The Red Quilt

By J.S. Marlo

A last-minute Christmas trip goes horribly wrong for Eli and his five-year-old granddaughter, Ruby. On their way to a Bed and Breakfast on Prince Edward Island after a kitchen fire forced them out of their house, they get caught in a blizzard and end up in the ditch.

Retired Military Nurse, Lana, lives on a potato farm with the ghosts of her husband and son. She welcomes into her home the marooned Eli and the young child he raises alone. The storm outside rages on and problems arise as Eli faces the demons and mistakes of his past, Lana becomes entangled in her neighbors’ illegal activities, and Ruby wishes for something Santa cannot give her.

The resulting mix offers hope for a second chance even as it threatens their lives. Can Eli and Lana survive another storm to enjoy the love growing between them? And will Ruby’s wish be granted?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BWL Publishing Inc.
• Release date: Nov 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9780228618645

J.S. Marlo

JS lives in Alberta with her hubby, and when she's not visiting her children and little granddaughter, she's working on her next novel under the northern lights.

Book preview

The Red Quilt

Fifteen Shades, 1

J. S. Marlo

Digital ISBNs

EPUB 9780228618645

Kindle 9780228618652

PDF 9780228618669

Print ISBNs

Amazon Print 9780228618676

BWL Print 9780228618683

LSI Print 9780228618690

Copyright 2021 by Marlene Garand

Cover art by Michelle Lee

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.

Acknowledgment

To my family and friends, thank you for your encouragement and support. You make it possible for me to write.

Many thanks to Gail and Karen for combing through every sentence of this book. You were my second set of eyes and you could read my mind. I greatly appreciate your help. Hugs!

Dedication

To all the grandmas and grandpas taking care of little ones. You are making a wonderful difference in a child’s life.

Chapter One

The winter storm battered the welcome sign swinging on two chains in front of an uninviting two-story house.

To Eli Sterling’s dismay, the charming holiday pictures on the Bed and Breakfast website bore little resemblance to reality. For the price he paid, he should have known better than to expect colorful lights running around the roof and windows, or an inflatable Santa with his fleet of reindeer ready to take off in the middle of a snowstorm.

His granddaughter would be disappointed when she woke up from her nap. He had promised her a special Christmas, not yet another heartbreak.

I’m sorry, munchkin. The five-year-old child under his care deserved more than a life filled with drama and broken promises.

Eli shifted his SUV into four-wheel drive and inched into what he hoped was an unplowed driveway, and not a ditch. The snow crunched under the tires, suggesting a layer of ice beneath the fresh powder. Afraid he might get stuck if he forced his way farther ahead, he stopped about twenty feet from the front door of the Bed and Breakfast. He left the engine running, and after jacking up the heat so Ruby wouldn’t freeze in her car seat, he got out to brave the storm.

A gust of wind tested his balance as he trudged through the snow. The bright red, orange, and yellow welcome sign creaked on its black chains. It looked freshly painted, unlike the rest of the house.

Welcome to Lisa’s Bed & Breakfast

Eli would have felt more welcomed if Lisa had shoveled the driveway and the porch.

The sun, which wouldn’t set for another hour, had gone AWOL in the middle of the storm. Though darkness hadn’t claimed the island yet, someone should have turned on the porch light.

Eli had arrived within fifteen minutes of the time agreed upon. Someone should be here to greet him. Besides, it was suppertime. Lights should filter through at least one window.

Unsettled by the lack of apparent life, he rang the doorbell, then after a few seconds, pounded on the front door.

Hey! Is someone home? Eli shouted over the wind, hoping his voice carried inside. It’s Eli Sterling. I have a reservation.

Seconds turned into minutes. As his fingers grew cold and numb in his gloves, it became obvious no one would answer. He returned to his SUV before he could no longer feel his hands, then after warming them up in front of the vents, he dialed the number on the Bed and Breakfast website.

The number you are trying to reach is no longer in service. The mechanical voice that showed no empathy toward him hung up before he could catch his breath.

No, it can’t be... Thinking he had misdialed, he tried again.

Are we there yet, Papili? I’m hungry.

The nickname that Ruby gave him when she was a toddler echoed in his ears as he listened to the same recording from the same mechanical voice.

Struggling to keep his spirits from plummeting, Eli pasted a smile on his face before looking at her over his right shoulder. Not yet, munchkin. Papili got lost. Would you like a granola bar?

Shrill giggles filled the vehicle. Ask Siri, Papili. She’ll tell you where to go.

~ * ~

The wind and the snow lashed against the house, rattling the old windows. Above the sink, the fluorescent tube flickered again.

In these parts of the island, storms often caused power outages. Before the electricity went out for the second time this month, Lana Dixon wiped her hands on a tea towel then walked into the living room. What do you think, Chewy? Should I add another log before I can’t see you and step on your tail?

Her faithful companion pricked an ear without moving from her favorite spot in front of the fireplace.

You’ll have to get up for a sec. Lana nudged Chewy away with her moccasin-clad foot. Besides, you know you’re not supposed to lay so close to the fireplace, right?

Chewy curled into a big golden ball at the foot of the recliner then stared at her with icy blue eyes.

You need to work on your puppy face, Chewy. Lana set the mesh screen aside then stirred the dying fire with a poker.

After her husband Lester got rid of the obsolete oil furnace and rewired the house with baseboard heaters, the electric bill soared, so to save money, Lana used the fireplace as her main source of heat during the winter—and her only source during power outages. Lester had also intended to buy a gas generator for emergency use during outages, but then her life had shattered again in a missed heartbeat, and the generator got lost in the rubble.

Sparks flew. Some dimmed and died in the air, others landed on the speckled brown hearth tiles. Lana added two logs to the embers. Flames leapt in the fireplace, prompting her to push the screen back in place.

The wood rack beside the back door was three-quarters full. Still, she regretted not chopping more wood when she had had a chance over the weekend. With any luck, her current stock would outlast the storm.

If I run out, I’ll just throw round logs in the fire. There was no way she would ever swing an axe in that gusty wind. She valued her toes too much.

A table clock shaped like a ship’s wheel sat on the mantle amid family pictures and the scented candles in ceramic mugs that were ready to be lit and placed around the house. As Chewy returned to her favorite spot at the edge of the ceramic tiles, the lights flickered again, then died.

Here we go again. Not only would she have to get up a few times through the night to feed the fire, but she would have to wake up Chewy to get her out of the way. It’s going to be a long night.

Her dog darted across the room and came to an abrupt halt in front of the door. Standing upright on her hind legs, Chewy scratched at the door, howling. A long, low, slow howl that chilled Lana’s blood.

She had only heard that howl once since she adopted the pup five years ago. The night her husband suffered a heart attack.

When her dog needed to go out, she sat beside the door and whined. She didn’t scrape the paint off.

Rattled by Chewy’s strange behavior, Lana petted her dog behind the ear. What is it, girl?

To Lana’s shocking surprise, Chewy howled with renewed urgency.

~ * ~

From the veranda, where the raging wind had already dumped a foot of fresh snow, Lana screwed up her eyes trying to peer through the darkness.

No one in his right mind would brave this storm and no wild animal would ignore instinct and venture outside its den.

Coyotes often wandered around the house, their high-pitched yips waking her up in the middle of the night, but the loudest response Lana had ever heard coming from Chewy was a feeble bark. The only wildlife that her dog chased was hares, squirrels, and, once, a skunk.

There’s nothing outside. Still, Chewy pulled on her leash, dragging her toward the stairs. Hold on, Chewy. Her mukluks planted in the snow, Lana restrained her dog. We’re not getting lost between the house and the road.

Straining her ears, Lana listened for a sound her dog might hear, a sound drowned out by the howling of the wind. The sun had set an hour ago, and even though her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, the storm had reduced visibility to near zero. Chewy was a blurry figure at the end of her leash.

Her ears picked up a faint noise. I hear something, I think, but all I see is the faint light of the lamppost blinking in the distance. As she spoke the words, the incongruity struck an invisible blow to her chest.

No light should blink in the middle of a power outage.

~ * ~

Lana rode her snowmobile toward the road with Chewy strapped in the cargo sled hitched behind her seat.

The lone headlight of her snowmobile didn’t pierce the night, but it shone a path forward. She stopped at the end of her long driveway where her standing mailbox withstood the storm’s onslaught.

The power outage hadn’t spared the lamppost across the road, but feet away, a faint light flickered in the ditch. As she crossed the road, she made out the partial silhouette of a vehicle, its headlights turned toward the lamppost and its taillights buried somewhere under the snow.

As soon as she killed her engine, her ears were assaulted by the ear-piercing racket of a horn. You heard the car horn, didn’t you?

Without giving her dog a second look, Lana turned her headlamp on then trudged knee-deep in the snow toward the driver’s side. After quickly assessing the scene of the accident for danger to herself and the potential occupants, she cleared the snow underneath the driver’s door with her hands and feet, then pulled on the door handle.

The figure slumped on the steering wheel tipped sideways toward her and the horn died instantly replaced by the shrill cries of a child.

As she used her body to stop the heavy figure from tumbling outside, and suffering neck injuries from the seat belt, Lana shone her light inside the vehicle.

A distressed child secured in a car seat at the back shielded her eyes with her bare hands. Papili?

I’m Nurse Lana, sugar pie. The man that she assumed to be Papili moaned against her. Papili is here. I have him. I’ll be right back to get you.

Relieved the two occupants had survived the crash, Lana unbuckled the man and zipped his winter coat. He wore gloves, but no hat and his face was smeared with blood. The cold would help with the swelling, but it would freeze his hairless noggin if he stayed outside too long.

If the engine hadn’t died, if she had feared the presence of carbon monoxide, or if she had smelled gasoline, Lana would have rescued the child first, but she hated the idea of leaving the little girl unattended in the sled.

Knowing the child was safer strapped in her car seat, sheltered from the wind, Lana grabbed the driver by the underarms and dragged him to the cargo sled.

The little girl screamed out Papili’s name.

I’m just outside, sugar pie. Feeling the child’s terror, Lana ached to alleviate it. Look out the window. Can you see me?

The day Lester had bought the eight-foot-long sled, Lana had shaken her head in disbelief, but tonight she was glad she didn’t nag him to exchange it for a shorter one.

Don’t move, Chewy. She laid the man down with his head against Chewy’s back then covered him with a blanket. I’m coming, sugar pie.

With the back door buried deep in the snow, too deep to dig out, Lana was forced to kneel on the driver’s seat and wiggle her upper body between the two front bucket seats.

I’m here, sugar pie. While she was glad to see the child didn’t wear a winter coat in her car seat as it could have left the harness too loose to be effective in the crash, Lana wished a blanket had been draped over her. Papili is waiting for us outside. She spoke softly while unbuckling the tight harness. What’s your name? Is it...Cinderella? Snow White?

Tears streaked down the child’s rosy cheeks as spasms rocked her body, but to Lana’s relief, and her ears’ delight, the screams had morphed into hiccups. Ru-by.

Ruby is a lovely name. Once she freed the child from the last strap, Lana tickled her socked feet. Do you have boots to keep these tootsies warm?

A shy smile curled up Ruby’s lips. On the floor.

Can you stay in your seat for a second? The beam of her headlamp shone on a pleated throw discarded on the floor. She placed it on Ruby then retrieved the boots, coat, hat, and mitts hidden underneath. Let’s get you dressed.

Once Ruby was all bundled up, Lana wrapped her in the throw and picked her up. The little girl weighed less than two sacks of potatoes. As soon as Lana stepped outside, Ruby nestled her head against her shoulder, warming Lana’s heart.

~ * ~

Lana had feared it might distress Ruby to see her dragging an unconscious and bleeding Papili onto the living room sofa, but Chewy licking the muffin crumbs from her pretty unicorn shirt had caught the child’s undivided attention.

Papili, can you hear me? Short of a better name, Lana used Ruby’s nickname.

With the bump on his forehead, two black eyes, and a crooked nose, the man looked like he had lost a fight in a back alley. The dried blood she had wiped from his face had come exclusively from his broken nose, but she hadn’t ruled out a concussion or internal bleeding, yet.

His eyes fluttered. Ru-Ruby...

Ruby is fine. She’s eating a muffin by the fireplace. While she hadn’t determined his exact relationship with Ruby, Lana was pleased he remembered the little girl. I’m Lana. Are you in pain?

Through two narrow slits, he gazed at her with piercing dark eyes. Yes...I...I saw something in the middle of the road. I tried to avoid it... He winced as he spoke, but he didn’t struggle to breath. Where am I?

She forged her most reassuring smile. You’re in the house across the ditch into which you rolled your vehicle. Can you tell me where it hurts?

With his fingers, he patted every inch of his head. I feel like someone took a swing at my face and hit a homerun.

Between you and me, it looks more like a grand slam, she teased. Sensing a presence behind her, Lana looked over her shoulder. Ruby and Chewy had sneaked up on her. Come here, sugar pie. Papili is awake and he wants to see you.

The child approached the sofa and scrunched up her cute button nose. You have lots of owies, Papili, but that’s okay. She ran a hand down his cheek then kissed his chin. You will feel better tomorrow.

A chuckle escaped his mouth as he enveloped the little girl with a tender hug. I’m already feeling better, munchkin. Were you scared? Ruby bobbed her head against his shoulder. It’s okay to be scared. I was scared too. Are you hurting anywhere?

No, but I’m still hungry. The little girl turned a charming puppy face toward Lana. Can I have another muffin? Pleeease?

Laughter bubbled inside Lana’s chest. The muffins are on the kitchen table, sugar pie. Lana had moved the candles to the window ledge above the sink, out of reach of little hands. You can go and eat as many as you want.

A soft thank you floated in Ruby’s wake as she ran toward the kitchen with Chewy on her heels.

The man whose name Lana still didn’t know attempted to sit. Was she injured?

Lana gently but firmly pushed on his right shoulder, halting his efforts.

No. The straps over her shoulders were padded and the harness was tight. When she had helped Ruby take off her coat, Lana had also examined her upper body for bruises but seen none. You buckled her up properly, but unfortunately for you, your airbag didn’t deploy. Would it be okay if I undo your shirt and jeans so I can examine you?

Go ahead. He sank back into the sofa. Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, they actually did.

You’re wrong. Things could have gotten even worse than they did. Lana parted his shirt in silence. One or both of them could have died tonight.

A bruise the width of his seat belt ran across his muscular chest from his left shoulder to below his right nipple, but the discoloration didn’t extend to his lower abdomen or hips. He only flinched when she touched the bruise, not when she palpated his chest or his abdomen.

At this time, I don’t feel anything unusual or worrisome, but if your condition worsens instead of improving, you will need to go to the hospital. She zipped his jeans then proceeded to button his shirt. May I ask your name or what you were doing on a backroad in the middle of a blizzard after nightfall?

Eli...Eli Sterling. I’m from Halifax. I got lost searching for a place to eat and spend the night. After the oven caught on fire and burned the kitchen last week, I wanted to take my granddaughter away from the renovations and give her a special Christmas. Having to deal with a house fire two weeks before Christmas sucked, but it didn’t explain why he traveled alone with his granddaughter. I’d booked a three-week holiday vacation at Lisa’s Bed and Breakfast, except when I got there earlier...let’s just say they did have my reservation.

The owner of Lisa’s stopped accepting reservations when he died over the summer, so Eli couldn’t have booked a room unless the rumors she had heard were true. The bed and breakfast closed permanently last August after the heirs of the estate contested the owner’s will, but there were rumors in the fall that someone was making money advertising fake getaways at Lisa’s. You didn’t pay upfront for the three weeks, did you?

If I paid for two weeks, the third one was free. A long sigh deflated his chest. I knew the deal was too good to be true. Now I’ve ruined her Christmas. He placed his large hand over Lana’s. Thank you for coming to our rescue. I couldn’t have lived with my conscience if something had happened to Ruby. I know I have no right to ask you this, but if you don’t mind us spending the night here, we’ll be out of your hair in the morning.

Decades ago, she had become a nurse so she could heal people, but it didn’t shield her from the wrenching pain of losing the ones she loved. The Christmas season was a stark reminder of the worst day of her life.

She doubted the blizzard had brought them to her front step to lessen her loneliness over the holidays, but twist of fate or not, she couldn’t throw them out.

The storm is supposed to rage for forty-eight hours, Eli. The plow won’t clear the backroad until the storm is over. Your vehicle won’t be out of that ditch until a day or two after that, then good luck getting it repaired by the end of December. Like it or not, you and Ruby are stuck with me for Christmas, but make no mistakes, your stay won’t be free. Once you’re back on your feet, there are two cords of wood waiting to be chopped.

The reflection of flames dancing on his face unveiled the ghost of a smile. Yes, ma’am.

~ * ~

The bedroom that Lana only entered once a month to dust, hadn’t welcomed a child in a long time.

She gave Ruby a flashlight. Choose two books from the bookshelf while I make the bed, then I’ll read them to you.

Clad in Lana’s smallest and shortest t-shirt, Ruby knelt in front of the bookshelf in her makeshift nightgown.

Earlier on, Eli had assured her that Ruby wouldn’t fall from a twin bed. Still, after changing the sheets, Lana pushed the bed against the wall, cutting the risk of a painful tumble by half. The lively little girl didn’t look a day older than four, so it had surprised Lana to hear that Ruby had turned five last July and attended kindergarten.

Ruby crawled into bed with a stack of books. Papili always shnuggles with me when he reads me a story.

When Ruby realized her grandfather had fallen back to sleep while she received a sponge bath, she had given him a soft goodnight kiss on the cheek then tiptoed away so she wouldn’t wake him up. The level of empathy and understanding that Ruby displayed went far beyond her few short years.

A wave of bittersweet memories washed over Lana as she propped herself against the pillows and wrapped an arm around the warm little body. You’ll have to point the flashlight on the pages. So, which book should we read first?

Ruby handed her a Robert Munsch book: Un ours pour déjeuner!, the French version of Bear for Breakfast. I have this book at home. It’s my favorite.

A friend from Northern Ontario had come to visit her last year and forgotten the three French version Munsch books that she had bought at the Montreal airport while waiting for her connecting flight. By the time Lana found the shopping bag under the bed, her friend had returned home and bought new copies for her grandson. Lana had kept the books with the intent of giving them to the