Murder, Simply Stitched: An Amish Quilt Shop Mystery by Isabella Alan Read Free Book Online Page A

“
Nee,
I can carry it myself. Amish women are used to carrying their own weight. I’ve carried baskets twice as heavy as this before.” Her smile took the bite out of her words.
    “At least I could carry the cookbook,” I said with a smile.
    Her smile wavered. “
Nee.
No one touches my cookbook.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “There are too many in this county who want my canning recipes.”
    “Oh,” I said. “You don’t have to worry about me taking your recipes.”
    She laughed. “You are awfully serious for an
Englischer
.
We’ve been looking for you. Your quilts are about to go up on the block.”
    I stepped back. “The bids are still going on? I thought with what happened to Wanda—”
    Tabitha waved away my concern. “Phweet. That was an accident. We can’t stop the auction.”
    “But the police—”
    “
Ya.
The police are still here and asking their questions, but most of the tourists don’t even know anything is amiss.” She placed her hands on her wide hips. “Now, stop standing there with your mouth hanging open. You have to be there when your quilts come up on the block or they will be pulled. We don’t want that to happen. They will catch a
gut
price for you and for my son.”
    “Pulled?” My eyes widened. “I got to run.”
    “That’s what I have been trying to tell you.” She shook her head. “Now, go.”
    “Thank you,” I called over my shoulder as I made a dash for the auction barn.
    Luckily, the three quilts I submitted to the block that morning were already in the main auction barn. They had been on display there all day, so visitors could preview them before bids opened. Either my aunt or a member of my quilting circle made each one. I knew that no one at the auction, English or Amish, could fault the quality of the work.
    Inside the barn, Linus had the auction buzzing as he accepted bids for two dairy calves in the open dirt pen below the platform. The horses and cows were auctioned off from the pen, and the platform was where crafts, household goods, and furniture went up on the auction block.
    An elderly Amish man in a straw hat held up his hand. “Seven hundred!”
    “There’re seven hundred! We can do better than that folks. Two dairy calves for the price of one. This is a deal,” Linus shouted. “Do I have another bid?”
    A younger man, who stood next to me, wiped a trail of sweat from his cheek with a handkerchief. “Eight hundred!”
    “There’s eight! Eight from Zeke King. Do I have eight fifty?” Linus pointed at the older man.
    The older man narrowed his eyes. “Nine hundred!”
    An Amish teen continued to lead the two calves at a very slow pace around the dirt-filled ring. He kept the two animals close together, so their sides touched.
    Zeke whispered in Pennsylvania Dutch to a friend standing beside him.
    “To you Zeke,” Linus cried.
    “Nine fifty,” Zeke said.
    “Nine fifty. We have nine fifty. Two dairy calves for the price of one. Great addition to an existing herd or if you want to start your own. Holsteins with the sweetest milk you can find anywhere.”
    The older man shook his head and dropped from the bidding.
    “Two Holstein calves go to Zeke King for nine fifty. Zeke come see the cashier in the front.”
    Zeke shoved his handkerchief into the back pocket of his plain trousers and grinned at his friend before parting the crowd on his way to the cashier.
    Behind the commotion, two of the young men who worked at the auction house moved the heavy quilts to the stage area while a third boy looked on. One, a tall Amish boy, climbed a stepladder and clipped a quilt on clothespins hanging from a metal cable. The second young man, who held the bottom edge of the quilt off of the dusty stage as the first pinned, was English and dressed in all black.
    I appreciated the care the boys took with the quilt. It was one of my aunt’s and an example of her immeasurable talent. When the boys finished, the red, purple, and navy