Page 78 of The School Mistress (Emerson Pass Historicals 1)

Her amber eyes sparkled at me. “I would suggest the dark green. It’ll contrast nicely with her skin.” She moved the ladder stored behind the counter over to the spot where the green wool was stacked on a top shelf. “She’ll need a liner, though. Otherwise the wool will scratch.”

“Fine, whatever you think is best,” I said as I wandered over to a glass shelf displaying various styles of gloves.

Martha came in from the back room. “Mother, do you need help?”

Mrs. Johnson said yes, and would she please measure out five yards of the green wool as well as the liner fabric.

“I’ll take a pair of these as well.” I tapped the glass shelf displaying a pair of long white gloves. “And do you have any wool stockings?”

“It must be very cold in England,” Mrs. Johnson said from behind me.

“Frigid. Like this,” I said.

“I’d always heard England was rainy but mild.” Mrs. Johnson opened the display case for the gloves.

“Can be,” I said.

With a knowing smile planted on her face, she pulled out a pad and started to write up a receipt for my items. Next to her, Martha had measured and cut the wool and was now rolling it into a cylinder.

“Don’t go to too much trouble,” I said to Martha. “I’m taking it straight over to the tailor’s shop.”

“He’s having a coat made for his sister,” Mrs. Johnson said. “Isn’t that sweet?”

Martha clearly wasn’t as savvy as her mother when it came to matters of the heart. She simply gave me the bland, benign smile young people gave their elders and went back to measuring the lining.

“Martha and Elsa are skating this afternoon,” Mrs. Johnson said.

“Will Josephine and Poppy be able to come?” Martha asked.

Over the last few years, skating parties on Saturday afternoons had become a tradition. If the weather permitted, families and young people alike came out to skate. The town’s fiddler provided music, and Mrs. Johnson made and sold popcorn for a penny a bag.

“I’ll bring them all in later,” I said.

Mrs. Johnson pointed to a shelf where shiny new Barney & Berry clamp-on skates were displayed. “It would be a shame if our new teacher had to watch while the rest of you skate.”

I chuckled. She was right. We couldn’t leave Quinn out of the fun. “I’m not sure she knows how.”

“She’ll have to learn then,” Martha said. “Skating parties are the best part of winter, other than Christmas.”

“I don’t know her size, though.”

Mrs. Johnson came out from behind her counter to join me. She picked a pair from the middle of the shelf. “I’d say these should do.”

“How do you know?” I asked.

“We sell a lot of boots and shoes,” Mrs. Johnson said. “I can judge the size in my sleep.”

Mrs. Johnson, with her uncanny sales ability, must have sensed my next request. “Does your sister need a pair of boots?” she asked.

“Mrs. Johnson, it’s no wonder your husband’s such a successful businessman.”

Her expression remained merry. She wasn’t serious like her daughter Martha, who appeared to take after the stoic Mr. Johnson. “I have no idea what you mean, Lord Barnes.”

“I’ll take a pair in the same size as the skates. My sister and Miss Cooper have a lot in common.”

“Indeed.” Mrs. Johnson’s skirts made a swishing sound as she crossed over to the boot shelf. “We’ve just gotten these in from back east. Practical yet pretty.”

The boots were black patent leather with dainty buttons up the side. I held one in my hand, inspecting the quality of the leather and sturdiness of the one-inch heel. We couldn’t have Miss Cooper slipping and hurting herself.