Read Online Cinderella in Overalls by Carol Grace - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Carol Grace
Ads: Link
acknowledging the arrival of her friend Jacinda, she supervised her daughter at the loom and waited on customers. An alpaca sweater dyed a natural rose color hung on a hanger at the entrance to the stall. Rubbing the soft wool between her thumb and forefinger, Catherine caught Jacinda’s eye. Jacinda smiled and nodded emphatically.
“It was meant for you, chica,” she said. “Perhaps we can trade for eggs or—”
Catherine shook her head. She wouldn’t take their produce and use it for barter. It was too precious. She reached into her pocket. “I have money. A birthday present from my mother.” She examined the price written on a paper pinned to the hem of the sweater. “It’s not expensive.”
Jacinda held the sweater up to Catherine’s shoulders and nodded her approval. “Leave the bargaining to me,” she whispered.
When Margarita finally cleared the stall of customers and turned her attention to Catherine and Jacinda, she sent her daughter to the crate in back to fetch a bolt of hand-woven wool. The loosely woven fabric was a mixture of pink and rose and mauve and a perfect match for the pink sweater. Catherine stood still while they wrapped the material around her hips, then pinned and tucked and turned her around like a department store mannequin.
She didn’t remember saying yes, but she had no intention of saying no as the women chattered and beamed their approval. While she watched, Margarita’s daughter stitched up the side and sewed a waistband around the top. Jacinda and Margarita settled on a price, and Catherine paid and walked out with the first new clothes she’d bought since she’d arrived in Aruaca. The fact that she had no place to wear such a beautiful handmade outfit didn’t occur to her until she returned to their stall. Oh, well, she could always send it to her sister for Christmas.
The other women insisted she try on the new clothes, and behind the crates they spread their skirts to give her privacy. Pulling the sweater over her head, Catherine loosened her braid and let her dark hair fall over one shoulder in a mass of waves.
The skirt flared from her hips, then floated to midcalf, the rose-colored sweater caressing her skin above her pink lace bra. She held out her arms, and to the women’s delight, twirled around in front of the parsley and melons.
Giddy from lack of sleep, Catherine suddenly realized that shadows were falling over the marketplace. Without taking time to change her clothes she began packing up to go home. She didn’t look forward to being in the truck without someone to sleep on. Resolutely she banished the thought from her mind, the thought of strong, broad shoulders and a soothing voice, and picked up her old clothes to change for the ride home.
But out of the corner of her eye, as if she’d made him appear by thinking about him, Josh was approaching. Easily visible above the crowd, he was wearing his three-piece suit, the jacket slung over his shoulder just like the first time she’d seen him. She stood staring at him as the contrast of light and shadow played tricks on her eyes, afraid that if she took her eyes away for even a moment, he would disappear like a mirage.
Their eyes locked and held as he came closer and closer until he finally stood facing her, his eyes taking a tour of her new skirt and sweater. She felt her body respond as if he’d touched her. But he didn’t. He only looked. Her skin tingled, her heart pounded until he finally spoke.
“Are you going somewhere?” he asked.
“Yes, home.” She followed his gaze. “Oh, you mean because I’m wearing... These are my new clothes I bought from Jacinda’s friend the weaver.” She was babbling. She couldn’t stop.
Jacinda sidled up to Josh. “¿Le gusta?” she asked, nodding her head at Catherine.
He smiled. “Me gusto mucho,” he assured her, using one of the phrases he was sure of. The Spanish class he’d taken before he’d come occasionally paid off.
Pleased, Jacinda
“It was meant for you, chica,” she said. “Perhaps we can trade for eggs or—”
Catherine shook her head. She wouldn’t take their produce and use it for barter. It was too precious. She reached into her pocket. “I have money. A birthday present from my mother.” She examined the price written on a paper pinned to the hem of the sweater. “It’s not expensive.”
Jacinda held the sweater up to Catherine’s shoulders and nodded her approval. “Leave the bargaining to me,” she whispered.
When Margarita finally cleared the stall of customers and turned her attention to Catherine and Jacinda, she sent her daughter to the crate in back to fetch a bolt of hand-woven wool. The loosely woven fabric was a mixture of pink and rose and mauve and a perfect match for the pink sweater. Catherine stood still while they wrapped the material around her hips, then pinned and tucked and turned her around like a department store mannequin.
She didn’t remember saying yes, but she had no intention of saying no as the women chattered and beamed their approval. While she watched, Margarita’s daughter stitched up the side and sewed a waistband around the top. Jacinda and Margarita settled on a price, and Catherine paid and walked out with the first new clothes she’d bought since she’d arrived in Aruaca. The fact that she had no place to wear such a beautiful handmade outfit didn’t occur to her until she returned to their stall. Oh, well, she could always send it to her sister for Christmas.
The other women insisted she try on the new clothes, and behind the crates they spread their skirts to give her privacy. Pulling the sweater over her head, Catherine loosened her braid and let her dark hair fall over one shoulder in a mass of waves.
The skirt flared from her hips, then floated to midcalf, the rose-colored sweater caressing her skin above her pink lace bra. She held out her arms, and to the women’s delight, twirled around in front of the parsley and melons.
Giddy from lack of sleep, Catherine suddenly realized that shadows were falling over the marketplace. Without taking time to change her clothes she began packing up to go home. She didn’t look forward to being in the truck without someone to sleep on. Resolutely she banished the thought from her mind, the thought of strong, broad shoulders and a soothing voice, and picked up her old clothes to change for the ride home.
But out of the corner of her eye, as if she’d made him appear by thinking about him, Josh was approaching. Easily visible above the crowd, he was wearing his three-piece suit, the jacket slung over his shoulder just like the first time she’d seen him. She stood staring at him as the contrast of light and shadow played tricks on her eyes, afraid that if she took her eyes away for even a moment, he would disappear like a mirage.
Their eyes locked and held as he came closer and closer until he finally stood facing her, his eyes taking a tour of her new skirt and sweater. She felt her body respond as if he’d touched her. But he didn’t. He only looked. Her skin tingled, her heart pounded until he finally spoke.
“Are you going somewhere?” he asked.
“Yes, home.” She followed his gaze. “Oh, you mean because I’m wearing... These are my new clothes I bought from Jacinda’s friend the weaver.” She was babbling. She couldn’t stop.
Jacinda sidled up to Josh. “¿Le gusta?” she asked, nodding her head at Catherine.
He smiled. “Me gusto mucho,” he assured her, using one of the phrases he was sure of. The Spanish class he’d taken before he’d come occasionally paid off.
Pleased, Jacinda
Similar Books
