Hummingbird Lake Page 0,36

don’t think—”

Ali held up her hand, palm out. “Let me finish. Cam’s mother was a Cavanaugh. Lori has as much claim to the box as my children. Sarah, there are a few coins in the trunk. My father believes they could be quite valuable.”

“College tuition,” Sage pointed out, knowing how her friend worried about paying for Lori’s education.

“This is cool, Sarah.” Nic folded her arms and looked pleased. “At last, child support from Cam.”

“I don’t know,” Sarah replied, her teeth tugging at her bottom lip. A cry sounded from upstairs, and as Nic left to check on her girls, Sarah said to Ali, “The trunk came to you. Well, to your dad.”

“Fine. Then it’s ours to give away. We want to give it to Lori. End of discussion.”

“But—”

“Argue later, Sarah dear,” Celeste said. “Let’s get on to quilt business, shall we?”

Nic returned carrying a sleepy-eyed, whimpering twin rooting at her breast. As she settled down to nurse her little Cari, Sage followed Celeste’s lead and studied the arrangement of blocks on the worktable. “I like the balance here. You all have done a good job with the design. And I think my own little contribution will fit in quite nicely.”

She reached into her tote bag and pulled out her stack of finished squares. She placed the twelve-by-twelve-inch squares where her artist’s eye said they fit best with the overall design. Upon seeing them, Ali said, “Oh, Sage.”

Sarah looked and said, “Wow. These are gorgeous. Absolutely gorgeous.”

In her blocks, Sage had used bits of lace, beading, and bows to create bouquets of flowers. Each of the five squares was different; all were intricately detailed. After studying them a moment, Sarah added, “You are so talented, Sage. Now I’m really stressed out.”

“Why?”

“Because the pressure is on. I said I’d do the piecing on this one, since it’s my turn. And now that I’ve seen your squares, I think we possibly could win. But I’m gonna have to sew a straight line. Arrgh!” Sarah grimaced and covered her face with her hands.

Her friends laughed, and Ali reached out to pat her hand. “It’ll be okay, Sarah. The contest entry is just for fun.”

“Don’t speak so fast, Alison,” Celeste said. “If we’re entering the art show, we darn well want a blue ribbon!”

“Here, here,” Sage added. “I second that.”

Nic looked up from her nursing child. “I knew Sage was competitive, but you, Celeste?”

“I am a proponent of always doing one’s best,” Celeste replied, primly lacing her fingers.

The others all laughed, and then the conversation shifted to plans for the next project. Sage did enjoy the comradery, but she was simply too tired to participate in the conversations with much enthusiasm. Subtly she watched the clock. Staying an hour should be long enough to fulfill her obligation, shouldn’t it?

She was demonstrating her beading technique to Nic and paying minimal attention when Ali steered the conversation toward some charity work she did in Denver. It wasn’t until she heard her own name that she truly tuned in. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I’m finalizing activities for the kids’ cancer camp at Angel’s Rest in June. I need to submit the detailed plan to the insurance company for underwriting, and I’d like to add a second art program. Can I count on you to teach two art classes, Sage?”

“Art classes?” Sage repeated.

“Yes.” Ali’s smile dimmed a bit. “Remember, we talked about it right before Christmas?”

Sage went cold. “I didn’t say I’d teach a class.”

Obviously confused, Ali frowned. “Um, we did discuss it. You didn’t tell me no.”

Art classes to children? Teaching children? Sick children? Pediatric cancer patients? Everything inside Sage rebelled at the thought, and she snapped. “I certainly didn’t tell you yes!”

That shut the conversation off abruptly. Nic, Sarah, and Ali appeared shocked and disapproving. Celeste’s brow wrinkled in worry. Their reactions only annoyed Sage further. Couldn’t they simply be her friends and leave her be?

With her defenses weakened by exhaustion, old fears and frustrations roared forth, and Sage lost her temper. “Excuse me, but I never committed to anything where your cancer camp program is concerned, and it’s wrong of you to assume I’ll go blithely along with the idea. You are my friend—not my mother, my doctor, my employer, or my priest. You don’t get to tell me how I spend my time.”

Ali drew back as if Sage had hit her. Sarah said, “Now, wait a minute—”

“No! You wait a minute.” Sage surged to her feet. Her friends had crossed the line. Anger sharpened