Free The Healing Quilt by Wanda E. Brunstetter Page B

rides a bike would be interested in quilts. Maybe it’s some poor guy whose wife talked him into coming here like me. Well, here goes nothing
.
    Mike tromped up the porch steps and knocked on the door. A few minutes later, an Amish man with a head full of thick, gray hair and a matching beard greeted him. “May I help you?”
    “Uh, yeah, I’m here for the quilt class.”
    The man’s bushy eyebrows furrowed. “Excuse me?”
    “I’m here for the quilt class. This is the right place, isn’t it?” Mike questioned.
    “Well, yes, we are holding a quilt class here today, but it’s the second class, and we weren’t expecting any new students.”
    “I don’t think you understand.” Mike tapped his foot impatiently. “I’m here to take my wife’s place in the class.”
    “Who is your wife?”
    “Phyllis Barstow. I’m her husband, Mike.”
    “I’m Lamar Miller.” He extended his hand. “My wife, Emma, and I met Phyllis last week when she came for the first lesson.”
    “Well, she won’t be back,” Mike said. “Her sister broke her leg, and Phyllis went to Fargo, North Dakota, to take care of her. She asked me to come here in her place and learn how to quilt.”
And I stupidly said yes
, he silently added.
    “Oh, I see.” Lamar opened the door wider. “Come inside, and I’ll introduce you to my wife and the others in our class.”
    As Mike stepped into the house, he caught sight of a small gecko skirting along the baseboard. He didn’t pay it much mind, knowing the critter was harmless and good for catching bugs.
    Mike’s thoughts shifted when he followed Lamar into a room where four women sat at sewing machines, while an Amish woman and a bald, older man were seated at a table in the center of the room.
    “Everyone, this is Phyllis Barstow’s husband, Mike,” Lamar announced. “Phyllis had to go to North Dakota to help her sister who has a broken leg, so Mike’s here to take her place.”
    The Amish woman smiled and rose from her chair. “I’m sorry Phyllis won’t be able to complete the class, but it’s nice that you can be here to learn how to quilt.”
    “Yeah, I can hardly wait,” Mike muttered under his breath.
    “My name is Emma Miller, and these are the quilt squares your wife cut out last week,” Emma said, handing Mike a plastic sack. “We are in the process of stitching the squares together now, and I’d be happy to help you with that.”
    “It’s a good thing, too, ’cause I don’t know the first thing about sewing,” Mike said, wondering once more why he’d agreed to do this. It wasn’t likely that he would learn anything he could show Phyllis when she returned. He’d probably make a mess of her wall hanging.
    Emma smiled. “It’s okay. I’m here to teach you, Mike, and we’re glad to have you in our class.”
    Lamar nodded in agreement.
    “I’m not sure I’m even teachable.” Mike swiped at the trickle of sweat rolling down the side of his head. “Now give me a fishing pole, some bait, and a hook, and I’m good to go, but I’m not the least bit comfortable with a needle and thread.”
    The baldheaded man at the table chuckled. “Well, you’re in good company then, because other than appreciating the beauty of quilts, I don’t know anything about sewing, either.”
    After Emma introduced each of the students to Mike, he took a seat at the table between her and B.J. He was about to take Phyllis’s quilt squares out of the bag he’d been given, when the older woman, Noreen, let out an ear-piercing scream.
    “What’s wrong?” Emma asked, scrunching her brows.
    “Look…over there!” Noreen, her eyes wide with obvious fear, pointed to the wall closest to her. “Get it! Get it! I can’t stand creepy-crawlies in the house.”
    “If someone will help me corner the critter, I think we can catch him pretty quick,” Lamar said, moving toward the gecko.
    Mike, being the sportsman that he was, jumped up right away. “No problem. I bet I can catch