Page 23 of Stealing Kisses

Karen Clark

I’m growing on her!

Boy howdy, if that thought didn’t put a skip in Teddy’s step as he climbed from Baylin’s truck to deliver her quilt to the guild ladies in town.

She’d hesitated after breakfast Wednesday morning, resisting when he’d offered to drive her quilt into town so she could begin working on the gazillion cookies she planned on baking and decorating over the next two days.

Teddy had persisted.

He’d also convinced her to decorate one out of every three cookies, packaging two unfrosted cookies behind a fancy iced one because, truly, didn’t everyone like plain shortbreads best?

If Baylin didn’t make a few allowances, she’d never get to everything she intended to get done. She’d never have a free minute, never find time to relax, take an evening off, perhapseven pause for a full day…maybe for a baseball game or a road trip or something.

Baylin might notlikehim, not in the way he’d fallen for her, but she would learn to stop and smell the roses a little before he headed out. On that score, Teddy wouldn’t take no for an answer.

She worked too hard, did too much. If she didn’t slow down a little, life was going to pass her by. Then somewhere down the road, she’d regret not being present on her own journey, not enjoying it more along the way. But by then it would be too late. Teddy couldn’t imagine anything worse than that amazing woman settling for mere contentment. She deserved a life that balanced the farm she loved and the chores she excelled at doing, with time to rest and relax and laugh, a life bursting with joy and happiness…one without regrets.

“Who are you?” a crotchety older woman snapped at Teddy the moment he walked into the church’s fellowship hall. “And why do you have Baylin’s quilt?” she barked.

“Mrs. Jones?” Teddy asked, afraid the lady would answeryes.

“Thank the good Lord, no,” she answered with a tone of haughty disdain. “Do I look like a do-gooder up in everyone’s business?”

Teddy had no answer.

“That’sexactlywhat you look like, Dottie,” another elderly woman offered, entering the room from the kitchen along the back wall. “And you sound like it, too,” she added. “I’m Mrs. Jones,” she continued, smiling kindly in Teddy’s direction. “Call me Miss Sadie. You ignore Dot— Judge Roberts.”

“The appliqué genius,” Teddy interjected, remembering what Baylin had told him about the talented quilters in the Green Hills area.

“Let’s keep that to ourselves,” Miss Sadie whispered. “She woke up on the wrong side of the bed…back in 1952, and she hasn’t snapped out of ityet.” She flashed a sly wink at Teddy. “Now, let’s see this quilt. Baylin’s worked on it for months.”

“That’s how she works on everything she does,” Teddy agreed, unfolding the quilt, careful that it didn’t touch the floor.

“Quite true, young man.” Miss Sadie brought her palms together, like prayer hands at her heart, as she leaned forward to examine Baylin’s work. “Ooh,” she gasped. “It’s incredible,” she praised. “Dottie, come look,” she called out without taking her eyes from the quilt. “She managed at least a dozen stitches per inch…amazing.”

“And it’s her first quilt to enter in a contest,” Teddy added, just to make sure these ladies realizedhowamazing it —she— was.

“Yes,” Miss Sadie said. She glanced up at Teddy with a gleam in her eye. “And it’s very kind of you to bring her quilt in for judging. It’s not like Baylin to delegate; I can only imagine how many irons she must be juggling in the fire today.”

The way Miss Sadieoohedandahhedover Baylin’s quilt endeared the sweeter of the two ladies to Teddy. When she blended her idioms in Baylin’s defense, Teddy fought the urge to give her a big ol’ bear hug.

For propriety’s sake, he settled with giving her a big ol’ smile instead, and he offered to help the women hang the quilts they were organizing when he arrived.

A few other volunteers cycled through, but for the most part, Teddy assisted Miss Sadie and Judge Roberts. The ladies kept him very busy, and the time passed in the blink of an eye…

They directed Teddy to position heavy metal bases for the pipe-and-drape system they’d rented from a company in Dallas to serve as frames for hanging the quilts. Teddy couldn’t believethe delivery crew had dropped off the parts without lending a hand to set up.

Then Miss Sadie requested all hands on deck, and everyone worked together to assemble the uprights and drapery bars. Luckily, they had enough ladders on hand to work in pairs hanging the black event drapes. When they’d finished that step, Miss Sadie, Judge Roberts, and the other guild committee members brought out the quilts for display.

Stepping off the ladder after hanging the final quilt three hours later, Teddy took a moment to marvel at the art exhibit they’d created.

Baylin hadn’t exaggerated when she said the local quilters were talented artists. The variety of quilt styles, the intricate patterns, the pairings of fabric colors and prints, and the workmanship displayed astounded Teddy.

Baylin’s was by far the prettiest, but there were some remarkable quilts to behold everywhere he looked.

“Are all quilt shows so magnificent?” he wondered aloud.

“Oh yes,” Miss Sadie answered; at the exact same moment Judge Roberts mumbled, “Not by a long shot.”

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