“Who made this quilt?” she asked.
“My mamm. Years ago.”
It was a simple block quilt, and she could see a few blocks that hadn’t lined up perfectly. It was the kind of quilt a girl started on, learning as she went. Although, Rachel would have been a wife already when she started learning, she realized.
“I made a few quilts like this,” Patience said, running her fingers over the stitching. “In fact, a basic block quilt would be best for Rue’s quilt, I think.”
“Would you be willing to make it for her?” Thomas asked. He looked over at her, and there was something about his warm gaze that made her look down again.
“Sure, yah. I could.”
“I’d pay you for your time,” he said. “I’m not trying to take advantage of your good nature, or anything.”
“You don’t have to pay me,” she said with a faint smile. “It will give me something to work on in the evenings.”
It would give her something to do besides grading papers, quite frankly. And it would help her to feel like she was useful, because that was the thing that had been hanging on her these last few years—a feeling of general uselessness. Yes, she could cook and clean, but so could her mamm. She was the barren, single daughter left at home—loved, of course, but not really needed for the running of things. Teaching school was supposed to help with that, but now that she was here in Redemption, she wasn’t so certain that it would fill all the gaps. There were a few left over. What Patience wanted most was a home of her own, but that didn’t seem likely.
“I messed up by taking Rue’s Englisher clothes away,” Thomas said.
Patience looked over at him, surprised by the abrupt change in subject. His expression was less guarded now, and he watched his daughter play in the water as he talked.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” he went on. “If you’d seen her doing her very best to be good—so solemn and careful—and then begging me with tears in her eyes to give them back...”
Patience’s heart gave a squeeze. “She’s learning, but so are you.”
“Yah, but I’m the parent, and it’s in my power to ruin her. She can’t ruin me.” Thomas sighed. “If you ever notice I’m doing something that I probably shouldn’t, tell me, okay?”
“Are you sure you want me to?” Patience asked. “It would be intruding, interfering.”
“It would be insight from a friend,” he replied, and he turned his dark gaze toward her.
“Am I a friend?” she asked.
“Yah. I thought so. You don’t?”
Patience smiled, then shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m a neighbor lending a hand. I wasn’t sure if you’d want more from me after this.”
She knew that her words were loaded—wanting more from her... And she didn’t really mean the implied intimacy, because even if he did want more from their relationship, he’d change his mind once he knew that she’d never have kinner. She caught Thomas’s gaze locked on her, and she looked up, smiling self-consciously.
“What?” she said.
“You’re very beautiful,” he said quietly.
His words slipped beneath her defenses, and she felt her cheeks heat. Why did he say things like that?
“I’m the plain sister in my family,” she said with a low laugh, trying to push away his compliment. “I was never the pretty one. Trust me on that.”
“You’re the pretty one for me,” he replied.
Did he really think so, or was he flirting? It was hard to think of herself in that way.
“You shouldn’t talk like that,” she said. “I’m the schoolteacher, and you’ll be embarrassed later when Rue is in my classroom and you’ll remember sweet-talking me by the creek.”
“I won’t be embarrassed,” he said, and his expression was completely honest. “I’m only telling you the truth.”
He’d be married to someone else, no doubt, and that would change things. But she didn’t want to say that out loud. There was something about this quiet morning that she wanted to protect. Even if he never thought of it again, she would.
“Tell me about you,” he said after a moment of silence. “You have sisters, you said.”
“There are six of us—and I’m the youngest,” Patience replied. “They’re all married now with kinner of their own. So I’m the favorite aunt of seventeen youngsters.”
Thomas chuckled. “I like that.”
“One of my nephews has a learning disability, and I was the one who taught him to read and write,” she said. “His name is Mark, and when he was born, he had the cord wrapped around his neck so he didn’t get oxygen fast enough. It affected him.”
“That’s awful,” Thomas said.
“Gott brought him through. And now, he’s the funniest kid—he tells jokes and has the other kids in stitches. The teacher couldn’t take the time with him, though, and I think he distracted the class a lot because he’d rather joke than admit the work was too hard for him. He kept getting notes sent home, and his daet was just beside himself trying to get him to behave. But I sat him down and took the time he needed to really understand. And after that, I thought I’d like to teach. It’s very satisfying watching kinner catch on, especially when they’ve really struggled with it.”
“They must miss you,” Thomas said.
“Oh... I suppose. Somewhat. But they all have their own families.”
“You’re a part of their families,” he countered.
“I know. And they do miss me, I’m sure. I’m just feeling the—” She stopped. She was talking too much.
“Feeling what?” he asked.
“I needed this change,” she said, and she forced a smile.
“There’s a fish!” Rue called from the creek. She stood there, water just
