Sadie slipped quietly inside the side door of the Meeting House and stood silently looking around. She preferred to observe. Over the years, she had learned much by just looking, noticing nuances, expressions, even gestures that were so often lost in the hub-bub of participation. Sadie had gotten quite good at seeing what everyone saw, and what no one took note of.
Three long tables were set up side by side in the main hall, a small group of quilters gathered at each. Mattie Edwards was directing new quilters on pin-basting the quilt tops they had pieced last week. A hands-on demonstration of quick machine quilting would follow, and with a bit of luck, they'd have a few finished quilts to present to the local shelter. Sadie smiled at the earnest expressions, remembering how eagerly she had soaked up every inch of information when she was first learning to quilt. She was pleased but not surprised to see the General among the group. He usually carried in Mattie's machine and then retreated to a card game in the corner.
Tonight, he lingered, bitten by the quilting bee.
A peal of laughter erupted from the other tables. Ann Emerson was bubbling. She had introduced her friend Estelle to all the quilters gathered, and launched into her most recent rendition of the day Estelle had returned to town. More than a few tongues had been wagging over Estelle's re-appearance. She had so shocked old Ben that he'd nearly dumped two full buckets of water on himself. As always, the village grapevine had exaggerated events, and rumors were running wild. Still, Sadie noticed a faint blush on Estelle's face at the mention of Ben's name, and she thought back to an early summer day nearly twenty years past.
The meadow was in bloom.
Sadie was gathering yarrow for dye. Tiny yellow flower clusters swayed with the breeze on thread-thin stems, mesmerizing her. Her bag was nearly full, and she sat down, closing her eyes and letting the sun soak into her bones. The wind rustled the 'wilds' as she called them, carrying the scent of meadow sage and even a little of the lavender that Pearl had planted past the broken down blacksmith's shop behind Ben and Riley's house. That was when she heard the voice.
"Why?", it demanded. There was pain in that voice. Freshly cut pain that wouldn't be soothed or bandaged by anything but time. Sadie knew that pain, knew how deeply the hurt could go.
"Why?", the voice asked again, this time almost pleading. Another voice answered, deeper, less distinct, and though she couldn't hear it clearly, Sadie knew who was speaking. A short, sharp slap shattered the silent meadow, followed by a muffled sob and one set of fading footsteps.
Sadie opened her eyes. The meadow surrounded her, but in her mind she could see Ben standing, shaken, in the broken shadow of the blacksmith's shop. He fought to keep his breathing steady, fought against the tears smarting in his eyes, and just stood, heart pounding, clenching and unclenching his fists.
"Go after her."
"Go after her", Sadie whispered to the breeze, but Ben didn't move. He stood rooted in that shady spot behind the blacksmith shop until the wind dried his eyes and heart and breath were calm.
"Go after her." Sadie pushed the thought out as hard as she could. But Ben didn't go. He only glanced out at the meadow, then turned and walked quickly back to the house.
Sadie never saw who had slapped Ben that day, but she knew who it was, and never told a soul. The side door of the Meeting House opened behind her, and she stepped a bit to the side, out of the way. Ben and Riley paused for a moment, letting their eyes adjust to the dim light in the hall. They had come to play cards.
"Hello, Riley...Ben," Sadie smiled, handing her portable machine to the latter. "Would you mind carrying this on in for me?" The two brothers nodded in greeting, and Riley went straight to the game while Ben waited a moment for Sadie. "Go on," Sadie smiled softly, "I'll be just a minute. Set it on the table by Ann Emerson there."
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