Quilt Trip: A Southern Quilting Mystery by Elizabeth Craig

almost as sunny as Meadow, thought Beatrice.
    “If you’re determined to break something, go ahead,” Alexandra said with a languid shrug.
    Posy said quickly, “Oh, Dot, I wish you wouldn’t. There’s no reason to get hurt. My husband must have a group out searching for us now. I think it’s better if we just sit tight and wait to be rescued. It’s freezing out there—I know there hasn’t been any melting.”
    “There might not even be bandages here!” said Meadow. Her eyes were agog.
    Dot was already getting to her feet. “Pooh. Let me try it. I don’t have anything else to do. And who knows? Maybe I can get down to the bottom of the driveway.” She reached for her navy blue puffy coat. “Are y’all coming out to cheer me on?”
    “I’ve no desire to watch you break your neck,” Winnie said.
    “I’m planning on giving myself a manicure with polish I found in the upstairs bathroom,” Alexandra said without looking at them.
    Colton said, “I highly recommend that you not attempt walking down that icy driveway, Dot.” But he was already carefully putting his long wool overcoat on. Meadow, Posy, and Beatrice followed Dot outside. Miss Sissy brought up the rear, muttering, “Foolishness!”
    The small group stood on the covered porch, shivering as Dot carefully made her way down the wooden stairs, slipping several times and tightening her grip on the underside of the railing, since the banister was also covered with a sheet of ice.
    “One foot in front of the other,” Dot said slowly. Her tongue was stuck out in concentration.
    They watched as she scooted past the parked cars.With both arms held straight out from her body for balance, Dot slowly put a foot down where the driveway’s steep slope started. And it flew out from under her.
    Dot slammed to the icy surface, to the gasps of the group behind her.
    “Dot! Are you okay? Dot!” called Meadow.
    Dot slowly and experimentally moved her arms and legs until she winced. “I’ve messed up my right ankle,” she said in exasperation.
    Beatrice carefully stepped out onto the ice and promptly fell to one knee.
    “Beatrice!” Posy gasped.
    “I’m all right,” said Beatrice, trying to sound positive instead of positively grouchy. She surveyed the situation. “I think I’ll scoot over to you on my rump, Dot. If I stand up, I’ll just fall over again. Even if I
did
manage to walk over to you, I might make us both fall down when I tried to give you a hand.”
    “Won’t you end up sopping wet from the ice?” asked Meadow.
    “Maybe a little damp. I don’t know. But it’s better than falling on the hard ice. Besides, I’m getting heartily sick of these clothes. I’m on the point of rooting through Muriel’s clothes for something to borrow. Dot, how’s that ankle? Is it swelling up?” Beatrice scooted toward her.
    Dot peered at her ankle. “I don’t think so. But it sure does hurt.”
    “Maybe it’s so cold that it’s keeping her ankle from swelling up,” Meadow said breathlessly.
    Beatrice finally made it over to Dot and studied her ankle. “Maybe it’s just sprained,” she said. “It would be blowing up really quickly if it was broken. Do you think you can move toward the house? Would it help if I tried to pull you?”
    Dot sighed. “You know, I think I can scoot like you were doing. I’ll try to use my arms. I’m not sure you’re strong enough to pull me anyway.”
    That was good. Beatrice wasn’t sure she was strong enough, either.
    After a few minutes of muffled exclamations, imprecations, grunts, and groans, Dot made it to the side of the house. Meadow and Colton helped support Dot from both sides as she hopped on one foot up the stairs to the porch. Beatrice followed slowly behind.
    They helped Dot back to the library and pulled up a chair close to the fire so she could get warmed up.
    “I think we need to keep her foot elevated.” Beatrice frowned as she tried to remember rudimentary first aid. “Does anybody have