Patchwork Christmas Read online

  Seams Like Love by Judith Miller

  Jilted by a faithless fiancé, Karla Stuke of the Amana Colonies packs away her wedding quilts in 1890, her faith in men destroyed and her hope for marriage and children shattered. Until an apprentice pharmacist arrives in town. Does Frank Lehner have the saint’s patience he’ll need to change her mind?

  A Patchwork Love by Stephanie Grace Whitson

  Jane McClure, widowed too soon, is headed west in 1875 to marry a prosperous businessman she barely knows in order to give her daughter a better life. Given shelter when a snowstorm strands her and her daughter, Jane worries that her chance is slipping away—and so does the homesteader who rescued her. Will she see what’s right in front of her?

  The Bridal Quilt by Nancy Moser

  A wealthy ingenue—the toast of 1889 New York—inadvertently causes grave injury to a poor man who protects a street urchin from a rearing horse. Remorse forces her to bring the man home, where she discovers he is someone she once considered quite a catch. Can she give up everything to love him?

  Seams Like Love © 2012 by Judith Miller

  A Patchwork Love © 2012 by Stephanie Grace Whitson

  The Bridal Quilt © 2012 by Nancy Moser

  Print ISBN 978-1-61626-748-3

  eBook Editions:

  Adobe Digital Edition (.epub) 978-1-62029-096-5

  Kindle and MobiPocket Edition (.prc) 978-1-62029-097-2

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted for commercial purposes, except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without written permission of the publisher.

  All scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.

  Cover photography by iofoto

  Published by Barbour Publishing, Inc., P.O. Box 719, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683, www.barbourbooks.com

  Our mission is to publish and distribute inspirational products offering exceptional value and biblical encouragement to the masses.

  Printed in the United States of America

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Seams Like Love by Judith Miller

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Discussion Questions

  Homestead Rose Mittens

  Prune Drop Cookies

  Date Cookies

  Judith Miller bio

  A Patchwork Love by Stephanie Grace Whitson

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Discussion Questions

  Four Patch Doll Quilt

  Springerlein

  Filling for Graham Crackers

  Stephanie Grace Whitson bio

  The Bridal Quilt by Nancy Moser

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  Discussion Questions

  Crazy Quilt Ornaments

  Grandma Lillie’s Raisin Bars

  Nancy Moser bio

  Seams Like Love

  Judith Miller

  Acknowledgments

  Special thanks to Karen Jenkins for development and use of the Homestead Rose mitten pattern.

  Special thanks to Caroline Trumpold for her willingness to meet with me and share a wealth of valuable knowledge regarding Amana quilts.

  Special thanks to the staff of the Amana Heritage Museum for their valuable research assistance.

  Chapter 1

  Upper South Village, Amana, Iowa, 1890

  Ouch!” Karla Stuke dropped her quilting needle and stuck the tip of her index finger into her mouth. Leaning forward, she examined the pale blue fabric for any red droplets. She wrinkled her nose as the metallic taste of blood assaulted her taste buds. How often must she prick her fingers before she no longer startled every time the front bell jangled or someone called her name?

  Her self-recrimination continued as she pushed away from the quilting frame. Her family had been living in the Upper South Amana Hotel for most of her twenty-four years, yet the bell still managed to surprise her at least once a week—and always when she had a needle in her hand. With so many tiny pricks in her fingers, she should be described as a human pincushion rather than an expert quilter.

  Still holding the tip of her finger between her lips, she hurried toward the hotel lobby. Who could be arriving at this time of day? The train had stopped at the depot an hour ago, and she’d registered only one guest, a salesman who’d said he was going up to his room to rest until time for the evening meal. Perhaps he, or one of the guests who had arrived on the earlier train, had decided on a bit of fresh air. At the thought of going for a stroll, Karla shivered and drew her woolen shawl tight around her shoulders. With the freezing temperatures, she couldn’t imagine anyone going outdoors unless absolutely necessary.

  She removed a white handkerchief from the pocket of her dark blue wool skirt and wrapped it around her finger. “Guten Tag! May I help …” She stopped short as the man at the front desk turned to face her.

  “Guten Tag to you, Sister Karla. It’s gut to see you.”

  “Brother Frank! I didn’t know you had returned to the Colonies. It is gut to see you as well.” She glanced toward the small gladstone bag sitting near his feet. “Or are you here for only a visit?”

  His gray eyes sparkled, and a broad, easy smile stretched across his face. “I’m finally home to stay.” He chuckled. “Well, not exactly home yet. I’m going to be living here at the hotel for a while.”

  Karla arched a brow. “And why is that?”

  Had she not known Frank so well, Karla wouldn’t have indulged in such inquisitiveness, but she and Frank were childhood friends who had skipped rocks at the pond, caught fish near the dam, and ice-skated with the other young people during the winter months. Those fun-filled childhood days had been many years ago—back before the elders sent Frank away to college and pharmaceutical school. Yet his easy manner and smiling presence took her back as if it had been only weeks ago.

  “The elders thought it would be wise for me to spend some time working at the apothecary with Brother Hueber here in South for a few months before I take charge of the apothecary in Middle Amana—a type of apprenticeship, they called it,” he said, his German returning with apparent ease. “And since my parents are now living in Middle, they suggested the hotel here in South would be a gut choice during my stay.” He grinned. “Even though I graduated from apothecary school, I’m thinking they want Brother Hueber to make certain I know what I’m doing before they assign me to work alone at the apothecary in Middle.”

  A few months after Frank had departed for college, the elders moved his parents to Middle Amana, where his father’s talents as a mechanic had been needed in the woolen mill. After the family moved, Karla had se
en little of Frank.

  She stepped behind the desk and opened the leather-bound guest register. “And does it bother you that the elders have made this decision?”

  “Nein. I’ve missed life in the Colonies.” He moved to the desk and met her gaze. “To be honest, I grew weary of explaining I was not Amish. Even after hearing my lengthy explanations, I don’t think most people understood the difference between the Amish and Inspirationists. And living in a large city was much different than our communal way of life. I even missed attending daily prayer services.”

  Karla met his steady gaze. “I remember when you were a little boy and you told me you didn’t want to belong to the Community of True Inspiration because Inspirationists attended church every day.”

  He nodded. “Ja, I remember that, but now I am grown and happy to be living in the Colonies.” He rested one hand atop the desk. “Besides, once I discovered I would be staying here at the hotel, I didn’t mind. I decided it was probably God’s way of letting us renew our friendship.”

  Heat crawled up the back of Karla’s neck. She didn’t dare look into his eyes. Swallowing hard, she dipped the nib of her pen into the ink bottle and handed it to Frank. “You should sign here.”

  When he reached for the pen, Frank’s fingers brushed against her hand and an unexpected shiver raced up her arm. She watched as he signed his name in the register, remembering how he’d printed their names in the sand along the river’s edge years ago. Back then they’d developed a close friendship, but early on she realized a plain girl like her could never win the heart of a good-looking man like Frank Lehner. Yet he had continued to keep company with her. Had it not been for Antje, Karla’s beautiful sister, she probably never would have understood why Frank maintained their friendship.

  All those years ago, Antje had sat her down and made it quite clear: pretty girls didn’t view Karla as a threat because of her plain looks. And Frank sought her out because she was willing to bait her own hook and because she wanted to ice-skate rather than sit by the fire and hold hands. Back when Antje had explained all of this, Karla had been only fourteen and hadn’t quite grasped the importance of outward beauty. Ten years later, the value of physical attributes had become painfully clear.

  Frank placed the pen atop the metal rack of the inkstand before he assumed a nonchalant stance and rested his forearms across the counter. She took a backward step. Had he heard about her engagement? Surely he must have—that must be why he mentioned renewing their friendship. A single man would never suggest a friendship with a married woman. He’d returned to the Colonies, and now he planned to take pity on her by once again offering his friendship.

  “How have you been, Karla?” He glanced over his shoulder. “I suppose I should address you as Sister Karla, but it seems strange on my tongue. I wondered if you would be living at the hotel or if the elders moved you to another house when you and Oskar married.” He stretched across the counter and lowered his voice. “How does he like working at the hotel? I cannot imagine him greeting guests and carrying luggage upstairs.” He directed a fleeting look toward the steps. “And what about your parents? Do they continue to live in the hotel?”

  At the mention of Oskar’s name, Karla’s lips tightened into a frozen smile. Determination surged through her. She would not reveal the pain that surfaced every time someone directed a pitying look at her or uttered Oskar Freitag’s name. Especially not in front of Frank Lehner, her childhood friend who’d always considered her brave and strong. She was the girl who could take a fish off a hook with greater speed than any of the boys, the girl who raced her sled down the highest hill, the girl who could outrun any boy in a footrace. She was supposed to be made of sterner stuff.

  “Let me see if I can remember all of your questions. I’m fine. Yes, you should address me as Sister Karla, for we are both much older than when we played children’s games.” She inhaled a shallow breath and hoped he couldn’t hear the pounding of her heart. Before Frank had left for college, he’d been a handsome young man with dark brown hair and gray eyes. But now, broad shoulders and a strong jawline enhanced his good looks.

  She took a deep, steadying breath. “My parents and I continue to live here in the hotel, as does my sister, Antje—at least until her wedding in February. Oskar does not work at the hotel, so you need not worry about whether he is content carrying luggage. He and his wife live in West Amana, where he now works at the flour mill. I continue to help at the hotel, and the elders have also assigned me to teach knitting and crocheting in the strickschule classes for several hours each day.” She could feel her smile beginning to droop and forced her lips back into position. “I think that was everything, was it not?”

  His brow furrowed and the sparkle in his eyes diminished. “I thought … I mean, I was told you were …” He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. “So you and Oskar never married?”

  “Nein.” Her throat squeezed and the all-too-familiar ache returned to her chest. She hoped he wouldn’t expect her to detail the failed marriage plans, but her hopes were dashed when he pushed up from the counter and folded his arms across his chest.

  “But the last I heard, the two of you had entered your year of separation in order to marry.” He hesitated, and then his jaw dropped. “Are you telling me that Oskar fell in love with someone else during your year of separation, and that he’s already married to her?”

  “Ja.” Karla looked away from him, unable to meet his intense stare. Sunlight shone through the front window and cut thick vertical patterns across the striped rug that covered a large square of pine floor in the lobby. “You’ve been gone more than long enough for all of that to happen, Brother Frank. I’m surprised someone in Middle didn’t mention it when you were home for a visit. The truth is, Oskar hadn’t been gone more than six weeks when he told me and the elders that he had changed his mind.”

  Frank unfolded his arms and placed his palms on the counter. “I never heard a word, but my Mutter has never been one to carry gossip, and you know word doesn’t spread quickly between the villages.”

  He leaned forward—as if lessening the distance between them made his account more believable. Or had he drawn closer because he expected a more detailed answer from her? If so, he would be sorely disappointed. She’d given him all the answer she could manage right now.

  Moments later, Frank straightened and inhaled a deep breath. “For whatever it’s worth, I would say that Oskar Freitag is a fool. But maybe his foolishness will be a very gut thing for me.”

  The kindness of his words and the sweetness of his tone were enough to give most any woman hope—but Karla had heard sweet words before. Frank had been a dear friend for many years. She would continue to offer her friendship, but she would not offer him her heart. The scars of being rebuffed by Oskar had left enough pain for a lifetime. Besides, once the attractive young women learned Frank had returned to the Colonies for good, he would have more than enough women seeking his attention.

  Frank tucked the room key into the pocket of his suit jacket. Karla had suggested he might want to unpack before supper, but he didn’t plan to heed her recommendation. If he remained near the front desk, she might be willing at least to visit with him. As much as he wanted to learn more about her broken engagement, he decided against pressing that topic right at the moment. When he’d lived in Upper South, they’d spent hour after hour talking and laughing when they’d gone fishing on long summer afternoons. He wanted to believe their friendship had weathered the test of time and that Karla felt the same way—that she would be pleased to reignite the easy camaraderie they had shared during their youth.

  With hopeful expectations, Frank strolled toward the overstuffed chairs not far from the front desk, but by the time he settled into position, Karla had stuffed the ledger beneath the counter and disappeared. Tapping his foot, he glanced around the empty lobby and wondered why she seemed intent on avoiding him. Had he said or done something to offend her? Perhaps he was assuming far too much. Beca
use they’d been close friends during their youth, he’d expected her to welcome him with a show of enthusiasm. Her lack of excitement had surprised him, and the disappointment stung.

  She’d probably been right: he should go upstairs and unpack. But until his trunk arrived, he didn’t have many clothes to hang. If he went upstairs and unpacked the few belongings in his bag, he would still have time for a brief visit with Brother Hueber before time for supper. He pushed to his feet, but as he neared the foot of the staircase, he changed directions. The unpacking could wait, and so could his visit to the apothecary. Right now, he wanted to know why Karla seemed so determined to avoid him.

  He’d been in this hotel many times during his youth. Had she gone upstairs, he would have seen her. Perhaps she was in the kitchen preparing for the evening meal that would be served to the hotel guests, but he hadn’t heard the rattle of pans or the clinking of dishes. In that case, she must be in the room adjacent to the lobby. The door remained slightly ajar, though no sound came from within. Feeling a bit like an intruder, Frank stepped to the doorway and peered inside.

  Karla sat at a quilting frame with her back to the doorway. From his vantage point, Frank gained a good view of her as she dipped her needle into the taut fabric and pulled it through the layers. The quilt top was one solid piece of fabric—pale blue in color—much the same as one he’d had on his bed at home. Moving a little closer, he watched as she continued making the tiny stitches.

  “Looks like a pretty pattern you’re quilting.” She startled and glanced at her finger. “I hope I didn’t cause you to stick yourself again.”

  She shook her head. “My finger is fine, but you shouldn’t be in here when I’m alone.”

  He tipped his head to one side and considered her words. She’d been friendly when he first arrived, but after he mentioned Oskar, she had become distant. “The door is open, Kar… Sister Karla, and I’m standing in the doorway, not inside the room. You’re acting as though I’m a traveling salesman or visitor rather than an old friend who lives in the Colonies.”