Ella: an Everland Ever After Tale Read Online Free

to tie the decorations together, the fringe would look out of place… but her stepsisters really only cared about the ostentatious aspects of a dress. And judging from the size and quality of this ribbon, it’d cost Papa a pretty penny—which of course was no issue, as far as they were concerned—and thus would satisfy her stepsisters.
    The ribbon would work for Sibyl’s dress as well, but Ella continued to dig through the pile, just to marvel at the different textures and colors. At the very bottom, she found the most beautiful black velvet ribbon. It didn’t go with any of the Miller sisters’ gowns, but it was gorgeous. Ella held the bolt in one hand and stroked the ribbon across her opposite palm, quelling a delicious shiver at its softness against her skin.
    Had she ever worn anything so decadent? She’d spent a decade sewing for her sisters, all manner of dresses and gowns for their weekly social outings and monthly suppers. Mabel and Eunice probably had a hundred dresses, between the two of them, and Ella had made all but a few of them. But none for herself. Ella had two dresses, an extra skirt, and a blouse. All of which had once belonged to her sisters, and were even plainer than their nightgowns. She wore her blue cotton in the summer, and her gray wool in the winter, and hoped that she found time to stitch up any rips or tears.
    But this , this velvet… Ella sighed again, allowing it to caress her palm one more time. This was like a rich promise of... of… excitement and beauty and adventure.
    And you’ll never have the chance to wear it , she reminded herself sternly. Making quick work of rolling up the velvet ribbon, Ella gathered the spool of white ribbon and the fringed bolt, and turned to the counter.
    And stopped short. He was smiling again. At her .
     
     
     
     

CHAPTER TWO

     
     
    Ian watched the girl’s concentration melt into a look of wonder as she slowly stroked the black ribbon, and he smiled. When she’d entered his store—when she’d gazed at him like he was a chocolate cake with cream and berries on top—she’d looked every inch a woman. An interested woman. But now, seeing the way her face softened and her eyes went all hazy, Ian thought she looked younger. More innocent.
    And, as he settled back on his stool, he had to admit that he liked her better this way. He was used to women looking at him like she had at first, seeing his broad shoulders and fine suits. But as soon as they got a look at his leg—or rather, where his leg had been—their expressions inevitably all changed to pity. Every single one of them.
    Just like this girl’s had. Oh, he hadn’t needed to be looking into those bright blue eyes to see the pity there—he’d known it from the small gasp she probably hadn’t even noticed, and the way her lips had tightened.
    If he’d been smart, Ian would’ve just stayed behind the counter, enjoying this stranger’s brief admiration, and pointed to the basket of fripperies. But he’d long ago promised himself that he wasn’t going to let his injury stop him from doing every single thing that a shop-owner should, and that included waiting on his customers.
    Using his crutch in the store, however, was just silly; he hated having to maneuver around the displays. Instead, ropes ran around the store—he could use them for advertising, too—which he relied on for balance. Most of his customers had gotten used to seeing him hopping and shuffling and lifting himself around the store, but with the influx of people from the railway, he always got some stares.
    He could swallow down the anger their pity left him feeling, and smile politely to make sales, because that’s what mercantile owners did. They made sales. And judging from the amount of ribbon and whatnot this girl was collecting, he was about to make a big one.
    So he was still smiling when she finally turned to him, her arms full of rolls and spools. And stopped dead. The look of surprise and bemusement