Reluctantly, Katie picked up her scissors, still hesitant about ruining a garment as fine as the one the stranger wore.
"I assure you it's not going to leave me without clothing," he said quietly.
She met his eyes, finding a certain understanding there, as if he knew that clothing was a precious commodity in her world. Her pale skin flushed pink at the thought that this man saw her poverty and perhaps pitied her for it.
With a quick movement, she split the sleeve up the side, exposing the white silk of his shirt. She didn't even mention that the shirt too could be repaired but disposed of it as efficiently as she had the jacket. Her movements gentled as she eased the fabric away from the deep slash in the upper arm.
Studying the wound, Katie tried not to notice the muscles that rippled under the golden skin she'd bared, more muscles than seemed right for a man who wore silk hats and expensively tailored evening clothes.
"It should have a stitch or two to make sure that it heals properly. If you'll trust me to do the job, I'll see to it."
She was sponging the blood from around the wound as she spoke, her light touch contrasting with the determined briskness of her words. When the stranger didn't say anything, she reluctantly shifted her eyes to his face. He was looking at her hair, which spilled in fiery disarray across her shoulders.
"Your hair is the most beautiful color I've ever seen, though I'm sure you think it forward of me to mention it."
Katie's cheeks flushed. "I do think it forward of you," she said bluntly. "Will you be wanting me to tend to your arm or not?"
He shifted his gaze from her hair to her face, not sparing even a glance for the gash in his arm. "Yes, please."
He said if softly, sweetly, like a child requesting a treat before supper. Hastily, Katie bent her head over her sewing box, not looking up again until she had a threaded needle in hand.
"You must hold still while I set the stitches. Tis likely to hurt a bit," she warned him as she motioned to Colin to shift the light closer. Lifting the chimney off, she held the needle over the flame.
"I shall be steady as a rock. If I may be completely honest, I do believe I have imbibed enough liquor this past night to prevent any but the greatest of pains from bothering me. Please, do not concern yourself."
Though Katie didn't doubt that he'd had enough liquor to numb his senses, she nibbled on her lower lip as she drew the edges of the wound together and set the first stitch. It wasn't the first time she'd applied her skills with a needle to the mending of a human being. Small injuries were common enough in the theater but money was not. So theater people were inclined to do for themselves rather than call a doctor.
True to his word, the stranger didn't flinch, though he sucked in his breath sharply a time or two. Katie didn't dare look at his face as she carefully stitched the wound closed.
No one said a word until she'd set the last stitch and clipped the thread. She sat back on her heels, studying the work a moment before nodding her head.
"With a little care, you should do. 'Twould be best if you tried not to do any heavy lifting with that arm for a week or two, just long enough to give the flesh time to knit solid."
The man turned his head to look at his arm, the neat row of stitches slashing across the tanned skin.
"You've done a fine job. And I thank you for it."
"It would be better thanks if you'd stay out of dark alleys where trouble is likely to seek a man out."
"You're quite right. If it hadn't been for your brother, I've no doubt that I'd have been beyond the need for patching. I thank you both." He frowned suddenly, watching as Katie put away her needle and scissors. "I don't even know who I'm thanking."
Katie rose, shaking out the skirts of her wrapper and stepping back as the stranger stood up. Odd, how he seemed to dominate the room.
"I'm Colin McBride and this is my sister, Katie." Colin made the introduction reluctantly.
"I assure you it's not going to leave me without clothing," he said quietly.
She met his eyes, finding a certain understanding there, as if he knew that clothing was a precious commodity in her world. Her pale skin flushed pink at the thought that this man saw her poverty and perhaps pitied her for it.
With a quick movement, she split the sleeve up the side, exposing the white silk of his shirt. She didn't even mention that the shirt too could be repaired but disposed of it as efficiently as she had the jacket. Her movements gentled as she eased the fabric away from the deep slash in the upper arm.
Studying the wound, Katie tried not to notice the muscles that rippled under the golden skin she'd bared, more muscles than seemed right for a man who wore silk hats and expensively tailored evening clothes.
"It should have a stitch or two to make sure that it heals properly. If you'll trust me to do the job, I'll see to it."
She was sponging the blood from around the wound as she spoke, her light touch contrasting with the determined briskness of her words. When the stranger didn't say anything, she reluctantly shifted her eyes to his face. He was looking at her hair, which spilled in fiery disarray across her shoulders.
"Your hair is the most beautiful color I've ever seen, though I'm sure you think it forward of me to mention it."
Katie's cheeks flushed. "I do think it forward of you," she said bluntly. "Will you be wanting me to tend to your arm or not?"
He shifted his gaze from her hair to her face, not sparing even a glance for the gash in his arm. "Yes, please."
He said if softly, sweetly, like a child requesting a treat before supper. Hastily, Katie bent her head over her sewing box, not looking up again until she had a threaded needle in hand.
"You must hold still while I set the stitches. Tis likely to hurt a bit," she warned him as she motioned to Colin to shift the light closer. Lifting the chimney off, she held the needle over the flame.
"I shall be steady as a rock. If I may be completely honest, I do believe I have imbibed enough liquor this past night to prevent any but the greatest of pains from bothering me. Please, do not concern yourself."
Though Katie didn't doubt that he'd had enough liquor to numb his senses, she nibbled on her lower lip as she drew the edges of the wound together and set the first stitch. It wasn't the first time she'd applied her skills with a needle to the mending of a human being. Small injuries were common enough in the theater but money was not. So theater people were inclined to do for themselves rather than call a doctor.
True to his word, the stranger didn't flinch, though he sucked in his breath sharply a time or two. Katie didn't dare look at his face as she carefully stitched the wound closed.
No one said a word until she'd set the last stitch and clipped the thread. She sat back on her heels, studying the work a moment before nodding her head.
"With a little care, you should do. 'Twould be best if you tried not to do any heavy lifting with that arm for a week or two, just long enough to give the flesh time to knit solid."
The man turned his head to look at his arm, the neat row of stitches slashing across the tanned skin.
"You've done a fine job. And I thank you for it."
"It would be better thanks if you'd stay out of dark alleys where trouble is likely to seek a man out."
"You're quite right. If it hadn't been for your brother, I've no doubt that I'd have been beyond the need for patching. I thank you both." He frowned suddenly, watching as Katie put away her needle and scissors. "I don't even know who I'm thanking."
Katie rose, shaking out the skirts of her wrapper and stepping back as the stranger stood up. Odd, how he seemed to dominate the room.
"I'm Colin McBride and this is my sister, Katie." Colin made the introduction reluctantly.
Similar Books
To Catch a Treat
Linda O. Johnston
Lorik The Protector (Lorik Trilogy)
Toby Neighbors
Hunting Wolf: Black Mesa Wolves #3
J.K. Harper
The Odin Mission
James Holland
Burial
Graham Masterton
Furyous Ink
Saranna DeWylde
Demonkeepers
Jessica Andersen
When Hell Freezes Over
Darrien Lee
