Blood Moon (Silver Moon, #3) - By Rebecca A. Rogers Page 0,6
people unaccounted for, strange occurrences, etcetera. But first, we need clothes to blend in with the rest of civilization, and food.” He rubs my side, which is slowly lulling me to sleep. I close my eyes and snuggle closer to him, half my body on top of his. “I’m so calm right now, I don’t even want to get up and do anything.”
“Okay, how about we take a nap, and then we can figure our next course of action?” he suggests.
I grin. “Sounds fantastic.”
Later, after we’ve rested, Ben and I wander toward the heart of Colchester. We’re still not entirely certain what we’ll do without money, but I’m sure we’ll figure out something. We need to blend in, not cause a scene. So Ben gets this bright idea of offering our services—cooking, cleaning, whatever—in exchange for clothing. Of course, everybody in this time period sews outfits by hand, and obviously Ben and I don’t have the knowledge or the means to do so. Luckily for us, the woman who owns the fabric store, Fiona, is kind enough to take us up on our proposal, though she never questions why we’re dressed the way we are.
“Ye can start right away,” she says. A tendril of brunette hair dangles in front of her face, having loosened itself from her bun, and she hastily tucks it behind her ear. “I need the floors swept, the materials organized, and the inventory inspected.”
Oh, inventory . . . I can do that. It reminds me of working at Livia’s Corner Closet with Jana, where she and I stocked clothing and checked inventory all the time. The brief thought of Jana makes me homesick, though. I wonder what she, Blake, and the others are doing at this exact moment.
You can’t think like that, Candra, Ben says, interrupting my thoughts. Whatever happens in the future depends on us and what we find out within the next few weeks or so. But we have to play our cards carefully.
Ignoring Ben, I tell Fiona, “I’ll be happy to help with the inventory.” She raises an eyebrow inquiringly. “I helped at another . . . fabric store in my old town, so I have experience.”
“Well, that settles it, then. And ye?” She pointedly eyes Ben. “What are ye good at?”
“Uh,” Ben falters, “I can sweep the floors, I guess.”
“’Tis not a man’s job to clean, ye know,” Fiona explains. She narrows her eyes. “Word on the street is the two of ye are not from around here. Thy clothes are unlike anything I have seen before. Is this”—she gestures toward our attire—“a new fashion elsewhere?”
“You could say that,” I respond.
She steps closer to me, observing my face suspiciously. “And thy language is unique, as well. Also naught I am familiar with.”
Ben clears his throat. “Well, that’s just how we speak back home.”
Fiona turns her attention to Ben. “And where is thy home?”
He and I exchange a cautious glance. We can easily step on peoples’ toes around here and get caught. That’s not something which needs to happen. Like Ben said before, we have to play our cards carefully.
Ben replies, “Connecticut.”
Fiona ponders his response, then says, “My ears have not heard of thy land. ’Tis near England?”
Shaking his head, Ben answers, “No, our land is far, far away.”
“I see,” says Fiona. “Then, how did the two of ye arrive here?”
“We just sort of . . . dropped in for a visit. We heard England is a nice place. I hope Colchester’s citizens will prove this to be true,” I say, wishing this woman will end her grilling. I’m sure all of Colchester is dying to know who we are and where we originated from, but the less they know, the better. We can’t have these people submerging their noses in our business; it’s too risky.
“Aye, of course we will. Ye shall see our kindness thyself, just ye wait,” Fiona says eventually. “Allow me to gather thy measurements first, and then ye can proceed with tidying this place up.”
True to her word, Fiona takes Ben and me into a back room of the charming boutique and calculates our sizes. I have no idea what mine is, especially in this day and age, but I’m willing to bet it’s nothing like the size I sport in my world. The strange part will be when Ben and I have to actually wear these new clothes. Let’s get one thing straight: I know nothing about corsets and skirts. I haven’t worn dresses since my mom used