She had her circle completed in no time. Loosening the hoop, she withdrew her fabric and replaced it with a fresh square from her bag. Marianne shifted on her seat, and he glanced her way. She was leaning forward to watch Greta work, too. It wasn’t long before Greta noticed.
“Do you cross-stitch?”
Toby touched his chest. “Me? Sure.”
A smile played at the corner of her mouth. “It’s an unusual pastime for a man.”
“I would call it a learning experience. I remember my first as if it were yesterday.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Really?”
“He’s doesn’t know how,” Marianne whispered.
“That’s what you think, little sister. Grandmother taught me to do it when I was your age.”
He could see Marianne didn’t believe him. He had trouble keeping a straight face. “It’s true. She made me sit in the corner and fill her hoop with one phrase over and over again. Her hoop was much bigger than yours, Greta.”
“And what was that phrase?” Greta asked.
“I will not tell a lie. I will not tell a lie. I will not tell a lie. It took me four hours to finish it to her satisfaction. The lesson stuck.”
Greta chuckled. “I think I would like to meet your grandmother.”
“She lives with her widowed sister near Bird-in-Hand. You can ask her about the story. She’ll tell you it’s true.”
“I don’t doubt you, but I was actually asking Marianne if she knew how to cross-stitch?”
“Do you?” He looked at his sister.
She shook her head.
“I’m sure Greta can show you how it’s done.”
“I’d be delighted. It’s easy. These are panels that will go down the center of a quilt my sisters and I are stitching.”
“Switch places with me.” He rose and let his sister slide across the seat to sit beside Greta. She was soon engrossed in Greta’s instructions, leaving him free to watch both of them.
Within a few minutes, Marianne had the hoop and the needle and thread on her lap. “What if I make a mistake? I don’t want to ruin it.”
“We all make mistakes. It would be a shame not to learn something new because you’re afraid you won’t get it right. Besides, you will not ruin it. I can easily undo the stitches.”
Marianne’s efforts were tentative at first, but under Greta’s gentle guidance, she soon grew more confident. She was actually talking, even if her voice was still a hoarse whisper. Toby was surprised when the driver turned off the highway into the parking lot of a small diner. Were they in Van Wert already? An hour had gone by very quickly.
Arles turned to address his passengers. “I’d like everyone to be back in the van in thirty minutes. That should give us all plenty of time to eat and walk about a little. Mr. Barkman, how are you doing?”
“Well enough. I don’t imagine the food will be good at a place like this.”
“It’s got to be better than the hospital food,” Toby said as he slipped into his coat.
The driver got out and came around to open the door. The Coblentz family piled out quickly. Morris stayed where he was so Toby got out next and held out his hand for his sister. She took it and stepped carefully onto the pavement. He was worried that this outing would be too much for her, but she seemed to be doing okay.
He moved back to let Greta out. She was about to step down when her uncle rose. His cane slid to the side between her feet. Greta tripped and fell headlong out of the van. Toby lunged to catch her.
Finding herself in Toby’s arms took Greta’s breath away. Strong and rock steady, he held her as if she weighed nothing at all. She gripped his shoulders to get her feet under her. The feel of his firm muscles beneath her fingers sent a rush of excitement through her veins. It tightened her chest and made it hard to breathe. She licked her suddenly dry lips as she looked up at him.
Electricity seemed to shimmer between them like the glow of distant lightning. His dark brown eyes widened in surprise. Did he feel it, too? She couldn’t tear her gaze away from his expressive face.
“Are you all right?” Marianne asked.
The child’s whispery voice brought Greta back to the present. What was wrong with her? No man had ever had this effect on her.
She slowly withdrew from Toby’s embrace. His cheeks blossomed with a dull red color. Was it her imagination, or was he reluctant to let her go?
He spoke to Morris. “You must be more careful.”
Morris pushed out of his seat. “It was an accident. What you want me to say?”
After stepping down from the van, he looked at the people who stood staring at him. He straightened and his frown deepened. “I said it was an accident.”
“I’m fine, Onkel. Do not you worry yourself about it,” Greta said quietly.
“He should say he’s sorry,” Marianne muttered.
“And your parents should teach you not to disrespect your elders,” Morris grumbled.
Tears welled up in Marianne’s eyes, and she pressed her face against Toby’s side.
“Why she crying? What did I say?” Morris demanded. Everyone was still clustered around the side of the van.
Toby’s face reflected his deep pain as he gazed at his sister. “Our parents were killed in a fire a few months ago.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. How was I to know? My doctor said I have to walk.” Morris shouldered his way through the onlookers and began walking along the sidewalk in front of the restaurant.
“I should go with him in case he has trouble,” Greta said.
“Do you want me to stay with you?” Toby offered.
She shook her head. “I’m sure Marianne would like a soda or a cup of tea.”
“All right. Can I order anything for you?”
“I would dearly love a cup of coffee.”
Greta took a seat on the bench out front where she could keep an eye on Morris. It was growing colder. A bank of gray clouds shut out the sun in the west. She buttoned the top buttons of her coat and pulled on her gloves. She was surprised when Marianne sat down beside her.
“Don’t you want to go inside?” Greta asked.
“Nee, people stare at me.” Her voice was weaker than before. Greta could see how tired she was.
“In that case, please join me. I’m not really hungry, but I may have some dessert when my uncle is finished with his walk.”
She looked around for Toby and saw him waiting beside the door with his hands shoved in his coat pockets. She motioned toward the diner with her head. He nodded his understanding. She would watch over Marianne while he went in.
“What sorts of desserts do you like, Marianne?”
“Ice cream and pie. I hear a kitten. There it is.” Marianne pointed toward Morris.
A small calico