The Preacher's Bride (Brides of Simpson Creek) Read Online Free Page B

and if all goes well, Reverend Chadwick will need us less and less...”
    If all goes well. There was so much that could happen, even now. In his weakened condition, the old preacher would still be easy prey to pneumonia and other infections. Not for the first time, she wished she believed in prayer. But she might as well aim her thoughts to the dirt, she thought, as believe there was Someone beyond the sky who would hear her.
    No one in the Heavens had listened when she had pled for her brother Eddy’s life when he was bitten by a snake. If there was a God, wouldn’t He have listened and spared a small boy? And when she had begged to feel her father’s love again?
    She had always wished for the courage to ask the question of Reverend Chadwick. But now he, too, had been struck down, and only time would tell if he survived.

Chapter Three
    “T hank you, ladies, for coming together on such short notice,” Faith said, after all the members of the Spinsters’ Club had helped themselves to lemonade and cookies and sat down in the Bennett parlor. “Especially you, Caroline—we didn’t really expect you to have time, what with your wedding and all—goodness, I hadn’t realized!” she said, as a thought struck her. “I suppose Reverend Gil will have to be the one to conduct your wedding this Saturday?”
    “Yes, Jack and I spoke to him about it this afternoon. It’ll be the very first wedding he’s performed, imagine that,” she said with a smile. “Of course, it will depend on the state of his father’s health. Do you suppose we could all pray for our preacher right now?”
    Everyone bowed their heads while Caroline led them in prayer. Faith lowered her head, too, out of respect, but she always felt like such an outsider when others prayed.
    “All right,” Faith said when the prayer was over. “We’re here to organize shifts for nursing Reverend Chadwick. If all goes well, the plan is for him to go home from the doctor’s tomorrow morning. I’ll take the first shift, and see if the routine I have in mind works. We will be at the bedside in the daytime, ladies, while G—that is, Reverend Gil—” she corrected herself hastily as she felt the heat rise in her cheeks “—will see to his father at night.” She cleared her throat, hoping none of the others had seen her blush. It would not do to let them know how much she cared for the young preacher. “This should involve less intense nursing than during the epidemic because there shouldn’t be feverish crises, but our diligent care will still be vital to whatever recovery he makes.”
    Hannah raised her hand. “Your mother told me he was awake but unable to speak.”
    Faith nodded. “So far, he can’t speak,” she confirmed, “though he has tried. I’m sure it must be frustrating. He is also paralyzed on his right side. So he’ll need much effort from us. From what Dr. Walker has told me, he must be turned from side to side every few hours, bathed, fed nourishing broth and have his limbs exercised a few times a day. There’ll be laundry to do. We must work hard, ladies, or he’ll get pneumonia.”
    “It sounds like a tall order,” Maude said soberly.
    Faith knew Maude was more aware of what such nursing care involved than the others did, for her father had been a doctor. “Yes, and if any of you feel you’re not up to doing this, no one will blame you,” Faith said. “The married ladies will provide food for the preacher and his son, but those who can’t nurse could do this, too.”
    Polly closed her eyes and put up a hand as if volunteering for martyrdom. “ I would do anything to help our preacher,” she declared in a tone more suited to the stage. “I’d be willing to work every day, if you like.”
    Faith guessed Polly was thinking a good deal more about how the old preacher’s illness would give her increased time around his son than she was of the reality of nursing a helpless, sick old man.
    “We’re all devoted to Reverend