A Quilt for Christmas by Sandra Dallas Read Free Book Online Page B

continued.
    â€”and asked the Lord to be with you in this noble cause. I myself prayed that the cause would soon conclude & I think others did, too, for many men from the country are away. Luzena said she had prayed for peace & a good dinner and was rewarded by half. I hope that you, too, had a Christmas feast.
    Have a care for your safety, dear husband, & remember your little family at home that loves you & prays for you.
    Your Affectionate Wife
    Eliza A. Spooner
    As she folded the letter to form its own envelope, she saw a damp spot on the paper and told herself it was a drop of water spilled at supper.

 
    CHAPTER THREE
    January 27, 1865
    Snow had begun to fall, and Eliza tried to hurry Sabra by slapping the reins, but after a few quick steps, the old horse settled back into a walk. Wrapped in robes with her feet resting on a hot brick, Eliza was warm, even cozy, as she rode across the white road in the cutter, but she worried that the snow would make the drive home difficult. It couldn’t be helped, she told herself. Sabra would go no faster, so Eliza nestled into the wool covers and looked out over the white landscape so like the one the day that she and Will had moved into the log house. There weren’t many log houses. Most settlers lived in soddies, because trees were scarce. But Will had found land with a grove of trees on it, so they had built their second home out of logs, and the day they moved in, they were as proud of the house as if it had been a clapboard mansion. That memory warmed her, too.
    The two of them along with the children had carried furniture and bedding, pots and kettles, books and china plates and silver teaspoons from the soddy into the new house. While Will placed the bed, the table and chairs, the clock they had brought from Ohio, Eliza arranged her pretty things—the silver teapot on a shelf in front of the white china platter with the blue feather edge. She put the tin candlesticks on the shelf, too, then changed her mind and set them on the table. She went outside and picked a bouquet of dried weeds and put them in her yelloware pitcher, which had been broken and mended with wire, and set the vase between the candlesticks. The arrangement was as pretty a picture as Eliza had ever seen.
    When all was arranged to her satisfaction, Eliza made up the bed with homespun sheets and pillow slips edged with her own tatting, the blanket and quilts, then spread the prized Sunshine and Rain quilt over them. The quilt was taken out only on special occasions. It was her own design—she had named it, too—and she had made it for Will as a wedding present. With its indigo squares and red binding, it looked almost like a flag against the white stripes of chinking between the logs of the wall.
    The Sunshine and Rain quilt was put away, but she would bring it out when Will came home, Eliza thought now. And they would hang his flag quilt on the wall.
    The cabin wasn’t large, but it was four times the size of the soddy, and on that first night Luzena and Davy had played hide-and-seek in the great open space that served as kitchen, dining room, parlor, and bedroom for Eliza and Will. They had eaten supper, not much of a supper, just mush and milk, because Eliza had been too busy to prepare more, then had sat in front of the fire cracking black walnuts with a hammer and picking out the nutmeats. Luzena had fallen asleep in Eliza’s lap, and Will had carried her up the ladder to the loft where she and Davy were to sleep. The boy had followed, remarking that the loft was as big as the soddy they had left.
    They were tired and should have gone to bed, too, but Will and Eliza sat in the firelight, smiling at each other across the table, not having to say out loud how happy they were, for each knew the other was thinking just that.
    â€œNo wife ever had such a good provider,” Eliza said at last.
    â€œAnd no husband such a faithful wife.” He reached across the table for her