In the buggy again, Rev. Jackdaw’s back throbbed. At other times, the pain fired and he held his breath as the spasm passed through. He cursed the rutted road, Nell for every pothole she dropped a buggy wheel into, and Effie for making the trip necessary.
He slapped the reins without thinking and flinched as Nell jerked and the buggy wheel at his side lurched up a stone and bounced down. Why did he keep finding himself married to women who couldn’t give him what he needed? Decades back, he’d broken his wrist and gone to a doctor to have the bone set. Hoping to find an elixir for his then wife, he’d asked the doctor. The quack suggested a man on his third wife and still with no children likely had “cartridges shy of a full load.” The sawbones even asked if he’d suffered an injury to that a
