Chapter 9: Waiting

Two weeks passed and Jean had not returned. He hadn't written and everyone was beginning to fear the worst. Ruth especially felt the burden. She tried to carry on as if nothing was happening but inside her mind was rippling with scenarios of how her life could turn if she was left a widow so suddenly. She knew Jean had no relatives in america and that his fortune and property would be passed to her. However, she worried that since that would be the case, she would have an unwelcome swarm of men at her door.

On the fourteenth day after Jean's departure, Ruth's stomach was twisting. She stood on the back porch staring out at the path which led into the woods behind the house. She heard a bunch of men on the front porch and her heart stopped. She rushed in to see if they were there to bring bad news but it just Ben and a group of rowdy men. Her cousin Dan was there too.

"Before Jean left he told me there were a couple things that needed to be done in his absence," Ben assured her everything was alright.

"I'm assuming this is about that tree stump?" Laura spoke up.

"Where is that husband of yours, Mrs. Villeneuve?" one of the men said leeringly. Ben and Dan glared back at him. He muttered something under his breath that Ruth didn't quite catch. They all headed into the back of the house, passing Ruth on their way. She felt a hand brush against her bottom and she realized it was the same man who felt obliged to ask her about her husband. Laura caught what happened and grabbed Sarah before she caused a scene, pulling down the steps into the kitchen so she could cool off.

"Don't let him get to you," Laura said as she began plucking a chicken for dinner. Ruth sat down in a chair in the corner and began rubbing her eyes.

"Where is he, Laura?" Ruth asked, "I don't want to be left alone to the wolves."

They were wolves. Most of them at least. Men who preyed upon young women to claim them for themselves. To claim her, a young widow with her chastity in place and a massive fortune, was a prize. She tried not to become anxious. She wasn't even sure if anything had happened to Jean. He could have been having issues coming back that were unforeseen. He could be there the next day, she assured herself.

….

The men had been laboring with the tree stump for a few hours. They had dug and chopped and pulled as much as they could. They resorted to sitting down in the grass around it, staring at it in contemplation.

Ben saw Ruth coming out of the house with a jug of ale. She knew the men would be thirsty and decided to help them. He stood up quickly, knowing that if any of the men wanted to say anything to her about Jean's absence, they would think twice with him towering over them.

She handed the jug to the first man and they began to take gulps from it and pass it around. Ruth was tense. She could see the man who had harassed her, giving her the eye. She glared at him and took the jug back before it reached him, knowing that alcohol was probably the last thing he needed at that point.

"Maybe Jean went and found himself a new wife," he muttered under his breath, "one who isn't so witholding-"

Ruth dropped the jug onto the hard soil. The contents spilled into the ground. Ben shook his head at the man and Dan stood up. The man decided to stand also. Ruth turned around and looked his straight in the eyes.

"Say that to my face," Ruth hissed.

"I said you're withholding," he laughed, "maybe that husband of yours is going to bring home a new wife. In that case, you can move into my house. I'll teach you a few things-"

Ruth rushed at him and smacked him on the face so hard he fell to the ground in shock. Ben and Dan ran at her. They both grabbed her. Ben put his arm around her waist and picked her up as she flailed to get free and attack the man.

"Woah woah woah!" Dan shouted to ease the tension. The man she had attacked was ready to charge at her.

"Jeremiah! go home!" Ben shouted at him, "The only reason I haven't punched you is because you served with me in the war but don't test my patience!"

The man rubbed his cheek and stood up off the ground. Ruth grunted in anger and tried to reach for him as he passed her and Ben to leave. Ben held her back and ended up falling on the ground with her when he lost his balance.

"Perhaps loosening your corset would do your husband a favor!" he shouted back before he turned back around and walked off. Ben waited for a few seconds before letting of the small woman. She rushed after Jeremiah and Ben regretted letting her go.

"Ruth!" Dan shouted as he chased after her. Ruth caught up with the man and jumped him, pushing him down into the ground. She punched him in the face and pinned his arms down.

"If I ever hear you speak about me in that manner again-!"

"Damnit woman!" Jeremiah spat at her, "you need to learn your place!"

Ruth punched him again, "I am not an animal to be broken!"

Dan and Ben pulled her up off of him but Ben put his foot on Jeremiah's chest to keep him from getting up.

"Colonel, let me go," he said, "I'm leaving. That damn wild woman needs to be taught her place. Maybe if her husband forced her-"

Ben pressed his boot harder on the man's chest. He knew where Jeremiah was headed with that sentence. Laura came out of the house and held back a snort of laughter at the scene before her. Ben let Jeremiah go and he ran away. ruth began to calm down once he disappeared. Ben and Dan looked back at the men. They were all standing up, their mouths agape in shock.

…..

Two days passed and Jean still hadn't returned. Ruth began pacing the floor one morning as Laura watched her. Everything Jeremiah had said was beginning to entrap her. A knock on the door startled the both of them. Laura slowly opened the door to ensure that it wasn't Jeremiah. It was, however, someone Ruth didn't want to see. It was James. He put his boot in the door before Laura could close it in his face.

He had heard about the incident at the tavern. Jeremiah was being mocked for allowing a woman to hit him. James decided to check up on her after hearing that Jean had been gone for over two weeks.

"Ruth!" he shouted out. He saw her massive mane of red hair peek around the corner. She drew in a deep breath and motioned for Laura to let him in. Occum was sitting on the back porch carving a small piece of wood and she knew that if James tried anything, he would be there in a snap.

"Ruth, are you alright?" James asked concerned. Ruth was a bit thrown off at the worried tone in his voice.

Ruth walked into the parlor and he followed. She sat down on a settee and he joined by sitting in a chair facing her.

"My father is still quite mad," James said, "and now I've heard that your husband has been gone."

"And what else has been said about me around town?" Ruth scoffed. She knew that she was the butt of the joke in town.

"You beat Jeremiah Hawkins into the ground," James laughed, "is that true?"

Ruth glared at him, not answering.

"He hasn't heard the end of it, you know," he chuckled, "the men have been laughing at him down at the tavern."

"He made some unsavory comments," Ruth said coldly.

"Ruth-" James said, trying to find his words, "-have you heard anything about his whereabouts?"

"No," Ruth bluntly answered. She held back any sign of emotion.

"-if-" James said nervously, "if he does not come back-"

Ruth turned her face away from him and looked up at Jean's scabbard, which hung above the fireplace. She was suddenly shocked when James was on his knee in front of her.

"I should have asked you this before the war, honestly," James said, "if you find yourself a widow, be my wife."

Ruth stood up and walked past him. He stood up quickly and straightened his coat.

"Please, Mr. Wilkins, contain yourself," Ruth said coldly, "I wouldn't accept it. You stood by as my brother was burnt alive-"

"I cannot say sorry enough," James said anxiously.

"Please leave, Mr. Wilkins," Ruth said as she left the room, heading upstairs. James walked away slowly.

"I loved you," James said. Ruth stopped at the top of the first flight of steps and looked down at him.

"I still love you," James blurted out. He had been wanting to say it for the longest time.

"Please, Mr. Wilkins, I am a married woman," Ruth said, "Try to remember some propriety."