Free The Quilter's Legacy by Jennifer Chiaverini Page A

put her satchel into the carriage and climbed up beside it. “Take care of Wildrose.”
    “I will.”
    Miss Langley closed the door, and the carriage gave a lurch and moved off. Eleanor followed in her bare feet, waving and shouting good-bye. Miss Langley leaned out the window to blow her a kiss, but then she withdrew from sight, and Eleanor could do nothing but watch as the carriage took her through the front gates and away.
    “Come inside,” called Mother from the doorway. “Goodness, Eleanor, you're still in your nightgown.”
    “You should not have sent her away.”
    “On the contrary, I should have done so long ago. You're too old for a nanny, especially one with no regard for your safety.”
    Without another word, Eleanor went inside and upstairs to the nursery, where she flung herself on the sofa, aching with loneliness. Only anger kept her from bursting into tears. Every part of this room held a memory of Miss Langley, but they would make no more memories here.
    After a long while, Eleanor sat up, and only then did she realize she still clutched Miss Langley's handkerchief. She opened it and traced the embroidered monogram with her finger: An A and an C flanked a larger L. She knew the A stood for Amelia, but she did not know what the C was for.
    She was tucking the handkerchief into the pocket of her nightgown when her gaze fell upon the window seat. Less than a day before, she and Miss Langley had concealed her Crazy Quilt diamond beneath it. Eleanor had been correct to suspect they would not continue their quilting lessons, but she never could have imagined the reason why.
    She crossed the room and lifted the window seat. There, under a faded flannel blanket, she found her Crazy Quilt diamond—but something else lay beneath it. Wrapped in a bundle of muslin were the rest of the fabrics Eleanor had used the previous day, the two crazy patch diamonds Miss Langley had made, and her favorite sewing shears, the silverplated, heron-shaped scissors.
    Eleanor held them in her lap a long while before she closed the window seat, seated herself upon it, and cut a diamond foundation from the muslin. She appliquéd a green silk triangle to the center, then added another patch. She added a second patch, and a third, working toward the edges as Miss Langley had showed her.
    Then Harriet entered. “Your mother wants you to get dressed and come to breakfast.”
    “I'm not hungry.”
    Harriet waited as if hoping to receive some other reply, but Eleanor did not look up from her work. Eventually Harriet left.
    Within a few minutes, Abigail replaced her. “Mother and Father want you to come to breakfast,” she said. “So do I. Won't you please come down?”
    “I'm not hungry.”
    “But you didn't have any supper.”
    “I said I'm not hungry.”
    “All right. I'll tell them,” said Abigail. “I'm sorry about Miss Langley.”
    Eleanor snipped a dangling thread and said nothing.
    Soon after Abigail left, Mother herself appeared. “You're too old to hide in the nursery and sulk. Come down to breakfast this instant.” She watched Eleanor sew. “What are you doing?”
    “I'm making a Crazy Quilt.” Eleanor embroidered a seam of velvet and wool with a twining chain stitch. “I will eat breakfast when I'm hungry, and after that, I'm going outside to ride Wildrose.”
    “Absolutely not. It's not safe. You know nothing about riding.”
    “Abigail will show me.”
    “She will not. I will forbid her. I forbid you .”
    Eleanor smiled to herself and worked her needle through the fabric, embellishing the dark velvet and wool with a chain of white silk thread, each stitch another link.

Chapter Three

    T heir suitcases and supplies were stowed away in the motor home, Sylvia had the map spread out on her lap, and Andrew had just put the key in the ignition when Sarah ran out the back door waving at them. Agnes had just called and was on her way over with something she insisted she must show Sylvia before they