Chapter Four
As the afternoon sun streamed through the window, Prudence paced back and forth in the kitchen, her bare feet slapping against the cool tile floor. She couldn’t believe that the man she was set to marry had caught her singing to herself while cooking. It was embarrassing, to say the least.
The younger Hubert Fitzgerald was nothing like she imagined.
He was taller than she was by half a foot, with broad shoulders that filled his frock.
His brown hair was cut short, and she giggled when she thought about the cowlick that curled towards the front.
He had a firm, square jaw with a small dimple in his chin, a smile that made her insides like jelly, and eyes the color of rich chestnuts that grew down by the river back home.
Even though he said she was safe with him, there was something about him that completely rattled her.
Despite her flustered state, Prudence tried to focus on preparing for dinner with the Reverend and his wife.
She had already scoured every nook and cranny of Mrs. Holstead’s kitchen, but the only thing left to do was buy some fresh ingredients.
Thankfully, Althea had offered to take her shopping, and Prudence had been busy ever since.
She had spent the last two days cooking up a storm.
She made soups, breads, and pastries. Cooking helped keep her nerves at bay.
The sound of flour flying as she kneaded dough, and the warmth of the oven as it baked filled her with a sense of purpose and calm.
If there were any leftovers, she would take them to the church and share them with someone in need, giving her even more satisfaction.
Despite everything that had happened, being in the kitchen still felt like home to Prudence.
Now that Hubert had returned to town, holding a small celebration dinner seemed like the natural thing to do. His not running away or rejecting her immediately brought a sense of peace that she didn’t realize was missing.
Glancing at the clock, the day was going to drag on, even with the baking left to do.
She started another kettle and went to pull out the copper tub.
Today would be the perfect day to take a leisurely soak, scrub her hair, and pray.
She wanted the Holy Spirit to guide her ministrations in preparing for her wedding.
Was her future father-in-law going to make them take classes like her own father made those who married in his church?
Despite not discussing her father with the Fitzgeralds, Papa was constantly on her mind.
She’d also sat in the back row of the weekly service, and just absorbed Reverand Fitzgerald’s sermons.
The difference between the older men and their love of the Lord fascinated her.
However, along with great joy came conflict: which way was the correct way to worship? Was there only one path? It was jarring to hear about a loving, omniscient, and omnipotent God who seemed so different from the one she had known in her upbringing.
Filling the tub, she glanced briefly at the front door.
Did she need to worry about him coming back?
No, she would have faith that he would do as he said. She placed another kettle on the stove and checked the dough that was rising. Prudence was considering trying a technique she’d only read about. The recipe called for frying the dough into tasty little balls and then coating them in sugar.
Grabbing the bath sheet off the hook, she let her mind wander to what her new home would look like. Would it be like this one? With a full kitchen, or perhaps indoor facilities?
“Don’t be a goose. You’re going west,” she chided herself.
Omaha wasn’t as crowded as Boston, and that alone was a positive in coming out west. Once in the tub, her head lay back on the edge, and she let herself dream about the future and the handsome God-fearing man who was apparently going to marry her.
She couldn’t help but wonder how he differed from his father, who was a soft-spoken man of God. The idea of fearing damnation again was overwhelming. As her mind raced, Prudence made a mental note to bring up the conflicting thoughts during dinner conversation.
Hubert had scrubbed his skin until it was pink like a newborn.
He then shaved and laughed when his mama felt the need to check behind his ears.
His heart was lighter than it had been at any other point he could recall.
Not for the first time, he wished he hadn’t fought the idea of Will or Silas coming with him.
A man should have his friends bear witness when making a fool of himself.
Mama mentioned Prudence was friendly, tidy, and a little withdrawn.
But Mama liked her, which all but guaranteed that Mama Holstead would like her as well.
They had a bit of time before they needed to head to dinner, and Mama sent him in search of his father.
Hubert let himself into the back of the church where he had grown up.
Catching sight of the wooden cross that was a gift to the church last year, he settled on the end of the nearby pew and considered his future.
He eagerly looked forward to every praise and prayer that he had yet to speak or see.
A verse drifted through his memory. “I will make a helper suitable for him.”
Hubert couldn’t say for certain, though he thought that was Genesis. He’d look it up later, but for now, the scripture soothed his restless spirit. Prudence would be a suitable helpmate, based on just the few things he had learned about her.
“Son.”
Looking up, he found his father standing a few feet away.
“Hey Pop.” Hubert pushed up to his feet and held his hand out to the older man. “It sounds like you tried to steal my bride.”
The older man smirked and then laughed. “Well, she is a pretty thing. Soft-spoken, even. Your mother wouldn’t like it if I took a second wife, and I’m partial to keeping my first one.
” He took Hubert’s hand and then pulled him into a hug, slapping him on the back.
“It’s good to have you home. Let’s go down to the office. ”
They walked down the hall to the rectory office in silence, both lost in their own thoughts for the moment.
It was something he’d always appreciated about their relationship.
Now settled behind his desk, Reverend Fitzgerald replaced the father role.
Hubert felt himself straighten without thought.
The Reverend leaned forward with his fingers steepled.
“Hubert, I know you sent a letter to Ingrid Chapman. She’s also a family friend. Tell me why you think you’re prepared to have a wife and what your intentions are.”
Taking a deep breath, Hubert wiped his sweaty palms against his thighs and met his father’s gaze straight on.
“I have already established a church in Sterling. There is a nice growing congregation there. We do not believe that church leaders are required to take a vow of celibacy. I would like a helpmate and partner for the journey of life that I am on.”
“And if she refuses your offer?”
“I met her this morning, sir. She invited me to have dinner with you and Mother. Something clicked inside me, and I feel like I am destined for this relationship. It is almost as if God has already blessed it.”
His father gave him a slight nod, but his expression remained serious. Hubert could sense that something was weighing on his mind, and he knew that eventually it would surface if he just waited patiently.
“I am sure that you are eager to return to Sterling. However, I would like you both to spend a day or two getting to know each other before I officiate.”
“Yes, sir.” They stood to make their way back to the parsonage. At least there was one less thing to discuss over dinner, he thought with a sigh of relief.
“You know your mother is going to want grandchildren quickly.”
“Yes, sir. Can I get through the marrying part before Mama names any children?”
A firm hand patted his shoulder. “You can try, son. You can try.”
His father’s smile conveyed his approval, and the room erupted in laughter. It had always been that way ever since he could remember.
When things were serious, his father would become stern; when the mood shifted, they would all laugh together.
It had been almost three years since Hubert had last visited home, but it was comforting to see that some things never changed.
As they emerged from the church, Althea stood in the courtyard clutching a basket.
Hubert didn’t hesitate to pick it up, finding comfort in knowing his parents were by his side as he headed to dinner with the woman who would soon be his wife.
But first, he needed to convince Prudence that this morning’s mishap was just a misunderstanding, and he had no intention of offending her.
He waved to those who called out to him on the short walk, noting that the new merchant hadn’t removed the Easton name from his sign yet, and that the Soiled Doves saloon seemed quieter somehow.
Sterling didn’t have a saloon or a brothel. Hubert wondered how long they could keep it that way. It was something that the group had talked about, wanting to keep the drinking, violence and sinning as far from Sterling as possible.
Though, like all good things, the enemy would one day find a way in.
It wasn’t like they could shut their town off from the rest of humanity.
Hubert wouldn’t want that, anyway. He really needed to quit getting lost in his thoughts.
They had arrived; the sound of his mother knocking on the frame of the screen door pulled him back to the moment.
Prudence was even prettier than she had been earlier in the day. Now in a soft blue dress, and her dark hair curling over her shoulder. Hubert felt his palms grow damp, mindful not to let them touch her when she reached out for the basket.
“Weren’t you chattier when we met earlier?” she teased him.