Break the Faith

by M. Mabie

  I weeded through many kits that had much of the same things and decided on two. A standard one and another that was specifically for leather. The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea of Abe’s designs with leather.

  It was more masculine. More rugged. More Abe.

  Since it would be wasteful to practice and learn on the real thing, I also ordered a roll of faux leather. I know Elizabeth said I could get bulk fabric from her, and if this all panned out I would, but before I knew it, I had a notification chiming in my email that my items would be shipping the very next day.

  Sometimes technology blew my mind.

  That night Abe didn’t FaceTime but sent me a text message instead. To be honest, I hadn’t realized it had gotten so late. I had been sucked down a tutorial rabbit hole.

  ABE: Sorry, I’m just now touching base. It’s been a long day. I’ll be heading home tomorrow afternoon for a night. I can’t wait to see you. I love you. Goodnight.

  Reading that he’d be home by that time the next night soothed the part of me that was disappointed I wouldn’t get to chat with him. Yet, I didn’t want him to feel bad for working so hard to get back to me as quickly as possible.

  ME: That’s okay. I got busy too. I’m just glad you’re coming home. Be careful and drive safely. I love you. Goodnight.

  That evening, I took a long combination soaker/bath-bath and daydreamed about our wedding. I wanted a white satin gown and one of those small hats that women wore to the side with a tiny veil in front. I didn’t have a love for heels the way Ashley did, so I’d stick to flats. Since Abe always liked my hair down, I’d wear it in waves for him.

  Part of me still felt guilty for having dreams and wanting things like I’d seen on Pinterest, having been taught to think they were vain and materialistic. Maybe they were, but if that was what we wanted, then what did it hurt?

  Hopefully, by the time we had a wedding, I’d have a job and be earning money. I’d work for what I wanted, just like Abe. Then no one could say a thing.

  Not that anyone around us would. They loved us for who we were not for what we had or didn’t have.

  I swished my arms through the warm, bubbly water and imagined what Abe would look like too.

  Of course, he was attractive to me in everything. Literally everything. Jeans. Sweats. Suit pants. No pants. T-shirts. Button ups. Jackets. And shirtless.

  He made everything he wore look like it was made for him. When he wore nothing at all, he looked made for me. Designed by a creator straight from the depths of my wildest fantasies.

  And Abe was all mine.

  The image of him in a suit, smiling at me down a center row, flanked with our small circle of friends warmed my insides. The color of his shining eyes were vivid golds and greens and grays. Like the sun shimmering on a rocky creek bed.

  I got lost in the tub thinking of him until the water ran cool.

  CASSIE CAME DOWN THE lane at a quarter to eight. She was early, but I’d been up since before four. I’d mopped and swept every cranny and corner. Made cinnamon rolls and braised a pot roast. Laundered the bed sheets and every scrap of material that needed it.

  Abe was coming home today, even if it was just for a night.

  I never thought the Festiva was fancy, but compared to the car Ms. Perry drove, it looked and sounded like a show car. She rumbled and coughed up the drive. Her vehicle made noise like a sick lawnmower. But she had a car, and it got her to where she needed to go.

  At least for now. I doubted it would survive too much longer.

  She cut the ignition, and I met her on the porch.

  “Good morning,” I said.

  “Hey,” she replied.

  “Did you have trouble finding the place?”

  “No, I think my dad bought a table from a guy back here a few years ago.”

  I smiled knowing he probably had. “Abe makes furniture.”

  “Yeah, shaggy guy. Kind of grizzled?”

  I thought back to the first time I saw him. Hair wild. Beard even wilder. Wrinkled shirt. Dirty boots.

  I laughed as she climbed the stairs with a backpack slung over her shoulder. “He’s my fiancé.”

  It was the first time I’d said it like that, and it felt just right. Not like the other times when I’d called him my husband, although technically he was. Fiancé was exactly where we were—by choice—and it was perfect.

  “Oh, okay. Sorry.”

  “No need to be sorry. He was alone a long time. I remember him looking that way too.” I gestured with my hands around my head that he’d had a lot going on with respects to his appearance.

  She grinned. Casandra Perry had a smile. A pretty one.

  “Come on in. You like cinnamon rolls? I just made some. And coffee too.”

  “Hell yes. That sounds amazing.”

  As she ate, I got my workbooks and study guides out.

  Chewing, she scanned the cabin. “This place is nice. Don’t you have kids though?”

  “No. We don’t have any children.”

  Her brow pinched as she took a sip from her mug. “Oh, I just thought maybe you had to drop out of high school because you got pregnant. That’s pretty common.”

  I sat across from her and watched her pull a second roll from the pan with her fork. “I only went to school through grade eight. Where I used to live, girls didn’t get much education. At fourteen or so, we stayed home and learned how to keep house and raise children. Women in my town didn’t go to college or have jobs very often.”

  “That’s pretty fucked.” She shook her head. “Sounds like a goddamned cult.”

  Swallowing a lump in my throat, I replied, “It was.”

  I wasn’t ashamed of being from a cult because it wasn’t my fault, but it was awkward and a little embarrassing. Often, I wondered how I’d been so gullible and naïve. Why I hadn’t questioned more or stood up for myself. Then again, I had no idea that those were options until Abe. Lancaster was all I’d ever known.

  Cassie’s brown eyes held mine and her mouth parted. After blinking at me a few dozen times, her shoulder slumped, and she fell back against the chair. “Are you serious? I’m such a dick to you. I had no idea.”

  She spoke like Ashley, but I was used to it. Oddly, it kind of made me more comfortable.

  “It’s okay. I didn’t like you either.”

  One side of her mouth pulled down, and she shrugged.

  I added, “Mostly because you were rude, but that’s in the past.”

  “Yeah. I’m working on it.” Before she took another bite, she asked, “So how did you get out?”

  Not that I didn’t want to tell her, it was just a long story, and I was ready to move forward. So I gave her the short version. “Abe was from Lancaster too. He came back and saved me.”

  “Holy shit. My parents tried to get me to go to Lancaster. To the Academy. It was either there or get out. So I got out. I took one look at the brochure and said fuck that. Whoa.” Again, she was stunned. “My parents almost sent me to a freaking cult. The fuck is wrong with people?” She put her fork down and ran her fingers through her brown shoulder-length hair. “You know what?”

  “What?”

  She pointed at me. “Fuck everyone. We’re getting our GEDs and they can all kiss our asses.”

  I liked her gusto. “Yeah.”

  Cassie brought a lot of stuff with her. She had old homework, tests, quizzes, and notes from when she’d went to high school. And since hers already had the answers and work shown on them, she’d made me blank copies so I could practice on my own and then check my work and see where I had trouble. That alone was worth every cent for tutoring.

  She stayed for a few hours and just in that short time, she’d explained some tricks she used to help her remember formulas and equations. The science stuff was mostly reading and then some math skills to find answers. She said as soon as the math part got easier, so would the rest.

  I already felt more confident. For once, it didn’t seem impossible.
>
  “Thank you,” I said as she packed up what she wasn’t leaving with me.

  “No problem. You’re actually doing better than I thought.” She may have just been being extra nice to make up for before, but I’d take the compliment.

  “Thanks. You’re a good teacher.”

  That earned me another big Ms. Perry smile. “That’s good to hear. When I get through all this and finally take the test, I want to go to school and become one. Not a math teacher though. Art is my thing.”

  I had an idea.

  “I have your money for today right here.” I went to my wallet on the kitchen counter and pulled out forty dollars. It was going to cost me a pretty penny to pay her for all the help I expected I’d need, but it would be worth it. I handed the cash to her. “And when you think I’m ready to re-take the math and science, I’d like to pay for your test too.”

  She froze as she slipped her arm through the strap of her bag. “You’re kidding.”

  “No. You’re helping me when no one else can. I want to help you too.”

  “Holy shit. I’m not sure what to say.”

  “Say thank you and that you’ll see me tomorrow.”

  The money I had and planned to use to help others, didn’t have to be exclusive to the people who lived in Lancaster. Cassie faced hurdles too. It wasn’t fair her family turned their backs on her or that she had to work so hard for so little. I couldn’t fix everything for everyone, but I could help with this.

  She sucked in a deep breath and quietly said, “Thank you, Myra. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  26

  Abe

  Chris dead-headed back to Nelson because the guys had been basically ripping boards to put into the hot shed to dry. We’d be taking wood that was ready out of our inventory and replacing it with what we harvested, as the job allowed. They hadn’t had time to prepare a full, dry load for delivery yet, and I was driving back to Fairview with another full truck.

  Tomorrow, I’d be delivering ready-to-go lumber to the construction site. But first, I was dropping off this truck and switching it out for mine at the mill before heading to the bank.

  Lindy called while I was driving and told me everything went smoothly. She had papers for me to sign and was holding the ones that were couriered over for me to pick up. The transfer went through and was now deposited in the new account. If there was no foul play, Myra would have more money than either of us could ever imagine.

  So far, so good.

  Still, with all of that going as planned, my mind was a jumbled mess.

  The night before, I’d read the box of letters Andrew left us. Actually, I’d read most of them twice. Although the correspondence was only one sided, only having the notes that Jacob wrote to Andrew, it was clear they’d been very much in love.

  They weren’t easy to read. Mostly because it felt like an invasion of privacy and I was certain Jacob never wanted anyone except Andrew to know the things he shared with him. Most detailed where they’d secretly meet and when. They told of his confusion and, at times, the shame he felt for wanting something more with his friend. Something neither of them believed they’d ever be able to have out in the open.

  They were painful to read and sad, knowing how limited their time had been and then how it had been cut shorter by his passing. It was that letter—the very last one—which haunted me the most because it wasn’t just a letter. It was a suicide note.

  As I pulled into town, his words repeated over and over in my head.

  I feel weak and cowardly doing this to you and Myra. She is innocent and deserves someone who loves her like I love you. I hope things work out for her. The only reason we are even married was because Father wanted to keep her family’s money away from Matthew, but Mother doesn’t understand and I’m only disappointing her. Between my Father’s constant judgement and Matthew’s threats to expose us, I see no other way out. At least in Hell there’s only one devil, because here there are many.

  Leave Lancaster as soon as you can. Be happy. Be who I always knew you were.

  I wish I could go with you. I wish I was stronger. I’m sorry.

  Love, Jacob.

  Those words would plague me, probably for the rest of my life. Now, more than ever, I was committed to ending the Hell my family created in Lancaster. Myra was right, we couldn’t look the other way anymore. We had to put an end to it.

  I left the load with the skeleton crew at the mill and said hello to Dori in passing as I jumped in my truck and headed into town. Ted knew I was coming back early. I had already told him about the money, and he gave me the names of a lawyer and an accountant he used. Pulling out of the parking lot at the mill, I was on a mission.

  All I wanted to do was get home to Myra.

  THE ERRANDS I HAD TO run in Fairview ate up more time than I would have liked, but it was still early afternoon when I finally pulled down the lane to the cabin.

  The leaves had started to fall, and they dusted the road. Naturally, Myra was outside, rake in hand, cleaning up the small front yard when she heard my tires on the gravel. Before I even stopped, she’d dropped her rake and ran toward my pickup. I climbed out just in time to catch her when she jumped into my arms.

  Talk about a homecoming.

  “I know I just saw you a few days ago, but it wasn’t enough,” she said as she planted kisses on my cheeks and mouth. “Welcome home.”

  My arms around her, I held Myra to my chest and pressed my mouth to hers. She opened for me, gave herself to me, and I selfishly took advantage. She tasted sweet like sugar and cinnamon and she was warmer than the sun on our shoulders.

  She was my home.

  Suddenly, need for her overcame me. “I want you.”

  “I want you too,” she replied, her mouth reaching out for mine again.

  I carried her inside. Past the table and chairs. Past the island. Past the couch and I took her to our bed. Shucking our shoes, we tore at each other’s clothes until we were naked in the sunny bedroom we shared.

  In that moment, I did my best to pretend everything beyond that room didn’t matter. Not money. Not tragic letters. Not new buildings or jobs. In that space, the only thing I wanted to be concerned with was her skin against mine.

  Her lips on my lips.

  Her fingers on my flesh.

  Her body underneath me as I pressed myself inside.

  Myra clung to me like at any moment I’d vanish into thin air. As if she knew I needed her to ground me. To secure me. To anchor me.

  I thrust into her with such power and force, I was almost sure she’d cry out in pain. But she didn’t.

  “Yes,” she panted.

  Like she’d done from day one, she diluted the darkness inside me with her light. I needed that more than ever. Because although I never wanted to be the sullen man I’d once been before her, a lot of that hate still festered inside me and now—after being away from her—was less dormant that it had been in months.

  All the aggression. All the frustration. All the adrenaline that had been building suddenly came to a head.

  But the more I gave her, the more she took.

  The more I wedged inside her, the more she opened for me.

  I wasn’t a violent man. Hurting others wasn’t a solution to the pain they’d inflicted on innocent people, but there had to be justice. There had to be a way to make sure they were stopped. Not just for Myra and myself, for the Griers, or even for Jacob and Andrew, but for the generations of children who would suffer and the ones after them. It wasn’t enough to just survive it and get away.

  There had to be an end.

  These unexpected and rampant thoughts consumed me, and not in a way I was proud of. Even though Myra was moaning and writhing beneath me as I consumed her, I’d made her a promise before and I had to stop.

  I propped myself up, my hands flat on the comforter beside her head, and abruptly pulled myself out.

  “I can’t do this. Not like this.”

  Collapsing beside her, I pressed
my palms to my eyes.

  Immediately, she sat up and followed me to my side of the bed. “Hey, what’s wrong. Did I—” she began to ask but didn’t have to finish her sentence. Of course, she’d think she’d made a mistake or done something I didn’t like.

  “No, baby. It’s not you.”

  She whispered, “Then tell me. What’s is it?”

  “You once asked me to never come at you with anger on my mind.”

  Her hand smoothed over my sweaty chest, but she patiently stayed silent, waiting for me to continue.

  “I told you I wouldn’t, and I did it. Just now. I’m furious—not at you—but I can’t allow myself to be with you when I’m like this. I refuse to hurt you.”

  “Abraham Hathaway.” Her tone was firm as if she were scolding me. I deserved it and braced for more, looking her in the eyes to face what I had coming.

  “You would never hurt me.” Her fingers threaded through my hair. “Never. You’re always telling me to talk to you, to tell you what’s on my mind. I think you better start talking.”

  Where could I start?

  “My dad called. He transferred your money to our bank.”

  Her brow creased. “It wasn’t as much as you thought it would be?”

  “No. It was more. Two hundred forty-five thousand more than I thought he’d ever give you.”

  Myra’s jaw dropped. “Oh my goodness. What does he want?”

  That was the part that had me baffled too. “He claims he doesn’t want anything.”

  She crooked her neck and gave me a skeptical, sideways glance. “Are you sure?”

  “Hell, I don’t know. He says he doesn’t. He sent it through. What can he ask for now?”

  Myra’s face went through a myriad of expressions, but mostly her confusion lingered there. “That’s so weird, but isn’t it a good thing after all? Isn’t that what we wanted?”