by L. J. Wilson
“It’s not that simple. Yes, part of what I have to tell you will be hurtful, but it’s not the only reason I’ve come... or even the main one. I need you to hear what I have to say—about the Fathers of the Right and—”
“Lies,” Ezra said, shaking his head. “You’ll tell me nothing but lies. And you think I’m stupid enough to listen. You’re right. I did speak with my father, but I also spoke with yours and several of the elders, Charles Ott, Nolan Creek.”
Sebastian slung his head back. “Great… all the monkeys in the circus.”
“At first, I argued. I defended you, Evie. I said the mission must have kidnapped you, taken you against your will. They didn’t convince me so easily. I trusted you more than that. Then Nolan Creek spoke up. I wanted so badly to call him a liar, to reach through the phone and throttle him. Call him names worse than he called you—”
“I could suggest a few,” Sebastian mumbled.
“But in the end,” Ezra said, “all I could do was hear them. Listen to how Brother Creek found the two of you together the night before you married me. As he said the words… the disgusting sin-filled words, all I could think is, ‘Why would he lie?’”
Evie closed her eyes—the answer so complex the argument was lost. Duncan Kane and his clansmen had done a fine job of protecting their stake in the world and in Ezra. Evie swiped at her tears, her hands smeared with dirt and blood and guilt. Her husband wasn’t completely wrong. And no one but Evie was to blame for setting the stage. It was true. She’d done a terrible thing because she loved another man. She stepped away from Sebastian, shirking his hold.
“Evie?” Sebastian said.
With a more complacent Evie in front of him, Ezra went on. “You’re right to lower your eyes to me. It’ll be some time, if ever, that you can look at me again. As it is, Father suspected you might try to contact me. I admit, I never thought you’d do anything as brazen as to show up— and dressed like you are…” He jerked his hand toward her, but Sebastian was right there. “Tell me, wife, did you come this distance to rub your filthy life and flimsy clothes in my face? Isn’t it enough to know you’ve made a fool of me and forsaken everything you know is right?”
“Exactly. Everything from the way I dressed to what I was taught, the rules we all blindly follow.” She stared silently for a moment. “I was never given a choice, Ezra—nor were you—about our lives or who we want in them. If you won’t listen, then I can only tell you how sorry I am to have hurt you like this. For whatever else they’ve filled your head with, you need to hear that much from me.”
“Evie,” Sebastian said. “This isn’t doing anybody any good. Let’s just go.”
“No,” she said, stepping farther from Sebastian. Both men looked startled. “Please, Bash. I need… I want to talk to Ezra alone.”
Evie glanced around the shack Ezra called home. The inside was tidy compared to the rest of the village—theological books on a shelf, a bible on a bedside table, a neatly made bed—a quilt his mother had sewn. The plain surroundings seemed more customary to both. They must have as Ezra looked at Evie’s bloody mouth, looking a little queasy himself. From a basin of water, he rang out a cloth and handed it to her. “I am sorry.” His blues eyes glistened and he blinked hard. “A few days ago the last thing I might have imagined is striking my wife. But a few days ago, I could not have envisioned the story I’ve been told.” Ezra thrust his hands to his slim waist and his gaze to the shack’s wooden floor.
She dabbed at her tender mouth. Evie did not think Ezra could deliver a harsher slap than his father. She was wrong. “I, um… I’m not sure where to start. I know how it must sound, Ezra. I don’t…” She stopped. A modicum of obedience might be best given the circumstance. “What is it you’d like to know—other than what you’ve been told?”
“I…” He closed his eyes and tipped his fair head toward the thatched roof. “God help me, Evie… I just want to wake up and have it all be a horrid nightmare.” Tears spilled down his face, and her own eyes welled at his pain. “Other than what’s now obvious, I want to know if you slept with him before you married me.”
She was surprised by his directness. “No. Not before he returned to Good Hope with the brothers. But I’d also not stand here and lie. It did nearly happen the night before I married you.”
“And am I to be grateful for that?”
“No. You shouldn’t be grateful and I shouldn’t be forgiven. But you should also know that after we were married, I tried, Ezra. I tried to forget him, to make our marriage work. I prayed so hard. I committed every part of myself to being your wife.”
“Then why didn’t it work?” His face was perplexed, like a child confounded by a rainy day. “Why couldn’t you just do as you were supposed to… as it was proclaimed by my father and our entire community?”
Evie stared, her bleeding mouth agape.
“Say it,” Ezra demanded, archaically, as if waiting for Evie to say, “witch.”
“I don’t…” Evie had dishonored so much that a reasonable explanation seemed out of reach. “Because what I feel for him is different than what I feel for you. I’m sorry. I don’t know how else to say it.” They were the gentlest words she could muster. Evie moved toward him. Ezra held out his hand, rejecting any offer of comfort. “Ezra, understand, it’s not a him or you question. I’ve known you all my life. Except for the past twenty minutes,” she said, pressing the cloth that still came away bloody, “we’ve been close. We’ve been the best of friends.”
“We are married,” he said, though it sounded more like a warning. “You made a vow before God. You’re bound to honor that, Evie—no matter what he’s told you.”
“He hasn’t told me anything. We haven’t even discussed… I insisted that Sebastian bring me here so I could talk to you myself. If you meant nothing to me, if my life in Good Hope were as false and sinful as they’ve told you, ask yourself why I would have bothered with this journey?”
“You’ve come to ask for what I’ll never agree to—an annulment of some sort. Our marriage is irrevocable. You know this. If I’m to live with that fact—so are you.”
“I’m aware.” It was something she’d not yet shared with Sebastian. Evie didn’t know if it mattered. Sebastian had been dumbfounded by the mention of children. She suspected marriage might result in the same reaction—a topic that was not part of the things he wanted. “It’s not why I came here. Though I am curious, this is what you want? To be married to a woman who openly chooses another man? I’m thinking of you, Ezra. You deserve someone who—”
Ezra’s stare burned into hers. “No matter what you’ve done… what you’ve chosen,” he said, his tone filled with contempt, “I am bound to you forever, Evie. As you can see…” He glanced at her flat stomach. “God has seen to it that any union—unholy or otherwise— will bear you no reward. Even if I am to suffer the same fate, loving you unrequitedly, I take solace in His punishment.”
Evie had no easy answer for that and she moved on. “Ezra, it’s not my wish to hurt you. I can’t say that I don’t love you.” It drew a hopeful glance from her husband. “But I don’t love you in the way…”
“In the way you love him.”
It was the bravest thing she’d ever heard him say. The swell in Evie’s throat wouldn’t let her swallow or agree out loud.
“And may I ask your plans?” he said. “You’ll what? Go off with him—live in some unthinkable state of sin, just wait to burn in Hell. It’s what will happen. You have to know that.”
“Maybe,” she said. “But at least I understand the truth I’m to live on Earth. There’s nothing good in anything I’ve come to tell you. But also know I couldn’t leave Good Hope and let you go on living so blindly. You’re right. I’m not here to ask for a divorce. I’m here because as much as you deserve honesty regarding your wife, you deserve no less when it comes to your father. You need to hear the rest of what I’ve come to tell you.”
Ezra had refused Evie’s Version of life in Goo
d Hope. She’d done her best to convince him that Duncan Kane and his missions were not what he and the other brothers believed them to be. She considered having Sebastian offer his input, but it only would have hardened Ezra’s denial. Her husband had flinched. But Ezra remained unconvinced when Evie told him about his father’s anointed sexual advance. But knowing him so well, Evie thought she’d seen a flicker of doubt. And that’s where they’d left it. At the edge of Otava, Ezra staring icily as his wife left with her lover.
They’d gone on to the town of La Carta—a place Sebastian seemed to know well. In a small hotel there was a room waiting for him. Exhausted, they’d dragged themselves across a turquoise-painted floor and fell into bed. Sebastian didn’t touch Evie that night, or the next, only to hold her close as she cried out of guilt and out of answers for a promised life that would never be lived. Rain had poured down since they arrived, adding to the bleak mood. In the gloomy days that followed, silence fell like a fog between them. Evie saw the bad weather as a good thing. It gave them something to discuss.
Neither broached the obvious: What, besides downpours, their future might hold. But without asking, Sebastian seemed to understand that the undoing of Evie’s marriage wasn’t to be. Lying in the bed, she looked across the brightly painted floor and out to the balcony. Sebastian sat there with a cup of coffee or a shot glass of something stronger, for hours now, a distant stare his only companion. Evie accepted that she was unwittingly the cause of immense suffering when it came to both the men she loved.
On the fourth morning, just as she wondered what would come next, Sebastian received a phone call. After hanging up, he told Evie he’d be gone a few days, possibly a week. Then, rather bluntly, Sebastian stated there was no “way in hell” she was going with him. If she fought him, he promised to put her in the Jeep and take her back to her husband in Otava. It illuminated the danger of Sebastian’s mission. When she asked exactly where he was going, he said, “To work. It’s why I’m here.” An hour later a soaking wet courier showed up at their hotel room. He brought an envelope and a damp duffel bag of weapons—just a sample of the truckload Sebastian would deliver. Like the vendors on the street below, apparently it was wise for Sebastian to be familiar with his wares.
“Good luck, Bash,” the courier said. “I fear you’ll need it on this one.”
Evie stood on the balcony, rain falling heavily behind her. It sounded like the beat of a war drum. Sebastian didn’t answer, only hustling the messenger out the door.
“Tell me you’ll come back,” she said.
“The envelope I gave you at the dock. You remember what I told you?”
“I remember.”
“Evie, I know you’ve been upset, but you need to understand, things may not get better from...”
“I’m fine,” she insisted. “There are a lot of new realities to adjust to. Your purpose here, despite our visit with Ezra, it’s the part I’ve feared most. I take it my fall from the fold hasn’t thwarted my father-in-law’s activities.”
“Seems not,” he said, crouched over the contents of the bag. He examined weapon after weapon—smaller handguns like the one Sebastian now carried everywhere they went and larger weapons that made the rifles in Good Hope look like toys. “I have a job to finish. I won’t lie to you. It’s dangerous and the outcome isn’t a guarantee. But Sam—the Delta Force operative I’m working with—there is an exit strategy. After I get through this run, assuming I get through it…”
Evie sucked in a breath as the rain fell harder.
“I’m going to push for an end to this. That I have something to… That I have to get back because…” He dropped a last gun into the bag. It hit the floor with the clank of rattling metal. “Jesus, Evie, you haven’t said a word… well, nothing that matters since seeing Ezra. Before I go… It would help if…”
“Help if what?” Evie’s thoughts emerged from the haze of rain and moodiness. If she could do anything to assure his safety, there was no question.
He stood. “I was in Good Hope long enough to learn how life works. The things that can be undone and… Well, those that can’t.”
She nodded, confirming that both understood the situation.
“So we’re a little stuck. I can’t ask what I really want…”
“What is it you want to ask?”
“I wanted to ask…” A breath filled his broad chest. It was nervous compared to his exchange with a mysterious courier toting a sack full of guns. “If things were different, know that I’d ask you to marry me.”
Sebastian’s solid frame, his strength inside and out, and all Evie could see was the glassy green of his eyes. She hurried across the turquoise floor, thrusting herself into his arms. “Yes. If I could…absolutely, yes, I’d marry you.”
It was a long, aching silence before the two finally made good use of the lumpy mattress. Sebastian didn’t leave an inch of skin untouched, Evie watching their hands link as rays of sun overcame the gloom, streaming in through the balcony. Again and again, she looked at their sunlit hands as Sebastian made love to her. She kissed him, fervently and often—making up for the previous days. There was no mention or use of the condoms he’d insisted on after those first times in the cabin. Evie wanted it that way, nothing between them. As his strong body overtook hers, in ways that Evie knew would forever leave her breathless and fulfilled, she looked once more at their tangled hands. Heated from the moment, warmed from the sun, Evie took it as a single sign. Perhaps hopeful rays of sunlight would be the only blessing their union would ever receive.
Nine long days later, Sebastian returned. Tension faded from his body when he saw her. In turn, Evie gasped at a sizable gash above his right eye. Better than the eye itself, he told her. She didn’t ask but only stared at other random bruises. He tried to deflect her attention, telling Evie about the successful raid. After delivering his weapons, but before he could exit the scene, SAM18 and his Delta Forces swooped in. Together they’d killed many rebel forces, Sam’s team taking others into custody. Evie stopped him. She said she didn’t want to hear of any more killings or those who’d come to kill. She only wanted him to know how relieved she was he wasn’t among the dead. On the nightstand, Sebastian noticed the envelope he’d given her when they docked. It remained sealed, but clearly she’d been thinking about it.
Needing a change of scenery, Sebastian suggested they sit on the balcony. He was appreciative, if not surprised by a fresh bottle of tequila. She didn’t drink any, only shrugging as she pushed the bottle and glass toward him. He filled it, asking how she’d come by the liquor.
“In town, of course,” she said. “I walked around a lot, met some of the people… learned a bit of Span—”
“Stop. You walked the town?” He hadn’t thought to insist she stay put while he was gone. Sebastian assumed it was understood. “Evie, you can’t do that. This isn’t a safe place. A million things could happen—these streets, the people, they’re unpredictable.”
“That’s nonsense.”
He blinked at her firm reply.
“Oh, I’m sure there’s danger. But those I met, they’re lovely people, Bash. Poor, in need…hopeful,” she said, crinkling her brow. “Most of them are Catholics, which was interesting. I even bought you a gift from one.” She left the balcony, returning with a small fabric pouch. “I thought it would look handsome on you—and it put a few pesos in the woman’s pocket.”
He opened it, smiling at her thoughtfulness. The last time someone bought him a gift, he thought it was a model airplane. Maybe he was ten. Inside the pouch was a length of leather, a native stone attached to it.
“It’s an unpolished emerald.” She popped up from her seat and insisted on fastening it around his neck. “There,” she said, admiring her gift and sitting again. “It’s perfect. Your dark hair, your eyes… your face, when it’s not been beaten to such a state.”
“Thank you. It’s not something I would have bought for myself,” he said, running his hand around the rugged piece o
f jewelry. “But, Evie, back to my point. Those streets are dangerous, and you can’t just—”
“You’re being overly cautious. They’re just people. In fact, I thought a great deal about what the Fathers of the Right could accomplish if aiding locals was their true mission. The people… Maybe not the ones you’ve come into contact with, but here in La Carta… They only want basic things—schools for their children and decent food. Not these heinous wars that drugs have brought to their country.”
She passionately went on to tell him a story of a woman villager whose husband had been murdered by guerilla forces. She’d been left with no money, no hope, and six children to feed. Sebastian listened as Evie cleverly laid out a strategy for delivering more than God’s word to a desperate population. He was impressed, Evie shrugging at his surprise. “Don’t be so shocked. I’ve spent twenty-one years listening to how missionary efforts should work.”
But Sebastian was also grateful that her adventurousness hadn’t resulted in more than deep thinking. “Anyway,” she said, finishing her story, “for all that’s not right in Good Hope, no one would let another starve.” Evie was saying something about giving the woman money to buy food when the cut above Sebastian’s eye began to bleed.
More like gush.
“It’s just not stopping,” Evie said, pressing a second blood-soaked cloth to his head. “Maybe if you were to lie down. That’s what the brothers did when they bled from head injuries—kicked by a horse or not moving fast enough from the swing of the hay bailer.”
“I don’t think lying down is going to cut it,” Sebastian said, a hissing sound seething through his teeth. “Sam wanted me to come back to basecamp, see the in-country medics, but that would have taken two more days. There’s a good doc in town. I’ve seen him before. Maybe we should go,” he said, looking at a cloth that now dripped blood.
