Tempting Prudence: The Bride Train by E.E. Burke Page A

hardworking, generous and honest, when pressed for the truth. He was also surprisingly tenderhearted. His manners weren’t polished, and in some cases, his behavior veered into unacceptable, but was a gentleman in the truest sense of the word.
    “Those were terrible times,” Prudence agreed. “I’m glad we’ve put them behind us.”
    She took the teapot to the table and filled two cups. “There’s no fresh milk, I’m sorry…” because she’d used it to make the bread and butter—both of which were inedible. Never again would she waste good food. After she admitted her sin to Arch, she would ask his forgiveness. He had been honest with her, and it was time she was honest with him.
    Mrs. Childers lifted the cup and took a sip. “This is fine, honey. Why don’t you sit down? You’re flitting around worse than a chickadee.”
    Prudence sank into the other rocking chair, balancing her teacup. “Pardon me, I don’t mean to be rude.”
    “You’re not being rude. You’re being a good hostess.” Mrs. Childers gave her an encouraging smile. “Arch probably told you, he’s the youngest of my six boys…four living. When he was a baby, I feared he wouldn’t live, either. He was so sickly. Wouldn’t think that to look at him now.” She chuckled. “He’s growed up strong as an oak. Smart, too. I was pleased to hear he found a good woman and settled down.”
    Prudence drank her tea to avoid responding. Mrs. Childers’ assumption wasn’t that far from the truth. Best to keep silent.
    “There is another reason I stopped by. Arch’s brothers went into town three days ago, said they was taking care of the deliveries because Arch was busy with his new wife. Nobody’s seen ’em since.”
    “What were they delivering?” Prudence asked before she realized she ought to know.
    Mrs. Childers stopped rocking. “Corn whiskey.”
    “Whiskey?” Prudence fumbled with her cup. Tea sloshed over the edge and onto the napkin in her lap. “Wh-why were they delivering whiskey?”
    His mother looked at her like she might be slow. “They were taking it to the customers.”
    Prudence forced herself to remain seated. She wanted to jump up and run outside to find Arch and demand he explain why he hadn’t told her that his brothers were bootleggers. Now the empty coffin made sense. What better way to transport illegal goods without being suspected?
    The rocking chair creaked as his mother put it into motion, expertly cradling the teacup so as not to spill a drop. “Childers make the best whiskey in these parts. Arch’s pa learned the secret from his granddaddy, and he taught the boys the trade.”
    Dear Lord…moonshiners, the whole family…including Arch.
    “I’m surprised Arch didn’t tell you.”
    He’d told her he wanted to have his own farm and raise horses. That was his dream. More like a convenient cover. “No, he didn’t tell me he makes whiskey.”
    “Oh, he don’t do the distilling. He delivers the whiskey and takes care of the customers. Handles the finances. He’s rounded up a good business out here in Kansas.” Mrs. Childers spoke with pride, as if bootlegging were an honored profession rather than a scourge on mankind.
    Marry a child of the devil and you’re going to have problems with your father-in-law.
    The old Puritan saying pretty well summed it up. That Arch made moonshine, or sold it, was bad enough. He tempted her to give in to sinful urges. He’d hidden the truth about his livelihood, even after she’d shared her sentiments concerning whiskey. He believed he was above the laws of God and man.
    Prudence stared into her cup. Tiny specks swirled in the dark liquid. She didn’t have to read tealeaves to know their future. They didn’t have one…not together.
    The sound of footsteps at the open door drew her attention.
    “Sorry it took so long.” Arch set a pail along with a slab of bacon on the work surface next to the dry sink. “Thought we might need fresh milk, and we can fry up some