Building From Ashes
Page 88
How could she have forgotten? He made it too easy to forget. What was she thinking? He was a priest. A priest who loved her. Who she loved. She knew that. Here was a man she could spend eternity loving.
Marry me, Brigid.
Her heart screamed yes, and her mind said no.
“You can’t ask me that,” she whispered.
“I had a meeting with the bishop,” he said. “That’s the only reason I wore—”
“It doesn’t matter, does it?” Her voice was so small she barely heard it herself. “Whether you wear it or not, it’s there. I’m pretending that you’re free when you’re not.”
“You know when I was human—”
“But you’re not human, Carwyn!” She shook her head and felt tears in the corner of her eyes. “It’s not a thousand years ago. You’re devoted to something that will never accept us being together, whatever you might wish. And being with you goes against everything that I was raised to believe. Our time in Scotland. Even being together here… we’re pretending at things that can’t happen.”
“Pretending?” His eyes narrowed. “You think I’m pretending?”
“Not about your feelings. I’m not doubting those. But as long as you wear a collar, this is not going to work. However much you might want it too.”
“Brigid, you have to—”
“Loving you is a sin,” she whispered. She wanted to bite back the words as soon as they left her mouth.
“A sin?” A hard mask fell over his face. A dull anger came to his eyes as he stepped toward her and took the scarf from her hands. He dropped it on the ground and lifted her chin. “Loving me is a sin?”
She shook her head, trying to backtrack. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Do you know what I did the night I took my vows to the church, Brigid?”
She tried pulling away, but he had boxed her in. “No. And I didn’t mean—”
“I took my vows in front of my family, with my father blessing me and my mother watching proudly. And that night, I went home with my wife. With my Efa. And we prayed together. We smiled and laughed, and I kissed every inch of her body and made love to her for hours. I lay awake the whole night with my arms wrapped around her thanking God for blessing me with such a woman. And such a calling in my heart.”
Bloody tears slipped down her cheeks, and she looked away. Carwyn brushed them from her face and leaned down to place a single, chaste kiss on her lips. “I’m sorry.”
“Love is not a sin, Brigid. There is no shame in what I feel for you. When you understand that, please let me know.”
He released her and backed away, walking farther down the alley as she stood watching him in the night. He turned after half a block and said, “I may be going to Rome soon. My friends need my help and… there are things to see to. Will you think of me?”
Would she think of anything else?
“You know I will.” Brigid took a deep breath before she asked, “Do you still love me?”
A slow smiled crooked the corner of his mouth. “Course I do. I meant what I said, Brigid. Nothing is more important to me than keeping you safe. I’ll do whatever I have to do.”
“You meant what you said?” She swallowed the lump in her throat.
‘Marry me.’
She wanted to rush to him. To kiss him and hold him. To drag him back to her house and make love to him all night. But she knew it wouldn’t happen. And it shouldn’t. Not like that. Not for him.
Carwyn’s smile grew into a grin. “You know I meant every word.”
She couldn’t stop the smile that lifted the corner of her mouth. “I’ll be here. I’ll keep looking, too. Keep me updated?”
“As much as I’m able.” She started toward the opposite end of the alley, but turned when she heard his voice. “Brigid?”
“Yes?”
“Remind Murphy that I take care of what’s mine.” Then he winked and disappeared around a corner as Brigid frowned.
“Takes care of what’s ‘his?’” she muttered. “What, me? He’s talking about me? Ugh! That egotistical, bullheaded, infuriating…”
She was completely in love with him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Wales
April 2012
Carwyn sat at his kitchen table, listening to the chattering of Father Samuel as he filled him in on the activities of the parish. The young priest had taken over the small cottage behind the church in town and was rapidly making changes in the village. There were church festivals planned and computer courses for adults taught by Father Samuel himself. Some of the women in the parish were using the church buildings to start childcare for the working mothers and an after-school program for the older children. The village was entering the modern age.
And the young priest was exactly the right man for the job.
Carwyn smiled and sipped the tea the young Englishman poured. Enthusiasm filled the air, and Sister Maggie was glowing. After another hour of visiting, the priest and the sister made their way back to the old house in the mountains. The moon was full over them and the ground was muddy from a spring shower that had fallen that afternoon.
“You should take a house in town,” Carwyn said. “You’ll be more use there than up at the house.”
She frowned. “Who’d watch over the place, then?”
Carwyn shrugged. “I’ll shut it up for a while. Probably best that I disappear for a bit so that the village forgets me, if you get my meaning.”
Marry me, Brigid.
Her heart screamed yes, and her mind said no.
“You can’t ask me that,” she whispered.
“I had a meeting with the bishop,” he said. “That’s the only reason I wore—”
“It doesn’t matter, does it?” Her voice was so small she barely heard it herself. “Whether you wear it or not, it’s there. I’m pretending that you’re free when you’re not.”
“You know when I was human—”
“But you’re not human, Carwyn!” She shook her head and felt tears in the corner of her eyes. “It’s not a thousand years ago. You’re devoted to something that will never accept us being together, whatever you might wish. And being with you goes against everything that I was raised to believe. Our time in Scotland. Even being together here… we’re pretending at things that can’t happen.”
“Pretending?” His eyes narrowed. “You think I’m pretending?”
“Not about your feelings. I’m not doubting those. But as long as you wear a collar, this is not going to work. However much you might want it too.”
“Brigid, you have to—”
“Loving you is a sin,” she whispered. She wanted to bite back the words as soon as they left her mouth.
“A sin?” A hard mask fell over his face. A dull anger came to his eyes as he stepped toward her and took the scarf from her hands. He dropped it on the ground and lifted her chin. “Loving me is a sin?”
She shook her head, trying to backtrack. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Do you know what I did the night I took my vows to the church, Brigid?”
She tried pulling away, but he had boxed her in. “No. And I didn’t mean—”
“I took my vows in front of my family, with my father blessing me and my mother watching proudly. And that night, I went home with my wife. With my Efa. And we prayed together. We smiled and laughed, and I kissed every inch of her body and made love to her for hours. I lay awake the whole night with my arms wrapped around her thanking God for blessing me with such a woman. And such a calling in my heart.”
Bloody tears slipped down her cheeks, and she looked away. Carwyn brushed them from her face and leaned down to place a single, chaste kiss on her lips. “I’m sorry.”
“Love is not a sin, Brigid. There is no shame in what I feel for you. When you understand that, please let me know.”
He released her and backed away, walking farther down the alley as she stood watching him in the night. He turned after half a block and said, “I may be going to Rome soon. My friends need my help and… there are things to see to. Will you think of me?”
Would she think of anything else?
“You know I will.” Brigid took a deep breath before she asked, “Do you still love me?”
A slow smiled crooked the corner of his mouth. “Course I do. I meant what I said, Brigid. Nothing is more important to me than keeping you safe. I’ll do whatever I have to do.”
“You meant what you said?” She swallowed the lump in her throat.
‘Marry me.’
She wanted to rush to him. To kiss him and hold him. To drag him back to her house and make love to him all night. But she knew it wouldn’t happen. And it shouldn’t. Not like that. Not for him.
Carwyn’s smile grew into a grin. “You know I meant every word.”
She couldn’t stop the smile that lifted the corner of her mouth. “I’ll be here. I’ll keep looking, too. Keep me updated?”
“As much as I’m able.” She started toward the opposite end of the alley, but turned when she heard his voice. “Brigid?”
“Yes?”
“Remind Murphy that I take care of what’s mine.” Then he winked and disappeared around a corner as Brigid frowned.
“Takes care of what’s ‘his?’” she muttered. “What, me? He’s talking about me? Ugh! That egotistical, bullheaded, infuriating…”
She was completely in love with him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Wales
April 2012
Carwyn sat at his kitchen table, listening to the chattering of Father Samuel as he filled him in on the activities of the parish. The young priest had taken over the small cottage behind the church in town and was rapidly making changes in the village. There were church festivals planned and computer courses for adults taught by Father Samuel himself. Some of the women in the parish were using the church buildings to start childcare for the working mothers and an after-school program for the older children. The village was entering the modern age.
And the young priest was exactly the right man for the job.
Carwyn smiled and sipped the tea the young Englishman poured. Enthusiasm filled the air, and Sister Maggie was glowing. After another hour of visiting, the priest and the sister made their way back to the old house in the mountains. The moon was full over them and the ground was muddy from a spring shower that had fallen that afternoon.
“You should take a house in town,” Carwyn said. “You’ll be more use there than up at the house.”
She frowned. “Who’d watch over the place, then?”
Carwyn shrugged. “I’ll shut it up for a while. Probably best that I disappear for a bit so that the village forgets me, if you get my meaning.”
