“Not a single hymn on the list,” Nessa said as she hit the icon to start the music. “I think you’ll like this first one.”

The first notes of a guitar were joined by fiddle music, and then Travis Tritt started singing “I’m Gonna Be Somebody.”

Flynn sang with Travis that someday he was going to break the chains and be somebody. “You’re right,” he said when the song ended, “music helps, and I believe that song was written just for me.”

“This next one is for April,” Nessa said.

April smiled when Travis started singing “Where Corn Don’t Grow.” The song talked about leaving home and going somewhere where corn doesn’t grow. “I did feel I could find the answer where corn didn’t grow, or in my case, anywhere but Blossom, Texas.”

“And this one is for all of us.” Nessa stopped sewing and wiped a tear from her eye when Chris Stapleton began singing “Broken Halos.” The words talked about not going to look for answers because they belonged to the by-and-by.

By the time the song ended, all three of them had laid their needles to the side as tears welled, and then soft piano music began and those tears began to flow as Vince Gill sang “Go Rest High on That Mountain.”

“We should have played this at her funeral,” Flynn said. “It’s Nanny Lucy from beginning to end. Like the words say, she wasn’t afraid to face the devil, and she was no stranger to a lot of pain.”

“I listened to this on the day she was buried,” April said. “Her life on earth was troubled. I hope she’s found the peace in eternity that we’ve found while we’ve been working on this quilt.”

“Me too.” Nessa nodded.

“Yes.” Flynn’s voice had become hoarse.

They listened to several more songs while they kept sewing, and then Flynn finished his last stitch, tied it off, stuck the needle he had been using in a spool of thread, and held up both hands.

“This one is for all of us, and it’s not as sad as some of the others,” Nessa said. “It’s ‘Storms Never Last.’ We need to remember that as we go on with life.”

April put the last stitch in her part of the quilt. “All done, and I never want to quilt again. How you can enjoy this is beyond me, Nessa.”

“Everything is peaceful when I quilt.” Nessa neatly folded the fabric to make a perfect ninety-degree angle, pinned it, and blind-stitched the last few inches of each side and then the corners. “It seems like my troubles and worries just fade away.”