Sanctified

by Maggie Blackbird

  She’d also gladly participated in the protest two summers ago Clayton had led against the church—when they’d demanded chief and council stop paying the parish’s hydro bill, rescind their decision to fund Healing the Spirit, and stop giving money to the church.

  “Here we go.” Jude held out a paper cup.

  Raven eyed the industrial-style coffee machine, the same kind Cookie had at the diner. Very expensive. Who’d paid for it, if the church forever complained how broke they were?

  “What is it?” Jude turned to the coffee machine.

  “Nothing.” Raven shrugged. “When did this get remodeled?”

  “Six years ago.”

  “Six?” Her blood heated a notch. Again, band council had forked out cash to the church when Clayton had said there was no such funds.

  “I take it you don’t approve.” Jude leaned against the counter.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “You’re frowning.” The inquisitive look vanished. “I was hoping to... ah... generate something other than a frown.”

  The heat left Raven’s blood, and warmth caressed her tummy. “What were you hoping to generate?”

  He used his elbow to shove off the counter. His lips spread into a sly grin as he swaggered over to her, strong thighs gliding one in front of the other, and his chin angled slightly downward while gazing at her through a thick fringe of lashes. “A smile... perhaps.”

  Raven used her tongue to trace the rim of her mouth. Something maddening and exciting fluttered between her legs. “A smile. That’s it?” She stood on her toes, leaning a smidgen forward. “I thought you’d ask for a little bit more.”

  “Well, we’re in a church. A smile’ll suffice.” He kept grinning.

  For once, she, Ms. Expert at Flirting, couldn’t find a comeback, even after searching her blank mind. No, not blank. The word sex kept blinking on and off in her brain like a cheap neon sign outside a Motel Six.

  Hand trembling, Raven lifted the paper cup and sipped the coffee. “This is... um... very good. Rich. Where’d you get it?”

  Jude snickered. “C’mon.” He motioned at the door. And he didn’t saunter ahead. Instead, he waited for Raven to vacate the kitchen and walked by her side.

  They headed for the indoor staircase where the lift chair was available for disabled parishioners. She sat in one of the comfy armchairs. There was a small, circular wooden table where she could set her coffee cup.

  “Where’d you get it?” Raven held out her cup.

  “Coffee Coffee.”

  Coffee Coffee? That was Canada’s biggest chain, known for its fine roasted brew.

  “This stays between you and me. I donated the coffee.” Jude sipped from his cup.

  “You did? You do?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “My father’s a deacon here. I made a more than generous salary at the time. There’re people here who’re like family. I give to, uh... many charities on a regular basis.”

  This was something new. Sure, there were food drives and stuff happening on the reserve, and everyone pitched in to help if someone lost a loved one.

  “Which charities?”

  “A few.” Jude glanced away and picked at some imaginary lint on his pants that had a strong crease down the middle. “Catholic Northern Missions. The Open Door. It’s a shelter for the homeless in Thunder Bay. My weekly donation to Saint Patrick’s Parish. I’ll switch it over to here now. Cancer Care for Kids. The Diabetes Association.”

  “I bet you donated to Healing the Spirit.”

  “Yep. It’s not something I talk about. I keep my monetary donations to myself.”

  “What else do you donate?” Raven’s previous boyfriends hadn’t bothered to give to anyone or do anything for others.

  “My time. You volunteer. Darryl told me, even though you have a busy schedule, you helped the young girls who belong to the Traditionalists Society by teaching them about their culture.”

  “I... did.” Something tight seemed to wrap around Raven’s ribcage, and she forced out the words. “I help out where I can. I keep the recovery meetings open.”

  “You chair them?”

  Raven nodded. “We have three a week. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. There’s talk about a Saturday meeting. Weekends are hard for people in recovery.”

  “I bet they are.” Jude pursed his lips. “My brother-in-law’s a recovering alcoholic.”

  “Adam. We go way back.”

  “So you’ve said. Bridget mentioned he attends meetings here when they’re visiting, if a meeting’s available.”

  Raven worked off her mukluks. She drew her legs up against her chest. All she needed was one of the blankets she’d crocheted. “I put in my name for a place. I’m hoping I can get something.”

  “Where do you live now?”

  “My mom’s.” Raven’s skin went cold. “You know about the housing shortage on reserves.”

  “I sure do.”

  “I doubt I’ll get my own pad. Housing always goes to families first.” And she’d be stuck at Mom’s, the very place she’d run from at sixteen.

  “It’s understandable. Parents need a place for their children. Is that whose truck you have? Your mom’s?”

  “Yeah. She doesn’t lend it to me very often. She thinks I’m going to fall off the wagon and wreck her vehicle.”

  “You live in Old Main then. That’s where the Kabatays live, right?”

  “Yep.” She tilted her head. “The more I talk to you, the more I had you pegged wrong. I thought you were very serious, much like your dad. One of those strict Catholics who thinks everyone’s sinning. But you’re friendly and you like to tease.”

  “I’m the eldest child. Teasing and tormenting my younger siblings is part of the big brother job description I take very seriously.” Dimples crept onto his face. “As for being a super-strict Catholic, I’m divorced, aren’t I?”

  “Through no fault of your own. Can you still go to church? Isn’t divorce a sin?”

  A smidgen of red tinged his cheeks. “My ex started the annulment proceedings.”

  “Annulment?”

  “If approved, the church will deem the marriage null and void. If it’s approved...”

  “I see.” She fingered the cup’s rim. “Are you happy about that?”

  “I really don’t mind.”

  Raven’s mouth dried. If they engaged in sex, Jude would be sinning until this annulment thing was approved. Yet, he’d asked her for a date after class. He did really like her.

  Chapter Eight: Let It All Begin

  Jude hadn’t noticed before, but there was sadness within Raven, a loneliness he’d never seen until tonight. Although he’d taken courses on drug and alcoholism addiction as part of his professional development, Emery might know more. He did have his BSW and was starting his second year for his master’s. Since little brother was traveling with Jude to Thunder Bay, maybe they could talk on their way home.

  “What’re you doing this weekend?”

  “Working. Homework. I want to get caught up on my math lessons since I now understand analytic geometry a little better, thanks to a fabulous teacher.” She fluttered her lashes.

  She sure knew how to plump a man’s ego. Jude couldn’t help his grin. “If you run into problems, text me. I might be out of service sometimes, though.”

  “Sure.”

  “Well?” Jude withdrew his phone. “Here’s mine.” He flashed the numbers on the screen.

  Raven withdrew her phone. Her cherry-painted lips formed into a smirk. “Here’s mine.” She held up the phone.

  “What’s so funny?” He typed on his keypad.

  Using her long nails, she also typed away. “You. Was the text me if you have problems your sly way of getting my number?”

  “Honestly, no. But it worked in my favor, didn’t it?” Jude chuckled. “I do sincerely want to help if you need me.”

 
; “Then if I need you, I’ll text. When’re you driving back?”

  “Sunday morning after the... uh...” How he’d give anything to skip church, but if he did, he’d get raised eyebrows from Emery and Bridget. “... nine o’clock church service. We’re staying at Bridget’s. It’s a three-bedroom home. Emery and I get to fight over who gets the pull-out bed in the living room and who gets the air mattress.”

  “The kids have the spare room? I know Adam has a son.”

  “Their son. Bridget adopted Kyle.”

  “Cool. What about you? Will this stepdad have a say in your kids’ life?”

  A flash of red heat invaded Jude’s chest. “No. I’m the parent. Charlene’s the parent. He makes no decisions whatsoever.” It was a good thing he didn’t point his customary finger. A high five was well-deserved.

  “I just wondered, that’s all. Clayton has a say in raising Tyrell, even though he’s only the step-uncle.”

  “But they’re fostering Tyrell, aren’t they?” Which was far different from Jude’s situation.

  “Yep. His mom’s in Vancouver somewhere. Drugs. Drinking. I hope she gets clean, but Tyrell’s been with Clayton and Tanya since he was eight. He’s in high school now. Grade nine.”

  “I’ll most likely meet him. I’m having a special assembly when I return. I’d like a chance to meet everyone, and for everyone to meet me during a sociable time. Basil Skunk and Darryl are going to have a special ceremony to welcome me to the school.”

  “Really?” Raven’s reddish-brown smooth skin brightened. “You’re okay with it?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “You’re Catholic.”

  No, I’m not Catholic. I’m not... anything. “Just because I’m Catholic doesn’t mean I don’t recognize my culture. When the Indigenous Women’s Alliance held their protest walk in the city for the children in foster care, I was more than glad to participate.”

  “Yeah. Saw you there.”

  “Saw you there, too.”

  Raven’s mouth widened into a deep smile. She sat straighter, shaking back her long hair. “And?”

  “I was married at the time.”

  She waggled her sleek brows. “I must say I rather like your answer. Even though your marriage was in the dumps, you were still loyal to your wife.” She squinted. “I don’t get it.”

  “Get what?”

  “Why your wife let you get away.” Raven sipped more coffee.

  “I guess I have a lot of faults, or so someone told me.” His voice was dryer than the desert, pretty much how the end of his marriage had left him feeling.

  “Your ex-wife?”

  Jude nodded. Funny, he’d revealed more to Raven than to his own brother and sister—heck, his whole family.

  “I prefer to find out for myself.” Raven shrugged.

  “Find out what?”

  “All those horrible things your ex must have said to you.”

  Jude half snickered and half snorted. “I’m a stubborn, domineering, tight-lipped man who doesn’t speak enough about his feelings but expects everyone to divulge theirs to me.”

  “I heard lots, and we only officially met on Tuesday.”

  “I heard lots, too. Like why’d you stop? What shook you back into reality?”

  Raven’s slim jaw stiffened. “I was sick of it.” She shuddered and cupped her shoulders, as if transported to the awful place she thought about. “I woke up dope sick. Really dope sick. Unless you’ve been dope sick, you’ll never understand. Sully... he wouldn’t give me any more. He said I was cutting into too much of the profits. I... I started doing stuff I shouldn’t have.” She glanced away.

  “Stuff like what?”

  “You don’t wanna know.” Her voice was smaller than her rounded shoulders.

  “Try me.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “If I told you, you’d be running out the church door. Shit. What I say might burn down the church.”

  “A lot of people sit in these chairs to speak about their feelings.” Jude patted his armchair. “I’m sure what you have to say won’t be any worse than what they needed to talk about.”

  “Religious people don’t sin.” Her scowl was part sneer and part disgust. “They’re almost perfect—”

  “Don’t sin?” Clayton must’ve given Raven this false information. “Do you know why people attend church?”

  “Because they’re perfect little Catholics.” She flicked her hand.

  “Wrong.” Jude couldn’t help the natural authority jumping into his voice, as if he was standing in front of a class. “Why do you attend twelve-step meetings? Are you a perfectly sober person?”

  “Perfect?” Raven’s eyes bulged. “I attend because I couldn’t manage my own life. I messed up bad. I’ve always been a screwup.”

  “And what do these meetings give you?”

  Raven’s chest sank. She kept her knees drawn against her breasts while rubbing her foot along the cushion she sat on. “Peace.”

  “That’s why we attend church.” Well, why I used to. And why am I defending the damned church? “It’s not very different, is it? We both worship a higher power. I’m not sure what you call yours. I call mine God.” Well, he used to.

  “I call mine Gitche Manidoo. Or Creator.”

  “You never answered my question.” Jude shouldn’t prod, but he needed to know the truth.

  “You mean about what I did? All the evil skeletons—Wait, they’re not skeletons. Everyone knows what I did. Ask around.” Raven stared at her coffee cup, hair falling around her face.

  “I won’t judge you like the others did.” But would he? Was he ready to hear her answer? Yes. Like the adulteress woman the scribes and Pharisees had condemned for her sinful ways, so had the people of Ottertail Lake judged Raven. Jesus had told the woman to go and sin no more. In her own way, through twelve-step meetings and her culture, Raven was doing her best to go and sin no more.

  Shit, now he was thinking about the Bible. Damn the Catholicism Mom and Dad had poured into his blood.

  “I used men for drugs, for money. Whatever they could get me.” Raven’s voice didn’t shake. Her hands never trembled. She stared straight ahead, chin lifted.

  “Used?”

  “I fucked them.” Her voice didn’t rise in anger. Never lowered in shame. Her tone remained even. “Sorry. I’m in a spiritual place. I shouldn’t swear. I’d never swear in a sweat lodge, so I’d better keep my language G-rated.”

  “The sanctuary’s upstairs.” Jude pointed upward. “We’re in the basement.”

  “It’s still a spiritual place.” She turned her head, gaze cold and smooth like a frozen lake. “And if you ask me how many men I slept with, I can’t tell you, because I never bothered counting. They were a free pass to what I wanted at the time.”

  Jude nodded.

  “Now you know the truth.” The only hint at her nervousness was the twitch of Raven’s foot. “What about you? I expect you didn’t sleep around.”

  “I was nineteen when I met Charlene. You do the math.” Jude grinned. He wasn’t ashamed the only woman who’d seen him undressed was his ex-wife.

  “That’s not going to take analytic geometry to figure out.” Raven’s coy smile appeared. “I’m honored.” Her voice was rich in respect.

  “Honored?”

  “That a man like you, who’s very... um, choosy, asked me for a date tonight.” She raised the cup. “You make a mean pot of joe.”

  “Brewing the coffee in the morning was always my job. It still is.”

  “So...” She wet her lips. Someone was moving into vixen mode. It was rather nice to see Raven being Raven again. “You’d brew me a cup of coffee?”

  “If you spent the night?” Jude’s throat dried. He squirmed. The itch in his pants resurfaced. “I’d even cook you breakfast. I make a mean steak and eggs.”

  “Steak and eggs sounds awesome.” She slid her long nails into a few black strands of hair.


  Something tugged at Jude’s insides. Something tugged at his mouth. Want. Need. His palm ached to caress Raven’s shiny black hair. His lips yearned to taste the tongue that had licked at a droplet of coffee sitting on the rim of the paper cup Raven held.

  What about the kids, though? He gripped the cup. They’d be devastated. They needed more time. Maybe he also needed time. When he’d moved up here, a relationship was the last thing on his mind. And he sure hadn’t counted on Raven Kabatay to sashay into his life.

  They were hiding in the church basement for a reason—to avoid gossip. Her family hated his family. He couldn’t even tell her about being Darryl’s campaign manager for the election, because her brother was running for chief.

  “What is it, Jude?” she whispered.

  Her supple words caressed the shivers along his back, caressed the ache in his pants threatening to bulge, caressed his hands holding the cup.

  Enough of torturing himself. He set the cup on the table and leaned in, clasping his fingers.

  Her black eyes studied him, a hint of curiosity lurking in their dark depths.

  “I’m going to kiss you, Raven, if I may.” The pounding of Jude’s heart battered his chest. Was he downstairs in the basement at Jennifer Mayman’s birthday party, ready to kiss her because she’d boldly dared him to as a gift? With the way his stomach lurched, his intestines twisted, and his blood raced, he was again a silly twelve-year-old ready to experience his first kiss.

  “I... I...” Raven’s slanted eyes widened. “I never had a guy outright ask me.”

  “I’m asking.” Jude heaved out a racing breath.

  Raven set aside her coffee. Her slim socked feet glided against the floor. She also leaned in, wetting her lips. “Yes.” The word was a delicate hiss.

  Jude shifted to his knees and snuggled between Raven’s spread legs. He set his hand on her thigh that quivered beneath his palm. The heat from her crotch warmed his stomach. He glided his other hand behind her neck. Raven’s ultra-long false eyelashes fluttered. He gazed at perfectly applied makeup. A light dash of shadow on her lids. A darker and heavier application in the crease. And a glittering golden-white shade beneath her black brows. Gorgeous. Damn, she was sexy with the tipped liner running across the bottom of her lids.