Saturday's Child by Dallas Schulze Read Free Book Online

the floor.
    "Just a bit of embroidery. Oh, Colin, some of the silks are so fine, you could surely pass an entire gown through a wedding band. They must have been spun by fairies, I think."
    Colin heard the touch of wistf ulness in her voice and felt a rush of guilt. Katie shouldn't be sewing fine gowns for others. She should have someone to sew them for her.
    "You've worked late every night this week," he said.
    "1 know, but the wedding is hardly more than a week away and there's so much left to be done. If I do well with this, perhaps Mrs. Ferriweather will consider me for the position of manager when Miss Lewis marries this summer."
    Colin dropped the newspaper and shoved his hands into the pockets of his dark trousers, staring at his sister broodingly. "Is that what you want? To manage a dress shop? I'd not thought you one of these females who yearns for a career."
    Katie set the chimney back on the lamp she'd just lit before turning to look at Colin. She knew her brother well enough to hear the tightness in his voice.
    "It would mean more money. Some of the girls say that Miss Lewis is getting as much as fifty dollars a month. The extra money would be nice."
    "Yes, it would be nice, but is that what you want to do with your life? Do you want to be some dried-up old spinster a few years from now? With nothing on your mind but planning other people's weddings and making dresses for other women?"
    Katie cocked her head, trying to judge what had put him in such a temper. "What I want and what I'm likely to get aren't necessarily the same. I'd like a home and family and should I be fortunate enough to meet a man who can give me those things, I'd not turn him away."
    She pushed the image of Quentin Sterling firmly from her mind before continuing. "But there's no such man in sight and I don't see anything wrong with planning for the future. Speaking of work, aren't you usually gone by now?"
    Colin looked as if he wanted to pursue the topic of her job, but after a moment, he shrugged and reached for the crisp linen collar and cuffs that lay on the table. Snapping them into place, he picked up his jacket and drew it on, buttoning it up the front.
    "I wanted to be sure that you were safe at home," he told her. "I don't like you walking these streets at night alone, Katie. 'Tisn't safe. I wish you'd let me come for you."
    "Don't be such a fuss, Colin. I'm a grown woman and well able to take care of myself." She crossed the room, taking the ends of his tie and looping it neatly, just as she'd so often done. "What kind of sense would it make for you to travel all that way just to walk me home? And I never know what time I'll be leaving. How would I let you know? Unless you're thinking we should install a telephone?"
    Her eyes sparkled with humor at the idea of a telephone in their tiny room. Why, the Sterlings themselves had only installed one a few months ago. She'd seen it sitting there in the tiny cubicle under the stairs. A miracle, it seemed, to think that you could sit at that box and talk with someone all the way across town.
    Colin didn't smile in answer to her gentle joke. His eyes were dark as he looked down at her, his responsibilities lying heavy on him. "It isn't right that you should be working all these hours, Katie. You hardly sleep at all, what with waiting up for me to get back at all hours of the night. Don't try to deny it," he told her when she opened her mouth. "I know you don't sleep till I'm home."
    "Tis a sister's place to worry," she told him lightly, giving a final pat to his tie before stepping back.
    "And it's my place to take care of you."
    "You do take care of me. You've given me a home."
    "Such as it is," he muttered disparagingly.
    With a sigh, Katie reached for his hat. There was no talking him out of such moods when they came on him. Their mother used to say it was the Irish in him that brought on these black depressions.
    "You'll never guess who I saw today." When he said nothing, she went on,