Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 108382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
"She said what?" Zac bellowed, smashing the empty glass down on the bar.
"Uneventful. Yes sir, that's the word she used. Uneventful," Sadie repeated once again.
Zac's jaw line tightened and his eyes narrowed. "Uneventful," he said slowly, tasting the irritating word. "Wait until I get my hands on her."
"I think that's exactly what she found disappointing—your hands . . . or should I say what you did or didn't do with them," Sadie said, a hearty laugh bouncing her large bosoms.
The barkeep joined in, and Zac shot him a warning look that immediately turned the man's head in the opposite direction. He then focused his attention on Sadie. "Where did she go?"
His stony look chilled her. She shrugged her shoulders, not trusting her voice, especially since it was stuck somewhere in her throat.
Zac moved toward her. "I'm in no mood for games. Prudence Agatha Winthrop is a spoiled young lady who needs to be taught a lesson."
"You gonna be her teacher?" Sadie asked, a sly grin turning up the corners of her red-painted lips.
"I'm going to teach her things she never dreamed of learning," Zac said with the undaunted look of a gunfighter ready to face his foe. "Now where is she?"
"Hooked up with a preacher and his family on their way to Alexandria by wagon."
Sadie and Zac both turned their heads in unison to stare at Jake, the barkeep.
He grinned, his red moustache spreading wide. "Heard the ladies talking, Mr. Stewart, and I didn't give anyone my word."
Sadie raised a pointed finger to Jake and opened her mouth, but Zac cut her off.
"Don't you dare fire Jake," he warned.
"It's my place and I’ll do—"
"As I say," Zac finished, grabbing Sadie and planting a big kiss on her cheek.
Sadie shook him off, fending annoyance, but the blush warming her cheeks spoke otherwise. "You're the devil himself, Zac Stewart."
"No, Sadie," Zac said in a dangerously controlled voice. "I'm worse than the devil, and that's what Miss Winthrop is about to discover."
A lump lodged in Sadie's throat once again, but she managed a small warning. "Don't be too harsh on her."
Zac took his black hat from the bar and put it on casually, tugging it down. "She'll get what she deserves."
"Which is?"
"More than she bargained for," Zac said with a smile that would chill the fires of hell.
"Oh, Father, this lost child begs your forgiveness," Preacher Jacob solemnly prayed in the darkness.
Prudence's knees had long since lost their feeling, for which she was grateful. She and the preacher had been kneeling on the hard ground and praying for an hour now, or perhaps for more than an hour. She had lost track of time. His words were a monotonous drone in her ears, going on for what seemed like forever.
She had been grateful when the wagon had finally been stopped for the night, more so for Ellie than for herself. Prudence was finding the West to her liking. Its stark, raw beauty appealed to her, as did the simplicity and hard work of everyday life. The people carved out a special existence for themselves against all odds and elements. Not an easy feat, but a challenging one.
Although she doubted Ellie was up to the challenge, through no fault of her own. Her condition and the hardships of wagon travel had completely exhausted her. Prudence had spotted it miles back. Still, the woman drove the team on, as well as cared for the children and fed everyone the noonday meal, while her husband rode ahead, ignoring all as he prayed.
As soon as they had stopped, Prudence had pitched in to help with the children and to prepare the evening meal. Earlier, Ellie had refused her help when they had stopped at noon, whispering that a lady such as she shouldn't work. But this time Prudence didn't offer her help; she just gave it. And Ellie didn't refuse.
Prudence had just finished settling all six young ones for the night and was about to do the same with herself, when Preacher Jacob announced her repentance time was at hand.
His words hung like a dire warning in her mind as he led her to the edge of the camp, away from the others and the glow of the fire. The dark night seemed to swallow them up as he forced her to her knees, kneeling beside her, his hand heavy upon her shoulder. Then he began to pray. And pray and pray.
Prudence's eyes grew heavy with needed sleep, her shoulders slumped, and her back throbbed. She mumbled her prayers, not wanting the preacher to know she prayed for a quick deliverance from him.
"Do you renounce the sins of the flesh?" he asked. His voice was low, and there was a strange shift in its monotonous cadence.
"Yes," Prudence answered quickly, wanting desperately for this ordeal to end.
"You will allow only your husband to lay his hands upon you?" His voice quivered in urgency with each word he spoke.