"I'm going to run down to The Sandwich Board and get a bite to eat,” Avanell said. “Would you like to join me? I thought I'd pop into Pins and Needles and look at the new Hoffman prints Marjory just got in on the way back."

Pins and Needles was the local quilt goods store, located in downtown Foggy Point and boasting seven thousand bolts of fabric as well as every tool and notion on the market-at least, it seemed that way to its devoted customers. Marjory Swain had purchased the store seven years before when the previous owner decided to trade the gray winters of Foggy Point for the sunny warmth of Mesa, Arizona.

In its past life the store had been oriented more toward the practical fabrics used in the construction of clothes-Marjory still kept a small room at the back of the shop devoted to dressmaking supplies-but Pins and Needles's main focus now was the making of quilts.

No matter how large or small, every reputable quilt shop can be counted on to carry the high-quality long-staple cotton that can be trusted not to shrink, twist, bleed or wear out before its time, as well as cotton thread imported from Germany and wound on slender spools in an array of neutral colors. They all carried several sizes and thicknesses of both cotton and wool batting, too.

Harriet made a point of checking out the quilt store in every city she visited. Foggy Point was no different. She'd badgered Aunt Beth into taking her to Pins and Needles the day she'd arrived.

Aunt Beth had opened the door to the shop, and a light floral scent had enveloped them. The main room was filled with bolts of colorful fabric. At the end of each row of shelves was a display of quilted samples artfully arranged around scented candles that she'd learned were made at a shop around the corner.