Ella: an Everland Ever After Tale Read Online Free Page A

crept back over her face, and Ian’s smile grew. Yeah, maybe he was teasing her a little, but it shouldn’t matter. She couldn’t hide her pity at his leg; he wasn’t going to hide him amusement at the way she stared.
    But almost a minute went by before he finally broke the spell. “Miss…?
    “Ella.” That was definitely a blurt. She blurted out her name, and Ian hid his chuckle by clearing his throat.
    “Nice to meet you, Ella.” Although they hadn’t officially “met”, that didn’t seem to bother her. “I’m Ian Crowne.”
    “This is your store?” Her dark brows went up, and he wondered if she was impressed.
    A nod, and Ian didn’t bother to hide his pride. “It is, indeed. Almost three years now, one of Everland’s staples.” She didn’t need to know that it was a struggle to maintain the place by himself through the summer rushes, or to make enough through the long winter months.
    Almost hesitantly, she picked her way toward his counter. Each footfall made a heavy clu-clunk , and Ian’s trained eye picked out the boots—the kind the cowboys wore—peeking out from her worn blue dress. It was an odd choice of footwear for such a delicate little thing, but maybe she had a reason for wearing them. He’d heard from one of his regulars that the upcoming celebration had drawn a bunch of strangers—mysterious and otherwise—into town. And if she was coming through on the train—he’d definitely never seen her before—then maybe the footwear made sense.
    He was thinking about the possibilities of ordering a few sets of sturdy boots for the women coming through when the girl dropped her purchases on the counter in front of him. He glanced up from them to find her smiling shyly, and he cursed himself for the sudden thickness in his throat—and his trousers. She was just a girl, passing through, who pitied him.
    Still, he’d spent most of his life selling people things. “This ribbon will be lovely on you.” He might not have many young women who shopped at his store yet, but he knew that compliments always worked. “For a dress you’re making?”
    She blushed. She actually blushed, and looked away, pretending great interest in a jar of hard candies. Ian studied her profile; skin pale enough that her cheeks pinked prettily, high cheekbones, a bottom lip a man might want to suck on, all capped with a head of black-as-coal hair. She’d pulled the mass of it back, but enough tendrils escaped around her forehead, ears and nape to prove that it was long and wavy. He’d always liked women with dark hair, and decided that—whatever her thoughts on him—he didn’t mind looking at Ella one bit.
    “It’s not for me.” Her admission was almost a whisper.
    “You’re a seamstress then?” That was a useful profession for a woman looking to start a new life out west—or wherever the train was taking her. Or maybe she was one of the unknown newcomers who were camped outside of town, and was hoping to one day set up shop here in Everland? He wouldn’t mind seeing her more often.
    “Of… Of sorts, I suppose.” If he hadn’t been staring at her, he might’ve missed the flash of blue when she peeked at him; because he didn’t, Ian smiled gently and was rewarded with another blush. His chest puffed, thinking that he made a pretty girl blush. That was a feather in any man’s cap, cripple or no.
    Her hands fiddled with the ribbon, so he picked up the small bolt of fringe. “How much of this do you need?”
    “Um…” Her finger skimmed over the ribbon gently, reverently. There were calluses on that finger, which Ian hadn’t expected to see. A seamstress would have scars on her fingertips—his own mother had been one, and he remembered the way her fingers would be poked with needles and pins while making dresses for her clients—but not full calluses. Perhaps they were from her journey westward? “All of it, I think. Just to be safe.”
    It was a smart idea, to buy it all so that she