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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

Laughter bubbled up inside, and he didn’t bother to hide it. Caroline laughed too, and he pulled her into another hug. They needed this. No matter how hard these days were, and there were plenty more darkening the horizon, it was important to celebrate these small flashes of happiness.

Annabelle would be a big part of the happiness he wanted in his life. He missed her. It had been a week since he’d left for Cuba, and he was ready to pick up where he’d left off. Perhaps this weekend they could take a trip to Mount Vernon, where she’d have a chance to pay homage to the man she’d always admired. Her wholesome, unabashed joy in the commonplace things he took for granted always impressed him. Looking at the world through her eyes was teaching him to savor the bounty around him, and now more than ever, he needed her in his life.

Luke had been corrupted and Otis may have betrayed them all, but Gray could depend on Annabelle to light these dark days.

Twenty

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Annabelle had been at her new job for only a week, but she loved every moment of it. The Department of Agriculture was huge, occupying one of the largest buildings in all of Washington, DC. Each morning Annabelle climbed to the third floor, where she worked alongside Horace Greenfield to study durum wheat. Horace was a voracious gossip, gleefully spreading the latest chatter generated in Washington’s tight-knit group of government employees. While she didn’t mind listening to him, she never let a word about her own life slip, for doing so could make it fodder for the Washington grapevine.

In her second week, she began measuring the effect of deep freeze on the wheat. The kernels had been in cold storage of varying conditions for three months, and she studied each batch beneath the lens of a microscope, searching for frost damage.

“Visitor for you,” Horace said.

She pulled back from the microscope and froze, for the last thing she expected to see was Gray Delacroix standing in the open doorway with a rumpled shirt and a two-day growth of beard shadowing his jaw. He looked exhausted, but his eyes burned with a quiet hope. He held a bouquet of daises in his hand.

“Congratulations,” he said, slowly walking into the lab and handing her the flowers. She’d never been given flowers in her life, and it made her heart skip a beat.

“For what?”

He looked around the laboratory, his gaze tracking along the black slate tables and banks of steel cabinets lining the walls. “On your new job. Coming to work for the enemy, I see.”

There was no heat in his words, only a gentle humor, but Horace overheard, and his eyes nearly popped from his head. The sight of a handsome, disheveled man carrying flowers in hand and his heart in his eyes would stoke Horace’s gossip-hungry appetite for weeks.