her head spun; she clung to the wall until her vision cleared. Isaac’s horse whinnied and tossed its head. Joanna crept around him and cautiously peered over the stall door. A white man in work clothes passed outside the entrance to the stable, but he did not glance her way. Hereyes fixed on the sun-drenched stableyard, Joanna reached over the stall door and lifted the latch.
    The door swung open with a creak.
    She slipped out of the stall, closed the door behind her, and silently stole toward the open doorway. She heard men approaching before they appeared; she ducked behind the door until the men passed and their voices faded.
    She longed for the cover of night.
    She took a deep breath, murmured a desperate prayer, and cautiously peered around the door. Three men stood in the stableyard, resting casually against the fence and watching holiday revelers pass. No one looked her way. She took one step into the yard, and then two, silent, careful steps along the side of the stable, her gaze locked on the workers. When she reached the corner, she peered around it but saw no one. Everyone must be in the town, distracted by fireworks and speeches. Ahead of her stretched a broad cornfield cut by a road, the pale green shoots knee-high; beyond it a hill sloped toward a thick cluster of trees.
    She took one last look around and broke into a run.
    She raced across the cornfield, stumbling in the furrows, bare feet sinking into the soil, ears straining for the shouts of alarm that would surely come at any moment. Her breath came in raw gasps, tearing from her lungs. The sun shone fiercely, turning the road into a bright glaring line, impossibly far away.
    She heard the wagon before it emerged from the trees. She flung herself to the ground, knowing the green shoots would hardly conceal her. Exposed, she held perfectly still, digging her hands into the moist earth as if to fix herself in place. The sounds of jingling harness and clomping