Nina was relieved that she would never have to see the gray-eyed man again. It had been embarrassing and humiliating enough, after falling on top of a wounded soldier, and running her fingers though his lovely, thick hair, to check for a head wound, to say good-bye, smile, and thank the man for saving her life. That was already in the past.
Today was warm and shining, a lovely day for a wedding. It fell to her to repair a wobbly table, as she mended or tended, her inn, tavern and ales. This should be easier, than keeping the Wheel and Hammer running, and should only take a minute. She pushed thoughts work, and of the shipyard and the man with the gray eyes, out of her way, took off her stockings to keep them from getting grass-stained, and climbed under the pie-table.
Alex was asked, by a sweet voice from under the tablecloth, to hold the planks of the table steady. The only thing he could see of her were pretty ankles, which were shoe-less and stocking-less. It had been day in the infirmary, and weeks in bed since the battle at Bunker's Hill, and he dearly wanted to see the rest of her. Politely, he averted his gaze, listening to the sound of silk skirts falling into place.
When she announced he might, he turned to greet the owner of those skirts. They must have jumped simultaneously, as Nina burst out laughing and Alex stared, shocked, into the aqua-eyes of the pretty blonde from the shipyard, had that only been yesterday?
IN A WORLD TURNED UPSIDE DOWN, THE ONLY RIGHT - MAY BE LOVE.