Page 29 of The Preacher's Wife
“I would hope that she understood. I wanted her to feel safe and not to wake up alone after her traumatic day.”
Prudence sniffled, turning her face away.She still needed to tell him the truth.
“No crying, wife. I know what happened, and when you’re ready, we’ll talk about it. All I need to know is whether you want to stay. Things are different now, I imagine.”
“What do you mean, do I want to stay?” She fought against the weight pressing down on her, trying to sit up. The trapped feeling made it difficult, but she persisted.
With a sudden movement, Hubert shifted and let go of her, causing Prudence to hit her head against the wall as she sat up. They were now close enough to kiss if she chose to, but there were more pressing matters at hand that needed to be addressed first.
“Sorry about that, Pru. I didn’t mean to pin you down.”
She rubbed her head as she looked at him. “What did you mean if I want to stay? You’re going to send me away!”
“Away? Why would I send you away?”
She pulled her knees up to her chest, trying to choose her words carefully. “Whenever I disappointed my father, he would make me leave. It could be just to my bedroom, or out of the house entirely. On rare occasions, he would even threaten to kick me out onto the streets and force me to fend for myself.”
Tucking his arm around her shoulders, he pulled her in closer to his chest. Truly, she enjoyed it when he cuddled her, and wholeheartedly thought it should happen more often. It was what had spurred her desire to talk to him about their sleeping arrangements.
“Do you want to talk about what I learned about myself today?” he asked softly.
Prudence’s fingers worked the edge of the blanket, and she nodded into his shoulder. For now, he was quite chatty, and she didn’t want to interrupt him or discourage him from talking. Especially if it didn’t end with sending her away.
“I missed you today. I didn’t enjoy being so far away and not having you with me.” His finger came up, lifting her chin so that she had to meet his steady gaze.“I never want to be without you.”
A spark of joy ignited in her chest. It wasn’t quite the love declaration she had been hoping for, but it was close enough. Unable to resist any longer, she leaned in and pressed her lips awkwardly against his.
His fingers slid up her neck, so he could cup the back of her head. Pulling her closer so their mouths moved together. A wave of pleasure washed over her, causing her toes to curl and her hands to grip his shirt, unwilling to let go even when he pulled away. Something was stirring inside her. There was warmth building in her belly and a desire to be closer than she already was. When he finally broke the kiss, they both turned their heads, gasping for air.
Laughter followed as they fell back against the pillows.
“I think we have the kissing part down.” Hubert let out a wheezing breath.
“And the loving part, too.”There, she’d admitted it.Somewhere along the way in the last two weeks, she had fallen in love with this gentle, awkward man, and one day he would fall in love with her too. “I still need to tell you something.”
“What is it?” He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her.
“There was a letter in my father’s case. Someone saw us in Omaha and sent him a letter. Papa demanded I go home with him and was furious. I thought he was going to hurt one of the men.” The entire event had made her numb. “He said that our marriage was a farce.”
“Oh my, sweet girl. He wanted to hurt you. I read the letter that you found. Emily gave it to me. Your father wanted to shame you and wasn’t afraid to do so. I don’t know how Jeffrey Crumb plays into that, but Pru, I need you to promise me you won’t talk about who wrote that letter. At least not until after Amanda delivers her baby.”
“I promise.” It was an easy enough promise to keep. She didn’t understand, but she trusted Hubert to have a reason.
“Good girl.” He brushed his lips against her hair. “I’m sorry that you lost your father, but I am so thankful that you didn’t get in that coach trying to keep everyone safe.”
“I froze, and I never want to feel like that again.”
“Then we should talk to the Masters. I know Jackson is teaching his wife ways to defend herself. Perhaps she can share those skills with you. Or he might even set up a class for all the women in town. That might not be a bad idea.”
“Everyone has their own story to tell. Isn’t that what you told me at our first dinner?” She tried to remember what his exact words were, but the haze of the day clouded her memory.
“Everyone in this town has a story or is currently writing theirs. As individuals and as couples, they must do the work. And we make sure that everyone has the support they need.”
“You’re a good man, Hubert Fitzgerald.”
“And you are the best part of my day, Prudence Fitzgerald.”
“That is wonderful to hear. You’re going to have to let me up again, and then we’ll talk about what’s next once I get back.”
