The Quilter's Apprentice by Jennifer Chiaverini

Author:Jennifer Chiaverini
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster

James avoided me for the rest of the fair that summer. I know, because I looked for him everywhere, but I saw neither hide nor hair of him the rest of the week. I supposed he must have been terribly embarrassed, and perhaps he thought I had been making fun of him by not telling him who I was. And perhaps he felt that he had insulted me by suggesting he could one day challenge Father’s business. I wasn’t insulted, however; I just knew he was wrong. The very idea—to surpass Bergstrom Thoroughbreds.

In autumn Father was invited to teach a course in the agricultural school at your alma mater, though it was called Pennsylvania State College then. Richard begged and pleaded to be allowed to accompany him. Oh, how Richard wanted to see the world, even at that age. Father refused, saying that he would not have time to care for a young boy and that Richard could not miss school. But he refused so reluctantly—he hated to be away from his son—that Richard must have thought there was still a chance.

He came running out to the garden, where Claudia and I were having a party with some of our friends. It was a picnic of sorts, to say a sad good-bye to the summer and welcome in the new school year. One fellow was especially fond of Claudia, though he was too shy to even look her in the eye, much less speak to her. I used to tease her about him mercilessly, of course. She was not the only one who interested the boys, either. I had two young men who adored me, too, although I was indifferent to them both and had told them so. They still insisted on courting me, though, which I found highly irritating—did they think I didn’t know my own mind? Honestly. Since they were determined to pine away rather than heed my words, well, I decided to let them. I used to enjoy watching them glower at each other when I would seem to prefer one more than the other, and would pretend not to notice when they fought for the next dance or the empty seat by my side.

One of the young men was telling a joke when Richard burst into the party. “Sylvia, Sylvia,” he cried, tugging at my hand.

“What is it, darling? Are you hurt?”

“No, no.” He glared, impatient. I had forgotten that he had made me promise not to call him “darling” in front of the older boys anymore. “I figured out how to get Father to take me with him.”

I pulled him onto the gazebo seat by my side. “I thought Father already told you no.”

“But we can change his mind. If you come, too, Sylvia, you can look after me. Then Father has to say I can go.”

“But what about school?”

“I won’t mind missing school.”

I laughed. “I realize that, but you have to go to school if you want to run Bergstrom Thoroughbreds someday. And I have to go to school, too, if I want to go to college.

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