Prudence

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Prudence Page 4

by Caroline Clemmons


  Mrs. Hunter motioned her inside. “Miss Lynch, how nice to see you. Please come in.”

  When she was seated in the cheerful parlor, she worked up her courage. “I’ve come to ask about the building on Main Street owned by you and your husband. Is it by chance for rent?”

  “Let me get him, dear. I’ll also order tea for us.” Mrs. Hunter left.

  Prudence wondered if she’d be able to afford whatever rent the Judge asked even if he was willing to let her use his former office. Not if he shared Riley’s opinion.

  The Judge came into the parlor with his wife. A servant behind them carried a tray.

  “Well, Miss Lynch. Nice to see you again. My good wife tells me you’re interested in renting my old office.”

  “I’ve already had requests for my assistance from people in town, especially women. I believe I could establish a successful career here even with a doctor in town.”

  Judge Hunter stroked his jaw. “Let’s see, I hadn’t really thought about renting the office. I’d planned to sell the building. What about me letting you have it for free for the first month? Then, you can pay me three dollars a month.”

  Prudence wanted to jump for joy and hug the judge’s neck. Instead, she offered a friendly smile. “Thank you, Judge Hunter. That’s more than fair.”

  After chatting over tea only long enough to be polite and get the key, Prudence left. She hurried to check over the inside of her new office. Judge Hunter had left furniture because he had no need for it.

  Shelves were perfect for setting her packaged remedies. The back room had water and a table for creating tinctures. A room with parlor-like furniture had a couch suitable for examining patients. The private office was perfect for consultations and record keeping. The foyer had a reception counter.

  Her head threatened to explode with so many ideas whirling inside. Excitement had her almost floating to Lydia’s.

  ***

  Riley watched as Jim Boyd carefully raised a new sign above the office across the street.

  He turned to his mother, who stood beside him on the front porch. “Looks as if Judge Hunter finally has an offer on his former office. Hope he’s sold to someone respectable.”

  “I’m sure the Judge would never let anyone have his building unless he thought they’d be a good addition to Tarnation.”

  His mother wore her smug smile and that worried Riley. “Do you know who’s moving in there?”

  She patted his arm. “Excuse me, I have a pie in the oven.” In a flash, she was inside the house.

  He returned to his office long enough to grab his medical bag. “Mother, I’m going to check on Mrs. Eppes.” The aroma of apple pie created a hungry rumble in his stomach.

  He walked slowly, hoping to read the sign, but it was covered by bunting. Soon enough, he’d be back and by then he could meet his new neighbor. Wait—there was no one new in town except the seven women who’d accompanied Lydia.

  He froze in his spot.

  No, she couldn’t, not across the street from him. He turned and hurried across the road. Disregarding the superstition of walking under a ladder causing bad luck, he ducked and walked into the office. Sure enough, there was Prudence setting out bottles and packets of this and that.

  He walked up to her. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  She barely glanced up. “I’m organizing my herbs, tinctures, and salves for my grand opening on Saturday.”

  He edged closer. “What are you playing at? Are you setting out to deliberately cause trouble with me?”

  She continued arranging things on shelves. “Certainly not. Why would you even say such a thing? In your opinion, which you’ve made known to me and probably most of the townspeople, you don’t believe we’re in the same business. Having me here shouldn’t have anything to do with you.”

  He fought for calm but it wouldn’t come. “It’s as if you’re. . . you’re saying you’re in the medical profession the same as I am.”

  She stopped messing about with the dratted shelves and faced him. “Dr. Gaston, I’ve never said that. I am interested in helping people in any way I can. If that alarms you, that’s your problem.”

  He leaned in so they were nose to nose. “You’re setting yourself up as a medical authority. That’s a big problem. You can do untold harm with your so-called healing.”

  Sparks shot from her blue eyes. “So can you. Do I tell you how to run your office and treat your patients? No.” She poked him in the chest as if punctuating her words. “So, Doctor Gaston. Butt. Out.”

  Fuming, Riley turned on his heel and strode from the building. He rushed to Mrs. Eppes’ home. Where did Prudence get off thinking she could do this to him?

  He’d come close to kissing her. Thank heavens he’d resisted. Who was he fooling? If he were being truthful, her anger stopped him. What was he going to do about Prudence?

  More importantly, what was he going to do about what being near her did to him?

  ***

  Prudence bubbled with happiness as she showed three of her new friends through her new office. “Back here is where women who need an exam can be secluded. For now they’ll have to use the couch. Across from that is my office so I can talk to people in private.”

  Lydia surveyed the space. “This is very nice. The light gray color works well for your purpose.”

  “Judge Hunter had decorated it this way, but I think it’s perfect. He left his desk and the couch and chairs. In back, there’s a stove, a sink, and a tiny table. I’ll use it for lunch but I’ll also have to use it to make new tinctures.”

  Lorraine drew a circle with the toe of her shoe. “The rug adds a nice touch. The entire set-up inspires confidence. I’ll make certain there’s an article in the paper about our newest business in town.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate your spreading the word. I’ve had inquiries since the first ball.”

  Rachel set down a bottle she’d examined. “That’s wonderful, Prudence. I’d say you’re on your way to being a successful midwife and folk healer.”

  Prudence clasped her hands in front of her. Having her friends’ encouragement meant the world to her. She’d longed for a group of like-minded allies and now she’d found them. They drifted toward the front and outside then she locked the door behind her.

  As she turned to follow the other women, she couldn’t keep her gaze from Riley’s office and home across the road. One part of her dream had come true. Why did she have to be greedy enough to wish for more?

  She smiled at the proper times as they walked back to Lydia’s for supper. Her head spun with plans for her business. She hadn’t met many women of the age to have children. Perhaps there were more in the rural areas near town.

  That presented the problem of a buggy and horse to reach them. Back in Virginia, she’d had her little cart and Sunny with a shed and small corral for him. Perhaps Mr. Dubicki and she could reach an agreement about her hiring one of his rigs. That meant more expenses.

  How long should she plan to live with Lydia? Was the office space large enough to house her? She might sleep on the couch and put the bedding away during the day.

  Eating out would be costly but she could live on soda crackers and cheese, canned beans, and fruit. The stove would keep her warm this winter, but she’d need to buy coal. Heavens, there were so many things she hadn’t taken into account.

  After supper was cleared away, Prudence asked to see Lydia in her office.

  Lydia chose one of the chairs in front of her desk. “You’ve found an excellent place to treat patients. Congratulations again.”

  Prudence sat beside her. “I was wondering if I should move out now that I have a place for my healing.”

  Lydia appeared aghast. “Definitely not. Please wait until your income is sufficient to support you or you marry. There’s plenty of time for finding a place to live later. It’s not as if I’m crowded here. With several of the girls married now, I’m feeling lonely already.”

  “Thank you for your
generosity and for bringing me here. I know I’ll love living in Tarnation. I’ve met very nice people since I’ve come.”

  “What are you working on now? I saw you sewing something.”

  “Granny and I always made quilts for the poor. Working on a quilt is soothing.”

  A wistful expression settled on Lydia’s face. “Oh, I haven’t made one since I left home.”

  “I regret Granny and my parents used up some pretty ones but they were made to keep us warm after all. If you want to see those I’ve saved, come upstairs and I’ll show you the special quilts I’ve brought.”

  Lydia rose. “I’d love to see them.”

  They climbed the stairs to the room Prudence and Lorraine shared.

  Lorraine sat writing on her lap desk. “Should I leave?”

  “Of course not. I’m going to show Lydia the quilts I brought with me. You’ll probably enjoy seeing them.” Prudence opened the trunk containing most of her personal memorabilia.

  She set the tray aside as the aroma rose of the lavender she’d put inside the trunk to keep the fabrics fresh. When she lifted the first quilt to remove it, coins fell to the floor.

  Gold coins.

  Stunned, Prudence sat on the floor and gathered the odd-appearing money. “Granny’s gold. She really did have it all along.”

  Lydia sat in the chair. “What do you mean?”

  Prudence could only shake her head in disbelief. Why had her beloved Granny kept this from her? “The people in our little village kept asking about Granny’s gold. I didn’t believe there was any.”

  She closed her eyes in dismay. “Dear heavens, you can’t imagine the abject poverty of our lives. We had a dirt floor. Not until my parents married did the cabin have water.”

  “Where do you think the gold came from?” Lorraine picked up a coin and examined it. “This is French. The date is…” She turned the metal to the light. “Ah, 1757. During the French and Indian War, no doubt.”

  Lydia pointed to the quilt. “There’s a piece of paper. Perhaps that’s an explanation.”

  Prudence’s fingers trembled as she reached for the note. She recognized her grandmother’s writing even though the words were shakily scrawled.

  Dear Pru,

  I know you’re wondering why I kept the secret and you may even be angry with me. Please don’t be. We would have had to leave here to change these French coins into current money. I know you’ll find it hard to believe, but I love this place where your grandfather and I were so happy and where your sweet mother was born and died. How could I leave them?

  During the French and Indian War, your great-great grandfather saw a French officer bury this gold. From the little French Great Grandpa spoke, he learned the soldier intended to report it stolen and then return for it later. Our kin dug it up and put a jug of whisky in its place. He thought it a good joke on the dishonest soldier. I think so too.

  But then what was he to do with the gold? He should have turned it over to the British, but by then they had already levied stiff taxes against the colonists. Because of that, he had no loyalty to either side in the conflict.

  All these years, it’s been our family’s secret curse. My father found the coins when he was six and showed one to a friend. His father said that was the only one he had and he’d found it on a battlefield nearby. That’s where the story started that we had gold and it’s pestered us ever since.

  This is how I would have paid for your mother or you to go to school in Richmond. Just as well you didn’t go because you would have been there when the city was leveled to rubble. I had a good education and traveled, thanks to the man who found the gold. My grandfather was a man of property at the time, but he lost it through no fault of his own. That’s a longer story than I have strength to write.

  This is to use for your future, my darling Pru. Take it to a banker you trust to give you honest exchange. There should be enough to last you the rest of your life or to use as you see fit.

  I couldn’t love you more or be prouder of the woman you’ve become. Bless you in your new life.

  Your loving Granny

  Prudence hugged the quilt to her, buried her face in its folds, and sobbed. Lorraine and Lydia sat on the floor beside her and hugged her but let her cry. Her heart ached for what Granny had endured needlessly.

  When she stopped, she breathed in heaving gasps. “We were so poor, you simply have no idea. Granny never turned anyone away and most bartered for care if they paid anything.”

  She pulled at her skirts. “You’ve seen my dresses, which are better than those of Granny’s.”

  Lorraine laid a hand on Prudence’s hair. “She obviously loved you a great deal. She sounds as if she was happy.”

  Prudence considered her life with Granny. “I suppose she was. We didn’t need much, but there are so many things that would have made her life easier. She considered herself living in luxury when my father put in a sink and managed to get water into the house.”

  Lydia patted Prudence’s shoulder. “If that’s how she grew up, then I suppose it was luxury.”

  Prudence shook her head. “You heard what I read. She had been educated well and traveled. She knew the difference. I just don’t understand what happened.”

  Lorraine took Prudence’s hand. “I don’t suppose you’ll ever know the entire story. If you have your ancestor’s names, perhaps you can research to see what you learn.”

  “The names are in the family Bible and go back six generations. Maybe when I’m settled I’ll investigate their history.”

  Lydia spread out the quilt of shades of blue. “One thing is for certain, whoever quilted this was an artist.”

  Prudence wiped the tears from her face and managed a small smile. “Mama made this one. She wasn’t as good as Granny, but I think this is beautiful. Mama was, too.”

  “Let’s look at the others.” Lorraine unrolled another, this one in greens and white. “My, this is even prettier.”

  Prudence ran a hand lovingly across the design. “Granny sewed this one just after Mama and Papa died. I think it was Granny’s way of coping with her grief.”

  She took out the final quilt in that trunk. “Her mother—my great-grandmother—made this one, but it’s not so pretty.”

  Prudence unrolled the now delicate fabric. “It was made from scraps of the family’s clothes. Apparently, they wore drab, ugly colors but the workmanship is fine.”

  She stood and opened the other trunk. “This first is one Granny and I made together. Mama made the wedding ring one for my hope chest.” She ran her fingers over the multicolored and interlocking circles, wishing Mama knew how well she was doing. Perhaps she did.

  “This last one Granny made when I was small. I think she had me in mind because of all the pink.”

  Lydia stood. “How lucky you are to have so much of your family history. I wonder if my sister saved any of our family quilts she might part with. I’m going to write and ask her. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

  When they were alone, Lorraine helped re-roll the quilts. “What are you going to do with the money?”

  “I’m too shocked now to make a rational decision. I suppose I’ll ask Lydia if Bart Tucker is trustworthy. He must be or she wouldn’t have included him in the receptions but I want to be certain. Then I’ll deposit the coins in the bank until I decide what to do.” She dropped the gold into the trunk’s tray and closed the lid.

  Lorraine readied for bed. “Odd how not having money can be a curse but having it can be one also. There must be a happy medium.”

  “I hope we can discover what it is, don’t you? I just want a home and family and to be able to carry on my work.” Crying had left her exhausted emotionally and physically. She quickly changed into her night gown and climbed into bed.

  “Me, too. Prudence, we simply must make those two stubborn men see the error of their ways.”

  “I don’t see that happening for me. I hope you have more success.” Ready to break out in tears again, Pruden
ce burrowed her head into her pillow.

  ***

  Monday afternoon, Riley watched Dobber Hankins use one arm to lift a chair over his head and prove he’d recovered.

  “See, doc. The arm aches, but I can use it now. You did a great job setting the break.”

  “Nice to see you active again but don’t overdo exercising that arm for awhile. You have to be careful now that you’re going to be a father. Ola Mae and your baby need you in one piece.”

  Ola Mae walked with her hands on her protruding stomach. “That’s what I’ve been telling him. He won’t listen to me but I hope he’ll take heed of what you say.”

  “Are you feeling well? You look ready to deliver any day now. Sure wish you’d have come in or let me examine you and make sure you’re all right.”

  “We can’t go traipsing into town very often. I know you give us credit, but Dobber has to do his chores every day no matter what so leaving makes things hard for him.”

  Her husband put his hands on his hips. “Now, Ola Mae, I told you we can go to the doctor any time you need.”

  Ignoring her husband, Ola Mae said, “I hope this baby comes soon. I can’t even see my toes. Feels like I’m carrying an elephant around instead of a wee baby.”

  Riley motioned the barefoot, about-to-be mom to sit. “I’ll take a listen.” Before she could protest, he added, “Since I’m already here there wouldn’t be a charge.”

  He listened to the woman’s stomach, leaned back, then bent do listen again. “You’re carrying twins, Ola Mae. Congratulations.”

  Dobber rushed to hug his wife’s shoulders. “Twins? I’d better make another cradle.”

  Ola Mae rubbed her stomach. “No wonder I’m as big as a barn. Dear me, how will I ever manage twins?”

  Riley snapped his medical bag closed. “You’ll manage. I’m sure you two will make good parents no matter how many children you have.”

  “Thank you, Doc, but we only want two.” Dobber shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Uh, you’ll put this on our tab, right?”

  “If you say so. I’ll check on you two in a few days, Ola Mae, to make sure you’re doing well.” He left the couple contemplating their unexpected bonus baby.

 

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