Elm Creek Quilts [09] Circle of Quilters Read Online Free

simply wanted one she could keep.
    Harriet’s quilt began to consume more and more of Maggie’s life. She sketched blocks in the morning before leaving for Ocean View Hills. She sewed by hand with the Courtyard Quilters on her lunch hour. After work she made templates, or read books about the mill girls of Lowell, or tracked down leads at the library, longingto know more of Harriet Findley Birch’s story. Her work friends complained that they never saw her anymore, so she made time for them when she could. They did not understand her new fascination and tentatively suggested she start dating again. “I don’t have time,” she told them.
    And then came a day she had long dreaded: the day she finished sketching the one hundredth sampler block.
    She called the woman from the garage sale and arranged to meet her. She carefully typed up everything she had learned about the quilt, including her unconfirmed theories about the life of Harriet Findley Birch. The woman’s eyes lit up when she saw the folded bundle in Maggie’s arms. “I was hoping you would bring it by to show me after you restored it,” she exclaimed, holding her front door open and ushering Maggie inside.
    “I didn’t bring it just to show you,” said Maggie. “It’s worth much more than I paid for it and I think in all fairness I should return it to you. Or, if you’re willing, I would be very grateful if you would allow me to keep the quilt and pay you the difference.”
    “Don’t be silly,” said the woman. “It sat in my garage for all those years and I did nothing with it. Thank goodness you rescued it before it was nothing more than a rag.”
    “But …” Maggie hesitated. “You could probably sell it for much more than what I paid you.”
    “Well, certainly,
now
. Thanks to you. You’re a sweet girl, but you don’t owe me anything for this quilt. You bought it fair and square, and if you decide to sell it for a profit, then more power to you.”
    Grateful, Maggie told the woman everything she had learned about the quilt and felt herself at ease for the first time in months. But the feeling did not last. The next day she phoned Jason Birch and offered the quilt to him, the only descendant of Harriet Findley Birch she had been able to locate.
    “That would be awesome,” Jason Birch replied. “I’d love to have that quilt.”
    “Okay,” said Maggie, heart sinking. “Should I send it to you, or would you prefer to pick it up? I would hate to risk losing it in the mail—my heart nearly stops just thinking about it. But if the drive is too inconvenient, I could insure the package for a lot of money to encourage them to keep track of it.”
    “When you put it like that …” Jason hesitated. “I should at least reimburse you for your expenses.”
    “I bought it for five dollars at a garage sale.”
    “What? Five bucks? In that case, keep it.”
    Maggie was tempted to thank him and hang up, but she couldn’t. She could not let him turn down her offer because he believed the quilt was an old rag. “I had the quilt cleaned by an expert and I know it’s worth much more than what I paid for it. I could have it appraised if you like.”
    “No. You know what? It’s not like my family
lost
Harriet’s quilt. One of us chose to sell it, and that choice has consequences. You should keep it. It’s obviously important to you. I’ll make you a deal: You keep the quilt, but let me know anything you learn about my great-grandmother.”
    “I’ll do that,” Maggie promised, grateful.
    Now that Harriet Findley Birch’s quilt was truly hers, the original impetus for sewing her replica was gone, but Maggie enjoyed her project too much to abandon it. Every week she stitched a few more blocks; every Saturday she met with the regulars at the quilt shop to show off her progress. A few of them asked whether she’d mind if they tried their hand at a few of the patterns. Flattered, Maggie agreed to share her drawings with them. She had