“Goddamn, how can be a man of the cloth, be so fucking handsome?” She then wondered what was on his mind. She started imagining sexy things and blushed. Maybe he is one of those dirty minded ministers who do more than console their flock. When they stood to sing the last hymn, she leaned over and said, “Mother, I think I will stay for dinner, beats cooking any day.” She tried not to let on she had an alternative motive.Cindy found herself enjoying the dinner and noticed it made her mom quiet happy. So she figured the day was not a total loss and it did not bruise her dignity too badly. When she went to get some pie for dessert, her mother joined her. Her mother leaned over and said, Cindy, I hope you do not mind me going over to Martha’s after dinner? She wants me to help her work on the quilt she is making for her daughter. Oh, don’t worry about how to get home dear, I have already asked the preacher if he would take you.” Cindy, almost dropped her plate and was about to yell,. It was clear what had happened. There had been some kind of accident in the fields, maybe involving a scythe, and one of the men had been injured. The convent infirmary was the only source of medical treatment in the area, and a steady stream of sick and infirm villagers entered its doors. Some of them even came out again.As Abigail was staring, the Abbess scurried past with a worried look on her face.“Sister Abigail, come with me,” she muttered. “Let us see what this clamour is about.”Abigail hurried after her. They entered the infirmary, and the three nuns who were already there stood aside gratefully as the Abbess bustled in. She was known and respected for her medical skills, and they were confident she would know what to do.The young man was sitting on one of the low beds, his hands held out in front of him. Abigail gasped despite herself, and even the Abbess seemed shocked for a moment. The man’s hands were hideously blistered and burnt.“It was the blacksmith’s fire, Mother.
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