Patchwork Family

He actually sounded concerned. She decided it was part of his routine, charm any female within a hundred yards. But she wasn’t susceptible.

“She’s much better, thank you.”

“Good. Have you taken her to your doctor?”

“We have an appointment for Wednesday afternoon.”

“Ah. That’s wise.”

“Yes. Thank you for calling to check on her.”

Before she could hang up the phone, he spoke again. “Wait! I came by Friday morning to tell you I talked to the mayor about your problem. He said he felt sure the zoning change Ursula is protesting will probably pass. All the councilors are in favor of your business.”

“Oh! Oh, thank you, Mr. Spencer. I appreciate your assistance.”

“Don’t hang up. I have an idea that might improve your situation.”

“You do?”

“You needn’t sound so incredulous, Mrs. Blake,” he muttered.

“I apologize,” she said hurriedly. “What idea?”

“I thought you should have an open house, invite your neighbors, the town leaders, anyone else with power, to see the changes you’ve made. I can remember how that house looked when Christopher’s mother lived there. You’ve made a lot of difference. I think your neighbors would be impressed.”

Molly was stunned. “I hadn’t thought of that. Do you really think it would help?”

“Yes, I do. And invite Ursula.”

“What?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Invite that woman into her home?

“Let her see what you’ve done. It probably won’t change her mind, but you never know.”

Molly swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “I’ll think about what you’ve said, Mr. Spencer. And thank you for calling me to give me your favorable report.”

“You’re welcome. And tell Sara I’m glad she’s feeling better.”

“Yes, thank you.”

She hung up the phone, relieved that her future looked hopeful. But she was also disturbed. She’d just lied to the man.

She had no intention of saying anything to Sara on his behalf.

“YOU STILL HAVEN’T TOLD US your plan,” Lydia protested on the next Friday afternoon. “It’s going to be Christmas before you know it.”

“What’s wrong with Christmas?” Martha asked. “You got something against it?”

“Of course not! But I was hoping Molly and little Sara might not have to be alone then. It’s difficult to spend Christmas without any family.”

“Even I can’t act that fast,” Martha muttered.

“I guess you’re right,” Lydia agreed, her shoulders sagging. “I was hoping for too much.”

“That doesn’t mean we’ve given up,” Emma chimed in.

“We haven’t?” Lydia asked, perking up.

“Of course not,” Martha reassured her just as the door opened and Quinn Spencer walked in.

“How are my favorite ladies today?” he asked, a smile on his face. He rounded the table greeting each of them.

“We’re better for seeing you, my dear, don’t you know,” Martha said, patting his arm. “I’m so glad you could stop by.”

“You know I would never ignore a request from you, Martha,” Quinn said. “What’s wrong? Is your stash of candy low?” He pulled a bag of peanut-and-chocolate candy from his coat.

She eagerly took them. “Thank you, but no, that’s not why I asked you to come by. We need you to do us a favor. I know how busy you are, but I thought on your lunch hour you could run an errand for us.”

“Sure.” While he spoke, he surveyed their work. “You’ve started a new one?” he asked, referring to the quilt they were now working on.

“Yes,” Emma said. “We do them in sections, you know. We don’t just work on one quilt straight through.”

He nodded, smiling at her. “I remember.”

Martha touched his hand. “See those two quilts? They’re king-size, which makes them very large and heavy. We need to get them to Molly, but none of us are strong enough, and she’s too little to manage on her own. I wondered if you’d deliver them for us? She’s just a few blocks away.”

They all saw his hesitation, unusual for Quinn when they asked something of him. Several glances were exchanged, but not Martha’s. She sat stitching, supreme confidence on her face that Quinn would accommodate her.

“Um, it’s a busy day, Martha, but I can hire someone to take care of that for you. I can see where they’d be a problem.”

Martha looked at him briefly, allowing surprise to show on her wrinkled face. Then she reached out and patted his hand. “That’s all right, dear. We can hire someone. It was just— Well, you know how sentimental we are about our quilts. I wanted them to be specially delivered, but… I’ll call the grocery store and get a couple of their package boys to— No, no, they might not have clean hands.”

“We could call the hardware store. Some strong young men work there,” Emma suggested.

“Or maybe—” Beatrice began.

“Never mind,” Quinn interrupted. “I’ll take care of it. I can shift some things.”

“Oh no, dear,” Martha said. “We don’t want to interrupt your busy schedule. We’re just grateful you can make time to come see us occasionally. We don’t want to—”

“You old fraud,” Quinn teased, his voice husky. “You know I wouldn’t miss coming to see you.” He leaned over to kiss her cheek again.

“Such a sweet boy,” Martha said as she patted his cheek, her voice full of love.

His cheeks flushed, Quinn moved over to the quilts. “I’ll take care of these right now, so don’t worry about your precious delivery. They’ll arrive safe and sound.”

After the door closed behind him, Martha winked at her friends. “And so what will be our next step?”

THIS WAS A GOOD THING, Quinn assured himself.