The Quilting Circle Page 4

  Prayer.

  It was the only answer she had. And pray she would. For understanding, for peace, for knowing that she was making the right decision. She had prayed her entire life for a husband to love her, care for her, and help her raise children and tomatoes. God had sent her Thomas Lapp. For that, she would be forever grateful to Him. She knew Thomas was the one for her, so why was she having so many second thoughts?

  Thankfully the subject dropped between them, and Clara Rose breathed a sigh of relief. They stitched for another twenty minutes or so and put away their quilt squares in order to fill their plates.

  It took them nearly two months, meeting once a week, to make a quilt. But Clara Rose supposed that they could do it in half that time if they spent more time quilting and less time eating. But she had to admit that the eating was almost her favorite part. Everyone brought such delicious food—old favorites, new recipes, and something that Eileen liked to call copycats. It seemed that was when you took a recipe from a restaurant and tried to make it at home.

  Clara Rose piled her plate high with seasoned pretzels, a new recipe for divinity that Mariana had been trying out for Christmas, and little chicken nugget sandwiches no bigger than half dollars.

  Before she could make it back to her seat, the front door slammed. Clara Rose whirled around to find Obie coming in.

  “Nephew!” Eileen said. “Funny how you always show up when it’s time to eat.”

  Obie turned a shade of pink that made his eyes seem even greener. He shot his aunt a sheepish grin that bore traces of apology. “It’s merely a coincidence, Auntie,” he said. “I came to see if I can give Clara Rose a ride home.”

  It was as if a spell of silence had fallen over the room. The women all stopped talking and eating, and everyone turned to look at her. Such a statement usually meant a couple would be going out together, and most always once a couple started dating they ended up married. But Clara Rose was already engaged. To someone else.

  “I mean . . .” Obie’s color deepened to a truly embarrassed red. “I just thought . . .” He shook his head. “Never mind.” He turned on his heel and found his exit as quickly as he had entered.

  “I’ll just go . . .” Clara Rose started. She didn’t allow herself time to finish as she hurried out the door after Obie.

  She found him easily enough. He hadn’t gone far. His aunt had an old porch swing hung on the branch of a large oak just to the side of the house. Obie had found his way there and was now using the heels of his walking shoes to push himself into motion.

  Clara Rose slowed her steps and made her way over to him. He didn’t bother to look up as she sat down next to him. She offered him a bite off her plate, and he shook his head, then reached out and snatched the piece of fluffy white divinity.

  “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”

  Clara Rose laughed. “No, I don’t. Yeah, well, maybe a little. But I know you care about me and that’s where all this is coming from. That means more to me than anything else.”

  He nodded and swallowed hard, then finally raised his eyes to hers. “I wish I knew what it was. I wish I knew where this bad feeling was coming from. Maybe then you would take my advice. You could see why I don’t think that he is right for you.”

  Clara Rose laid her hand on top of Obie’s knee and gave a little squeeze. “Thomas Lapp is a good man.”

  Obie nodded. “I know that. And I know how well-established his family is. And I know that they have the best horses and buggies in the county. Heck, they have a tractor they drive to church.”

  Clara Rose nodded. It was the closest thing to a car the Amish were allowed to own, and the Lapp family had the nicest one. “But you can’t tell me.” It was a soft and simple statement.

  Obie shook his head. “No.”

  “It’s all going to be okay, Obie.”

  Obie nodded. “If you say so.”

  “I do,” she said. “God sent Thomas for me to marry. This is all part of His plan. Whatever’s going on in your head, just let it go. Everything is going to be just perfect. Just wait and see.”

  Chapter Four

  But Obie just wouldn’t let it go. Three days later, Clara Rose had had about all she could take of it.

  “Every time I think about you marrying him, it makes my heart squeeze in my chest,” he said.

  She shook her head. “Quit confusing me, Obie. My thoughts are a jumble, and I can’t keep them straight.” She’d spent the evening before with Thomas and a couple more friends hanging out and playing Rook. It was a new game for them, and they had laughed and laughed as they tried to get the rules down and still come out on top. It’d been a great night: fellowship, fun, and food. And in that moment all of her doubts had disappeared. Obie was mistaken about Thomas. Last night she had known it for certain. Now, today, as she stood out in the yard and fed the chickens, the doubts resurfaced. And all because Obie “had a feeling.”

  “I don’t mean to,” Obie said, his voice pleading with her for acceptance.

  She wanted to understand—she wanted to so badly. But none of it made sense. “I know that, Obie, but please. Stop.”

  He was shaking his head before she even finished the sentence. “How can I stop when you are making the biggest mistake of your life?”

  Clara Rose dropped the bucket of feed at her feet and slammed her hands on her hips as she turned around to face him. “Mistake? How can it be a mistake, Obie, when you have not told me one thing? You have a feeling, but you have nothing to tell me. Have you seen him in Tulsa at a dance club? Is he going around with another girl? Is he violent?”

  As she asked each question, Obie shook his head, his mouth a grim line.

  “Then I don’t see anything that makes this a mistake. And I wish you would stop saying that.” He had been her friend for as long as she could remember, but her patience was wearing thin. She trusted Obie. She wanted to believe him when he told her that he was worried, but how could she continue on if he couldn’t tell her his concerns?

  “Just call off the wedding.” He held his hands out to her, reaching for her as his eyes beseeched her to listen.

  But she had had enough. “I’m not going to call off this wedding, Obadiah Brenneman. No matter what you say.” Because everything that he said was nothing more than words. He kept denying that he was worried they would lose their friendship once she and Thomas got married, but she knew that to be what it was. Now their friendship was tearing apart and all because he was being stubborn and unclear.

  “Not even for me?” His green eyes saddened as he continued to study her.

  “I can’t call off the wedding without a reason. We have been dating for almost two years. I’m twenty-one years old. I’m ready to get married. And my wedding is scheduled in less than five weeks. Then you come in here and tell me that I need to call off the wedding, but you can’t give me any specific reason as to why. Why should I listen to you?”

  “Because I care about you more than anyone else in the world. You know that.”

  “If you care about me so much, then allow me this happiness.” Obie’s doubts had started to bleed into Clara Rose’s own thoughts. Last night, as they sat around the table, everything Thomas had said had made Clara Rose begin to wonder. Was he telling the truth? Was he being sincere? Never before in the two years they had known each other had she ever questioned anything that Thomas had said.

  “I can’t allow you a happiness that will eventually ruin your life.”

  “It’s not ruining everything. You are.” The minute the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them.

  Obie straightened, his back stiff. He ground his teeth together and gave her a sharp nod. “If that’s the way you feel.” He stalked past her, toward his tractor.

  “Obie,” she called after him, but his steps never slowed.

  She watched, her heart breaking as he swung himself into the cab of his tractor and started down the drive.

  He’ll get over it, she thought to herself. But neve
r once did he look back. Never once did he wave. Clara Rose blinked back her tears and picked up the bucket of chicken feed. She sprinkled a few more handfuls around, then headed for the barn, her steps heavy.

  Half an hour later, she could stand it no more. She checked the messages on the phone hanging just inside the barn door. But Obie hadn’t called. She had known that from the start. She hadn’t heard the phone ring. But she’d had to check just to be sure.

  “There you are,” Anamaria said. “Mamm wants you to take these eggs over to the Chupp farm.”

  Why can’t you? jumped to the tip of her tongue, but she bit back the hateful words. Nerves, she told herself. She was jumpy and nervous and anxious and irritable. Part of it was Obie’s fault, and part of it was the wedding looming in the future. The most joyous time of her life was being ruined, and she was so sick of it. This should be a happy time. As much as she loved Obie, she wasn’t going to let him ruin this for her. She smoothed her hands down her apron and took a deep breath. “Jah, of course.” She took the eggs from her sister and hitched up her horse.

  * * *

  “Are you coming in, or are you going to stand out there all day?” Mammi asked as Clara Rose stood on the porch at the dawdihaus.

  “Do you have a minute to talk?” Clara Rose nodded to the purse handle her grandmother had slung over one arm.

  Mammi nodded. “I was just going to go out for a drive.” It seemed the novelty of having a racehorse as a buggy horse had not worn off yet.

  Her grandmother set her purse in the chair by the door and started back into the living room, motioning for Clara Rose to follow behind. “What’s on your mind, dear?”

  “A lot of things,” she said.

  “You want to pick one to talk about it?” Mammi asked. Her no-nonsense attitude always brought a smile to Clara Rose’s lips.

  But this time, she couldn’t muster even the smallest quirk of her mouth. “I had a fight with Obie.”

  “And?”

  Clara Rose shook her head. “He keeps telling me that Thomas and I shouldn’t get married, but he can’t give me a reason why. He just keeps saying he has a bad feeling, and that he wants me to call off the wedding. But I can’t call off the wedding. It’s five weeks away, everything is set, everybody’s coming. Four hundred people are going to be here in less than five weeks. And he expects me to just call it off?”

  “Do you want to call it off?” Mammi’s steady blue eyes studied her.

  Clara Rose didn’t hesitate. “Of course not. I’ve been waiting my whole life to get married. Why would I want to call off my own wedding?”

  Her grandmother seemed to think about it a minute, then reached over and patted Clara Rose on one knee. “Are you sure that Thomas is the right man for you?”

  Clara Rose jumped to her feet and threw her hands in the air. “Not you too!”

  Her grandmother raised a calming hand. “Now don’t get in a tizzy. I was just asking a question. If you think that Thomas is the right man for you, then what does it matter what Obie says?”

  Clara Rose wilted like a petunia in the noonday sun. “Obie is my best friend. I want to make them both happy. I want to marry Thomas, but I want Obie to be happy for me. But he’s not.”

  “Of course not,” Mammi said.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  But her grandmother shook her head. “That is something for you to figure out on your own, child.”

  * * *

  “Are you ready to go?”

  “Thomas,” Clara Rose breathed. She snapped to attention. “What are you doing here?”

  “Maybe I should ask you the same thing. You don’t normally work on Thursday.”

  “Abe asked me if I could work an extra shift. He’s got a big load going out to the Baptist church in Bixby, and he needed someone to polish it up before they load it into the truck.” She had readily agreed, needing something to settle her mind.

  “We have a date tonight.” Thomas frowned, his dark brows meeting somewhere in the middle of his forehead.

  A date? They had a date tonight? It was Thursday—what would they be doing on a Thursday night?

  “You forgot.”

  She started to shake her head and make up some excuse as to why she hadn’t remembered and explain that she surely hadn’t forgotten.

  He cut her off before she could speak. “I can’t believe you forgot.”

  “I’m sorry, Thomas. I’ve just got so much on my mind lately.” That was the truth and an understatement.

  Thomas nodded. “Uh-huh.”

  She wasn’t sure she appreciated his sardonic tone. But she wasn’t about to argue with him. Their relationship seemed so fragile these days. And not because of him. He seemed like the same old Thomas as always, steady and dependable and true. She was the one walking around on eggshells and monitoring everything that she said and he said and everyone around them said. And how he looked at her and what he wore and everything that he did, all the while trying to discern why Obie was so determined to keep them from marrying.

  Her mother’s warning from a couple of weeks back still echoed in her mind. As much as she was beginning to believe her mother had been right, she didn’t want to have to choose between Obie and Thomas. They were the two most important men in her life, and she couldn’t imagine it without either one of them.

  “The children’s hospital,” she breathed. She had forgotten all about it. Thomas had asked her a few weeks back if she and some of the other members of their youth group could go over to Pryor and visit with the sick children at the hospital. Thomas had arranged it all. Rented a car and a driver and gotten everybody together. He’d even come up with some ideas for entertainment for the children. All she had to do was show up. And she couldn’t even do that.

  “I know you’ve got a lot on your mind and everything,” Thomas said, “but I’m really disappointed that you didn’t remember this.”

  Clara Rose felt doubly repentant. Thomas’s own baby sister had died from a terminal illness when she was no more than four years old. That had been five years ago and still he loved to go to the hospital and visit with the children and brighten their day. He was a wonderful person for arranging this visit, and she was a horrible person for forgetting.

  “Just give me a minute here and I’ll be ready to go.” She didn’t need to change. She had only been at work for an hour or so, and her job was done. It wasn’t like Abe was going to need her any longer. But that wasn’t the point. She had had so much on her mind lately that she had forgotten this wonderful idea that Thomas had included her in.

  He gave a curt nod, and that little muscle jumped in his jaw like it did when he was overly thoughtful.

  Clara Rose turned on her heel and headed for the back room. “Abe,” she called, “I’m leaving now.”

  Abe Fitch looked up from the tabletop he was sanding and squinted at her through the smudged lenses of his glasses. She could almost see him clicking everything into place as if he had forgotten for a moment where he was and maybe even who he was because he was so engrossed in the job at hand. But he gave a small smile and nodded. “Jah, okay then. Be careful and thanks for coming in, Clara Rose.”

  Clara Rose took off her wood shop apron and smoothed her hands down the black one she wore underneath. She wasn’t dressed fancy, but it would do. The children at the hospital didn’t know the difference. Though she wished she had a minute to go home and maybe put on her favorite purple dress instead of the blue one that she wore, the main thing was the children.

  She grabbed her sweater and her purse and started toward Thomas. He was waiting just where she’d left him, and she was immediately overcome with her emotions and feelings for him. Obie was worried that there was something wrong with Thomas. Something about him that didn’t sit right. But how could that be? Thomas gave so much to other people, just like today’s visit to the hospital. And she would do better to remember and live by his example. Once they were married, they would be a couple, and things like
this would be part of what they did. He was a fantastic person, loving and caring, and would do almost anything for anybody around him.

  Suddenly she was surer about marrying him than she had been in a long time. Her heart fluttered in her chest, then settled down into its normal rhythm. Everything was going to be just fine.

  The good feeling lasted all of fifteen minutes. Somehow, in driving around and picking everyone up for the trip to the hospital, Clara Rose ended up in the front seat, with Thomas in the back sitting next to Sarah Yoder.

  Everyone knew that Sarah was crazy about Jonah Miller, but Jonah wasn’t over Lorie Kauffman yet. If he ever would be. At the rate that Sarah was flirting with Thomas, it didn’t seem that it mattered much to her after all.

  Clara Rose pulled down the visor and looked in the mirror to see behind her.

  Thomas was smiling and laughing at something Sarah said. And, for an instant, Clara Rose wondered if perhaps Sarah had taken advantage of the situation and positioned herself next to him.

  Clara Rose shook her head at her own wayward thoughts and snapped the visor back into place. Sarah—and everyone else in the van, for that matter—knew Thomas and she were going to get married in just a few short weeks. Sarah couldn’t capture his heart this late. Not that his heart was even up for capture. It belonged to Clara Rose. She was just being paranoid. And she needed to stop, before it ruined everything.

  Yet she turned in her seat and looked back to where Thomas sat behind her. “Did I tell you Mamm finished the last of the shirts for the wedding?”

  Thomas glanced from Sarah to her as if he had just remembered that she was sitting up front and he was sitting by another woman. But then he smiled, those brown eyes melting like hot chocolate. “Good, good. Is that everything now?”

  Most men didn’t care one iota about how the wedding preparations went. Thomas did his best every step of the way, making sure everything was in place for their big day. And that was just one more reason why she loved him.