The Quilt Room Secret

By Lisa Jones Baker

Bloomington, Illinois 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Barbour Publishing
• Release date: Feb 1, 2024
• ISBN: 9781636097763

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Arthur, Illinois

Trini Sutter didn’t fear much. But she wasn’t fond of heights. Still, she stood on her aluminum ladder’s top step amid her beloved peach tree’s green, leafy foliage. Focused on her balance, she held her breath as she extended her clippers to the broken branch. Last night’s windstorm had wreaked havoc on her orchard.

Finally, the pruners gripped the limb. Taking great care not to fall, she steadied herself and squeezed the wooden handles together. The moment the sharp blades bit into the wood, a noise startled her from behind. As the limb dropped from the bushy tree, Trini lost her footing, dropped the clippers, and fell.

Branches scraped her face and hands as she plummeted through the foliage. With a quick, automatic reflex, she put her hands in front of her to protect her face as she hit the hard, dry ground. The forceful impact claimed her breath, and when it returned, she released a shaky scream. Excruciating pain bit her left wrist. The pruners had landed with the tips spread in a V, pointed down in the earth.

At the sound of a low voice, she recalled the soft footsteps that had stolen her attention just long enough to cause her to lose her balance. A set of strong arms reached down and lifted her to a sitting position as her heart pounded from the shock of the fall. She looked up to see a somewhat familiar-looking man with an expression of urgency.

His gentle touch put her at ease. You … you startled me.

I’m really sorry. But here, let’s make sure you’re okay. Can you stand? His soothing voice expressed concern.

Before she could reply, he went on. I didn’t mean to surprise you. Again, I apologize for causing your fall. I’ll make sure you’re all right.

As she caught her breath, his voice softened. You’re bleeding, Trinity.

Quickly, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed her bottom lip. I’m sorry.

She winced at the fierce throbbing in her wrist. She’d have to stand without the help of her left arm.

Who is this man? Do I know him? And why on earth is he in my backyard?

She gratefully accepted his assistance to avoid putting weight on her left hand as she rose from the ground. When she looked up at those familiar blue eyes, she almost touched noses with the blond-haired man who’d bent to help her.

Thick brows narrowed in great concern, and his compassionate voice again conveyed deep regret for having made her fall. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and black suspenders accented his navy shirt.

How’s that lip?

She glanced at the blood on the handkerchief and nodded. I’ll be fine.

Trini was fully aware that independence highlighted her DNA. Except for her daed, when he’d been alive, she had never depended on a man for anything—and she didn’t plan to start now. Because of that, she wasn’t fond of the vulnerable position she’d put herself in. Or rather, that they’d both landed her in. After all, his footsteps had been the distraction that had caused her accident.

Trinity, let’s get you to your house to ice that arm.

She held her left palm up. His face was close to hers, and she could smell his woodsy scent.

Again, she took in his familiar eyes, which seemed to penetrate right through her.

You don’t remember me, do you? Before she could respond, he said, Jacob Lantz. I came over to let you know we’re neighbors now. Aunt Margaret left her farm to me and my brothers.

The moment she recognized that name, Trini forgot about her pain and everything she’d set out to accomplish that morning. Sweet memories of this man prompted the corners of her lips to curve into a gentle smile.

Jacob, of course. She lowered the pitch of her voice to a more sympathetic, apologetic tone. My condolences. You must know how everyone loved her. Me included.

"Denki."

She continued to study him. I knew I’d seen you before. After a thoughtful pause, she went on. You’re certainly not the little five-year-old boy I pushed on your aunt’s swing.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

You do remember me.

She nodded.

Lost moments escaped her as she absorbed his ruggedly handsome features. In the distance, she barely noticed the two-story houses that dotted the vast landscape of Arthur, Illinois. As a ditch fire’s smoke soared upward into the blue sky before gradually evaporating into the horizon, her strength began to return.

I have to get up.

He knew her. And she knew him, even though it had been years since they’d seen each other. She started to ask something but, for a quick second, forgot what it was while drifting back to blissful memories. His once cute boyish features now conveyed a confident yet humble expression. Hazy chalk-white flecks hovered behind his irises. And when he smiled, the curve of his lips softened.

Suddenly, an excruciating, sharp pain in her left wrist claimed her, and agony quickly brought her back to reality. She squeezed her eyes closed a moment to garner strength.

Without warning, he moved, swiftly wrapping his arms around her again. This time, though, his embrace was tighter, as he scooped her up into a standing position. After taking a breath, he dropped his hands to his sides and looked down at her with an endearing expression that was a sweet combination of hopefulness and uncertainty.

His attention shifted. How are those hands?

She held them up in front of her, and he gently took her right palm in his large one. He lightly touched different spots around her wrist. How’s that feel?

She nodded. Okay. A little tender, but nothing to complain about.

He smiled a little. "Gut."

He warmly pressed her hand in his before guiding it to her side. Then he took her left fingers. His touch was warm and gentle. She couldn’t help but wonder how such strong-looking hands could produce such tenderness. As he gently moved each finger one by one, she frowned. I can barely move them.

Before he could say anything, she went on. I’m not complaining, she confirmed.

His eyes lit up. As they did, the blau color deepened a bit. The shade reminded her of a stormy sky on a summer afternoon and the beautiful quilt she’d recently made for a new grandson of a tourist.

Why are you smiling at me like that? she asked.

Like what?

Like you know a secret.

You really want to know?

Of course.

A low chuckle escaped his throat.

You haven’t changed a bit, Trinity.

I go by Trini now.

He stared deeply into her eyes. To her dismay, her heart skipped a beat. She silently scolded herself for her reaction but reasoned that she was vulnerable right now. After all, a single man touching a single woman was inappropriate. But didn’t these unusual circumstances warrant forgiveness? She was definitely in an awkward position. And his attention to her genuinely expressed great concern.

"I mean, those are the same autumn-brown eyes I remember. And your hair is still rusty braun. And most of all …"

What?

A shy smile appeared on his face.

It’s your spirit, Trini. It’s still there. After clearing his throat, the volume of his voice became so soft, she could barely hear him. I always liked that about you.

Her breath caught in her throat with surprised happiness. My spirit?

Your fearlessness. How you took things straight on. An airplane left a white trail in the sky. A loud, demanding whinny came from some distance away.

She turned to the pasture and the horse that had stolen her attention. She joked, I think Honey might be jealous of you.

He looked down at her with interest. Honey’s your horse?

Mm-hmm.

It’s a female?

No. But I named him for the beautiful honey-colored hair between his eyes. Trust me—the name fits him well. And somehow he knows that I’m really here to take care of him and not the other way around.

They laughed together.

I’m sure he appreciates your fearlessness too. I’ll never forget when we used to swing. You weren’t afraid to go too high. And remember that little garden snake that scared your sisters?

Trini couldn’t stop a laugh from escaping. "Jah. I picked it up."

He nodded. You did.

She’d never thought of herself as fearless. But it pleased her to know that Jacob liked her that way. She warmed inside. He was making her feel so gut about herself that if she warmed any more, she’d catch fire. Happy with his compliment, she let him check the remaining fingers of her left hand.

He looked at her reaction.

I can’t move this thumb at all.

As his fingers migrated to the tender area on her wrist, she tensed and let out a moan, then drew in a deep breath to get a grip on her pain. After a moment, her shoulders relaxed a little. I rarely see a doctor, but I need to. I think it’s broken. It’s throbbing something fierce.

He focused on the delicate part of her arm above her wrist. You’re probably right. I’m no doctor, but the break is obvious. The bone is pushing against your skin like it wants out.

He narrowed his brows and continued to compare her arms. When she looked up at him, his tone carried doubt. Hmm. Your left wrist has started to swell. You think you can make it to the house?

She couldn’t stop her lips from curving in amusement. It’s my arm that’s the problem, Jacob. My legs still work, I think. Thank goodness.

He chuckled. Gut. He hesitated. Although the thought of carrying you home is appealing.

She knew all too well from her upbringing that her unexplained longing to stay here and talk to him all day was totally wrong. She wasn’t sure why.

And she didn’t know if he was kidding or if he was serious about carrying her. But she wasn’t able to laugh at the prospect of being carried because the stabbing sensation in her left wrist quickly intensified to a whole new level.

First, let’s get you to your house and ice that arm. After that, we’ll head to an ER. You know someone who can take us?

She nodded. While the warm May breeze caressed her forehead, a sense of déjà vu filled her. Trini had never been one to complain. Yet she allowed him to help her.

With light pressure, he pressed his fingers against the small of her back, and they started slowly to her house. Suddenly she realized how disheveled she must look and ran her right hand over her navy dress to smooth it out. As he spoke, his tone was a welcome combination of reassurance and confidence.

You okay?

Jah.

It looks like that fall got you all scratched up.

I don’t think anything happened that can’t be fixed.

In silence, they continued. But the fall—or maybe it was the pain—had stolen some of her energy. Whatever the case, the relatively short distance to her house seemed like a hundred miles.

She tried to focus on the layout of her yard to forget her pain. Trini glimpsed the white flat sheets that gracefully floated up and down with the breeze. The vast stretch of green grass and the quaint, old one-story house she’d bought only a year ago revealed Trini’s favorite things. Her generous-sized garden showed the start of tiny green plants in straight rows. Deep red geraniums accented the winding dirt path that leisurely made its way from the garden to the side porch. Simple wire clotheslines extended from two poles next to the side porch. A chicken ran loose in the yard, occasionally pecking the ground.

To some, her method of drying clothes might be considered a bit prehistoric. But to Trini, the lines helped to contribute a fresh spring scent while nature did its work.

A white propane tank sat next to her porch. The firepit was void of its usual lawn chairs, which had been moved to the barn before the windstorm hit.

I remember when you lived with your family; it must’ve been a few miles from here.

She nodded. "Jah. I’m blessed that my local store, and especially the business I garner from the internet site run by an Englisch friend, has allowed me to move here. I own The Quilt Room."

So I’ve heard. Gut for you.

The day had begun with cleaning up the bends and breaks in her precious peach trees. But the morning had certainly taken a turn south, because right now the only thing on her mind, besides the dull pain in her wrist, was her kind, handsome, soft-spoken neighbor who sparked beautiful childhood memories. As the sun slipped out from under a fluffy cloud, the brightness caused her to momentarily close her eyes.

Trini gave up on diverting her thoughts from her arm and Jacob and instead made herself take a deep breath to focus on reality.

Whoa there! Careful, Jacob warned. Go around that hole.

Oh!

The last thing we need is for you to trip too. After a short pause, he added, By the way, you have an awfully keen sense of hearing.

She contemplated what he meant.

I mean, you must’ve heard my footsteps on the grass.

She smiled a little. Perhaps it’s because my ears are trained to listen for customers who enter my shop. That is, when I’m in the back room quilting, she added for clarification.

They continued toward the house. In the far distance, two buggies traveled the country road. Although her home was set quite a distance from a family she went to church with, she could glimpse the five kinder playing. The boys went barefoot with their trousers rolled up to their ankles. They appeared to be involved in a game of tag.

That was some storm last night, jah?

Uh-huh. And that’s precisely why I was about to trim broken branches. The wind left me with plenty of cleanup.

Enthusiasm edged his voice. I can help you with that. While they walked, he glanced down at her injured arm, which she clutched at her chest. If that’s broken, you’re going to need a hand with chores.

Trini silently agreed. But perhaps her arm would heal quickly. She would soon find out.

She couldn’t help noticing Jacob’s striking features. In the Amish church, she’d been taught to look at the inside of a person, not the outside. But as a woman, even though she was of the Plain faith, how on earth could she not notice his heavenly smile and strong arms? She still couldn’t get over how the years had been good to him.

Several heartbeats went by. You’ve changed a lot. After the words had come out, she added, But of course you have. Her voice sounded soft and unsure as it wavered with emotion. After all, this wasn’t what she’d planned for her Saturday. This accident would require her to completely rewrite her day’s to-do list, which would result in a total redo of her entire week’s list. She let out a disappointed sigh.

For some odd reason, Jacob offered her a much-welcome sense of reassurance. She guessed that his kindness had a lot to do with how unusually vulnerable she was. He reminded her of the outdoors. Like in the fall, how the air smelled when she raked her massive piles of oak leaves. When he looked at her, his deep blue eyes seemed to penetrate her soul. But she was at ease with him. It was a comfortable feeling. Like when she put on her knit slippers on a cold winter’s night.

At her side door, she sighed with relief. We made it.

Inside her kitchen, the fresh smell of recently washed curtains floated lightly through the air. The wood floor shone with polish. He quickly helped her to a chair and got right down to business, wrapping a clump of ice cubes in paper towels.

He smiled sheepishly. This isn’t a professionally made ice pack by any means, but it should do for now.

She held out her arm for him to gently place the simple-looking pack on the injury. She gasped at the sudden cold, but it wasn’t long before the ice pack numbed her pain.

Without wasting time, he gently took her other arm in his free hand and carefully placed her palm on top of the pack. Try to keep the painful area cold while I work on a ride. You said there’s someone to drive us to an ER?

Before she could answer him, his gaze drifted to all four walls where lists were taped in various places. As if not sure which paper to use, his focus finally landed on the white piece in the middle of her kitchen table. When she met his eyes, he lifted a curious brow, and his lips curved in amusement. I see that you’re a list maker. Are these your phone numbers?

She couldn’t help but smile a little. That’s one of my lists, but not the one you need. She pointed at the small corkboard on the wall in front of her.

It’s the yellow paper. And I drew stars by two Englisch neighbors who can usually help me in a pinch. Their numbers are next to their names. Call either one.

He retrieved the list and turned back toward her. Where’s your phone?

She motioned with her head. In the barn.

He winked. Wish me luck. He rushed out, and the screen door sprang shut behind him.

Once he was outside, she relaxed. For some reason, Jacob stirred emotions within her that she hadn’t known she had. Definitely, pain was affecting her, as was the tremendous shock from the unexpected fall. But so was the surprise reappearance of Jacob in her life. She hadn’t been aware that Margaret Lantz had willed her farm to her nephews.

For a few moments, Trini allowed herself to drift back in time, to fifteen years ago when she and Jacob had bonded at his late aunt’s house. Jacob’s daed had left his family, and his beloved Aunt Margaret had kept the Lantz brothers while their mamm had looked for work in Lancaster County. For the duration of a few weeks, Trini had befriended Jacob during his temporary stay in Arthur. Margaret had been close to Trini’s family, and for reasons unbeknownst to Trini, Jacob’s aunt had thought she would be a good role model for him. She closed her eyes and vividly envisioned the tire swing that still hung by a thick rope from a strong, high branch in one of Margaret’s oaks.

She remembered Jacob pushing her. She could almost feel each shove that he’d given the old tire. She could hear Jacob’s soft voice as he’d expressed his sadness and fear that his daed had left them and that he’d planned to get a job to support his family. She smiled. He’d been a mere five years old. He obviously remembered her well, and she’d never forgotten him either.

Perhaps, over the years, I’ve thought about him more than I care to admit. But this is today. And I have plans for my life.

It was highly unusual for Trini to remember someone from so long ago with any depth. She couldn’t name his favorite color or his favorite hymn. In fact, she barely knew anything about him. But she knew his heart. It was an especially kind heart. A heart that had been broken by his father’s unexpected departure.

And the soft tenderness in his low voice was so endearing, compassionate. His eyes were the most gorgeous shades of blue she’d ever seen—almost too beautiful to be real.

She moved closer to the table. With great care, she repositioned her throbbing arm on the corner, where she rebalanced Jacob’s simple ice pack on top of the tender area.

Trini sat up straighter so her shoulders touched the chair’s back. A fly buzzed in front of her, but she didn’t dare swat it away. Her ice pack was right where it needed to be, and the cold definitely warded off fierce pain.

She instinctively took in all her lists on the table, the countertop, even the walls, and decided that Jacob was justified to think that she was addicted to relying on penned words. The posts that appeared everywhere might give one the impression that she was disorganized. But the truth was the antithesis of that. She was the most organized person she knew, and her lists kept her that way. She needed them to function.

As pain continued to evaporate, she reflected on Jacob’s physical changes since she’d last seen him. She smiled.

He’s special. Only it’s a different kind of endearing than it used to be. He’s definitely not the shy little boy I took under my wing. Ironically, he’s now taking me under his wing. Our roles have reversed. For today anyway.

The pain in his young voice echoed in her mind. Jacob had so earnestly and so innocently opened up to Trini about his heartache and his fear. At that time, she’d been unsure how to help. She’d tried her best to reassure him that everything would be okay.

Jacob’s honest, open confession had sparked a motherly instinct in her that she hadn’t been aware she had. Four years his senior, Trini had tried her best to reassure and protect that little boy, and a strange and wonderful bond had developed between them. To this day, that bond was apparently still strong.

Bright sunshine beamed in from the living room window and shone through the open space between the rooms before landing on the beautiful floral centerpiece in the middle of her kitchen table. For a few moments, her glance lingered on the delicately arranged dried flowers made by Serenity, one of her two dearest friends.

The memory of the wildflower bouquet that Jacob had picked her behind his aunt’s home years ago, right before he’d returned to Lancaster, crept into her thoughts