Read Online Elm Creek Quilts [04] The Runaway Quilt by Jennifer Chiaverini - Free Book Online Page A

English in America.” He was right, of course, and though Anneke’s attempts at conversation were at first reluctant, she gradually acquired a rudimentary knowledge of English. But in those first years, she spoke rarely to strangers, a behavior that some of the women in town misinterpreted, considering her aloof and unfriendly. Later these same women were to decide that they had been mistaken: Anneke was the friendly and charming one, while I was arrogant and full of strange notions. Their opinions might have troubled me if I had not made other friends through Dorothea, but since I had, I cared not what Anneke’s acquaintances thought of me. Perhaps I was a bit arrogant after all.
    Hans and Thomas often exchanged work, and after Hans helped Thomas bring in his harvest, Thomas helped Hans lay the foundation for the barn, about twenty paces east of our front door, between ourselves and the creek. I did not think this a wise location, for although the winds typically blew from the south-west,placing the cabin upwind of the animals’ odor, I did not relish the thought of passing the barn several times a day to fetch water. I did not mention this, of course, as I knew this to be a ridiculous complaint from someone who fancied herself a settler. It was not until the men began to raise the walls that I understood my brother’s thinking and realized what a marvel of architecture he had designed. He ingeniously built the barn into the hillside with one entrance at the foot of the hill and a second at the crest, so that one could drive the team into either story with equal ease.
    The occasion of our barn raising drew the aid of other neighbors: the Grangers, the Watsons, the Shropshires, the Engles, and the Craigmiles. How warmly I regarded them as I saw their carriages and wagons emerging from the forest onto Elm Creek Farm. Some I still hold in high esteem, but to others, my heart has turned to cold stone.
    But, of course, I did not know then how I would come to feel later. Neither, I daresay, could they have imagined what scandal we Bergstroms would bring into their midst. If they had suspected, some of them would have brought down that barn upon our heads. It amazes me now, gazing back into the past, that nothing distinguished future friend from foe, and that I never would have imagined who would later shun us and who would prove true.
    I race ahead in my eagerness to unburden myself, but I must not allow my urgency to muddle this history.
    After the barn, Hans put in a corral, intending, to my surprise, to pursue horse breeding after all. I had thought he had abandoned this idea with the loss of Castor and Pollux, but if anything, his interest had grown. “Mr. L. did not make such a good go of it,” ventured I, when I saw that Hans was determined.
    Hans merely grinned at me and said, “Sister, I think I’ve shown you I’m much more clever than Mr. L.”
    So I said nothing more to dissuade him, although to this day I do not believe Hans gained Elm Creek Farm through cleverness.
    As for Anneke and me, in addition to assisting Hans with the crops as needed, we divided our women’s work in shares that suited us both. Anneke, with her gift for needle and thread, took care of all the mending and sewing. Relieved to be rid of those detested chores, I was glad to care for the kitchen garden. In those days I was happiest working outside, the bright sun on my cheek, the fresh soil between my fingers. Anneke washed and tidied the cabin, while I cooked our meals. We took turns caring for the chickens and, after Dorothea instructed us, milking the cow.
    Daily we improved Elm Creek Farm, and daily, too, did Anneke and Hans grow more fond of each other. Theirs was a peculiar courtship, indeed, conducted while they lived in the same small house, with only an elder sister as chaperone. I had always imagined true love to be as mine was for E., evolving slowly over time as friendship transformed from the sweetness of childhood affection