Isabel stormed into Reverend Thomas' office at the back of the church, tossed the bolt of linen onto his desk, and braced her hands on her hips. He lowered his quill pen ever so slowly and raised his gaze to hers, a grin appearing at the sight of her. Chuckling, he clasped hands above his head and leaned back in his chair. "Pray tell, what happened to you?"
"I will not suffer it, I tell you!" Isabel stomped her boot, splattering mud over the wooden floor. Frederick whimpered and opened his eyes, and she rocked him as she paced in front of the reverend's desk. "I will not go into town again. You cannot force me."
Marlie entered the room, panting and looking distraught. She glanced at the reverend, the whites of her eyes stark against her bronze skin.
The smile never left the reverend's lips, but instead spread to his blue eyes with a sparkle as he continued to watch Isabel. "Seems you had a battle with a puddle of mud."