Read Online The Last Honest Seamstress by Gina Robinson - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Gina Robinson
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innocently turned into her shop, hoping to find a seamstress capable of producing a decent shirt. He still remembered his first glimpse of her, didn't think he'd ever forget it. She'd been kneeling at the foot of a dressmaker's form, tugging at the hem of a dress, eyeing it to make sure it was even all the way around. The sun shone in on her, illuminating her golden blond hair. In his mind's eye, he remembered her bathed in such brilliance that the background became indistinguishable. There was only her. She turned and looked up at him. Her eyes were a bright, intelligent blue, her face a perfect high-cheeked oval. He had felt like someone kicked the wind right out of him.
Silly as it was, he had never felt that way before and didn't think he would again. He was already thirty-two years old. He didn't suppress his urge to hum as he walked along.
He had been at sea since he was fourteen and had built a fine business. Lately he'd been restless, thinking he might settle down. A wife and family were beginning to sound good. The hell of it was Miss Sheridan was right. He wouldn't give up the sea. Unfortunately there weren't many women who understood its pull, and fewer still that he felt could stand on their own during his absences. Fayth Sheridan could.
His physical reaction to her the first time they'd met stunned him enough to suppress his usually outgoing nature. He'd been quiet, almost unable to speak, forced mostly to listen and observe. To plan. Some man had made her skittish. He determined that fast enough. She proved that again today. One moment she was cool as a northern breeze and the next he caught her looking at him with undeniable interest. She certainly interested him, more with each encounter, but he had to go easy.
She chatted on that first day, making pleasant banter that didn't reveal a thing about her. It wasn't until they were at her desk filling out his order form that another customer had come in. Miss Sheridan had excused herself to wait on the woman, and that's when he discovered what he wanted to know.
They whispered to each other, but he had a keen sense of hearing. The other woman asked her something about her evening out. Miss Sheridan complained about being courted by so many men. About feeling like something on display at the grocer's. They must have realized they were whispering too loudly, because they lowered their voices and he didn't hear anything more.
When the woman had left and Miss Sheridan came back to the desk to complete the order form, she was smiling pleasantly. By that time it was obvious that the only way to court Fayth Sheridan, was not to. Anything else met with immediate failure.
He was a patient man, up to a point. He would keep his head and wait until she spurned so many men she developed a reputation for being cold, until all those other fools stopped coming around. If he could hold back that long. Then he'd court her mercilessly. In the meantime he'd just stop by from time to time. That had been his plan until two days ago. He'd almost had to think up a new strategy, but now he saw that his original plan was salvageable.
He couldn't help wondering what had brought her to Seattle. He wouldn't have selected it for a single woman under his care. Where was her family? He missed his guess if she hadn't run from someone. Some man had hurt her badly. It was the only explanation for her wary attitude.
He wanted to beat the man who’d done this to her. The only thought that caused him to go cold and worry over the success of his plan was the fear that the fellow might show up to reclaim her before he could win her affections.
She wore mourning clothes. Maybe the man was dead. Maybe it was grief that drove her. He wished he knew.
He turned the corner on the last block to the wharf and smiled again as he caught sight of the Aurnia in her berth.
Man alive! He couldn't help remembering the way Fayth's hand had felt against his leg as she measured his inseam.
Silly as it was, he had never felt that way before and didn't think he would again. He was already thirty-two years old. He didn't suppress his urge to hum as he walked along.
He had been at sea since he was fourteen and had built a fine business. Lately he'd been restless, thinking he might settle down. A wife and family were beginning to sound good. The hell of it was Miss Sheridan was right. He wouldn't give up the sea. Unfortunately there weren't many women who understood its pull, and fewer still that he felt could stand on their own during his absences. Fayth Sheridan could.
His physical reaction to her the first time they'd met stunned him enough to suppress his usually outgoing nature. He'd been quiet, almost unable to speak, forced mostly to listen and observe. To plan. Some man had made her skittish. He determined that fast enough. She proved that again today. One moment she was cool as a northern breeze and the next he caught her looking at him with undeniable interest. She certainly interested him, more with each encounter, but he had to go easy.
She chatted on that first day, making pleasant banter that didn't reveal a thing about her. It wasn't until they were at her desk filling out his order form that another customer had come in. Miss Sheridan had excused herself to wait on the woman, and that's when he discovered what he wanted to know.
They whispered to each other, but he had a keen sense of hearing. The other woman asked her something about her evening out. Miss Sheridan complained about being courted by so many men. About feeling like something on display at the grocer's. They must have realized they were whispering too loudly, because they lowered their voices and he didn't hear anything more.
When the woman had left and Miss Sheridan came back to the desk to complete the order form, she was smiling pleasantly. By that time it was obvious that the only way to court Fayth Sheridan, was not to. Anything else met with immediate failure.
He was a patient man, up to a point. He would keep his head and wait until she spurned so many men she developed a reputation for being cold, until all those other fools stopped coming around. If he could hold back that long. Then he'd court her mercilessly. In the meantime he'd just stop by from time to time. That had been his plan until two days ago. He'd almost had to think up a new strategy, but now he saw that his original plan was salvageable.
He couldn't help wondering what had brought her to Seattle. He wouldn't have selected it for a single woman under his care. Where was her family? He missed his guess if she hadn't run from someone. Some man had hurt her badly. It was the only explanation for her wary attitude.
He wanted to beat the man who’d done this to her. The only thought that caused him to go cold and worry over the success of his plan was the fear that the fellow might show up to reclaim her before he could win her affections.
She wore mourning clothes. Maybe the man was dead. Maybe it was grief that drove her. He wished he knew.
He turned the corner on the last block to the wharf and smiled again as he caught sight of the Aurnia in her berth.
Man alive! He couldn't help remembering the way Fayth's hand had felt against his leg as she measured his inseam.
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