Guardian's Faith

by Jacqueline Rhoades

  One family rule had meant disaster for the enclave. Lucien was interested in the idea. They would have to be people he could trust not to expose the People's secret, but he could work that out later.

  "Of course, if you do that, you'll be in deep shit with the Ruling Council," Canaan warned.

  "Yeah, but after a while you get used to the smell," Nardo laughed.

  "I'm not sure the Council knows that I exist. If it wasn't for the direct deposit to my bank each month, I wouldn't know they exist. I fill in my paperwork as required and they respond with the appropriate form letter." Lucien nodded to Canaan. "If they do know I exist, I believe I'll be sharing your deep shit anyway as I'll be mating a Daughter of Man."

  "So I've heard," Canaan laughed, "Over and over and over."

  "Congratulations," Nardo offered and then he laughed, too. "But be warned, you make her cry and my mate will be down there to kick your ass."

  "Since I've already been on the end of your mate's ass kicking abilities, I'll be on my best behavior."

  "That's my girl. Now, if you're really interested in these guys, you're going to have to get on line…"

  Faith was busy, too. Manon insisted they go shopping and she did for Faith as she did for the others; bought her an entire trousseau.

  She spent time with them all, sharing cookies and tea and wine, but she only saw Broadbent in passing and he never had time to talk. That broke her heart.

  When Grace insisted they all 'dress' for dinner, Faith wasn't surprised. She knew about the ritual that preceded a mating and while she didn't care about Lucien's worldly goods, she found it endearing that he would take the trouble to do this for her. Her surprise came after dinner when Canaan relinquished his seat at the head of the table to Broadbent.

  "He's the man you're closest to, so I asked him to stand for you," Lucien said quietly.

  "And I was honored to be asked," Broadbent added.

  Broadbent opened a thin folder of papers and choosing one, placed it, along with his fountain pen, in front of Lucien.

  “Guardian,” Lucien said bowing deeply. “Herein lies a full accounting of all my worldly goods. As Faith has no relative to speak for her, I ask that you act as her representative in this proceeding.”

  Broadbent loved formality. “I stand in her father’s stead. Are you making a public declaration of your intentions?” “Yes, my lord, and I intend to honor my commitment.”

  “As Faith is not a member of the Race, it is my duty to see that she is protected under the law. In front of these witnesses I ask, have you seen to her security and protection?”

  “Yes, my lord, I have.”

  “This is a full accounting of all worldly holdings of the Paenitentia Liege Lord, Lucien ad Toussaint, Guardian of the Race.” Broadbent opened the folder and made a ceremonial show of looking at each page. He looked at Lucien and frowned.

  “By Paenitentia law, Faith Parsons, Daughter of Man, will receive three-fifths of all holdings if the mating ends, whether it be through termination or death. The contract satisfies the law.” He looked at Faith. "However, I think you should know, he hasn't a dime that's free. It's all tied up in land and cattle and trusts."

  "It's all tied up in the land and the people," she corrected, "just where it should be. If I only wanted money…"

  "You would have mated me," Broadbent laughed and everyone laughed with him. He turned to Lucien. "I hope you've realized what a gem you've acquired, because if you haven't, I will personally take it upon myself…"

  "To kick my ass along with everyone else in this House," Lucien finished for him.

  "Well, I wasn't going to put it quite that way, but yes, kicking ass will suffice," Broadbent said without a smile though the others were laughing. When they settled down, he went on.

  “This contract must be signed by both parties and any witnesses to these proceedings. It will become binding at the completion of the mating ceremony. My Lord, please sign here and pass the document to your future mate for her signature.”

  Lucien signed and brought the paper to Faith. “I offer you all that I have, little as it might be. Will you sign?”

  "You've offered me everything, Lucien ad Toussaint. Give me that pen."

  Broadbent was the first to collect his congratulatory kiss. "Not one letter did you write to me, poppet. I thought we parted as friends."

  He was hurt and he had every right to be. "It won't happen again. I promise. You have no idea what's happened to me…"

  "And I expect to hear about it in your next letter."

  Their visit was everything she'd hoped it would be, but as the days passed, Faith found herself missing the hacienda more and more and when the day came to confront her father, she was eager to have it over and done. She was eager to begin her future.

  "Are you ready?" Hope asked as they stood outside the door to the little white church where they'd both grown up listening to their father preach.

  "As ready as I'll ever be," Faith answered hesitantly, smoothing down the front of her modest mid-calf dress. Both she and Hope had dressed in a way that wouldn't be offensive to the women of the Community. "I wish Lucien was here."

  "You told him not to come. I thought we decided this was something we had to do together."

  "I know and it is, but it would be easier if we had some musclebound back up."

  "You could pretend that I'm musclebound," Hope suggested and laughed when her sister snorted. Hope was anything but muscular.

  "While we're at it, we may as well pretend I'm six feet tall and intimidating. Do we call him by his real name or the name he's known by?"

  During the investigation it was found that their father was really one Sidney Dupinski with several outstanding warrants attached to the name. He'd stolen the name Reverend Samuel Parish Parsons straight from Arthur Miller's The Crucible, which the two sisters found fitting given what they were about to do.

  "We call him Father. It's what he is, whether we like it or not."

  Holding hands, supporting each other as sisters should, they walked through the doors of the little white church to face the Community of Saints.

  Their father, who'd just finished his long and drawn out opening prayer, greeted them with an accusing finger pointed in their direction.

  "Be gone! You have turned your back on these fine people with your whoring ways. Children of my loins though you may be, I'll not have you sully this church or its congregation with your sins. You are not wanted here. You do not belong."

  "But we do, Father! We've seen the error of our ways. We've come to confess," Hope said in a loud, but very repentant sounding voice. "We want this congregation to hear us and hope they find it in their hearts to forgive us."

  Reverend Samuel Parish Parsons' angry face changed to one of triumph. "You admit you have sinned? You wish to come back to the fold? Do you renounce the lives you've led that brought you into sin?"

  "We are ready to confess, father." Faith clutched her sister's hand and nodded. She was there to renounce the life she'd led with him. "We both are."

  Their father nodded and folded his hands. He bowed his head as if in prayer and then raised his hands above his head. "Let us rejoice for the Shepherd has returned to us two lambs that were lost."

  Sister Francis, at the piano, began a quiet rendition of Amazing Grace while the congregation murmured Amen and Praise Be.

  "I confess that you beat me," Hope called out above the murmurs. "You beat me with your belt until I bled. Would you like to see my scars?" she asked the congregation. "You told me I was worthless, a child of sin and the devil. You made me your slave, cleaning your house, cooking your meals, washing your filthy laundry. I was innocent. I was naïve. I know better now. Shall I tell them what I found in your pockets? Shall I tell them about the stains I washed from your clothes? Shall I tell them how you spent your time while you were away supposedly preaching the Word? Shall I tell them how you hid the letters from my sister begging for my help?"

  "Lies, all lies,
" the Reverend shouted. "You'll burn in the fires of hell for your lies!"

  "Then you'll burn with us," Faith shouted back. She was shaking, but not from fear. "You beat my sister. I heard it. I saw the results and most of the time it was on my account. I was your favorite, your good little girl. I was everything you wanted me to be until you thought I betrayed you."

  "Fornicator!" he screamed.

  "I loved a boy!" she screamed back, "And you beat me for it. But what of you, dear father? Tell them what you did when the beating was done." She watched her father's face pale as she flung her arms out at the stunned and silent congregation. "He put his hands around my neck and told me if I ever left him, I'd end up like my mother."

  "I ran away," Faith continued, "because I was afraid. I ran and I hid and that was my sin. I let a murderer lead these good people for all these years."

  There were gasps of horror. Several women cried out while several men shouted, "No! It can't be!" in disbelief.

  "Yes!" Hope shouted back. "She saw it!"

  "I caused it," Faith admitted, hanging her head. "I saw my mother and sister singing and laughing together, playing games." These things were forbidden in her father's house and called ungodly. "I was jealous of the time they spent together and I told my father what I had seen. I wanted him to be angry. I wanted them to get in trouble. I wanted to see them punished."

  Hope wrapped her arm around her sister's shoulder, always the comforter. "You were four. You didn't know. You wanted us to get in trouble. You didn't want Mama to die."

  Faith nodded, wiped her eyes and continued. "But she did," she sniffed. "Later that night, I heard my father yelling at her. I wanted to watch her be punished for ignoring me. Their door was open a little and I watched while she told him she was leaving him and taking us with her. He became enraged. He hit her and she fell across the bed. He took the sash from her robe and wrapped it around and around her neck. I didn't know what he was doing until she started to struggle… and then she stopped."

  "The next day, he told me she'd hung herself," Hope continued. "He told all of you the same. Faith was afraid to tell us what she saw. She was afraid we wouldn't believe her, She was afraid we would blame her as she blamed herself. She was afraid he'd do the same to her."

  Reverend Samuel Parish Parsons staggered down from his pulpit, clutching his chest and shouting, "Liars! Whores of the devil! She was a practitioner of the black arts!"

  "She was our mother!" the sisters shouted back.

  He turned to the congregation, spittle forming at the corners of his mouth, "Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live."

  "Thou shalt not kill," Faith spat back, "Let God and the law decide whose sin was greater."

  "I did what needed to be done," he said, pleading with the people who now looked at him in horror. "She was a witch, I tell you, a witch!"

  They could tell by the looks on the faces around him that no one believed his ranting, not even the two detectives who stood listening by the door. The jury wouldn't believe him either once they heard his recorded confession.

  Their mother wasn't a witch. She was a Daughter of Man. Like many who'd gone before her, she'd suffered for it, but at least in her case, her persecution was now avenged.

  Faith had no wish to see the end of the drama. She had better things to do. She had a life to return to with people to care for and a Guardian angel who had given her a future when he gave her his heart.

  Epilogue

  "Lucien, we should be getting home."

  "We will, love. Be patient and watch."

  They stood amidst the rubble of what once had been a House of Guardians looking out over miles and miles of dry, flat land. They stood in a way that had become habit for them; her back to his front, his hands on her shoulders. They'd been mated for three days.

  As per Paenitentia tradition, the mating had been quiet and personal, attended only by Evrard and Álvaro who stood guard outside the church. They'd said what was in their hearts and were rewarded with tiny red rosebuds; hers above her left breast and over her heart, his tucked in amongst the lilies that surrounded his skull and tears.

  The party afterward had been anything but quiet. There was music and dancing and food, so much food. It was enough to feed and army which was a good thing because an army of villagers showed up for the celebration.

  "They needed this," Agdta told her, nodding with satisfaction. "It's been years since the celebrated anything together." She pointed her finger at one of the dancers and shook her fist. "Papi! You pat one more bottom and Álvaro is taking you home."

  "Consolata said I could," Vasco called back. It was his excuse for everything these days.

  "Everything feels different," Faith said vaguely. She couldn't put her finger on it, but Agdta could.

  "The village is changing back to what it once was. The people are happy. You feel their joy. More women have come forward. Briza has started another circle and there'll be a third one soon. Álvaro says more men have come forward, too. Those that denied their heritage before are now asking to do whatever it is the men do to see if their blood is strong enough to become one of the People. Life is good."

  Faith agreed. Life was good and it got better when she and Lucien left the revelers and went home to bed. There, in the quiet of the empty hacienda, Faith was granted her fondest wish. Her red rose blossomed into white.

  "Look," Lucien whispered to her now.

  Off in the distance the horizon glowed red.

  "Lucien, we have to go," Faith warned, but Lucien's hands tightened on her shoulders, holding her in place.

  "When my father died his second death, I came here to mourn," Lucien said in a faraway voice. "This House seemed to me a symbol of his strength and it was destroyed along with its Liege Lord. I stood right here where we are now and watched the sun rise. I had never seen it before."

  The red horizon turned rosy pink as the arc of the orange ball of sun came into view.

  "I had never seen anything so beautiful," he continued. "I believed then what I believe now; our punishment was not to live in the dark, but to be denied the light."

  The dry brown earth turned golden as the sun rose higher. The rocks were tinted with rose. Lucien pointed to the distance where the sun was chasing the shadows of night.

  "I have been blessed as few Paenitentia have been, Faith. I have found my sunlight in you."

  Faith, who now believed in things unseen, said a silent prayer of thanks to Engracia, and turned to her mate, reaching for his lips. "You gave me back my life, Lucien. A little sunlight is the least I could do."

  If this had been a movie, the camera would pan away from the couple watching the sun rise and the screen would read THE END, but this wasn't a movie and the light of the sun was creeping too close.

  Faith took Lucien's hand and pulled him toward the truck. "It's time to go home, Guardian. Agdta's waiting dinner and we have a future to plan."

  After all, this wasn't the end for them. This was the beginning….

  #####

  Read on for and excerpt from

  Rabbit Creek Santa - A Wolver Christmas Novella

  Available November 30, 2013

  Rabbit Creek Santa - A Wolver Christmas Novella

  "Okay, but don't forget to put them on before you go in." She tucked the gloves in the waistband of the shiny black belt on the Santa suit and patted his chest. "There. No one would know it was you."

  "Right," he muttered to the wipers ineffectively sweeping the snow from the windshield, "because everyone up here drives a brand new, bright blue pickup."

  He passed the narrow drive that led to the four room bungalow he rented and carefully slowed to take the next curve. That's all he'd need, to wind up in a ditch wearing a Santa suit. Even with four wheel drive, he was crawling by the time he found the turnoff. Weeds stuck up through the six inches of snow covering the drive and his wheels dipped and bumped over the uneven surface. Small spruces growing in crooked rows defined the sides of the lane, some plan
ted so close they scraped against the sides of the truck threatening the glossy finish.

  As soon as the headlights illuminated the house, Travis shut them off. No sense advertising his bright blue truck. He parked behind the compact whatever-it-was that was covered with snow.

  After straightening the silly hat as best he could, he tugged on his white gloves and, feeling like an ass, trudged to the front porch. Foot on the first step, he remembered the bag and trudged back to the truck. Damn it!

  Clamping his mouth shut on all the other words he was about to say, he reminded himself that this was for a widow and her pup, though he still didn't see why he had to wear the damned getup. Knock on the door, hand her the bag and say Merry Christmas. That's all there was to it. He could do that wearing jeans and a parka.

  And then he thought of his sister's pups and how excited they were on Christmas morning, shouting "Santa came! Santa came!" in surprise, and as if the old elf hadn't shown up every other year of their lives. It was easy to forget that for some pups, Santa didn't come every year and a pup without a father, well… Maybe the Mate knew what she was about.

  Determined to give the pup a good show, Travis bounded up the steps and banged on the door. Only a few seconds had passed before the curtain was pushed back and he was confronted with a pair of the prettiest brown eyes he'd ever seen. They were big and round and framed with thick, dark, lashes. Those eyes would have been perfect if they weren't rimmed with red and lashes weren't clumped with tears. Travis felt something squeeze inside his chest.

  He tried to smile though she probably couldn't see it through the damned beard.