Page 9 of The Preacher's Wife
But who was she?
As he contemplated his next move, the woman spun around, revealing a spatula clenched in her hand. A high-pitched shriek escaped her lips as she brandished it towards him, her large blue eyes wild and panicked. He took a step back, fear creeping up his spine at the sight of her makeshift weapon.
With each word punctuated with a swat of the utensil, the woman asked, “Who are you? How did you get here? Don’t you come any closer!” Hubert’s shoulders shook as he tried to stifle his laughter, but it bubbled out in a deep belly rumble that threatened to burst from his sides.
He was exhausted and emotionally drained from the long week of traveling, but this moment brought a much-needed release. “This is not funny.” She smacked the spatula against the stove, only to yank it back to her body in apology. “Who are you?”
He regarded the stranger in front of him. Her skin was the color of pale porcelain with a kiss of peach on the cheeks. She had a pert nose, kissable lips and large expressive eyes surrounded by dark lashes.
“Who are you? Is that really the question? I have a key to this house, and you are a stranger.” He attempted to make a serious expression, but his cheeks refused to relax from the wide smile on his face. His gaze followed her as she folded her arms tightly across her chest. He noticed the glimmer of tears forming in her eyes, and his heart clenched in response.
“The church assured me that no one would bother me.”
“Hey, there. Don’t cry. I mean you no harm.” He moved a little closer. “My name is Hubert Fitzgerald, and if the church sent you to this house, that means you’ve met my parents.” As he spoke, he realized he knew who she was, despite her suspicious expression.
“You are Hubert Fitzgerald?”
Her voice lowered to a whisper, and she gently bit her bottom lip as she spoke. As she spoke, her lips moved subtly, drawing Hubert’s attention, and igniting his imagination of how they would feel against his own.
His eyes never left her lips. “I am.”
“Reverend Hubert Fitzgerald?”
He wondered what she was thinking, so he simply nodded. She formed a perfect “o” with her lips, and he was lost. Hubert couldn’t help but stare at the movement of her mouth.
He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t resist the desire to kiss her. Just the thought of reaching out and cupping her cheek and tracing her bottom lip with his thumb stirred up something in him he had never felt before. Kissing her was probably a bad idea, but it was something he wanted to do.He’d consider that further later.
Clenching his hand that was reaching out of its own volition, he made a show of running it through his hair instead.
“I’m going to make a guess: you must be my intended bride, sent by Mrs. Chapman and placed in the spot where I had intended to get ready to meet you. However, I don’t even know your name, so you have me at a disadvantage.”
A sudden flush of pink flooded her cheeks, and he caught the faint tremor in her voice as she spoke.
“Prudence Underwood.” Her voice was barely audible, a mere whisper that floated past his ears and faded into the background noise coming from the outside window. She pivoted on her heel and returned to her work, leaving Hubert grateful for the momentary break from her presence.
Prudence. It was pretty, meaning thoughtful. He knew that a time like this would require prudence.
“Miss Underwood, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Since you are already here, I’m going to my parents’ to clean up and have a nap. May I come back this afternoon?”
He wondered what he would do if she rejected him, but he didn’t have to wait too long for a reply.
Without turning around, she responded. “I will see you and your parents for dinner at four.”
Hubert pondered what else was going through her mind, but her false bravado had dissipated when she looked away from him. He would have to address that later.
“I’ll see you at dinner. Then we can discuss with my father when he can marry us.”
Going back out the way he’d come, Hubert had just finished tugging on his boots when she appeared in the kitchen doorway.
“You still plan to marry me?”
“I don’t see any reason not to.”
He may not understand what she was thinking, but the click that his father had talked about slammed into him like a tree falling. As she stood in the doorway, he couldn’t help but stare. Her long black skirt swayed gently with each move she made. A red shirt with elbow-length sleeves hugged her delicate arms. The way her dark hair draped over one shoulder in soft waves, tied off with a ribbon that matched her shirt, mesmerized him. A slight movement drew his gaze downwards, and he saw delicate toes wiggle from beneath the dark skirt.
He took a deep breath and reached for his hat, placing it on top of his head. She was truly the most beautiful person he had ever seen.
Her chin bobbed as if his response settled something inside of her. “I guess it’s settled then.”
