by Kate L. Mary
Father David mounts the platform and begins to speak. His voice shakes when he tells the Children the bad news, cracking and sounding so genuine I can’t keep my eyes away from him. There are tears on his cheeks, and he’s gripping the podium in a way that makes it seem like it’s the only thing keeping him on his feet. If we hadn’t just had that conversation in his office, even I might have been convinced he cared.
He tells the Children I found Mother Ruth collapsed in the hospital, making a big deal about what a comfort I was to her in her final moments. Then he talks about how this was God’s will, because the Children would soon have a new Mother, and his words feel like chains wrapping around my wrists.
When he asks David and me to join him on the platform, I don’t remember getting to my feet, but suddenly I’m halfway down the aisle and everyone is watching, their eyes burning into me, making the room spin. David is already standing next to his father, and even though his mother has just died, he smiles as he waits for me to reach him, holding his hand out. For me.
Blond hair grabs my attention when I’m still four rows from the front. I look away from David long enough to meet Jared’s gaze. Everything inside me crumbles like a piece of paper being balled up and tossed aside. I have to force myself to face David again. To face my future.
When I reach the platform, David takes my hand. It’s like fire licking at my skin where our hands touch. He puts his arm around me and pulls me close, which makes my already trembling legs shake even more. It takes every ounce of strength I have not to push him away and run from the room. My stomach turns, and for a horrible second I’m sure I’m going to be sick.
I blink and find myself staring into Jared’s eyes. The second it happens, some of my nausea eases. His eyes dart between David and me. Jared frowns, and when his gaze locks with mine again, there is so much pain in those gray-brown eyes that he seems on the verge of drowning in it.
Father David keeps talking, and the longer I focus on Jared, the more tension leaves my body. The shaking in my limbs fades, and so does David. There’s nothing left but Jared and me. No Children, no commune, no wall. Just the two of us, clinging to each other and the knowledge that in just a few hours we can be alone and forget all this.
It isn’t until the men stand to leave and Jared tears his eyes away from me that I realize Father David has stopped talking.
“Are you okay?” David asks, his lips practically touching my ear.
His voice is far away, but the hot air that sweeps over my face makes me jerk back. Jared’s blond head disappears into the crowd, and the ache in my heart spreads through my entire body.
“Willow?”
I turn and find David’s eyes red and swollen.
Is he actually sad? It never even occurred to me that he might have an ounce of real emotion in him.
“I’m fine,” I say.
It’s a lie, though. I’ll never be okay.
We stand in silence while the women file out, and when they’re finally gone, Father David turns to us. “I expect the two of you to be next to me during the funeral tomorrow.”
We nod in unison, and I take the opportunity to extract myself from David’s grasp. “I’ll need to head up to the hospital. I have more duties now.”
My fiancé flinches but nods.
He really is upset about his mother. It’s nice to know someone is, but the knowledge that he has feelings doesn’t make him any less despicable in my eyes.
Chapter 14
My mother and I are in the middle of clearing the breakfast dishes when there’s a knock on the door. I stay focused on my task, ignoring George’s grunt as he hauls himself to his feet.
His lumbering footsteps stop, and a second later the door opens. “Good morning!”
He’s never spoken to my mother or me that way, and it’s the almost friendly tone in my stepfather’s voice that makes me turn.
When David steps in, my fingers tighten on the plate in my hand.
His gaze moves across the room, stopping on me. “I thought we could walk to the cemetery together.”
The funeral.
I’ve been dreading this moment since Father David brought it up yesterday. I’m already exhausted from staying late at the hospital, and just the mention of the funeral makes my whole body feel weighed down. Last night, I spent hours following Dr. Jones around after closing time, learning Mother Ruth’s duties. I had no idea she did so much. The only positive note is that part of my job is to clean up after the doctor goes home, which will give me a good reason to be away from home more often. An excuse I plan to take full advantage of.
“Of course,” I say, doing my best to sound polite. “Thank you.”
David waits by the door while I hand the plate to my mother. When I head his way, he smiles. My feet are like two boulders, and it seems to take forever to cross the room. When I finally get to him, David reaches out, and even though my body is screaming to run, I can’t move. He doesn’t touch me, though. He’s only reaching for the door.
We leave the house and head toward the cemetery, walking side by side down the main road. I try to keep a good distance between us, but David steps closer. His arm brushes mine, and it suddenly feels like a swarm of bees is buzzing in my stomach.
We’re the first ones at the cemetery. He stops just outside the fence, but I move to the right, walking toward the willow tree. I brush my hand against the flowing branches, letting them twist between my open fingers. If only Jared was here with me instead of David. If only we were alone, and I could allow his comforting presence to soothe this unease away.
“That’s a pretty tree,” David says, his breath tickling my back and making me jump.
I press my lips together and twist one of the branches around my fingers when it occurs to me that he has no idea this is a willow tree. I won’t tell him. This tree is mine. And Jared’s.
David’s warm breath rustles my hair when he leans closer. He touches my shoulders, and every muscle in my body turns to ice. His hands move slowly down my arms, and I squeeze my eyes shut to block out the memories, frozen. Terrified.
“Why do you pull away when I touch you?” he asks, turning me around to face him. “Don’t you love me?”
My eyes fly open. He’s frowning, watching me.
What am I supposed to say to that? I swore to Father David that I’d go along with this, but I can’t tell this monster I love him any more than I can pretend his touch makes me happy.
“What is it?” David asks, reaching out to touch my shoulder again. When I flinch, his frown grows deeper.
I swallow and desperately search my brain for something to say that won’t be a lie. “We’re not married.”
“That didn’t matter to you that night in the barn,” he says, and this time when he runs his hands down my arms, I’m too shocked to pull away, “when I rescued you from the ranch.”
Once the shock wears off, I pull away from him and stumble back. The branches of the willow brush against my back when they blow in the wind, making everything seem surreal.
How could he have thought I consented that night? I was crying. Wasn’t I? I know I begged him to stop. Is he delusional enough that he couldn’t hear those things? He’s staring at me, waiting for a response, and the sincerity in his eyes makes it impossible to talk for a full thirty seconds.
“Don’t you remember that night?” I ask. “Don’t you remember how I cried and begged you to stop?”
David shakes his head. “That’s not what happened. You were crying, but it was because you were happy to see me. I saved you.”
“No, David. It was because I didn’t want you to touch me.”
There’s a good chance this will get me in trouble with Father David, but it’s a risk I have to take. I won’t pretend I enjoyed what he did to me.
He stares at the ground while he gnaws on his bottom lip, but seconds later, his confusion is gone and he’s smiling again. “No. It was because you were sick. You were just confused. But you’re right. W
e aren’t married. We have to wait. It’s less than two weeks now, not long at all.”
He brushes his hand across my cheek before walking toward the small cemetery, leaving me alone next to the willow tree. I’m too shocked to move. By his words, but also by my courage. Maybe I’m not as weak as I thought I was. Maybe one day I’ll be able to fight back.
I will get out of here.
This time when I think the words, hope swells in my chest. I’m stronger than I ever thought I could be, and I have family out there. Things could work out after all.
A truck pulls up, and Father David climbs out of the cab. His eye catches mine, and he lifts his brows before turning away. Heading for the back of the truck where Mother Ruth’s body is laid out, wrapped in white cloth. Father David watches in silence as four elders work together to carry his wife to the cemetery. David, my future husband, is already there, standing beside the waiting hole when the men lower his mother’s body into it.
I take my place at my fiancé’s side as more and more people arrive. He’s too close, and every time he moves, his arm brushes against mine.
The only thing that stops my body from collapsing in a ball of tremors is finding Jared in the crowd. Our eyes meet, and the pounding in my heart becomes softer, more welcome. He’s in the center of the crowd, directly in my line of sight, and focusing on Jared’s gray eyes is all it takes for David to fade. Jared makes me feel stronger, more hopeful, and having something new to care about has helped me see things in a different light. Helped me see myself in a different light.
Father David’s words capture my attention, and I tear my gaze from Jared’s. Our leader is watching me, talking about my upcoming marriage. He seems to talk slower, emphasizing his words so they have time to sink in. Probably hoping they cripple me.
Two weeks.
That’s all the time I have left.
My throat burns, and when I turn back to Jared, his eyes search mine. I have to fight to keep the tears away. There’s no comfort in looking at him now because I know soon I’ll be married and Jared will be a thing of the past. When that happens, there will be nothing for me but David.
The weekend passes, and I don’t see Jared for more than a few minutes, and even then it’s across a crowded room. Every passing hour hurts more than the last. We’re running out of time, and I’m impatient to tell him about Mother Ruth and the things Father David said to me. I’m not used to having someone I can confide in, and having it ripped away after such a short time is torture.
Monday evening, I’m out the front door only ten minutes behind Dr. Jones. I didn’t do half the things I’m supposed to, which will make the doctor furious tomorrow, but I can’t care. Not when I have the chance to see Jared.
I make it to the willow tree just after six o’clock and glance over my shoulder before ducking through the branches. Jared is already there, leaning against the trunk lazily, and I’m rewarded with a crooked smile that makes my heart jump to my throat.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t be here.” I’m gasping from my trek across the commune, but somehow I manage to force the words out.
He pushes himself off the tree and walks toward me, almost tentatively. “I wouldn’t dream of missing it. I wanted to see you.”
His words make me beam, and the smile that stretches across my face is so foreign it hurts. I could live a thousand lives and never understand the feeling inside me, but right now I don’t care. I just know something in me aches to be with Jared, and I want to make the most of it.
“I’m not going to be able to come here every day.” I take a small step closer to him, wanting to reach out but unable to make myself. “Things are different now that Mother Ruth is dead. I have a lot of work to do.”
Jared’s mouth turns down. “I still want to see you.”
“I know. We’ll have to come up with something different. I have to stay at the hospital and clean up after Dr. Jones leaves. I won’t be able to leave until dinnertime.” I tug at the loose string on my cardigan, making it worse but not caring.
There has to be a way to keep Jared in my life.
“Then I’ll come to you,” Jared says, stepping closer to me, almost reaching out to touch my arm. But he stops himself.
I stare at his hand while I fiddle with my sweater.
Do I want him to touch me? A part of me does. To experience what it would be like to have his arms around me, his warm skin against mine.
But there’s another part of me that turns into a scared fifteen-year-old at the very idea.
“I don’t know if that will work,” I say, still looking at his hand. “We could get caught.”
“We’ll talk about it later.”
When he reaches out this time, he takes my hand and leads me toward the tree. My skin tingles, but I only tremble a little. Jared’s hand is warm, and his calloused skin rubs against mine, but it’s nice. Not harsh or threatening.
Together, we sit on the ground at the base of the trunk, and when he releases my hand, I flex my fingers, mourning the loss of his warmth. He leans his head against the tree and shoots me a crooked grin.
“I’ve been dying to be alone with you,” I say, trying to put some of my feelings into words. Most of them are too confusing for me to understand, let alone voice. I just know I want him near me. Now and maybe for the rest of my life. “It’s so hard, seeing you across the room and not being able to talk to you. I hate it. This place feels more like a prison now than it ever did before.”
More than once while I talk, Jared moves his hand like he’s going to reach out to touch me, but he stops himself every time. The heat from when he grabbed my hand still hasn’t faded, and if he did it again, I know I’d allow it, but I’m not brave enough to make the move myself.
“Did you really find Mother Ruth?” he asks, his smile fading.
“I did.” Tears force their way out, slipping from the corner of my eyes and trailing down my cheeks. “She wasn’t sick, Jared. She cut her wrists and was almost dead when I found her.”
He sits up, and his eyes grow to twice their normal size. “She killed herself? Why would she do that?”
“Didn’t you ever see the way she looked?” I can’t wrap my brain around his shock. “It was obvious she wasn’t happy. I’ve lived here my entire life, and I’ve never even seen her smile.”
Of course, that’s not totally true. I did see her smile once, just before she died, and for some reason it helps ease some of the pain in my chest. At least she was happy in death.
Goose bumps rise on my arms when a horrible thought slams into me. Is that what my future holds? Will there be a time when death seems like the best solution?
“You’re not happy here either,” Jared says, drawing the words out like he’s choosing them carefully. “That’s not something you’ve considered, is it?”
That first year after I was brought back to the commune, I was depressed and lonely enough that the thought did enter my head. More than once. Even after things got better, there were times when I considered it. But now I’m glad I didn’t give in to that feeling. It’s not in me to give up. Isn’t my refusal to give in to Father David proof of that?
Then again, David is the one who can freeze me in my tracks with just one look. He’s my real weakness. How will I handle being with him every day, giving him access to my body on a daily basis? Will that be what finally drives me over the edge?
I swallow the lump in my throat. “No, that won’t happen to me.”
Convinced, Jared’s smile returns, and he once again leans his head against the tree.
At least I was able to convince someone.
The branches sway around us, and a cool breeze sweeps between them. I close my eyes and lift my head, letting the wind move my red hair across my face.
“I want to keep seeing you,” Jared says.
I open my eyes and smile. “Every free minute I have between now and the wedding.”
“No.” He shakes his head and scoots closer. “I mean after you
’re married.”
My mouth pops open, but I can’t find any words.
That’s something I’d never even considered, but thinking about it makes me feel like a handful of worms is wiggling around in my stomach. Could I still have Jared after I’m married? Could we make this work?
“I don’t know, Jared. It could be dangerous.”
I glance down at the string hanging off my sweater, resisting the temptation to pull on it. If I do, it could unravel the whole thing.
Just like getting caught sneaking around with Jared could unravel my life.
Still, if we could somehow make it work, it could mean keeping my sanity. I could have someone to talk to even after David and I are married. Plus, the pull Jared has on me makes it painful to even think about walking away.
When I look up and our eyes meet, every ounce of hesitation in me is caught on the wind and carried away. “I’m not sure how we’d make it work,” I say. “But there has to be something we can do.”
Jared scoots closer, stopping with less than six inches of space between our shoulders. I can actually feel the heat from his body, and even though it’s intoxicating, I’m glad he kept this space between us. We’re too alone under this willow tree, and no matter how I feel, I know I’m not ready to be that close to him. I’m too damaged. We need to take this—whatever it is—slow.
“We’ll figure out a way,” Jared says.
“Yes,” I reply then sigh when I glance toward the swaying branches and catch sight of the swiftly darkening sky. “I have to get home soon or George will be furious.”
Something in Jared’s expression changes. Hardens. “Does he hit you often?”
The icy tone of his voice catches me by surprise. He’s watching me, his eyes flashing with anger. I reach up and touch my eye, still bruised but fading with each passing day. This morning it was more yellow than purple.
