"He's like a father to us." Prudence measured Samantha's neck, tightening the tape until Samantha choked. "Sorry. You should be grateful to the reverend for letting you stay."
"I am. But if he's so great, why does he need a creep like Mr. Pryde and those dogs of his?"
"You shouldn't talk like that. Mr. Pryde keeps the bad things out. He keeps us safe."
"You think there are really monsters and savages out there waiting to swallow you up?"
"Of course there are. Why would Miss Brigham lie to us?"
"But you've never seen any of them."
"I haven't seen God either, but I know He exists," Prudence said. She forced Samantha to lower her arms to measure them. "Even if you could leave here, where would you go?"
"I don't know. Somewhere else. There must be other towns with other people. People like me."
"If you ask the reverend, he might let you go out with Mr. Pryde on one of his hunting trips to look for your parents."
"He gets to leave here but we can't?"
"He goes out to hunt game sometimes. Deer, moose, even bears. Last Christmas he brought back a turkey for us."
"I don't think he'd like my company very much. I don't have four legs and I can't hold much in my mouth."
Prudence giggled and again stopped herself after a second. "He's not friendly, but he helps us. We wouldn't be able to survive without him." Prudence finished her measurements and motioned for Samantha to get off the stool. "I have a blanket on the chair over there you can use to cover yourself."
Samantha took a gray blanket exactly like those in the dormitory off a rocking chair and threw it over her shoulders. From a pincushion, she took a handful of pins and turned the blanket into an improvised gown. She spun around for Prudence. "What do you think? It's the latest style."
"You better not let the reverend see you like that."
"Relax. I'll take it off when you finish, so the quicker you are, the sooner I'll take it off. In the meantime, what do you want me to assist with?" Samantha picked up the thimbles from Prudence's worktable, sticking one on the end of each finger. She waggled her metal-tipped fingers at Prudence, whose face turned bright red.
"What are you doing? I had those arranged in a certain order. Now you've gone and made a mess of everything."
"I'm sorry," Samantha said. She tried to put the thimbles back on the table the way she remembered them. "What can I do?"
"Just sit in the chair and watch me," Prudence said. Samantha did as ordered, leaning forward to watch Prudence string thread through a needle in one fluid motion. As Prudence stitched up Samantha's dress, Samantha tapped her feet to a beat that seemed familiar somehow, but the exact rhythm escaped her. She opened her mouth to say something, and then thought better, seeing the look of intense concentration on Prudence's face.