We invented a tale of a hero husband, a hero in the sense that he served. “I came to ask about the rumored miracles. Her face turned to stone. Not finished, she led me farther from the church. The women, their husbands all casualties in the war, had born sons in recent months. “You said you might help.” He reminded me. I stepped faster while maintaining a dignified air. “Bear your child private, Besha. They professed their Christian honor for me. Her anguish eased. Consistent rumors over the next three months, from different communities, inspired a truth of faith, especially when the rumors claimed the miracle sons resembled the lost fathers! It was how I would continue to earn my keep. I returned to the first woman’s home. “Shame on you, John Tuttle.”
For a moment, John’s face looked as if he were considering a stronger attempt on my honor. They ceased to call me, Daughter. “My father had been generous to my sons, with the money I earned. There was little time in the world to travel
