Read Elm Creek Quilts [07] The Sugar Camp Quilt for Free Online Page A

to each other.”
    Cyrus laughed, incredulous. “You cannot mean it. I am as well traveled as you, sir, and I defy you to say the ladies of Creek’s Crossing are not as pretty or as charming as those of New York, Paris, or London, without all their artificial graces.”
    “Pretty?” Mr. Nelson paused. “Yes, perhaps one or two of them are somewhat pretty, but I do not find ignorant country girls amusing. It is far better for me to avoid them than to subject us both to an excruciating attempt at conversation.”
    “I cannot believe you seriously mean this. What about her?”
    Dorothea closed her eyes, hoping fervently that Cyrus was directing Mr. Nelson’s attention toward the other side of the room.
    “That young lady is Dorothea Granger,” said Cyrus, with a suggestion of pride. “Surely you can see how lovely she is. She is not yet twenty, and yet she is so clever she was appointed interim schoolteacher after your predecessor stepped down.”
    “That says more about your school board’s standards than her cleverness. In any event, the manner in which she gazes so longingly at the dance floor suggests that she has not set foot on one in quite some time. I assure you, I have no intention of directing my attention to any woman ignored by other men, especially those here, who know her character.”
    “Don’t be ridiculous,” said Cyrus. “Some may say she is too clever for her own good, but no one would ever question her strength of character. Let me introduce you. Miss Granger?”
    When he called to her, Dorothea took a quick, steadying breath before turning around to face them. “Yes, Mr. Pearson?”
    “Allow me to introduce you to Mr. Thomas Nelson, our guest of honor. He just finished telling me how very much he wishes to make your acquaintance.”
    Mr. Nelson masked his annoyance poorly as he bowed to her.
    “Welcome to Creek’s Crossing,” said Dorothea. “I regret that so far you have found very little to like about it.”
    Mr. Nelson gave not a flicker of acknowledgment, but Cyrus had the decency to appear mortified. “Miss Granger, please accept my apologies for my companion’s boorish remarks. You were not meant to overhear them.”
    “You are not the one who should apologize.”
    Mr. Nelson gestured impatiently to his boutonniere. “If you refer to my criticism of this collection of twigs and vegetable matter—”
    “I do not refer to it, but since you mention it, I must speak in its defense.” Dorothea gave the boutonniere a quick survey. “It is an unusual arrangement, but its maker’s intention is evident. Those twigs, as you call them, are maple seeds, and maple sugar is a significant part of our local economy. These are the leaves of the elm, which grow in abundance throughout the valley and whose beauty is a particular source of pride for us. The leaves of the rose, here and here, represent hope, while the water lily symbolizes purity of heart. The ribbon I recognize—the mayor’s wife wears a similar trim on her spring bonnet. To speak plainly, this nosegay that you disparage welcomes you to enjoy the beauty and prosperity of the Elm Creek Valley, with hopes that you will remain honest and true to your calling as the educator of our youth.”
    “You could hardly ask for a better welcome than that,” remarked Cyrus.
    “What I would ask for,” said Mr. Nelson, “is to be permitted to wear the flower of my choosing.”
    Dorothea glanced at his hands. “Would that have been a blossom plucked from a round cluster of small white flowers growing on a rather tall stem?”
    He almost managed to hide his surprise. “Yes, that’s right. Queen Anne’s lace. You must have seen me discard it.”
    Dorothea let out a small laugh. “No, I assure you, I was not paying you that much attention. Nor was your flower Queen Anne’s lace. We call it cow parsnip, although it is actually a member of the carrot family. Curiously enough, while it is edible, it is a particularly noxious weed to