Beyond the Pine (16 page)

Riley

I head to the chapel early the next morning before service, eager to busy my mind for a moment in hopes of forgetting about my argument with Asher.

With such a limit to our time together, with so many other things hanging in the balance, the fact that even a moment of our time is spent in disagreement has me feeling sick.

Unfortunately, no matter how badly I wanted to, I couldn’t go after him and try to remedy anything. A part of me isn’t even sure that’s what he would have wanted. During my time with Asher, I’d come to learn much of the man I’d grown to love. One of the things I’d learned early on is that sometimes, it’s best to leave him be.

I could only hope this was one of those times, that my silence wouldn’t become the thing that drives him away from me.

As I make my way into the chapel, I glance around, savoring in the silence of the sanctuary. Noticing the Reverend’s door is still shut, but light is seeping through the crack at the bottom, I move quietly.

Early Sunday mornings, it’s not unusual for him to be behind his office door, practicing his sermon before the service. Although Asher and I had been careful, the seed of doubt had been planted weeks ago and the last thing I wanted was to bring attention to myself.

I’d done my best to find out what I could by visiting the infirmary and looking through the small collection of remedy books in the nurses’ station, but I still couldn’t find a logical explanation for what happened with Rachel.

Whatever was going on, my doubt couldn’t be denied.

My trust in Reverend Tucker had been tainted and I wasn’t sure there was anything that could be done to bring it back. I hated the feeling, but hitting a dead end everywhere else, I knew there was little I could do with it right now.

Ever since the day he’d found us leaving the stables, I’d felt his eyes on me, watching my every move. I hadn’t mentioned it to Asher, sure it was all my own paranoia, but I’d felt it just the same.

I’ve avoided coming in early for a while, but today, I needed the distraction. As quietly as I can manage, I begin making my way up and down the pews, carefully dusting them and making sure each seat is equipped with a hymn book. Once I’m done with that, I grab the broom from the corner and begin sweeping the already pristine floors, working my way from the pulpit to the door, then out to the steps.

My plan works exactly as I’d hoped, perhaps even too good. I’m not sure how much time has passed by the time I hear Reverend Tucker clear his throat, but once I hear it, I jump, dropping the broom as my hand flies to my chest in surprise.

I release a light laugh at my reaction, feeling foolish for having been so startled.

“Excuse me, Reverend. I apologize,” I manage, blushing scarlet once more. “I didn’t hear you behind me.”

“Obviously,” he replies, his eyes meeting mine and not holding the same lighthearted expression. “You seem to be troubled. What is it, Sister?”

“Oh, nothing,” I answer, shaking my head and releasing a sigh. “I just couldn’t sleep, so I decided it best I be productive.”

“Hmm,” he nods, the feel of his eyes on me as I bend to retrieve the broom. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. We need to talk before service.”

“Okay,” I manage, the edge in his voice making me nervous. “Is something wrong?”

“We soon shall see,” he replies, reaching to take the broom from me and setting it in its place before gesturing for me to follow him to his office. “Come with me, please.”

Nodding, I follow him in silence, not sure what’s happened but convinced it’s nothing good. He pushes his door open, looking back at me and giving me a look of suspicion that has my stomach turning in knots once more.

“Come in,” he says low, nodding toward my usual chair. “Have a seat.”

“Yes s...” I start, but am so surprised to find he’s not alone that I falter. Turning back to face him, I look up at him in question. “Oh, I’m sorry… I thought you wanted to speak privately.”

“This involves both of you,” he says, shaking his head and waiting for me to sit. Once I’m settled, he leans against the corner of his desk, looking down before facing me once more. “Sister Riley, Brother Abraham came to me this morning with some... unsettling news,” he starts, gesturing toward the church elder who remains standing silently by the window, his expression solemn.

“I’m very sorry to hear that,” I manage, my eyebrows quirking together in concern as I look back at the Reverend. “What happened?

“Very late last night, Brother Abraham’s youngest boy was running a fever,” he says quietly. “He’d taken him to the infirmary to have Sister Rebecca have a look at him.”

“That’s too bad,” I reply, genuinely sorry to hear the news. “Will he be alright?”

“He should be,” he nods, giving me his eyes. “That isn’t what I’ve called you in here for, Riley.”

Pulling a nod from me, I feel another wave of uncertainty moving through me, but manage to hide it as I wait for his next words.

“You know I’m a very busy man, Riley and as much as I’d like, I just can’t be everywhere I’m needed at once,” he sighs. “As an elder of our beautiful community, one of the things Brother Abraham does for me is keep an eye on my flock, help me ensure their safety, their needs are being met,” he holds my eyes, taking a seat on the edge of his desk. “As he was returning home, Brother Abraham passed your cabin, Sister,” he continues, holding my gaze. “He saw a light on, heard voices coming from within.”

I can’t breathe.

“In his deep concern for your safety, he made his way toward the back entrance of your house. By then, it was silent, but he wasn’t alone, was he?”

“I’m not sure I under...”

“I seen that boy leavin’ your house, Sister,” Abraham cuts me off, pulling my attention to his accusatory gaze. “I saw him sneakin’ back to Josiah’s.”

We’ve been caught.

“Riley,” Reverend Tucker interjects, looking down at me with severe eyes as I divert my gaze, struggling to control my breathing. “Is this true? Were you with Asher late last night?”

“It’s not what you...”

“Do
not
lie to me,” he threatens as he cuts me off. “I know you were alone with Asher. I know he was in your dwelling late last night,” he continues, his voice holding a sharp edge I’ve never heard. “An elder of this church saw you, Riley Chapman!” he rails, his palms clenching the edge of the desk in fury, making me jolt as a whimper slips through my lips. He takes a breath, steadying himself before he sits upright once more, still perched on the edge of his desk, his voice more even as he continues. “Not only are you unmarried, you’ve been betrothed to a man who is to be a prominent member of the clergy. My
son
. Do you understand the severity of these accusations? The penalty for this type of Jezebel behavior? What is bound to happen to you should I find out they’re what I think they must be?”

Exile.

“Yes sir,” I nod, my voice shaking with emotion, fear, as I stifle a sob. “I didn’t…”

“‘I am the way, and the truth and the life. No one comes to the father except through me,’” he hisses, his eyes full of warning. “The time for confession has come, Riley. What have you done?”

Asher

She’s already left for the morning by the time I step out onto Josiah’s front porch.

There wasn’t much chance of us being able to be alone, talk about our disagreement, but I hated the idea of our last meeting ending in such fucking disaster.

I knew if Riley believed she had any say in her future, we wouldn’t even be having the discussion. I know she cares for me, loves me even, which is more than I can say for most of the people who have come into my life. If Riley believed she had a choice in the matter, she’d fight for herself, fight for
us
, but she doesn’t. Not yet, anyway.

I’ve told her since the day we first spoke that there was more out there for her, with or without me. That being a woman, even a religious one, didn’t mean she had to be a slave to the beliefs of others, the same beliefs that have kept her a prisoner here. How can you convince someone their childhood, the beliefs they’ve been taught their entire existence, is wrong? That the power they’ve stifled within themselves is there, just waiting to be unleashed?

I can tell her until I’m blue in the face, but it won’t mean shit if she doesn’t believe it for herself.

I know she’s capable of finding it, but that doesn’t make the wait any easier.

I step off the porch with a heavy sigh, eager to get the service over so I can hopefully speak with her, make sure she’s not too upset over last night.

I still meant everything I said to her, but my patience had worn thin. If I can just see her eyes, give her some kind of sign that everything’s okay, I know it will help us both.

I’m nearly to the entrance, the last bell ringing loudly over the farm, signaling that I’m late, when Sara comes rushing out toward me.

“Asher?” she starts, her voice holding a nervous tone as she looks over me with a worried expression. “Have you seen Riley?”

“No,” I tell her, looking back down the road I’d just traveled, searching for any sign. “She’s not inside?”

“No, I haven’t seen her all morning,” she shakes her head, the need to be discreet not escaping either of us. “I went by her cabin on the way here and she wasn’t home. I don’t know where she could be.”

Although I’m not sure what Riley’s told her about us, about any of it, really, I know the trust she has in her is endless.

“We have to get inside,” she warns me, her eyes telling me to follow. “If we’re late, we’ll be noticed.”

Giving her a quick nod, I follow, still searching for Riley.

“Do you think she’s at the infirmary?” I ask low as we reach the steps.

“No,” she replies. “My mother hasn’t seen her and Tobias was just at the stables, she isn’t there, either.”

“Fuck,” I hiss out, pulling the door open to the chapel and following her in. “Maybe she’s inside now.”

“I hope so,” she whispers. “It’s not like her to not be here, Asher.”

“No,” I agree. “No, it isn’t.”

We step inside, making our way to our pews as our gazes discreetly roam the other members, looking for any sign of her.

The sermon is a particular lengthy one. At least it feels that way to me as I continue searching for the green eyes I crave.

I don’t find them, though.

Instead, I’m met with the words of the Reverend, speaking from the pulpit about accountability, community and the silent vows we all make to the Lord as we serve His will. He talks about sacrifice, urging each of us to embrace His word.

He speaks of condemnation for all of those who falter, promising an eternity of darkness to those who refuse the light.

Dozens of people are staring back at him, nodding in agreement, worshipping his word, but he doesn’t see any of them.

Instead, his harsh, cold gaze finds mine and it’s finally clear.

Riley never showed up at church this morning for a reason.

The Reverend knows our secret.

Riley

Normally, in times of confusion and fear such as these, I rely on my faith to help me through.

I rely on the words of my mother, the words of Reverend Tucker, the words that have been singed into my mind since the first day of my existence. Everything hitting me all at once. The fear, the sadness, the anguish in my soul... I let all of it take me as I lean my forehead against the tall pine tree I find shelter beneath.

The same pine trees that have sheltered me from everything I’ve been told is horrible in the world surround me. I know I should feel safe, but I don’t. For the first time in my life, the sanctuary I call home is suffocating me and I don’t know how to process the feeling. Nothing I’ve been taught is enough to pull this heavy feeling of burden from my chest.

The very same pine trees that once served as a safety net I realize have now become my prison.

The moment the thought is born, I realize it’s been there all along, nestling, hiding inside my soul, just waiting for this moment.

This is so much bigger than me, bigger than Asher, so much bigger than anything I can even comprehend that the thought of being able to stop it isn’t even real anymore.

The only thing that makes sense to me now is Asher.

I look to the heavens, praying through watery eyes for answers as the sanctity of this place rebels against what’s become our truth.

I stand, brushing the pine needles from me and square my shoulders, I hear the wisdom in the breeze as it brushes against my tearstained cheeks, telling me what I’ve always known, but have always been too afraid to admit.

In this moment, I know exactly what I have to do.

***

When I push the door open to the infirmary, I watch Sara stifle a jump, relieved immediately when I see her concerned expression finding mine.

“Oh thank God!” she gasps, setting her bag down and making her way over to me, taking in my teary expression. “Riley, are you alright? What happened to you? Why weren’t you in church?”

Her gentle arms wrapping around me give me the permission I need to let go of the emotion I’ve been holding deep inside my chest. I lean into her, grateful and eager to take the comfort she so selflessly offers. When she pulls away a moment later, she notices my wince and her concern grows tenfold.

“Riley?” she starts, the question in her eyes clear as she looks back at me, hesitant to touch me again for fear of my safety.

With a nod, I give her the silent permission she’s asking for. Her kind eyes find mine and she reaches for my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Pulling the fabric of my dress away from my back, she releases a gasp at the same time I hiss at the sting covering my skin.

“Oh Riley,” she whispers as she comes around to face me, her hazel eyes moist and compassionate. “Riley, what happened?”

I consider my options, knowing anything I tell her might put her in just as much trouble and slowly shake my head.

“I’m not sure I should tell you, Sara,” I admit low, sniffing back my tears. “I don’t want to pull you into the middle of anything.”

“Riley, you’re my best friend and I’ve loved you since I took my very first breath,” she says quietly as she crouches back down in front of me, a gentle smile playing on her lips despite her teary eyes. “Whatever you’re going through, I intend to always go through it with you.”

“Sara,” I whisper, squeezing her hand as her words make me tear up once more.

“I don’t care what you’ve done or what’s coming next,” she cuts me off. “You’ll have me by your side regardless, so you may as well tell me what it is we’re fighting for.”

A combination of immense relief and guilt flood me as I take her in and after a moment, I wipe my cheek clean of tears and slowly nod my head.

“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice so full of emotion, I’m not capable of much more.

“You’re welcome,” she replies, rising next to the cot I’ve taken refuge on and smiling down at me. “Now, while I get you cleaned up, you talk. Just tell me what you can. I’ll listen and try to keep up. Deal?”

Releasing a heavy sigh, I nod and watch her move around the small, private room, gathering supplies to tend to the marks on my back.

I tell her quickly about Asher, the relief of finally being able to share it with her more than I thought it would be. She says nothing, focusing instead on her training, but I don’t miss the way her cheeks flare when I get to certain parts of our story.

I tell her everything.

I tell her about that first day in the field, about the way I felt talking to him in the infirmary, about my disagreement with the Reverend over my engagement to Tobias.

“It should have been you, Sara,” I whisper, my eyes filling with guilty tears. “You should have been the one he chose for Tobias, not me,” I shake my head. “I tried to tell him as much, tried to reason with him over the need to ensure loving, healthy unions, but he wouldn’t hear it. That’s why I was sent back to the infirmary,” I admit. “Because I told the Reverend I didn’t want to marry Tobias. I knew how you felt about him, Sara,” I manage, her watery gaze meeting mine. “I didn’t want to be a part of something that could hurt you.”

“It’s okay,” she whispers, drying my tears as she hides her own. “Riley, I know you would never…” she continues, clearing her throat as she shakes her head. “Riley, it’s okay.”

Nodding, she continues tending to the welts on my back, waiting for me to tell her the rest.

And so I do.

I’ve just finished telling her about my suspicions with Sister Rachel when we hear the infirmary door push open, alarming us both.

Setting the damp towels down, she covers me up and dries her hands on her apron. With a quick glance over at me, she pulls her finger to her lips, gesturing for my silence. Once I give her a nod, I watch her go, pulling the door closed behind her to hide me from view, offering me safety for the first time in too long. Hushed whispers come from the other side, whose I can’t be sure, but then a moment later, the door swings open and I release a gasp.

He found me.