Free A Quilt for Christmas by Sandra Dallas Page B

that was all but invisible, and snip off her thread. She removed the inch left in her needle and tossed it onto the ground “for a bird’s nest,” she said. Then she cut a length of thread, put it through her needle, secured the end in the quilt, and began stitching again. “It was slavery that caused the South to secede, and the North went to war to keep them from doing it. But you’ve seen how some of the Union supporters here treat our free Negroes, like Andy Jones that works for Print Ritter. I think they would rather throw food to the pigs than give it to a starving colored man.”
    â€œI think some of the men’s gone off to the war to have a good time,” Missouri Ann said. She blushed when she saw the others had stopped stitching and were staring at her, as if they wondered whether that had been Hugh’s reason for joining up.
    â€œI suppose that’s so,” Eliza said, thinking that was exactly why Missouri Ann’s husband went for a soldier.
    â€œHugh went to save the Union,” Missouri Ann said quickly.
    â€œThen why didn’t the other Starks join?” Ettie asked.
    â€œI couldn’t rightly say,” Missouri Ann replied.
    â€œBecause they’re copperheads,” Davy interjected. The women had not seen him standing near them, and they paused.
    Eliza admonished him, saying he should keep such thoughts to himself unless asked. She shooed him away with her hand.
    â€œI heard her say it,” the boy insisted. He pointed his stick gun at Missouri Ann. “A copperhead’s almost as bad as a Secesh.”
    â€œMrs. Stark is our friend and guest, and you will not say another word. The idea!” Eliza glanced around the circle and shook her head. “Davy hates the Johnnies because they killed Will. That’s what causes him to say such things.”
    â€œBut it’s true,” Missouri Ann told the women. “Hugh was different, but the rest of the Starks, they don’t like Negroes any more than a yellow dog. Dad Stark said a black man that’s freed, well, you might as well shoot him, for all he’s worth.”
    Eliza drew her arms to her sides and didn’t look up. She wondered if Missouri Ann felt the same way as the Starks. They’d never talked about it.
    It was Mercy, her needle poised over the quilt, who asked Missouri Ann if she agreed.
    â€œNo, ma’am, I do not. Dad Stark said they’re dumb enough to drown in a pitcher of water, but I knowed free Negroes that was smarter than some with the name of Stark. When I growed up, my pa was a follower of John Brown. He said John Brown was a saint of the Lord.”
    â€œAmen,” said Ettie. “It looks like we’re all against slavery.”
    â€œWell, if we aren’t, why are we quilting for the Union?” Eliza asked.
    â€œI don’t care a peach pit for black folks,” Mercy said, her dark eyes flashing. “If it wasn’t for them, Nathaniel would be alive.” Mercy had not lived in Wabaunsee County as long as the others. She had moved there only four years earlier with her husband and two daughters, who were now eight and twelve. Eliza had met her in the post office and had been taken with her right off. Who wouldn’t have been? She was so vivacious that Eliza hadn’t realized until later that Mercy was plain-looking, of average height, with black hair parted in the middle and pulled tightly behind her ears into a knot. Her clothes had been unremarkable, severe dark browns, but they set off Mercy’s bright face and dancing eyes. When Mercy announced she loved to quilt, Eliza, without asking Anna and Ettie, had asked her to join their group.
    Now Eliza, shocked at her friend’s words, looked up from her stitching. “Surely you don’t blame the Negroes for the war.”
    â€œAnd why not? If the coloreds hadn’t come to America, they wouldn’t be slaves, and if there weren’t any