Free The Choice by Suzanne Woods Fisher Page B

“Surgery to fix a valve.”
    “I’ll ask around and see if someone knows of a heart doctor to recommend,” Carrie said.
    “Doctor can’t fix it,” Yonnie said sadly. “His heart is just broken to pieces.”
    Slowly, like a weathervane, Daniel turned and stared at her. All the world’s sorrow, all the world’s pain, filled those troubled blue eyes.
    “Oh Daniel, I didn’t mean . . .” Yonnie’s hands flew up to her mouth, as if trying to stop the flow of words.
    He dropped his head, then lifted it. When he turned to Carrie, his blue eyes went still again. She’d never seen a person’s face change so fast.
    “Tell Eli I’ll wait for him in the workshop,” he told her, plucking his broadbrim off the wall peg before heading outside.
    Carrie wondered what had just been said between Yonnie and Daniel. Or not said, as seemed to be Daniel’s way. She closed the kitchen door, watching him. She couldn’t crack that man open with a sledgehammer.
    Suddenly, Yonnie’s fork clattered on the floor as she clapped her hands together and started whispering, “Gottes wille. Gottes wille.”
    Not a moment later, a loud tumbling sound came from overhead. It was followed by an eerie silence.
    Carrie ran to the kitchen door and called out to Daniel. Nearly at the barn, he spun around and bolted to the house, almost as if he had been expecting Carrie’s call. He burst into the kitchen and flew up the stairs, two at a time, and threw open the door to his father’s room. By the time Carrie reached them, she found Daniel cradling his father in his arms, a stricken look on his face as he called out, “Dad! Dad!” Eli’s mouth moved silently, like a fish out of water. His hands were gripping his shirt, in great pain. Then he went still.
    Daniel looked up at Carrie with a horrified look. “Er is nimmi am scharfe.” He’s gone.

    Carrie was grateful Andy wasn’t home when Eli passed. She thought she would meet him at school to prepare him for the sight of Eli’s body, laid out in the front room.
    As she took her bonnet off of the peg, Daniel stopped her. “I’ll go. Need the fresh air.”
    Carrie’s heart felt heavy as she saw Daniel walk down the driveway, hands jammed in his pockets, head dropped low. He seemed so alone. The deeper the feelings, she was discovering about him, the more he withdrew into himself. She didn’t know how to help him.
    No sooner had Daniel disappeared down the street but Veronica McCall arrived, banging on the front door as if Carrie were deaf as a fencepost. When Carrie opened the door, Veronica squeezed past her to enter the house. When Veronica’s eyes rested on Yonnie’s quilts, stacked up in the corner of the front room, she gasped. She rushed over to the quilts, pulling them out to admire them.
    “These are masterpieces! They’re stunning! They should be hanging in a museum!” She yanked them open as if they were sheets for a bed. “Did you make these, Carrie?”
    “No. Daniel’s grandmother made them. She’s upstairs, resting—” “Well, you just hop upstairs and wake her up! I have a proposition to make her.”
    “This isn’t a good time for a visit—”
    “Carrie, I want these quilts for the inn when it reopens! Name your price!”
    Carrie sighed. “They’re not for sale. Yonnie makes the quilts for her family to use. There are other quilters in Stoney Ridge who want to sell quilts.”
    “I know. I’ve been looking. But there are none like these. I’ve never seen any like these.” Veronica McCall planted her hands on her hips and tilted her head at Carrie. “For an Amish woman, you drive a hard bargain.”
    “But I’m not trying to bargain.”
    “ Everyone has a price, Carrie. Everyone can be bought. Even you.”
    Carrie was losing patience. “It’s not our way,” she said firmly, hoping to end the discussion.
    Suddenly, Veronica McCall’s eyes grew as large as dinner plates. She had just noticed Eli’s still body lying on the table behind