Chapter Seven #2
“When the time is right. I’m going to take my wife over to the boarding house and get her settled. I’m also going to grab the key for my second room.”
“We’ll see you both for dinner then. Prudence, welcome to Sterling. I think if you give it a chance, you’ll find that it’s just what you needed, even if you didn’t know it.”
Numbly, she stood, refusing the hand that Hubert held out to her. Soothing tea or not, she was still angry that this wasn’t something he’d bothered to mention. There were going to be witnesses to every single growing pain they had in the coming days.
“Thank you for your hospitality, Emily. Let me know if I can help with anything for dinner. First, I’m going to scrub myself clean and take a rest.”
She followed her husband out of the store and across the street. The boarding house was lovely. It looked like several houses put together from the front, but if they were such a small town, why did they need one so large?
“We all lived here when we first arrived. It made little sense for everyone to be working on different projects. We spent a couple of weeks building the boarding house. As the couples married and set up their own houses, they moved out. Charlie and Amanda were the first to marry and the first to build a homestead just over there. John was already married, but his wife hadn’t traveled here when we first arrived.
We built his home next.” He opened the door and walked over to the long counter, pulling a key out from behind it.
Prudence didn’t know what to say, and so she just kept following him as he headed up the stairs.
“We all get together Friday or Saturday evenings and have a small worship service the following morning. I can’t imagine that will last forever as the town grows, but it works for now. ”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Prudence paused at the top of the stairs, refusing to follow him any further until he answered her.
“Tell you what? This is where I live for now. We’d talked about building me a parsonage, but it seemed like it would be a waste of time and resources when someone else was in need.”
“Yet, you wrote for a bride.”
Hanging his head, Hubert nodded. “I did. I also thought it would take a bit more time.” He turned and continued down the hall, coming to a stop at the very end. “This is my room. I grabbed the key for this one for you as well.”
They were on opposite sides of the hall, not even side by side. She swallowed her disappointment.
“Thank you.” She waved her hand at the door expectantly, and he followed her cue to open it.
“There is a large dining room, a sitting room, and a front room downstairs. The facilities are right out back, and there is a door behind the stairs to take you there.”
“And a tub?”
Hubert smiled, moving past her to pull a small tub out from under the bed. “I’ll go get you hot water, and once you’re finished, I’ll be happy to dump it for you.”
Prudence nodded and watched him leave before looking around the room.
It was, in fact, a lovely room, with dark blue curtains; a double bed suspended off the floor, sat in the middle of the room.
There was a steamer trunk against the wall, where she could picture a bureau like the one she’d had at home.
A small table and chairs sat in front of the smaller window, and a dressing table with a washbasin and looking glass sat on the wall by the door.
Someone had taken great care to set this room up, and her anger was now humbling inside her.
A knock on the door brought her back to the present. She reached out, opening the door. Hubert came in with two large wooden buckets of steaming water. He moved quickly to dump one into the tub and put the second beside it. Prudence noticed a small tin cup floating in it.
“This should get you started.” Reaching into his pocket, he brought out a small bar of soap and a cloth, setting them on the floor beside the tub. “There are towels in the steamer trunk and hooks near the window for you to hang them on when you’re finished.”
“Thank you, Hubert.”
He nodded and let himself back out of the room. That was when she noticed that he’d set the key to her room beside the washbasin.
He wasn’t locking her in, and he was giving her room to make choices.
Turning the lock on the door, she let the tears of shame roll down her cheeks. Wearily, she stripped out of her clothes and eased herself into the tub. The tears fell harder as the feelings of the last few weeks enveloped her.
So many things were changing, and now fear of the unknown was nestled deep in her soul.
Hubert shuffled around his room, gathering clean clothes and a washcloth.
He didn’t understand why Prudence was so upset about staying at the boarding house.
She had a warm and safe place to sleep, and he knew her other needs would be met in time.
He’d intended to build a house when the time was right.
They weren’t in building season yet, and the idea of building a house just for himself seemed wasteful.
There was also the minor matter of not expecting to find a wife so quickly.
It was comforting to know that Prudence had established a connection with Emily.
Hopefully, the other wives in town would take her under their wings as well.
There was an extra bucket of hot water on the floor near the washstand, and he used it to fill the basin.
As the water swirled around the bar of soap, tiny bubbles formed, creating a creamy, sudsy lather.
As he washed his face and hands, thoughts of Prudence consumed his mind.
He couldn’t help but feel responsible for her distress, even if he couldn’t quite understand it.
As he dried his face with a towel, he listened for any sounds from the other room.
He could only hope that she was going to bathe and rest like she’d mentioned.
He changed into a fresh pair of black pants and a plaid shirt, then grabbed a sheet of parchment and settled in at his desk. Penning a quick note to let her know he was going to meet with the rest of the group, and expected to return in a few hours, before slipping it under her door.
Whistling softly, he headed downstairs in search of Silas. There was no one in the common room, so he headed to the kitchen, where Mama Holstead was patting out dough at the counter.
“Welcome home, Hubert!” She gave him a big smile. “Where is your bride?”
“Prudence is in her room upstairs. She needed to rest for a while. What are you making?”
“Biscuits.” She lifted the dough and threw it on the counter with a resounding thwack before patting it once more. “We’re having chicken and biscuits for dinner. How was your trip?”
He poured himself a cup of coffee and settled on the stool across from the older woman. “It went well. Mama says hello. She expressed her excitement at taking care of your home while you’re away. She’d tucked Pru in there before I arrived. It was quite a surprise.”
“Excellent. Silas said he’ll take me home to gather things when the ground dries up. I don’t think either of us wants to be digging wagon wheels out of the sucking mud if we don’t have to.”
“Sounds like a plan. Do you know where Silas is?”
“I believe he’s helping Jackson with some woodworking in the sheriff’s office. You go on and find him. If your bride makes her way downstairs, I’m happy to keep her company. Pru, you said?”
Hubert smacked a hand to his forehead in embarrassment. “I really am failing today. Yes, Prudence is my wife. You’ll notice her. She’s the only fresh face in town. Thank you, Mama H.”
Feeling restless, he left the room before he could stumble over any more words.
He made his way to where Silas and the sheriff were working.
A project always helped to clear his head, and focusing on the steady rhythm of pounding nails into the wood might help keep thoughts of Prudence from creeping into his mind.
She wasn’t a damsel in distress like Chloe or an unexpected passenger like Amanda, but she was clearly healing from something.
Maybe involving her in a project would help her heal even more.
Finally feeling somewhat calmer, Hubert took three steps at a time up the porch of the sheriff’s office and paused to catch his breath.
The sound of hammering followed him inside, grounding him in the present moment as he sought Silas for guidance and distraction from his own internal turmoil.
“Hello!” Hubert called out, entering the building.
“Hi, Reverend! You’re back!” Chloe Masters looked up from where she was working on something at the nearby desk. “The boys are in there.” She pointed down the hall.
“Good morning.” He offered her a quick wave, and he was on his way down the hall to the jail, friendly banter guiding each step.
“You can’t just put a nail wherever you want, Jackson! They might be prisoners, but that doesn’t mean you want them getting hurt or hurting you.” Silas’s voice echoed off the walls.
The marshal snapped back, irritation lacing his normally calm voice. “You’re the one who’s using wood.”
“To set the frames. We are setting the frames so that once the weather clears, we can pour the crete.”
Hubert could tell that this explanation had been given multiple times, and he grinned. Rapping his knuckles on the wall, he cleared his throat. “Since we don’t plan on having a lot of crime in town, perhaps wood would work?”
Three pairs of eyes turned to him, and belly chuckles erupted through the room.
“He has a point,” Irving said, walking over. Shifting the paintbrush he was holding, he shook Hubert’s hand. “Welcome back, brother.”
“Give the man a bride, and now he has all the answers,” Silas clambered to his feet.
The marshal extended his hand. “Are we sure he got a bride? Seems too eager to get back into the thick of things instead of curled up with his new wife.”
“Or she’s mad at him already. Charlie didn’t get to cuddle up with Amanda for a couple of days.” Silas pulled Hubert in for a hug, slapping him loudly on the back.