Dear Lord, give me wisdom.
“Forgive me. My daughter and son-in-law are expecting again. It’s their fifth. My mind just wanders over to the subject of babies.”
Prudence cleared her throat. “It would be nice to have a child one day.”
Urias balled a fist under the table, then opened and closed it again and again.
“They are wonderful, but they are a handful,” Mrs. Campbell went on.
Had Prudence offered to come on this trip hoping he’d share the bedroll with her? The more he thought of it, the angrier he became.
Urias forced down his meal as fast as he could. He needed to get out of here, away from Prudence, and away from the trap that was squeezing the life out of him. He’d married her for Katherine’s sake. She’d married him for herself. All the noble things he’d begun to think and feel about Prudence were all based on lies. She wasn’t sacrificing for a friend. She was trying to con him and have him be the father of her child.
Mrs. Campbell finished her ramblings. Urias didn’t know what she had said, nor was he in the frame of mind to care. His plate nearly cleaned, he pushed it away. “Wonderful meal, ladies. If you’ll forgive me, I have a few more things to do in the barn.” He turned to Prudence. “Go on to bed without me.”
The chair scraped the floor as he stood up. “Thank you again for your hospitality, Mrs. Campbell.”
“Urias, can’t it wait until morning?”
Prudence got up and walked over to him. She placed her hand on his forearm and whispered, “It’s not what you’re thinking.”
He wanted to believe her; he really did. But so much had happened in the past week, how could he know for sure? Time, he answered himself. Time would certainly reveal if Prudence was with child.
“Urias,” Prudence said in full voice, “you haven’t slept. You need your rest.”
Urias felt the throbbing headache he’d been ignoring for hours. Prudence was right. He needed to sleep.
“Very well. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll retire for the evening.”
Mrs. Campbell smiled. “You two go ahead. I’ll take care of the dinner dishes.”
Prudence’s eyes watered with tears.
Doesn’t the woman know how to turn them off?
“I’ll show you our room,” Prudence said, her words soft and kind, so contrary to the thoughts he’d been thinking about her for the past few minutes.
Silently, he followed her up the stairs. When they entered the room, she turned and shut the door. “You’re sleeping on the bed. I won’t hear of anything else. I’ll sleep on the floor.” She wagged her finger at him. “If you say one word of objection, I’ll scream, and you’ll have some serious explaining to do to Mrs. Campbell.”
“What’s to explain? You’re my wife. My pregnant wife, I might add.”
“I am not. Don’t you go believing Mrs. Campbell’s speculations, Urias O’Leary. I’ve not”—she pointed to the bed—“with a man, ever, and I’m not about to start tonight. So get your mind out of the pig slop and get to bed before I really say what’s on my mind. I’m going downstairs to help Mrs. Campbell with the dishes. I best find you sound asleep when I return.”
Urias let out a strangled chuckle.
“What?”
“You’re beautiful when you’re angry.”
“Ugh.” She pushed him backward, and he landed on the bed. She stomped out of the room and down the stairs.
Urias sat up, unbuttoned his shirt, undressed, washed from the basin near the bed, and put on the clean nightshirt Mrs. Campbell provided. He laid back on the bed and thought over the dinner conversation, then the few moments alone with Prudence. A real marriage with her wouldn’t be boring.
Thump. Glass shattered. A scream bolted Urias out of the bed.
Chapter 8
Pain seared her skin. Prudence held her hand over the wound.
“Urias,” Mrs. Campbell called out, “come quick!”
“I’m here.” Urias stood in the doorway of the kitchen in an oversized nightshirt and bare feet.
“What happened?”
Tears threatened to fall. She wouldn’t give in to them. Urias already felt she was slowing him down and wanted to leave her here.
“I don’t know.”
“It was the strangest thing. We were drying the dishes, and the glass in her hand just shattered,” Mrs. Campbell offered.
“Let me see.” Urias carefully stepped around the bits of broken glass scattered on the floor.
Prudence looked up at Urias. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”
“Show me anyway, please.”
Mrs. Campbell took a broom from the closet. “Watch your step.” She swept the glass from behind Prudence. “Lift her up and carry her out of here,” Mrs. Campbell ordered.
He lifted her in his arms. His touch was loving—unlike his words earlier.
“This is getting to be a habit.”
“I haven’t cut myself before.”
“No, I meant the carrying you part.”
“Oh.” Prudence could feel her face flush.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have said those things.”
Prudence trembled in his arms. He set her in the same overstuffed chair in the living room. “Let me get a lantern to look at that cut.”
Prudence looked down at her arm. Her fingers were lined with blood. How deep is it? She fought off the desire to check and kept the pressure on the wound. Her hand was starting to throb from the lack of circulation by her applied pressure. Prudence closed her eyes. The sight of blood didn’t help her already uneasy stomach. She always had a fairly weak stomach when it came to certain things.
Urias came in with his hands full. In one hand he had a lantern, in the other, clean cloths and a roll of thin cotton fabric, perfect for dressing wounds. He also carried a bowl with water in the crook of his arm. He placed the lantern on a table and sat down on a stool beside her. “Let me see.”
Prudence lifted her hand and looked at the wound for the first time. Her stomach flipped, and a cold sweat swept over her body. The gash was at least three inches long, and she could see bits of fat and muscle. Her stomach rolled again.
“Look away before you pass out on me,” Urias ordered. “Please,” he said, softening his tone.
She obeyed and looked out the window to the night sky.
“I need to flush the wound before I can bandage it. It should be stitched up. I’ll do what I can.”
Mrs. Campbell came in. “How is it?”
“Deep, but not too bad. About three inches long.”
“I’ll get my sewing kit.” Mrs. Campbell marched out of the living room.
“I don’t have anything to numb the wound. When she starts sewing, it will hurt. I’ll hold your arm still for her. Are you all right?”
Prudence bit her lower lip and nodded.
Urias held a clean cloth down on the wound. “You’ll do fine. If you can walk on those feet of yours, you should be able to put up with Mrs. Campbell sewing you up.”
“Is that supposed to encourage me?” Prudence asked.
“Pay him no never mind. It will hurt like a possum with its tail on fire, but it will heal faster.”
Urias got up from the stool and offered it to Mrs. Campbell. He stood between her and Mrs. Campbell and got ready to hold Prudence’s arm tight.
Mrs. Campbell positioned both of them, then warned Prudence, “Hold your husband’s thigh real tight. When the needle hurts, simply tighten your grasp on Urias’s thigh. If he can put up with the pain you’re giving him, then you’re doing fine.”
Prudence wasn’t too sure how that would be the case, but she did as she was ordered and reached around Urias’s thigh. It was firm and muscular, much the way she imagined it would be. Embarrassed by her own wayward thoughts, she felt grateful that neither Mrs. Campbell nor Urias could see her face.
“I’m going to begin now,” Mrs. Campbell said and pushed the needle into Prudence’s arm. She bored her finge
rtips into Urias’s leg.
“How many stitches do you think it will take?” Urias asked, his voice strained.
“Far more than I’ll put in.”
Prudence lessened her grip on Urias. He didn’t flinch once the entire time Mrs. Campbell stitched up her wound.
“I’ll wrap it up,” Urias offered.
“Give it a lot of padding. There will be some more bleeding through the night. Change it first thing in the morning, then you can tighten it a bit more.”
“Yes ma’am. Thank you.” Urias resumed his position on the stool.
“Thank you, Mrs. Campbell. I’m sorry about the glass.”
“Fiddlesticks, dear. I’m sorry you were injured.”
“Mrs. Campbell, if it’s all right with you, I’ll sleep in another room tonight. Prudence will need the full bed to stretch out her arm.”
Mrs. Campbell nodded. “In the middle room, there’s a small path to the bed through the crates. Just watch your step.”
“Thank you.” Urias wrapped the cotton strips around Prudence’s arm.
Once Mrs. Campbell was in the kitchen, Prudence spoke up. “At least neither of us will be on the floor tonight. Thank you.”
“Go to bed, Prudence. I’ll see you in the morning.” Urias walked over to the door, put on his boots, and stepped out.
What have I done now?
Urias’s leg throbbed. He had to get some cold water on it right away. And well water would be the coldest. Ice would be best, but there was none to be found. Even if there was, he wouldn’t use it on a wound. How long are that woman’s fingernails, Lord? He’d almost given in to screaming but noticed Mrs. Campbell was on her last stitch. Outside, he limped to the well. He didn’t think she’d broken the skin, but it sure felt like hot pokers stabbing him now. With his luck, he’d be black and blue in the morning.
Urias pumped until a cool stream of water poured into the small bucket at the end of the spigot. He placed the wad of cotton linen he’d brought out with him into the water, then placed it on his throbbing leg.
Before the torture, Prudence’s hands had sent a feeling through him that seemed foreign and yet familiar. The contact, for a moment, seemed to almost make him feel … feel what? What was the feeling he had experienced? Completeness? But how could there be oneness with a forced marriage? It wasn’t a sanctioned marriage. It couldn’t be. God wouldn’t honor a marriage of this sort.
The Bible story of Esther came to mind. God honored Esther and her marriage to the king, even though he wasn’t Jewish. The circumstances of her training to be his wife and of the pagan rituals involved did not honor God, yet God honored Esther and her marriage to the king.
Urias removed the warming cloth and placed it back in the bucket of cool water.
God may have honored that marriage because He had a greater purpose—the salvation of the Jews from their treatment in that country. Urias’s marriage was for a noble purpose—the saving of his sister from her bondage, but … could God honor their marriage?
Urias shook the thought off as he placed the cold cloth back on his thigh. When it warmed again, he cooled it again and placed it on his forehead rather than his thigh. His head throbbed from the lack of sleep. He needed to get to bed and recover from the trip, emotional fatigue, and the tremendous burden he’d accepted for the sake of his sister. “Lord, be with Katherine. Keep her safe.”
He scanned the heavens. The stars shone in all their glory. “Add Prudence to that request, Lord. The woman tries hard, but she’s got to be in pain with those feet and now this wound on her arm. I don’t know what to do with her, Father. I do want a wife and children one day, but I’d like to be able to choose who that woman would be. I don’t feel right sending her back home to her parents. They don’t seem to appreciate her. On the other hand, I don’t know what I could do for her. I don’t have my own farm to hire her on, but she doesn’t seem the sort to work with her hands, anyway.”
The past few days’ journey floated through his mind. Not once had Prudence complained about the work, the trail, or her injuries. “She deserves a husband who loves and appreciates her for the way You’ve gifted her. Father, send her a husband quickly. She needs a husband.”
What’s she going to do once our marriage is dissolved? he wondered. He removed the cloth from his forehead and combed his hair back from his face with his fingers. He shook off the thought and headed back to the house. He needed rest, and thinking about Prudence would prevent him from sleeping.
Urias woke the next morning and went to the barn before the sun rose over the horizon. He milked the cow, fed the chickens, and took care of a few other odd chores to help Mrs. Campbell. Her moving in with her daughter seemed the most logical thing to do. The small farm was too much for a single person, not to mention an older woman.
The smell and sound of bacon frying in the griddle greeted him when he walked into the house. Mrs. Campbell stood at the stove. “Thank you, Urias. It felt wonderful to sleep in this morning.”
“You’re welcome.”
“How’d you sleep?”
“Fine.” Urias placed the bucket of fresh milk next to the sink.
She smiled. “How’s the leg?”
For an old gal, she doesn’t miss much. “Sore … and shaded with some interesting colors of purple and blue.”
“Sorry. I thought of giving her some whiskey but—”
“Happy to help. The leg will heal.”
“Urias, it’s none of my business but …” She paused to set a plate of eggs, bacon, and fried potatoes on the table, then motioned for him to sit down. “How well do you know this girl?”
His back went stiff. Had she noticed they weren’t acting much like a husband and wife? Or had she seen or heard something from Prudence that concerned her? Urias let out a long, slow breath. “We’re still learning about each other,” he replied.
Prudence stood on the bottom stair, eavesdropping on Urias and Mrs. Campbell’s discussion.
“She doesn’t know the first thing about canning and preparing foods for the winter. How’s she supposed to handle being a farmer’s wife?”
“Guess she’ll have to rely on folks like yourself to teach her.”
Prudence smiled. Could he be expecting her to become his real wife? Did she want that? Admittedly, the attraction between them was growing. Perhaps that’s why it hurt so much to have him thinking she was with child.
Mrs. Campbell chuckled. “You’re only going to be here a day or two.”
“She’s a quick learner. I’ve been impressed with her on the trail. She’s picking up things very quickly.”
Mrs. Campbell let out a hearty laugh. “You’re doing like your parents, eh?”
Urias chuckled. “Appears that way.”
Doing what like his parents? The major problem with eavesdropping was you didn’t have the freedom to ask questions when points of interest came up. Prudence stepped down the final step to the floor and walked into the kitchen. “Good morning,” she said.
“Morning. How’s the arm?” Urias sat at the table with a plate full of eggs, bacon, potatoes, and corn bread. There was enough on his plate to feed two. He sank his fork into his eggs and continued to eat his meal.
“Sore. I haven’t looked under the bandage yet.”
Mrs. Campbell turned from the stove and placed another plate with a smaller portion at the place setting next to Urias. “Come, sit down. There’s more if you would like some.”
“Thank you.” Prudence sat down. “This is more than sufficient.”
“Would you like me to take care of the bandage?” Urias offered, holding a forkful of eggs halfway between his mouth and the plate.
“If you wouldn’t mind. I think I could manage, but it would be awkward.”
“Be my pleasure.”
Mrs. Campbell set a plate for herself on the table and sat down with them. “Keep it clean and it should heal well.”
“I’m concerned about taking you out on the trail for that very reaso
n.”
Prudence’s heart landed in the pit of her stomach. The fear that had plagued her most of the night had come true. He planned on leaving her with Mrs. Campbell while he finished the trip to the Cumberland Gap.
“Honey, I don’t want an infection to set in.”
Honey? That’s the second time he called me that. Does he actually care for me? Or is this to put up a front for Mrs. Campbell? Urias didn’t seem the kind of man that would deliberately deceive folks.
“He’s giving good counsel, Prudence. A gal can’t stay all that clean on the road. I ain’t never hauled no pigs, but when my husband and I were much younger, we made the trip east a few times, taking sheep and cattle to Virginia. It was an excellent way to earn good money. But the road was dusty.”
Prudence sighed. “I suppose you both are right.”
Urias reached over and placed his hand upon hers. “I’ll stay through tomorrow and set out at dawn.”
“Can one man handle all those hogs?” Mrs. Campbell asked.
Urias leaned back in his chair. “I suppose I should hire someone to come along with me.”
“But that will cut the profit.” Prudence covered her mouth. The words just slipped out.
Urias smiled. “Right. Why don’t we wait and see how your wound is tomorrow night? Then I’ll see if one of the Mercer boys can lend a hand.”
Prudence lifted her gaze and zeroed in on her husband. Her husband—could her father’s arrogance have been a blessing in disguise?
Chapter 9
Urias worked hard until sundown. Frank Jr. and Samuel stayed the better part of the day. And Frank mentioned he’d be willing to lend a hand with the hogs if Prudence wasn’t ready for travel. Urias knew Prudence didn’t want to be left behind, yet what choice did he have? On the other hand, a few days with Mrs. Campbell could be helpful for Prudence to learn more about being a farmer’s wife. Not that he was hoping she’d be his “real” wife one day.
As he stacked the wood beside the house that had been split earlier, giving Mrs. Campbell an easier distance to travel in the winter months, the biblical story of Esther popped into his mind once again. Was God trying to say something to him?
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