He fell into step beside me, and I took the chance to take him in.
He had the build of a retired linebacker who’d taken up farming. He was several inches taller than my 5’11 frame and wore heavy-duty work boots under his robe.
Gabriel pointed out the common areas with the casual authority of a man who’d been here for a long time. “Our mess hall is over by the dorms,” he said. “We eat together at every meal, well, besides from the Voice and the Vessel. They eat privately in their own quarters.” He glanced over at me, then added, “You got any dietary needs, you’ll need to inform the kitchen. We’re welcoming to all types here—vegetarian, gluten-free, you name it.”
“I’m good with anything.”
“Great! I’m sure you’ll love it. Farm to table and all that.”
My lip twitched up. “I’m sure I will. But can I ask why Malachi and his son don’t eat with the rest of us?”
Gabriel smiled, the kind of smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Father Malachi carries heavy burdens,” he said. “And the Vessel… They need time for communion with the Light, to keep themselves pure for the rest of us.”
I nodded like that made perfect sense.Sure,I thought.Communion and purity. Or maybe he just doesn’t want anyone seeing him eat steak while the rest choke down boiled rice.
We crossed the large open yard, the ground crunching beneath our boots. Everything here was ordered—rows of garden beds, crisp white fences, even the damn laundry lines were perfectly spaced.
Gabriel kept up a steady stream of chatter, pointing things out as we walked. “We raise chickens, pigs, goats, and a few dairy cows. Father says the Light blesses those who live off their own hands.”
“Guess that’s one way to beat inflation,” I said lightly.
He chuckled. “We don’t worry about those worldly things here.”
The farmhouse loomed ahead—two stories of white siding and a deep wraparound porch that probably dated back to the 1920s. The paint was fresh, though, and the shutters were new.So much for simplicity.Up close, I noticed the gleam of a new lock on the front door, and the shine of a generator hidden behind a lattice of vines. Malachi might preach humility, but he was definitely living in comfort.
Gabriel opened the door without knocking and gestured for me to enter. “Go right on in. He’s been expecting you.”
Inside, the air was cool, the faint hum of an air conditioner breaking the quiet. Malachi appeared a moment later from another room, his voice carrying before he came into view. “Brother Gabriel, you’ve brought our guest.”
Malachi’s smile was all charm and teeth when he stepped out, his white robe spotless, his hands clasped together in front of him. “Brother Jace. I am so glad you’ve returned.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, putting on the polite tone that had gotten me through more than one op. “Thank you for having me.”
“Please, call me Father,” he said smoothly. “You’ve come a long way, and I’m grateful you’ve listened to your heart and sought us out.”
I nodded, letting him take my hand in both of his. His skin was warm, almost too warm, and his eyes—blue, although not nearly as stunning as his son’s, and unblinking—studied me like he was searching for something beneath the surface.
“Come,” he said finally. “Let’s sit. Brother Gabriel, please, bring some water for our guest.”
We took seats at a polished oak table. I set my bag down beside my chair, doing my best to look at ease.
Malachi leaned forward, elbows on the table. “So,” he said, “you’ve felt called to learn more about our ways.”
“That’s right,” I said. “After my visit, I just couldn’t get this place out of my head. It felt like I needed to be here.”
He smiled again, almost tenderly this time. “The world outside is filled with so much noise, sin, and confusion. You’re not alone in feeling that emptiness. The Light calls to those who still have a pure soul.”
If only you knew,I thought, keeping my expression neutral.
He went on, voice measured, persuasive. “You’ll find peace here, Brother Jace. And purpose. You’ll look back on today as the day you changed your life for the better.”
I took the glass Gabriel handed me, the condensation slick in my grip. “I’m excited to settle in.”
Malachi smiled. “Yes. Welcome home,” he said softly.
After a few minutes, Malachi rose from his chair, and I followed suit. “Come,” he said, motioning toward the door. “Let’s get you a room.”
Gabriel fell in behind us as Malachi led the way out of the farmhouse. The late afternoon sun was low now, burning the edges of the fields gold. A few men worked in the garden, sleeves rolled up, dirt caked on their hands. A cluster of kids ran past inthe distance, a woman calling after them in a voice that sounded both tired and resigned.
