Chapter 10 #2
The driver took the right fork, crossing the narrow bridge over Elm Creek.
Usually the rushing waters were so clear Julia could glimpse the smooth, round stones at the bottom, but now the creek was thick with fallen leaves sweeping downstream.
Soon thereafter they emerged from the forest onto the paved driveway crossing the vast wildflower meadow—and there, at last, the gray stone mansion with its tall, white columns and broad, shaded verandah came into view.
Someone behind Julia gasped with delight, someone else sighed contentedly, and others murmured their appreciation.
Four people stood on the verandah where the two stone staircases descended in mirror-image arcs to the curved driveway, and as the shuttle drew closer, Julia recognized Sylvia and her husband, Andrew, and Sarah and Matt.
By the time the two shuttles pulled up alongside the rearing horse fountain, they were waiting on the sidewalk, Sylvia smiling a gracious welcome, Sarah grinning so broadly Julia half expected her to thrust her fists in the air triumphantly.
This autumn edition of quilt camp was as much her victory as it was Julia’s.
“Welcome to Elm Creek Manor,” Sylvia called as they climbed out of the shuttles, shouldering their backpacks or messenger
bags, stretching and moving to work the travel fatigue out of their necks and limbs. As Sarah, Matt, and Andrew assisted the
campers with their luggage, Sylvia came to Julia, arms outstretched. “And a special welcome to you, Julia,” she said, clasping
Julia’s hands, “with heartfelt thanks, on behalf of all of the Elm Creek Quilters.”
“You keep forgetting that you’re the ones doing me a favor,” Julia replied, squeezing Sylvia’s hands. Although the late afternoon
was sunny, the air was cool and brisk, scattering the fallen leaves on the driveway. Julia shivered in her thin cardigan as
she dug into her tote for her jacket, grateful that Lindsay had reminded her to pack for a cooler climate.
Her chill did not go unnoticed. “We must get you inside,” Sylvia admonished fondly, taking Julia’s arm and accompanying her up the nearer staircase.
Sarah and Matt were already leading the other guests across the verandah and through the tall double doors into the grand front foyer.
A single long table was arranged in the center of the black marble floor, where two Elm Creek Quilters Julia had met on previous visits, Gretchen Hartley and Maggie Flynn, awaited them.
As the campers’ hosts introduced themselves, the guests received their room assignments and keys, and with Gretchen’s husband, Joe, joining Sarah, Matt, and Andrew as luggage wranglers, they were escorted up the grand oak staircase to their suites.
Julia was shown to her usual accommodations, the large suite with a four-poster bed covered with a blue-and-red quilt pieced of homespun plaids, and windows overlooking the cornerstone patio.
She had just finished unpacking and was taking in the autumn version of the familiar lovely view from the window when Sylvia
knocked on her open door. “Dinner will be served in the banquet hall at six o’clock,” she said. “Anna will be treating us
to some of her favorite autumnal dishes throughout the week. I trust you and your friends will enjoy them.”
“If Anna’s cooking, I’m certain we will.” Julia was struck by a sudden thought. “What’s the latest on the roof? I expected
to see construction equipment and pallets of shingles scattered all around. Hasn’t the work begun yet? Or are you hiding the
mess around back?”
“Thanks to your generosity, the new roof was finished last week. Just a few days ago, Matt and Andrew finished painting the
attic, so it will be perfectly sound, dry, and tidy when I begin moving all those trunks and cartons back into storage.” Sylvia
winced comically and regarded Julia over the tops of her glasses. “That will be quite a chore. I’m very glad you and your
friends are visiting so I have a perfect excuse to postpone it.”
“Believe me, the pleasure is all mine.”
“Not yours alone,” said Sylvia, smiling. “Well, I should continue my rounds. Postponing organizing the attic is one thing,
postponing dinner quite another. I’ll see you downstairs in the banquet hall soon.”
As soon as Julia finished unpacking, she too made the rounds to make sure that the company of performers and crew were settling in and had everything they needed.
Jason was pleased with the Ethernet connection in his suite near the library and was already typing away on his laptop.
Lindsay was strolling the length of the hall, pausing at the railing to gaze up to the third-floor landing and the high coffered ceiling and to take in the view of the grand front foyer from above.
Nigel was in the library with Sarah, making arrangements for Andrew to drive him in the Elm Creek Quilts minivan to Waterford College early the next morning for a vigorous swim at the rec center.
Olivia and Ellen, whose rooms were on opposite sides of the hallway, were passing from one to another, admiring the views from each other’s windows and the cozy quilts on their beds.
Paige hurried past clad in black tights and a long-sleeved tech shirt, carrying her running shoes.
“I’m going exploring,” she called to Julia as she raced down the stairs. “I’ll be back in time for dinner.”
Assured that everyone was comfortable and happy, Julia returned to her own suite for a quiet, relaxing interlude of yoga before
freshening up and dressing for dinner in comfortable slacks and a cashmere sweater. When she left the room, she found nearly
everyone else heading down to dinner too, chatting and joking. Julia was gratified to hear them complimenting everything they
had seen of the manor so far.
As the company gathered in the banquet hall, Julia was struck by the fond nostalgia she felt whenever she entered the elegant
room where she had made so many happy memories in summers past. Several round tables were set with crisp linens and the unique
Bergstrom china, softly aglow in the light of the chandeliers and candlelit centerpieces. The curtains were pulled back from
the floor-to-ceiling windows on the west wall, where only a faint blur of rose lingered in the deepening blue sky. The grove
of elms, maples, and oaks behind the manor was only a silhouette in the darkness, the bridge over Elm Creek and the red barn
beyond it not visible at all. Julia knew very well where they were, but her friends would not discover them until the morning.
Sylvia awaited her guests just inside the entrance to the banquet hall, and as she greeted them and invited them to be seated, Julia noticed some changes to the decor since her last visit.
The room appeared to have been freshly painted a rich ivory, and beautifully framed enlargements of photos, maps, and other memorabilia from the manor’s history were displayed on the walls alongside several lovely antique quilts.
Julia wondered if the quilt exhibit Summer had curated at Union Hall for the Waterford Historical Society had inspired Sylvia to create a historical exhibit of her own.
No sooner had they taken their seats than the servers brought out their first course, an arugula salad with apples, pecans,
and feta. As the second course was served, a delicious butternut squash soup, Sylvia formally welcomed the company to Elm
Creek Manor and introduced the faculty and staff, who were seated at a table of their own. She then offered her guests a history
of the estate, which had been founded by her great-grandfather Hans Bergstrom, his wife, Anneke, and his sister, Gerda, immigrants
of German and Swedish heritage, in the mid-nineteenth century. The Bergstroms had built the original farmhouse, now the west
wing of the manor, in 1858, so noted on the cornerstone near the former front entrance.
From the earliest days the family had grown crops and planted orchards, but Hans Bergstrom’s greatest ambition had been to
raise horses. “And a family,” Sylvia noted with a smile. “Hans and Anneke had six children, including my grandfather, David,
the eldest.”
As the family grew and prospered, the Bergstroms contributed to civic and social life in the Elm Creek Valley, but as the
nation’s struggle over slavery intensified, their abolitionist activities demanded great discretion. In the antebellum era,
the Bergstrom residence served as a station on the Underground Railroad, a safe haven for enslaved people seeking freedom
in the North. The outbreak of the Civil War disrupted the operation of the Underground Railroad, but the Bergstroms and their
friends continued to serve the cause of freedom and justice, some by enlisting in the Union Army or the United States Colored
Troops, others by working on the home front.
After the war, the Bergstrom horse farm and orchards thrived, reaching the height of its prosperity in the early twentieth century.
“Decades after Elm Creek Farm had become more successful than its immigrant founders could have imagined, my grandfather added the newer, grander wing to the original farmhouse,” Sylvia explained.
“This includes, on the first floor, this banquet hall, the verandah and the new front entrance, the grand foyer and staircase, and the ballroom. You’ll see the ballroom later tonight, and you’ll come to know it quite well beginning tomorrow, for that’s where we hold our quilting classes.
On the second floor, we have a marvelous library, which you’re welcome to browse. ”
“What’s on the third floor?” asked Jason.
“More guest rooms and the children’s playroom, but unless you’d like to volunteer to babysit Sarah and Matt’s toddler twins,
you might want to keep your distance.” As a ripple of laughter rose from the group, Sylvia smiled, reflective. “I often wonder