Six Little Sunflowers: Historical Romance Novella (American State Flower) Read Online Free Page B

who had fallen on hard times.
    Could be looking for employment with the French dressmaker.
    “Helping people is my job,” he said to fill the silence as he waited for her to walk away.
    She didn’t move. Or thank him. Or gush praises over him for being their hero as most women tended to do while batting their eyelashes repeatedly. Her head—a little heart-shaped, a little oval—tilted to the left. She regarded him with an unnerving expression. A challenging one.
    A be-honest-with-me one.
    You have no idea who I am, do you?
    Her words had struck him more as a statement than a question. She knew he had no idea. Something told him, he should know her name. Or at least he ought to know from where he knew her, from where he’d seen her before. Her hair, rich as coffee, was pulled back in a silky and precise bun at the nape of her neck, with not a hair out of place. Blue-gray eyes the color of the morning sky after sunrise. Lips moist and pink, and remarkably full. Beautiful? No. Even if she gained a few pounds, she would never command the spotlight in a crowd. She wouldn’t attract a company of firemen to stare like the dressmaker’s daughter had. Still, with ears, nose, and cheeks red from the cold, she had a wholesome, pretty look that a man wouldn’t mind waking up to.
    Seth hadn’t known who she was either. The man literally had a book with names—and key details—of every unmarried female in Wichita. The man had courted a good number of them.
    This woman, though...
    Now that Carp had had a good look at her, he knew they’d never met. If they’d had, he would have escorted her to Herron’s Grocery and bought her a couple months’ worth of food.
    She continued to study him. It was as if she could see into his soul. See his fears. Know his secrets.
    Carp shook his head. She had no idea who he was.
    “Carp!”
    He waved at his men to let them know he was coming. He twisted his neck until he heard it pop. She might know his name. Might. She didn’t know him. She would never know his secrets. She was nothing more than a woman who looked like someone he knew.
    Content with that thought, he took a step back. He’d already wasted too much time staring at her.
    “You need to get inside where it’s warm,” he ordered.
    “All right.”
    He waited for her to say more.
    She looked at him as if she was waiting for him to speak.
    The dog they’d pulled from the fire ran up to her.
    “Well, hello there, Miss Trudy-Bleu.” Smiling, she scooped the pug up in her arms. “I dare say you had an adventure tonight.”
    The pug licked her hands.
    “Fay—”
    Carp looked to his right. One of the dressmaker’s hands was over her daughter’s mouth, the other held her arm as if to stop her from walking over. And that was his cue to leave. He didn’t need any more matchmaking women in his life.
    Her voice was soft. So soft he almost didn’t hear her say, “Thank you for helping people.”
    He scratched the pug behind the ears. “We all need rescuing now and then,” he said quietly. When he looked up, the girl was watching him with a curious expression in her blue-gray eyes. Carp cleared his throat. “It doesn’t mean we’re weak.”
    She nodded and then frowned. Her lovely eyes focused on the sidewalk, her mind lost in her own thoughts.
    “Have a good evening.” Carp turned and had taken two steps when—
    “Then what does it mean?”
    He paused. His heartbeat increased. He opened his mouth to respond, but when no answer came, he closed it.
    She continued to scratch the pug’s neck. “I can accept the premise that we all need rescuing now and then. But if our need to be rescued is not because we are weak, then for what reason is it?”
    “You tell me,” he grumbled. Who was she to lecture him? Didn’t she know who he was?
    She let out a laugh. “The obvious answer is because we are weak or lost or caught—literally, figuratively, or spiritually—on the second floor of a building on fire. On the other hand,