The Half-Stitched Amish Quilting Club - 02 - The Tattered Quilt by Wanda E. Brunstetter

Author:Wanda E. Brunstetter [Brunstetter, Wanda E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General, Romance, Fiction, Christian
ISBN: 9781616260866
Goodreads: 17214089
Publisher: Barbour Books
Published: 2013-08-06T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 20

Shipshewana

Selma pulled the covers aside and shivered as she crawled out of bed. It seemed so cold in her bedroom this morning. Could the temperature have dipped lower than usual during the night? Maybe her furnace had quit working.

Wherever Selma could, she stepped on the throw rugs scattered across her bedroom floor, knowing the hardwood would probably be cold. It was the only room in her house, besides the kitchen and bathroom, that didn’t have carpeting.

Selma padded across the room in her bare feet and bent down to put her hand in front of the floor vent. Now that’s odd. Even though the slats were open, no heat was rising through the vent. She slipped into her robe and slippers, then stepped into the hall. It seemed warm enough there, and in the living room as well. She checked both living-room vents and discovered warm air drifting up. It made no sense that the vent in the bedroom wasn’t directing heat into the room.

Selma checked a couple more vents—one in the spare bedroom, and one in the dining room. Warm air wafted up from both of them. She felt relief knowing her furnace hadn’t given out.

“Guess I’ll have to ask someone to crawl under the house and check the heat duct going up to my bedroom,” she said aloud. “Maybe it got clogged somehow.”

Selma headed for the kitchen to put the teakettle on the stove, and when she stepped into the room, she halted, shocked at the sight before her. That mangy gray cat was sitting in her sink, licking at the slow drip coming from the faucet.

“How in the world did you get in my house, and what are you doing in the sink?” Could she have left the door open last night during the short time she’d gone out to be sure her car was locked? But if the cat had gotten in then, why hadn’t she seen it before she’d gone to bed? Maybe the sneaky feline had hidden out somewhere in the house. Whatever the case, Scruffy had to go out!

Meow! The cat looked at Selma as if to say, “Please let me stay in the house.”

“I’ll give you a bowl of water, but you have to go outside.” Selma picked up the cat, unconsciously petting his head.

Prrr…Prrr… The cat burrowed his nose in Selma’s robe and began to knead with his paws.

“Now, none of that, Scruffy,” Selma said with a click of her tongue. “You’re not going to soft-soap me this morning.” She held the cat away from her, while scrutinizing him. If you could talk, you’d probably tell me plenty, Selma thought, wondering where this cat must have come from.

She opened the back door, set the cat on the porch, and quickly shut the door. When she returned to the kitchen, she took out a plastic bowl and filled it with lukewarm water. Then she took the bowl outside and placed it on the porch. Seeing that Scruffy was still there, Selma smiled, despite her agitation.

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