Sister's Choice

To all those quilt makers

who use their considerable needlework talents to help others, particularly those who are working so hard to Quilt for a Cure.

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 32

CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 34

CHAPTER 35

CHAPTER 36

EPILOGUE

When novels become alive for readers, new and interesting ideas can develop. One such idea was suggested to me by Pam Brown of Muscatine, Iowa, at a quilt-show book signing. So thanks to Pam, who wasn’t shy about talking to me, for sending my own imagination in a brand-new and fruitful direction. Thanks, too, to the Brainstormers, Jasmine, Karen, Connie and Diane, for their energy and creativity.

Two sisters answered the call for a Sister’s Choice quilt for this cover, one the quilt maker, one the recipient. Thanks to Kathy Rankin and Jeanne Prue for sharing their quilt. How appropriate that Jeanne’s quilt, made to celebrate Kathy’s brand-new master’s degree, would inspire the cover art on a novel about the love between sisters.

Most of the time Kendra Taylor found that spending time with her nieces helped fill an empty space inside her. When Alison or Hannah wrapped their chubby arms around her neck or planted a sloppy kiss on her cheek, her primary feeling was gratitude that she and their mother, her younger sister, had finally built a bridge across the abyss of their dysfunctional childhood.

But “most of the time” also meant there were moments, like this one, when Kendra found herself wishing for more than a day, or even a week, when she and her husband, Isaac, could enjoy the high-voltage electricity of children in their lives. Now, as she watched four-year-old Alison shove a red-and-white Santa Claus hat over her copper Orphan Annie curls, she felt a pang she knew too well.

“They’re something, aren’t they?”

She turned at her husband’s voice, and saw that Isaac had moved up beside her and was smiling at the little girls, who had woven their way into the crowd of onlookers enjoying the National Christmas Tree on the Ellipse in Washington, D.C. In the background, the White House stood sentinel, as if to discourage snowflake intruders, but the air was chill and promising. Even the most powerful family in the nation might not be able to stop a light dusting later that evening.

“They are that,” Kendra said, over the warbling of a high-school ensemble faithfully recounting “The Night Before Christmas” for everybody’s enjoyment. “The girls know how to get what they want.”

Without shoving or asking for favors, the girls had wormed themselves into front-row positions. Hannah, nearly eight, was instructing her sister on how close she was allowed, but Jamie, their mother, stood two rows behind, near enough to make a lunge in case the ebullient Alison decided to ignore her. There were model trains to tempt any little girl, and fifty additional trees, one for every state. Jamie was taking no chances.

“It’s been a great visit,” Isaac said.

Kendra linked arms with him and for just a moment rested her head against his shoulder. Jamie’s arrival had been a surprise. They hadn’t seen her since Labor Day, when she and her daughters had flown in to present the plans Jamie had drawn up for a small guest cabin on the property Kendra and Isaac owned in the Shenandoah Valley. Then, on the past Friday, after Kendra had casually mentioned on the phone that she and Isaac had nothing going on that weekend, Jamie and the girls had flown in to surprise them. Since they were scheduled to return in two weeks—on Christmas Eve—this additional trip was puzzling.

To their left, two laughing young couples were shouting down the seconds until five o’clock, when 75,000 lights would glow among the branches. Kendra watched Alison clap her hands as the lights finally came on and the magnificent blue spruce was magically transformed.

“I hate to see them leave, even though they’ll be coming right back,” Kendra said.

“Jamie’s going to be looking for an internship as soon as she finishes her master’s. Has she said where she plans to settle? Could this visit have anything to do with job hunting?”

“She’s been surprisingly evasive.”

Isaac glanced down at her. “What do you think that means?”

“Maybe she knows I’ll disapprove?”

Isaac wasn’t classically handsome, but he was easy to look at, tall and broad shouldered, hair and eyes a warm golden-brown, and these days wearing an expression of contentment that softened his strong features. Now he sent her the ghost of a smile as he touched her chin with a gloved finger.

“You don’t think Jamie’s beyond needing your approval, K.C.?”

When Isaac looked at her sister, Kendra knew he saw the redesigned Jamie, the only one he’d ever known. Sometimes she envied him that view. Yes, the Jamie she saw was at least partly that responsible adult, the excellent mother and fabulous cook, the talented student architect, the forthright young woman who never made self-serving excuses for wandering aimlessly, dangerously, through her young adulthood. This mature Jamie freely admitted to her failures and counseled others to avoid the same traps that had snared her. She was wise, forgiving and hungry to make amends.