At first light, Rodney shook Prudence awake. "It's time," he said. He slipped out of her arms no matter how hard she tried to keep him there on the bed.

"Don't go," she pleaded.

"Prudence, we've discussed this already. I have to go."

"I know," she said. "I wish you didn't."

He pulled her close into a kiss. "There's nothing to worry about," he said. "Everything will be fine."

As he dressed, she filled a rucksack with extra clothes, food, and other supplies for the journey. She tried to imagine Rodney was going away on a hunting or fishing trip with some of the other men of Wessenshire. He would return in a few days with a deer or armload of fish for her to clean. This wasn't any different at all. Except instead of harmless deer and fish he would be dealing with savages as brutal as any predator.

She began to cry again at this thought. Rodney finished lacing up his boots and then took hold of her. "Prudence, you mustn't cry now. This isn't a sad occasion. This is a happy time. It's the beginning of a new life for everyone."

He tilted up her chin to wipe away her tears. "I can't help it," she said. "I don't want you to go."

"I don't want to leave you either, but there's no other way. I wish there were." His face broke into a smile that made him look even sadder. "Let's not part this way. Let me see that beautiful smile of yours one more time before I leave."

She forced herself to smile; she didn't want to disappoint him in their final moments together. They looked into each other's eyes a moment before she kissed him. She tried to fill the kiss with every ounce of passion and love possible so that he knew how much she loved him. Maybe then he would stay.

He didn't. He backed away, his fingertips running through her hair and then caressing her cheek. Her lips were left kissing the air. When she opened her eyes, he was gone.

She followed him outside, to the center of the encampment, where the other five men waited. They each carried a rucksack like Rodney crowded with supplies and whatever treasures the settlers could spare to trade with the savages. Prudence had donated a broach of her mother's. She didn't know what use a savage woman would have for jewelry, but she would give anything that might appease them to bring Rodney back alive.

"Where's Reverend Crane?" Mr. Applegate asked. "He should be here to bless you on your way."

"He must be pouting in his tent," Rebecca said. She took Rodney's hand. "Good luck to you, Mr. Gooddell and you other fellows. Watch yourselves out there."




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