The Quilter's Daughter by Wanda E. Brunstetter

Author:Wanda E. Brunstetter [Brunstetter, Wanda E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781597898393
Publisher: Barbour Publishing, Inc
Published: 2007-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Abby, Abby. Wake up!”

“Is she okay?

“She hit her head.”

“It’s bleeding.”

“Better get a clean towel.”

“Maybe we should call 9-1-1. She might have a concussion.”

“Let’s wait a few minutes and see if she comes around.”

Somewhere in the distance, Abby heard muffled voices. Where was she? Why did it seem so dark? She tried to open her eyes, but her head hurt too much. She tried to think, tried to focus. Had she fallen into a deep, dark pit, or was this another one of her horrible nightmares?

Something cold touched her forehead, and a stinging sensation followed. Abby flinched.

“Abby, please say something.”

She recognized Matthew’s voice and struggled to open her eyes.

“She’s coming around.”

Someone’s cool hand touched the side of her face. She blinked and tried to sit up, but a heavy weight seemed to be pressing her down.

“Wh–what happened?” she murmured, as the faces of Naomi, Caleb, and Matthew came into view.

“You were talking on the phone one minute, and then you fainted.” Naomi held a small wet towel against Abby’s forehead.

Matthew clasped her hand. “You must have hit your head on the edge of the counter when you went down.”

Abby’s mind whirled like tree branches swishing in the wind as she forced herself to remember the conversation she’d had with Lester’s mamm.

“The phone. Where’s Deborah? I—I need to speak with her.” Tears blurred Abby’s vision, and she attempted once more to sit up.

Caleb knelt beside her, placing a gentle hand against her shoulder. “When you passed out, the phone went dead. Was it Lester’s mamm you were speaking to?”

Abby nodded, and the room tipped precariously. She swallowed the bitter acid taste in her mouth. No, no, it can’t be. I had to be dreaming. That’s all it was—that frightening nightmare I’ve had about fire and smoke and a kitten being trapped with me.

Abby trembled and squeezed Matthew’s hand. “It—it wasn’t a kitten that was trapped; it was Lester.”

“What are you talking about?” Naomi gave Abby’s arm a gentle shake. “Please, tell us what Deborah said.”

Abby turned her head away. “Fire. The quilt shop.”

“Did your shop in Berlin catch on fire? Is that what Deborah told you?” Caleb asked. Obvious concern creased his brow as he leaned closer to Abby.

She nodded and drew in a quivering breath as her stomach churned like a boiling pot on the stove.

“What happened? Was anyone hurt?” Naomi questioned.

Abby rolled her head from side to side, while the realization of what Deborah had said became clearer. She gazed at the gas lamp that hung overhead and wished she were dreaming. “He’s gone.”

Matthew leaned closer. “Who’s gone?”

“My Lester. He’s dead.” Abby choked on a sob and fell into Matthew’s arms.

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