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Chapters (51)
  1. Cover
  2. Books by Elizabeth Camden
  3. Title Page
  4. One
  5. Two
  6. Three
  7. Four
  8. Five
  9. Six
  10. Seven
  11. Eight
  12. Nine
  13. Ten
  14. Eleven
  15. Twelve
  16. Thirteen
  17. Fourteen
  18. Fifteen
  19. Sixteen
  20. Seventeen
  21. Eighteen
  22. Nineteen
  23. Twenty
  24. Twenty-One
  25. Twenty-Two
  26. Twenty-Three
  27. Twenty-Four
  28. Twenty-Five
  29. Twenty-Six
  30. Twenty-Seven
  31. Twenty-Eight
  32. Twenty-Nine
  33. Thirty
  34. Thirty-One
  35. Thirty-Two
  36. Thirty-Three
  37. Thirty-Four
  38. Thirty-Five
  39. Thirty-Six
  40. Thirty-Seven
  41. Thirty-Eight
  42. Thirty-Nine
  43. Forty
  44. Forty-One
  45. Forty-Two
  46. Historical Note
  47. Questions for Discussion
  48. In 2020, look forCaroline Delacroix’sstory in
  49. About the Author
  50. Back Ads
  51. Back Cover

But she could do it. She would bury the memory of that terrible day and move forward with her life. The past would be forgotten.

Silverware clinked as Elaine set the table. “That smells divine,” she said with a sigh.

It did. Everything about Annabelle’s world had become richer and more complex after Gray came into it. Wasn’t it fascinating how a scant spoonful of spice could transform an entire meal with an explosion of flavor? Just like that two-paragraph letter had sent her spirit soaring. Life was going to be good. The world was a huge, wide-open space full of choices, and anything was possible.

She had found a man of valor, and he was sailing into dark waters, but she would come alongside to help him survive the ordeal.

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There seemed to be no end to the good fortune raining down on Annabelle. When she arrived at the Smithsonian on Monday morning, Dr. Norwood was at her little workroom with good news.

“A position has been found for you with the Department of Agriculture,” he said. “A permanent position that pays considerably more than the modest stipend I have been able to give you here. Beginning immediately, you will be working alongside Mr. Greenfield in the division of cereal grasses. Is that acceptable to you?”

She opened her mouth but was so elated it was hard to find the right words. “Yes!” she finally managed to stammer. “Yes, I’d be very happy working for Agriculture.”

Ten minutes later she was walking the six blocks to her new position at the Department of Agriculture. Her spirits lifted as she admired the extraordinary experimental gardens outside the building, for they were probably the finest and most exotic in the entire country. There was talk of someday clearing all these gardens to build a large green lawn, a mall that would let people admire unobstructed views all the way from the White House to the Washington Monument. For now, the land showcased the bounty of America with manicured gardens, experimental crops, and an arboretum.

The Department of Agriculture was housed in an imposing building with two wings and a grand marble staircase leading up to the main entrance. She was met on the front terrace by the gangly, middle-aged botanist who would be her coworker in the cereal lab.

“I’m Horace Greenfield, chief botanist for cereal grasses,” he said. “Get it? Greenfield? I was born with that name, and my mother always said it was destiny I would go into agriculture. We’ll be sharing a laboratory, but first, a tour!” He held the door open for her.