Flynn checked the work on both sides of him, and his work was every bit as nice as theirs. “The club won’t find a bit of a problem with what I’m doing, and when I get my ten squares done, I’m gone.”

“Guess that decides that, then.” April didn’t even look up from her work. “But don’t pout when we get done before you do.”

“Oh, honey.” Flynn cut his chocolate-brown eyes toward her. “It will be you two who are still working when I leave this shed.”

“The race is on.” Nessa giggled. “Only it’s between you two, not me. I love this work, so I intend to take my time and enjoy it.”

“Well, would you look at this?” Flynn was amazed at the fabric square he had started to sew around.

“What? Did the poor baby poke his finger again?” April asked.

“Nope, but I did figure out part of the reason why this crazy-looking quilt is so important, and why there seems to be no rhyme or reason to the pattern. Like Nessa noticed earlier, Nanny Lucy’s quilts were all so intricate, but this one is not. So do you wanna know?” Flynn grinned.

“Of course we do!” Nessa said, and then she sucked in air. “I know what you’re talking about. I see it now.”

“Well, clue me in,” April said.

“Pay real close attention to your ten squares,” Nessa told her. “What does that piece you are sewing around right now remind you of?”

April frowned and studied the square for a moment, then smiled. “Well, how about that? This is a piece from the dress Nanny Lucy made for me to wear on the first day of kindergarten. I wouldn’t even remember it, but she showed me a picture of me wearing it once when I was a little girl.”

“And this”—Flynn pointed to the portion he was working on—“is scraps from the shirt she made for me when I was about that same age. She used to sew a few shirts for me every summer while I was here, and Mama would make me save my new ones for the first days of school.”

Nessa touched the piece she was sewing. “Yep, and I’m looking at the scrap from a dress she made for me about that same time, and if you look across the whole quilt, I betcha every square is cut from a remnant of something she made for us. This isn’t just a haphazard thing she threw together, it’s a memory quilt. I’m amazed that she has kept scraps all these years. Do you think she made out her will and then this quilt because she knew she was going to die?”

“Who knows about Nanny Lucy,” April said. “She only talked to me when she was mad, and that seemed to be most of the time.”