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Authors: Shirley Martin
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spilled from the counters. Everything appeared quite crude, except for a few adornments such as beads that peeked out from the shelves, along with mirrors--looking glasses, she mentally corrected--and buttons, buttons, buttons, hundreds of them. It sure wasn't Saks Fifth Avenue , but it would have to do.
Observing several bolts of cloth on the shelves, she considered that a good place to start, as Christian had suggested. Rebecca had given her a list of items to buy--needles and thread, a cake of lavender soap, tobacco for Daniel, among other things--plenty to keep her busy for a while.
"Ah, Dr. Norgard." The proprietor greeted them from behind the counter, smiling at Gwen. "You've captured another customer for me, I see."
Christian grinned. "You know how ladies love to shop."
Gwen silently fumed. Male chauvinist!
After making the introductions, Christian leaned against the counter. "About those medicaments I ordered..."
"Indeed, sir. I have the opium, aye, and the henbane, too. Also, the other medicaments." "Very good, Mr. Davenport." Christian tapped his knuckles on the counter, his gaze covering the room. "I'll be back in an hour to collect my things, and that should give Miss Emrys ample time to select her purchases." With a brief smile in her direction, he left for the fort. "Take as long as you want, Miss Emrys," Mr. Davenport said as he hurried to help another customer, "and you may examine anything on the counters or the shelves."
She headed for the fabrics. "Right, thanks."
Now that's pretty material, she mused, fingering a bolt of white calico printed with tiny red rosebuds and green vines, the fabric tucked between a length of blue linen and striped muslin. She ran her hand over the smooth cloth, imagining a dress made from the fabric, with lace around the neck, if possible. Colorful glass beads sparkled from one of the shelves, and glittering brooches nestled beside them.
She paused, her hand lingering on a pair of blue glass earrings. Christian had said he had business to tend to at the fort. Might that "business" have something to do with her? Checking up on her "spying", no doubt? She shuddered, afraid to dwell on his suspicions.
* * *
Surrounded by budding apple trees in the King's Garden--a grassy park north of Fort Pitt--Gwen enjoyed her midday meal with Christian. A light breeze blew across the Allegheny, while sunlight played on the rippling waters of the river. In the midst of such a beautiful ambience, Gwen resolved to act pleasant and not disagree or argue with Christian. She'd benefit more if she gained his confidence. Possibly then she could convince him she really had come from the twenty-first century, that she really could see things that would happen in his future. Her future, too, come to think of it.
Absently plucking the grass, she gave him a sidelong glance. "Are you going to the frolic at the Chamberlains?"
After a long swallow of cider, he set the mug on the ground. "I intend to, if nothing interferes. 'Twould be nice if we could have frolics more often. They're always gay affairs."
"Gay?"
He tore off a piece of rye and Injun bread. "Of course. You know, music and dancing. Everyone has a good time." Biting into the bread, he looked at her as if she had a room temperature I.Q.
"Oh. Gay. Yes, I see." She munched on a piece of cheese, keeping a close eye on him. She liked to watch his hand movements--those strong, expressive fingers--and dared to imagine those hands touching her, caressing her. Fanciful visions warmed her face, and fearing he'd sense her feelings, she returned to her meal. A few moments of silence stretched between them while Christian opened and closed his mouth, looking agitated.
He nodded toward the fort. "You were alone for an hour. That gave you much time to look around Fort Pitt , I should think."
She paused, a slice of oat bread halfway to her mouth. "Look around Fort Pitt ? Why would I want to do that?"
"'Tis what I should like to know, that,
Observing several bolts of cloth on the shelves, she considered that a good place to start, as Christian had suggested. Rebecca had given her a list of items to buy--needles and thread, a cake of lavender soap, tobacco for Daniel, among other things--plenty to keep her busy for a while.
"Ah, Dr. Norgard." The proprietor greeted them from behind the counter, smiling at Gwen. "You've captured another customer for me, I see."
Christian grinned. "You know how ladies love to shop."
Gwen silently fumed. Male chauvinist!
After making the introductions, Christian leaned against the counter. "About those medicaments I ordered..."
"Indeed, sir. I have the opium, aye, and the henbane, too. Also, the other medicaments." "Very good, Mr. Davenport." Christian tapped his knuckles on the counter, his gaze covering the room. "I'll be back in an hour to collect my things, and that should give Miss Emrys ample time to select her purchases." With a brief smile in her direction, he left for the fort. "Take as long as you want, Miss Emrys," Mr. Davenport said as he hurried to help another customer, "and you may examine anything on the counters or the shelves."
She headed for the fabrics. "Right, thanks."
Now that's pretty material, she mused, fingering a bolt of white calico printed with tiny red rosebuds and green vines, the fabric tucked between a length of blue linen and striped muslin. She ran her hand over the smooth cloth, imagining a dress made from the fabric, with lace around the neck, if possible. Colorful glass beads sparkled from one of the shelves, and glittering brooches nestled beside them.
She paused, her hand lingering on a pair of blue glass earrings. Christian had said he had business to tend to at the fort. Might that "business" have something to do with her? Checking up on her "spying", no doubt? She shuddered, afraid to dwell on his suspicions.
* * *
Surrounded by budding apple trees in the King's Garden--a grassy park north of Fort Pitt--Gwen enjoyed her midday meal with Christian. A light breeze blew across the Allegheny, while sunlight played on the rippling waters of the river. In the midst of such a beautiful ambience, Gwen resolved to act pleasant and not disagree or argue with Christian. She'd benefit more if she gained his confidence. Possibly then she could convince him she really had come from the twenty-first century, that she really could see things that would happen in his future. Her future, too, come to think of it.
Absently plucking the grass, she gave him a sidelong glance. "Are you going to the frolic at the Chamberlains?"
After a long swallow of cider, he set the mug on the ground. "I intend to, if nothing interferes. 'Twould be nice if we could have frolics more often. They're always gay affairs."
"Gay?"
He tore off a piece of rye and Injun bread. "Of course. You know, music and dancing. Everyone has a good time." Biting into the bread, he looked at her as if she had a room temperature I.Q.
"Oh. Gay. Yes, I see." She munched on a piece of cheese, keeping a close eye on him. She liked to watch his hand movements--those strong, expressive fingers--and dared to imagine those hands touching her, caressing her. Fanciful visions warmed her face, and fearing he'd sense her feelings, she returned to her meal. A few moments of silence stretched between them while Christian opened and closed his mouth, looking agitated.
He nodded toward the fort. "You were alone for an hour. That gave you much time to look around Fort Pitt , I should think."
She paused, a slice of oat bread halfway to her mouth. "Look around Fort Pitt ? Why would I want to do that?"
"'Tis what I should like to know, that,
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