Free The Rebel by Marta Perry Page A

persisted in curling no matter how severely they pulled it back. They had identical hazel eyes, but where Lovina’s chin was softly rounded, Anna’s came to a point like a heart. And they both regarded Elizabeth as their baby sister, to be chided and encouraged and helped along the way.
    There had been a point in her life when Elizabeth had resented their big-sister bossiness, but now she felt nothing but gratitude. She could never have gone through the past year without them.
    Cousin Jessie, heavy with the last months of pregnancy, blew Elizabeth a kiss. “I’d try to hug you, but something keeps getting in the way.” She patted her belly, face curving in a sweet smile, her gaze seeming to go inward. The forthcoming baby would never be mentioned in mixed company, but among women, it was another story. How could they help it?
    Elizabeth’s smile faltered. She remembered the feeling Jessie had now—that time when the life inside a woman occupied so much of her attention that she hardly had any to spare for the world outside her own body.
    â€œWell, let’s get to work,” Lovina announced, starting toward the quilting frame. Maybe she’d noticed Elizabeth’s reaction, but if so, she would be tactful. Lovina was always so quick to think of others’ feelings.
    There was a shuffle of pulling up chairs around the frame. It was an adjustable frame, shortened to fit the crib quilt. The five of them were plenty around the small quilt. Any more people, and they’d have been getting in one another’s way.
    Everyone exclaimed at how fine the quilt top had turnedout. It was a traditional log cabin design, but done in pale shades of pink and yellow and green instead of the deep, saturated colors common to Amish quilts. Lovina had done most of the piecing, with some help from Anna. Now the layers of top, batting, and back were put together like a sandwich and stretched out on the frame, ready for the quilting stitches.
    Each woman’s movement echoed the others’ as they threaded needles, slipped thimbles into place, and readied themselves for the first stitch, right hands on top, left hands underneath. Mamm smiled at Jessie as if in silent acknowledgement of her babe. Then she took the first stitch and the others joined in, each one working on the space directly in front of her.
    Elizabeth swallowed the lump in her throat and focused on the hands, dipping and swooping like so many birds over the surface of the quilt, making tiny, even stitches. No one would admit to pride in her work of course, but on a project like this, a person certain-sure didn’t want her stitches to be larger or more uneven than her neighbor’s.
    The talk began to flow again—about babies, naturally. Anna began it, innocently enough, with the mention that her little Jonah was teething. From teething remedies to feeding problems to sleeping issues—everyone had something to contribute. Everyone but Elizabeth.
    I will not spoil this time for Jessie.
But despite her intentions, the lump in her throat was getting to unmanageable size. With a muttered excuse about getting a drink of water, she fled to the kitchen.
    She was gripping the sink with both hands, forcing the tears back, when Mamm joined her a moment later. She heard her step and then felt Mamm’s work-worn hand patting her back,just as Mamm had done when she’d been a tiny girl frightened by a bad dream.
    â€œI’m sorry,” Mamm said. “You didn’t have to come.”
    â€œI thought I was ready. I want to be ready.” She brushed away a tear. “Surely I’ll start another baby soon, ain’t so?”
    â€œI pray it every day,” Mamm said gently. “But it is in God’s hands. When the time is right, it will happen.”
    Elizabeth nodded. Sometimes it was hard to accept what happened as God’s will, but there was no other choice. She filled a glass with water, drained it, and