A Dream's Last Embers by Shawntelle Madison

Author:Shawntelle Madison
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Shawntelle Madison

4

Whitley

I wasn’t sure how long I’d dozed, but enough time had passed for my back to stiffen and my legs to go numb. I peered across my shop to find Carl staring out the window.

“What time is it?” I groaned as my hip protested from my position on the floor. “Did I sleep through opening the millinery?”

“We have worse problems than the time of day.” He jerked his chin to the outdoors.

Fat and thick snowflakes fell out of the sky to join their brethren in blocking the streets. Not a single well-to-do pedestrian braved the snowdrifts.

“Snow in October…” My breath fogged the window. “I have truly wronged someone in the heavens.”

Two policemen tried to plow through at snail’s pace. Another poor soul, a delivery boy carrying cake boxes, crashed face-first across the street. A delicate raspberry torte tumbled out of its box. Its gooey filling bled across the snow.

“Have faith. The weather may turn favorable.”

Carl’s smile should’ve reassured me, but as one hour passed, then two more, my faith wavered. Thick clouds obscured the sun, leaving a once vibrant street somber.

Carl donned his coat. “Let me see if I can learn when the road will be cleared.” He escaped out the back door into the alley.

Time passed, and all I could do was tidy the shop. Shifting my goods a millimeter to the left or right wouldn’t make them appear any more appealing. Mr. Chuffs brought me his ball again and again. Toss. Shift. Toss. Shift.

My chest grew tight as the clock on the wall reached two. Tears gathered in my eyes. I’d done everything expected of me. I’d toiled away to create this new order. I’d placed the price tags Mr. Heureux had instructed me to do.

Tomorrow, a horrible, heartless woman planned to toss my siblings into the streets. All we’d wanted—all I’d wished for—was them to feel secure. That old, yet familiar feeling, a hollowness in my chest and deep-set fog, smothered my senses. I was cast adrift again. Standing alone in the city with a couple pence in my pocket and no bed to rest my head.

The scrape of metal against cobblestone drew me to the window. To my surprise, I discovered Carl and the boys hard at work shoveling snow. Bit by bit, they cleared a path along the sidewalk from the end of the block to my front door.

My mouth parted and hope bubbled in my stomach. Would that be enough?

The clock ticked to two and Carl’s words yesterday slammed into me: The owner said he’d only hold the property for me until tomorrow at noon.

Which meant he’d given up his chance at a new start.

He’d done this for me. For my family.

Once Carl and the boys reached the door, three ladies materialized behind them. Carl yanked off his cap and stepped aside.

He blurted, “Afternoon, ladies.”

These highborn customers waltzed into the shop without a single snowflake on their skirts. The first young woman, by far the tallest of the three, wore a brocade-patterned, mink-lined coat. She cradled a yapping Affenpinscher that sent poor Mr.

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