The Quilt Room Secret by Lisa Jones Baker

Author:Lisa Jones Baker [Jones Baker, Lisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781636097763
Publisher: Barbour Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2024-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Jacob didn’t have an answer. Later that day, inside Margaret’s barn, he propped the large, heavy doors open in order to allow what was left of the day’s sunlight to brighten the otherwise dark structure.

His mind was on the afternoon. And Trini. The gerbera daisies. The tic-tac-toe game. The lunch. The enlightening conversation. But thanks to the appearance of her family, his proposal had been interrupted and he still didn’t have a response.

Inside the large barn, he ascended the rough wooden steps that led up to the hayloft. Survivor let out a loud whinny. A chicken scurried across the floor to the open door.

In the hayloft, he pushed himself up and quickly brushed his hands together to rid them of straw dust. A rat slipped into a hole in the wall. From the small window, he glimpsed Trini’s backyard.

He gripped the twine on a bale of straw and lifted it. With one swift motion, he let it fall to the cement floor.

The horse responded to the sudden thump with another loud whinny before clomping its hooves. Looking down at Survivor’s stall, Jacob assured the standardbred that what he was doing was for the animal’s benefit. “I don’t think you’d be happy without straw, would you?”

The noble animal neighed and glanced up at Jacob, who laughed.

“I suppose you want oats too.” After catching a breath, Jacob continued the one-sided conversation. “I bought you fresh oats. But first things first. And that means cleaning your stall so that you have the first-rate living arrangements you deserve.”

Jacob gripped a second bale of straw by its twine. After releasing his grip, he listened to the plop as the horse’s bedding met the concrete. Again, Jacob brushed straw dust from his hands. For a few seconds, he stood and looked down.

He couldn’t stop a grin while taking in the warm ambience and the special things that made his Survivor’s home different from every other Amish barn he’d set eyes on.

On the far wall, opposite Survivor’s stall, hung a large wreath that Margaret had made from scratch with other churchwomen. She’d used twigs and evergreen branches from her own backyard. A special warmth filled Jacob’s chest as he imagined her creating the piece for her rescued horse to look at. Years ago, Survivor had overcome a serious virus. Since that miraculous day, Margaret had named him appropriately. A chuckle escaped Jacob’s throat as he shook his head. He couldn’t help but wonder if Survivor actually enjoyed her efforts. Whether or not he did wasn’t really what mattered. The point was that his dear aunt had made the wreath with love and good intentions.

Something came to him. It was what she used to tell him. “When you do something with love and good intentions, it’s never in vain. Because when your heart gives in a spirit of love, you reap more benefits than the recipient. Doing for others is a way of nurturing your own heart and soul.”

Jacob wiped moisture from his eyes as wind chimes hanging from the ceiling moved with the gentle breeze that blew through the wide entrance.

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