Page 132 of Phoenix's Fire

"Fabric and relax?" I suggested.

Which made her smile. "Okay, follow me. My sewing room is back here."

Trailing after her, we walked down a narrow hall. On one side was a room packed with cloth of all kinds. On the other side was a room with a bed in it, but then she opened the door to the back and went outside again.

"Watch your step," she warned.

Just like the front of the house, the back had a pair of steps from the door to the grass. Lessa kept going to that little house I'd seen, but when she reached thedoor, she didn't knock. Instead, she pulled it open and headed inside, leaving it standing wide as an invitation for me to follow.

"This," she said as I made my way in, "is my sewing room."

I paused as I took in everything around me. Over there was a contraption made of metal. In the corner were a pair of chairs. Pads of paper held together with a spiral at the top had been left everywhere, and under those was cloth. So much cloth.

I saw blues and pinks. She had reds, yellows, and oranges. Greens and browns were tossed on another table. There was pitch black and pristine white - sometimes mixed together on the same fabric. Coarse, soft, and shiny, the weave came in all types. Solids, patterns, and even embroidery decorated the colors, and I didn't have the words for any of this.

"For clothes?" I finally asked.

"For clothes," she agreed. "Tell me, Meri. Do you know how to sew?"

"I do," I assured her. "I had to mend for my husband, and I'd started embroidering a blanket for the baby, but we didn't have anything like this."

"How about sewing machines?" she asked.

"A machine?"

So she patted the metal thing beside her. "That's what this is. There's another over there." Then she pulled out the chair beside her and gestured for me to take it. "If you'd like, I can show you how to work this thing."

"You think I can?"

"I do." She pushed some of those papers out of the way, then set a coaster on the exposed wood. "When I showed you the fabric samples, you seemed interested, and since I was going to make you a few things, I don't see why you can't help."

I claimed the chair, shifting a bit to get my belly positioned, then put my drink on the coaster. "I've never seen a machine before."

"It makes this a lot easier than doing it by hand." Then she moved to rest her hip on something hidden by a heap of fabric. "My English is good enough, right? You can understand me?"

"It's good," I promised. "You have an accent, but I'm getting used to that."

"Then I get to practice speaking, and you get to decide what kind of clothes you want." She smiled. "And after the baby, we can make even more."

"I don't have money," I admitted.

She waved that off. "I don't have friends who like clothes. Ayla said you do."

"I do," I admitted. "Gideon said it was vain and I should be ashamed, but I always liked pretty dresses."

"Your husband?"

I nodded.

"Is he dead?"

"I don't think so."

She grunted at that. "Did you want to get married?"

"I thought so." But I shrugged. "We had to get married, and Gideon was young, handsome, and a hunter." But I grimaced as I realized what I'd just said. "Downthere, we didn't know any better. Hunters were the men who were strong and brave. They were good providers and everyone respected them. To marry a hunter was..."

"Something to be proud of?" Lessa offered.

---