The Wishing Hour

Wishing -

Fifteen

Standing only half a foot taller than me, with flaming red hair and sea green eyes, dressed in a belted, bright fuchsia, floral ankle-length dress, Rachael Walton is a breath of fresh air with an underlying tornado attached. She is bold, beautiful and bubbly, with a major flair for fashion, and I can see why expectant mothers flock to her shop. Every article of clothing she designs is a masterpiece and no two pieces of clothing are the same. Shopping at Rachael's means knowing you are getting the best quality for a more than fair price. Not to mention she is a joy to be around. I can definitely understand why she and Sarah are such good friends.

Knowing what I do about her personal life, I am impressed with her effervescent personality, her wit and charm. Before coming to Rachael's shop, Sarah shared a little about her friend with me. Having lost her husband in battle with the enemy on the surface, she has been alone for over a hundred years, which I find amazing. Her mate bravely gave his life while protecting my ancestors so my bloodline would continue and I could be born. Because of this, I felt an immediate kinship with the woman, as well as a great sense of gratitude for her sacrifice. Her parents have been living on the surface for the past fifty years but have recently returned. She had missed them and is glad they are back.

In between indulging in peppermint tea and mini cream puffs, I try on colorful feminine tunics, coordinating elastic-waist slacks, and adjustable-waist gowns, as well as one-of-a-kind sandals and slippers. I instantly fall in love with each outfit I try and purchase them all.

“You are a very talented lady, Rachael,” I say as she folds my purchases and places them in four large shopping bags.

“Well, thank you, dear, but you make the outfits beautiful.”

I smile, blushing slightly. “Thank you. I'm looking forward to wearing your masterpieces.”

“And I am looking forward to hearing of your husband's reaction once he sees you in them.” She leans close and whispers conspiratorially, yet loud enough for Sarah to hear, “Between you and me, he won't be able to keep his hands off you.”

Sarah chuckles. “He already can't do that!”

The two women laugh and I join them, still blushing furiously. Sarah and I each take two bags. “Thank you again,” I say to Rachael as she walks us to the door.

“You're very welcome. Come back and see me soon.”

“I will.”

* * *

Sebastian enters the closet just as I finish putting everything away, and he peruses my new wardrobe. “I'm looking forward to seeing you in these.”

“Well, you won't have long to wait. Rachael told me you won't be able to keep your hands off me when you see me in these outfits, and your mother assured her that you can't keep them off off me now.”

Sebastian's eyes widen and he laughs. “That's Mother for you. She speaks her mind.” He pulls me close. “But she is always truthful.”

“I'm surprised she didn't include me as well. It's pretty hard for me to keep my hands off you.”

“And for that I am grateful.”He laughs, kissing my neck. “It's all my father's fault. I take after him.”

“I can believe that. And speaking of your father, what's the story with him hiding the town clock?”

“My father will have my head for this,” he says with a sly smile. “But since you are family, you are entitled to know his deep dark secret.”