Read Online The Officer and the Bostoner (Historical Western Romance) (Fort Gibson Officers Series, Book 1) by Rose Gordon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rose Gordon
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everything.”
“ I know that, but—”
“ But nothing.” She poked her needle back into the fabric in her hand and started sewing again. “Now, get to sewing. I am eager to see how this dress of yours will turn out.”
Allison tried not to let on to her discomfort. Sarah knew as well as she did that this dress would be completely unwearable by the time she was finished with it. She was certain of it.
Forcing herself not to grind her teeth, she took a deep breath and brought the tip of her needle close to the fabric. This was it. Soon these two pentagonal pieces of fabric would be stuck together. Forever.
Blowing out one final breath, she poked the sharp needle through the hard fabric, noting how much more difficult it seemed for her to push it through than either Mrs. Lewis or Sarah. Dismissing the thought, she used her other hand to grab the end of the needle and pull it through. Then she turned the fabric over and frowned. Where should she enter the fabric again? She bit her lip. Not too close to the last stitch or it’d take her a week to reach the end. Deciding a finger’s width seemed reasonable, she pushed the needle through again, grimacing at the way the sharp end dug into her finger.
For more than two hours she sewed. She poked it in one side, using her poor, red-tipped thumb to push the needle through, then turned the fabric over and pulled it the rest of the way through. Finally, she’d reached the end of the long straight part of her skirt. Not quite sure just what she’d do about the diagonals that made a point, she left those for later.
“ Are you done?” Mrs. Lewis asked with a sparkle in her eye.
Allison rubbed her thumb and forefinger together, trying to soothe the hurt caused by repeated pokes from the needle. She reached forward for the cutting shears she’d placed on the table next to her after cutting the fabric. “Yes. I just need to sever the thread.”
“I know you’re excited to be wearing a dress like you wore back East, but don’t forget to tie off the thread first.” Sarah’s voice was quiet and sweet, holding not a hint of annoyance or condemnation for Allison’s lack of knowledge.
Allison’s eyes went wide. “Right.” She looked down and pulled the needle and thread a little tighter. She hadn’t given herself much thread to start with, so knotting what was left wasn’t going to be easy.
She twisted the thread this way, then that, and formed some sort of a sloppy knot that looked like it could hold, then cut the thread.
Determined to prove to Mrs. Lewis, Sarah, Wes, and most of all, herself, that she could sew, Allison picked up the spool of thread and ignored the way her tender fingers protested as she held the needle in her left hand and the thread in the right and attempted to rethread the needle to sew up the other side.
Ten frustrating minutes later, she nearly jumped for joy. Her needle was threaded and she hadn’t had to seek help from Sarah to do it.
Just as she poked the thread back through the fabric to start the torture all over again, a loud trumpet sounded, scaring Allison half out of her wits.
“ Lunchtime,” Mrs. Lewis said, placing her sewing down in the little basket beside her chair.
~Chapter Seven~
“ Where’s your new dress, wife?” Wes asked as he walked through the door of the Lewis’ home and saw her seated on their sofa.
Allison jumped at his words, then immediately dropped her skirt into the basket at her feet. “It’s not finished yet.”
“It’s not?” he asked, feigning shock.
“ Of course not. It’s impossible to sew up a dress in a matter of a day.”
“ Hmmm.” He knit his brow and looked her up and down. “I thought you were an expert.” It took all the self-control he possessed not to crack a smile at the way her shoulders stiffened at his words.
“ I am. But these things take time.” She idly rubbed her blistered fingers together as they left the Lewis’ residence and made their
“ I know that, but—”
“ But nothing.” She poked her needle back into the fabric in her hand and started sewing again. “Now, get to sewing. I am eager to see how this dress of yours will turn out.”
Allison tried not to let on to her discomfort. Sarah knew as well as she did that this dress would be completely unwearable by the time she was finished with it. She was certain of it.
Forcing herself not to grind her teeth, she took a deep breath and brought the tip of her needle close to the fabric. This was it. Soon these two pentagonal pieces of fabric would be stuck together. Forever.
Blowing out one final breath, she poked the sharp needle through the hard fabric, noting how much more difficult it seemed for her to push it through than either Mrs. Lewis or Sarah. Dismissing the thought, she used her other hand to grab the end of the needle and pull it through. Then she turned the fabric over and frowned. Where should she enter the fabric again? She bit her lip. Not too close to the last stitch or it’d take her a week to reach the end. Deciding a finger’s width seemed reasonable, she pushed the needle through again, grimacing at the way the sharp end dug into her finger.
For more than two hours she sewed. She poked it in one side, using her poor, red-tipped thumb to push the needle through, then turned the fabric over and pulled it the rest of the way through. Finally, she’d reached the end of the long straight part of her skirt. Not quite sure just what she’d do about the diagonals that made a point, she left those for later.
“ Are you done?” Mrs. Lewis asked with a sparkle in her eye.
Allison rubbed her thumb and forefinger together, trying to soothe the hurt caused by repeated pokes from the needle. She reached forward for the cutting shears she’d placed on the table next to her after cutting the fabric. “Yes. I just need to sever the thread.”
“I know you’re excited to be wearing a dress like you wore back East, but don’t forget to tie off the thread first.” Sarah’s voice was quiet and sweet, holding not a hint of annoyance or condemnation for Allison’s lack of knowledge.
Allison’s eyes went wide. “Right.” She looked down and pulled the needle and thread a little tighter. She hadn’t given herself much thread to start with, so knotting what was left wasn’t going to be easy.
She twisted the thread this way, then that, and formed some sort of a sloppy knot that looked like it could hold, then cut the thread.
Determined to prove to Mrs. Lewis, Sarah, Wes, and most of all, herself, that she could sew, Allison picked up the spool of thread and ignored the way her tender fingers protested as she held the needle in her left hand and the thread in the right and attempted to rethread the needle to sew up the other side.
Ten frustrating minutes later, she nearly jumped for joy. Her needle was threaded and she hadn’t had to seek help from Sarah to do it.
Just as she poked the thread back through the fabric to start the torture all over again, a loud trumpet sounded, scaring Allison half out of her wits.
“ Lunchtime,” Mrs. Lewis said, placing her sewing down in the little basket beside her chair.
~Chapter Seven~
“ Where’s your new dress, wife?” Wes asked as he walked through the door of the Lewis’ home and saw her seated on their sofa.
Allison jumped at his words, then immediately dropped her skirt into the basket at her feet. “It’s not finished yet.”
“It’s not?” he asked, feigning shock.
“ Of course not. It’s impossible to sew up a dress in a matter of a day.”
“ Hmmm.” He knit his brow and looked her up and down. “I thought you were an expert.” It took all the self-control he possessed not to crack a smile at the way her shoulders stiffened at his words.
“ I am. But these things take time.” She idly rubbed her blistered fingers together as they left the Lewis’ residence and made their
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