Heart of the Storm
“She rolled the pant cuffs up four times, shoved back the black cotton shirtsleeves and cinched the waistband with a length of rope.
Timothy was a head shorter than Ben, and still the clothes swallowed her. Her black eye had all but faded but she still looked as rough as the sailors she’d seen on the docks. No matter how many times she fussed with the shirt and pants, there seemed no way to make herself look presentable.
She ran her fingers through her waist-length hair, trying her best to work ...out the knots. Without a comb, the task was impossible. In the end, she settled for a loose braid tied with a strand of twine.
She felt self-conscious. Since she’d been in the nursery, she’d always been expected to present herself as a well-dressed lady. Peter had been particularly adamant that she dress well at all times. Logically she understood that she was enduring extenuating circumstances. Runaway, shipwrecked with no clothes to her name, it was a miracle she’d survived. She should be grateful for what she had.MoreLess
Timothy was a head shorter than Ben, and still the clothes swallowed her. Her black eye had all but faded but she still looked as rough as the sailors she’d seen on the docks. No matter how many times she fussed with the shirt and pants, there seemed no way to make herself look presentable.
She ran her fingers through her waist-length hair, trying her best to work ...out the knots. Without a comb, the task was impossible. In the end, she settled for a loose braid tied with a strand of twine.
She felt self-conscious. Since she’d been in the nursery, she’d always been expected to present herself as a well-dressed lady. Peter had been particularly adamant that she dress well at all times. Logically she understood that she was enduring extenuating circumstances. Runaway, shipwrecked with no clothes to her name, it was a miracle she’d survived. She should be grateful for what she had.MoreLess
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