Free The Christmas Quilt: Quilts of Love Series by Vannetta Chapman Page B

for auction. She’d been making an Amish basket quilt and thought she was experienced enough to bypass the step.
    Walking up to her sewing room, she thought back on how she had certainly learned her lesson that year. The basket quilt had been a disaster. It had taken all of her mother’s skill to help her fix it, and in the end, she’d needed to repurchase part of the fabric. All because she hadn’t made a sample square.
    A costly mistake but one she’d never repeated. Every quilt she’d done since, she had taken the time to complete this step. Which was where she’d begin this afternoon. Surprisingly, she wasn’t the least bit sleepy—perhaps the napping phase of her pregnancy had passed. Glancing out the window, she could see their sheets snapping in the light wind. Samuel was walking toward the house, and more clouds were rolling in. Maybe they’d have snow again by evening, and this time it might be more than a mere dusting.
    Fine with her. She had finished the laundry and had the entire afternoon to work on Leah’s quilt. While she sewed, she’d pray for the babies and for Leah and Adam. She’d complete the sample square, then once that was done, the rest of the quilt should be easy work.
    Perhaps God would present an opportunity for her to speak with her brother. If she didn’t hear from Adam or Leah before Wednesday, she’d take them a meal when Samuel went to town. He wanted to see to some repairs around Rachel’s place and it would give her a chance to spend time with Leah.
    Provided they didn’t have any other medical emergencies.

8
    M onday evening—or was it in the wee hours of Tuesday morning?—Leah woke to a room so dark she couldn’t see the opposite wall. She lay there for a few minutes and tried to convince herself she wasn’t completely awake, but it was no use pretending. When her thoughts turned to how Rebekah had helped her with the wash, how nice it had been not to spend the day alone, she knew she was wide awake.
    She tried to turn over on her side, but the giant beach ball that had become her stomach wouldn’t allow her to. She lay in the darkness, determined to go back to sleep, but her mind refused to quiet. Instead, she listened to every sound—the branches of the eastern white pine tree against their room, the sound of the wind outside the window, even a night bird calling out to its mate.
    Was it still snowing?
    How much had accumulated?
    What time was it anyway?
    If she wiggled and worked at it, she might be able to roll over and see the clock on her nightstand. Adam had bought her the small ivory-colored, battery-operated clock for her birthday. He’d laughed, but he’d bought it. She’d pointed it out to him at the store—a week before she’d turned twenty-two.
    “And who needs a clock in the bedroom?” he’d asked. “We’ve never had one before.”
    “I know, but it would be nice to know how long the babies have slept or if I should check on them.”
    “The babies will be waking you when it’s time to feed them again. You won’t need a clock for that.”
    But he’d gone back to the store while she was visiting at the cafe with Rebekah, and later he’d wrapped up the very one she’d shown him. He’d even put a bow on the package and set it on the kitchen table so that it was the first thing she’d seen the morning of her birthday. When she thought of that morning, it seemed like she was remembering something in one of the books Annie liked to read or something that happened to someone else.
    Too bad she couldn’t crane her neck around and see the clock. Maybe she could sit up without waking Adam. She’d never get back to sleep now anyway. The pressure in her back felt like the time she’d scrubbed all the floors in a single day. It almost felt as if someone had their hands on her back and was pushing.
    Leah pushed the covers off her stomach, careful not to disturb Adam, which was when she realized he wasn’t even in bed. Was it not as late as she