“Of course, son. Do what you need to do.”
He wanted to lean over and give Prudence a kiss. Where that thought came from, he didn’t want to know. He set his hat upon his head and said, “I’ll be back.”
Urias headed for the front door. With his hand to the knob, Prudence called, “Urias, aren’t you forgetting something?”
She wants a good-bye kiss? He glanced back at Mrs. Campbell. She didn’t know their marriage was a sham. “What?”
She held up the brown leather purse that held her money.
“Thanks.” He winked. He’d completely forgotten about money. He just knew what needed to be done and had only a very short time to do it.
He left the house, readied the horse, and headed for the Mercers’ place in less than ten minutes. Mentally, he went through a quick list of what he could do to help Mrs. Campbell out in a day—possibly two. He didn’t want to take the time, but Prudence needed it for her feet, and Mrs. Campbell obviously needed some help.
Frank Mercer was more than happy to sell off some feed. He also agreed to send his boys over in the morning to give Urias a hand. “They’d been meaning to come by and help Mrs. Campbell anyway,” he said apologetically.
Back at the farm, Urias fed the pigs, blending the grain with some water and various edible greens he’d found along the road. After that he went to the woodpile, stacked the split logs, then proceeded to split those already cut. Tomorrow, he’d have to go into the woods and down the standing dead wood.
The clang of the iron triangle that hung on the front porch rang. Urias brushed the sweat off his brow, turned off the lantern, and headed for the house.
“Wash barrel is over there now,” Mrs. Campbell directed, pointing to the right rear corner of the house.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t take too much time. Dinner’s getting cold. We’ve been waiting on you.”
“Sorry.” Urias snickered as he headed to the barrel. “Women.”
❧
Mrs. Campbell’s treatment for Prudence’s feet had her feeling much better. They weren’t as raw as when Urias treated them the night before. Mrs. Campbell also lent her a pair of fur-lined slippers that felt absolutely wonderful. Urias didn’t know it yet, but she’d been up walking around and helping Mrs. Campbell prepare dinner.
Urias also didn’t know that the room Mrs. Campbell had put them in only had one bed and very little space for Urias to sleep on the floor. Somehow Prudence knew she would have to convince Urias to sleep on the bed. He’d been up the entire night before, worked the hogs hard to come here before nightfall, and he’d been working hard all evening. The man was going to collapse if he didn’t get some rest.
She wanted to prepare a hot bath for him but didn’t feel she had the right to ask Mrs. Campbell for such a sacrifice. One thing was certain: She’d be leaving with Urias when he left. Prudence didn’t want to be glad that Mr. Campbell had passed away, but his passing had allowed her the time she needed to heal and continue with Urias.
The front door opened, and Prudence watched Urias remove his boots before entering. “Evening,” he said and smiled.
“Good evening. We’ve made dinner for you,” Prudence offered.
“Come on in and set a spell, son, before you drop. A man can’t work that hard and not stop for a rest. Even the Good Book tells us we need to rest.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Urias stepped into the front room.
“I’ve set you two up in the upstairs front bedroom. The other rooms are not fit for guests, I’m sorry to say. I’ve been rummaging through our belongings and deciding what to keep, what to get rid of, what to pass on to others… .” Mrs. Campbell sniffed. “It’s not an easy task. I hope the two of you never have to go through it.”
Prudence didn’t know what to say. The woman truly loved her husband and missed him, but she wasn’t pining away for him. She was getting on with her life, near as Prudence could tell.
“That’ll be fine, thanks. What smells so delicious?”
Mrs. Campbell beamed. “Just something we cooked up.”
“We?”
“Your wife helped. She’s handy in the kitchen.”
“I know but…” Urias looked down at her feet.
“They’re feeling much better, and with these, it’s easy to walk around.” Prudence lifted her skirt slightly to give Urias a peek of the slippers.
“They look warm.” He scrunched his eyebrows together. “They look familiar.” He turned to Mrs. Campbell.
“Good eye, son.” Mrs. Campbell led them to the dining room. “They’re the pair your father made me several years back.”
“Your father made these?”
“Dad is quite handy with animal hides.” Urias sat down in the designated chair.
Prudence sat down beside him.
“Shame on you, son. You’re as good as your pa. You mustn’t keep those hidden talents away from your wife.”
Crimson washed over Urias’s face.
“Come now. Say the blessing before this dinner is stone cold.”
“Yes’m.” Urias led them through a brief but meaningful prayer, asking the Lord’s blessing on Mrs. Campbell.
“The Mercer boys will be coming over in the morning to help me with the wood. Between the three of us, I’m sure we’ll have enough for the winter by the end of the day.”
“I can’t thank you enough.” Mrs. Campbell reached for the casserole dish and offered it to Urias first. He took out a huge helping and passed the dish on to Prudence, who spooned out a much smaller portion.
“You don’t each much, child.” Mrs. Campbell received the dish from Prudence.
“My stomach hasn’t been feeling too well.”
“Are you with child?” Mrs. Campbell asked.
Prudence could feel the heat on her face rage as bright as what had appeared on Urias’s. “No, I don’t believe so.”
Urias stared at her and blinked.
Oh no, Lord, I’ve given Urias the wrong impression. “We haven’t been married that long,” Prudence amended, trying to motion with her eyebrows that she was saying that for Mrs. Campbell’s sake.
❧
The stew and biscuits stuck in Urias’s throat. Had he been forced to marry Prudence because she was with child? Had Hiram Greene seen him as a dupe? Urias’s temper rose a notch. He forced the morsel down his throat, closed his eyes, and prayed for grace. If Prudence was with child, that would present another problem. How could he abandon her while she’s expecting? And what happened to the father?
He took another forkful of the stew and examined his wife a bit more closely.
“Don’t take long,” Mrs. Campbell answered.
Prudence’s face was beet red now.
Now things were beginning to make sense. Someone had gotten Prudence pregnant and run out before Hiram Greene knew of his daughter’s sin. Which is why he was so upset at their meeting privately in the barn. Would Prudence have tried to seduce him to convince him the child she was carrying was his?
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.
Eight
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 fingertips 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.”
Once she 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 into 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 cool bucket.
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.”
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