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

spent their time cleaning a hotel room like Félicie had—alone. Except for church on Sundays, her interaction with men—really, with people—was limited.
    Both men looked at her in expectation of a response.
    Félicie pasted on a smile. When in doubt, smile.
    “Seth, let go of her,” repeated Captain Yeary.
    “Alas, my dear.” Sergeant Beaufoy raised her hand to his lips. “Until tomorrow.”
    “Tomorrow?” she echoed, tightening her coat around her chest.
    “The Leap Year Day festival. I’ll look for you at the concert in the park.”
    Oh. That. The last Leap Year Day festival she attended had been in the previous millennium—1892, to be precise. Back when her twelve-year-old self still believed in fairies, good luck, and love conquering all. Nothing in the world could convince her to attend tomorrow’s festival.
    Félicie indented the corner of her mouth. “You may look for me.” There. She could be coy.
    “Yes, indeed I will.” After a slap to Captain Yeary’s shoulder, Sergeant Beaufoy walked off.
    “It was nice speaking with you,” Félicie said to be polite. “To you both. I shall leave now.”
    Captain Yeary stepped forward.
    Félicie stepped back...and then stepped again to put even more distance between them.
    His gloved-hand grabbed her arm. “Wrong way.”
    Félicie said nothing as he gently pulled her out of the middle of the street. She hurried to keep pace with him. She did, however, noticed the number of people looking their way. She could only imagine what they were thinking: There goes our Carp gallantly rescuing another stray. Another orphan.
    Another cast-off.
    “I am not a lost pet needing rescue,” she muttered.
    His hand readjusted its hold on her. He kept walking, giving no indication of having heard her. If he had, he clearly felt her comment needed no response. Best course of action was to say as little as possible to this man.
    Félicie looked to where his grip encircled her forearm. Even if she tried to free herself, she knew he would hold on as long as he felt necessary. How could she know that? How? She did not know him. She did not know his character. She only knew what she had heard about him and how she had seen people at church adore him. So much was hero worship. She did her best to keep her distance, so no one would take her for being a part of the fawning crowd.
    Why did everyone think he was a prince among men? He was just a man. Flawed, human, and alone like everyone else.
     
    ~***~
     
    Move her to safety—that was his only objective. Only. Carp stopped on the sidewalk, under a glowing street lamp near the ambulance. Although stunned at how frail she felt, he released her arm. If she had excess fat anywhere on her body, he’d be shocked. His gaze fell to the stitching on her sleeve. Her brown coat had seen better days. No hat, no gloves. Good thing they were experiencing a mild Kansas winter. ’Course, he’d known it to snow here in March.
    “Carp!” Leland waved him back to engine, signaling the mopping up was finished.
    With the fire out and the cause confirmed an electrical short, his job was done. Here at least. He still had to return to the station and fill out paperwork. Miss Cora and Miss Sadie had dinner waiting for him at home. They’d insist he have a good night’s sleep so he’d be refreshed for the festival.
    After all, he was the guest of honor.
    Carp inclined his head to where the dressmaker stood talking with her daughter. “Your friends—they’ll need somewhere to stay for the night, if you know of a place.”
    Her troubled gaze shifted to them. “I do.” She paused. “There was no need for you to walk me over here. You could have pointed out where they were,” she said in a voice as smooth as it was confident. He’d wager she enjoyed reading aloud, even if she was only reading to herself, because she liked to hear the preciseness of the words. She had the kind of voice that compelled people to listen.
    Best guess, she was a lady