Free Her Restless Heart by Barbara Cameron

Katherine. "So what are you saying?"
    "I don't know. I just—well, it seems strange, that's all." She straightened the display table where Anna's adorable cupcake hats for babies were displayed. They were one of the most popular items in the shop.
    "Jacob's mother came in, too."
    Mary Katherine's hands stilled on the hats. "Really? When? I didn't see her."
    "Yesterday, when you went to lunch with Anna. I didn't think anything of it at the time, but now that you mention it, she asked about you."
    "Me? Why? What did she say?"
    Leah gathered up her receipts. "She asked how you were doing." She paused and looked thoughtful.
    "What?"
    "Well, I didn't think anything of it at the time."
    "What?" Mary Katherine put her hands on her hips and waited impatiently.
    Smiling, Leah walked around the counter. "Well, she didn't ask about Naomi or Anna."
    Mary Katherine stared at her grandmother as she walked to the back room. What was she supposed to think about that?
    A customer walked in, an Englisch one, and smiled at her. Mary Katherine returned her smile.
    "Can I help you with anything?"
    "I'd like to browse a little if you don't mind."
    "Of course. Let me know if I can be of any help," Mary Katherine told her.
    A glance through the shop window showed few shoppers out. No wonder. It had been drizzling since early morning. Her grandmother and her cousins were doing inventory, leaving Mary Katherine in charge.
    The woman walked around the shop, studying the quilts displayed on the walls, especially the collage quilt Mary Katherine had made.
    Mary Katherine walked over to her loom and studied her pattern.
    "Are you Mary Katherine?"
    She looked up at the customer. "Yes."
    "Jamie told me about you. Jamie Patterson. She said I should stop by your shop. I'm Allie Prentice, one of Jamie's college instructors."
    She studied Mary Katherine's work on the loom. "This is lovely. Quite a creative use of pattern and color. Where did you learn to do this?"
    "An aunt of mine taught me years ago."
    "Could I get you to come in and talk to my class about your weaving?"
    Shocked, Mary Katherine stared at her. "I—I wouldn't know what to say. I just . . . weave."
    "And quilt," the woman said, gesturing at the collage quilt. "I love the images, the unusual quality to it. I haven't seen many examples of collage quilts. I'd like you to talk about both to my Fabric Arts class."
    "Jamie let me see her textbook for that class," Mary Katherine said, excitement welling up in her. "It looks so interesting."
    The woman smiled. "Why don't you come in and speak, and then you can observe the class a few times if you like?"
    "Observe?"
    "Sit in, see what we do. You don't have to pay. Or take the quizzes," she added with a smile.
    Mary Katherine hesitated. "When is the class?"
    "Ten to eleven a.m. on Tuesdays and Thursdays." She pulled a business card from her purse and handed it to her. "Think about it and let me know what day is best for you. Oh, and I can send a driver to pick you up and bring you back."
    She looked at the card in her hand, then at the woman. "I'll think about it and let you know."
    "Great." The woman glanced at the clock on the wall. "Well, much as I'd like to browse for hours in here, I need to get back to campus. I have a ton of work to do."
    Her grandmother came out a little while later. "Still quiet out here?" She peered at Mary Katherine. "You look a little flushed. Are you feeling allrecht?"
    She still didn't know what to think of the visitor who'd walked out the door just a few minutes ago. "Wait until you hear who came in."
    "Not another Miller."
    Mary Katherine laughed. "No." She told her grandmother about the professor and how she wanted her to speak to the class.
    "I don't know why she thinks I have anything important to tell the students," Mary Katherine said.
    "Will you hide your light beneath a bushel?" Leah asked her quietly. "Child, I know that we teach—we live—working at not being filled with hochmut, with pride. But it's not