Quilt or Innocence Read Free Page B

looks very nice. I’m sure Beatrice was used to attending exciting events in Atlanta, where it was important for her to look stylish.”
    “I hope Dappled Hills won’t be too boring for you, Beatrice,” said Georgia shyly. “There’s not nearly as much going on. But sometimes there’s an amateur night at the theater—that’s usually a lot of fun. Well, the
singing
isn’t as much fun, but I love some of the skits, and the local barber does a stand-up routine that’s always hilarious. So there
are
things to do here.”
    “Sometimes,” said Savannah in a repressive voice.
    Looking more cheerful, Meadow added, “Oh, and since Beatrice just happens to be a folk-art expert, she’ll have to give a talk at one of our programs. That’ll take care of one of them, anyway. I have the dickens of a time trying to plan and schedule those.”
    This was territory Beatrice felt a little more comfortable with. “I’m sure I could manage that, Meadow. Folk art wasn’t my
only
focus, but I did get to arrange some wonderful exhibits at the museum.”
    “And so you left a big career behind to come to Dappled Hills?” Savannah asked. “And look after Piper, I guess.” Her voice implied that looking after people was the most understandable motive of all.
    “Oh, Piper does fine on her own, I think. She’s always been such an independent child. I was simply ready to retire. I’d been thinking about slowing down for a while. And I thought it would be a nice change to move to a small town—and be near Piper, of course. I didn’t realize I’d be directly across the street from her, but it was the perfect cottage. I fell in love with it as soon as I saw it.”
    Meadow pursed her lips and gave Beatrice a considering look. “I’ve had a brilliant idea. My son Ash is here from California, visiting me this week. He’s absolutely gorgeous,” she said, completely seriously, “and a real
gentleman
. I’ll introduce Piper to Ash at the quilting bee—which is tomorrow! Let me call him. He was working on his laptop when I left. Oh, shoot! No, I remember . . . he’s gone to lunch with an old friend from high school. But I’ll bring him to the bee for sure. And you’ll need to come with Piper, Beatrice. Being independent is
fine
,
of course, but it’s even better to have a soul mate. Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of her life!”
    Beatrice was beginning to long for her little stone cottage and the soft gingham sofa in her tiny living room. She could read her new book,
Whispers of Summer
,
to the dulcet sounds of her corgi snoring. Somehow she’d pictured her retirement in quieter terms than quilting guilds and bees and quirky neighbors pulling her into a swarm of social activity.
    There was a knock at the door and Meadow popped up again like a jack-in-the-box, bouncing toward the front door, Boris dutifully giving a guard-dog-bark in a deep, growling, hellhound way.
    Posy smiled. “Dear Meadow and darling Boris. So much energy!”
    Beatrice’s daughter, Piper, was at the door, looking pretty as always with her dark hair in a pixie cut, her cute figure, and her gray eyes that matched Beatrice’s. Piper hugged Meadow. “When I saw Mama wasn’t home, I guessed you might have invited her over. Thanks for taking care of her for me. Did you know that if people don’t drag Mama out of the house, then she’d happily spend hours poring over dusty antiquities or tomes on Early American furniture?” She gave Beatrice an unrepentant grin and a fleeting kiss on the cheek.
    “We’ll have to set Mama up with some quilting supplies,” said Piper to Posy. “Or she can do some blocks for the bee. I finished mine, so I’m all set for tomorrow.”
    “Oh!” said Meadow with a start. “That reminds me that I need to get us set for our next project.” She attempted to look official and businesslike, but the effect was somewhat ruined by the fact that she had picked up the water pitcher to refill Beatrice’s tea and was now