Watching her, he waited.
“Whatailshim, exactly?”
Ignoring the niggling voice that told her stop, she forged ahead. “He has…seizures.”
Thin, reddish brows rose over bony features. “Seizures?”
“Yes, they’re when a person—”
“I know what they are, Abigail. What I don’t understand is why you see fit to question our good Lord and Savior. His judgment is true and supreme.”
“I…I’m not questioning, sir, but…there’smedicine. For seizures. We can help Sammy get better. It’s not against the Lord if it’s—”
“Sit.” Face tight, Isaiah tilted his head and focused his eyes on hers.
Abby settled stiffly onto her chair and waited, urgency tamped down, frustration making her antsy.
“A decision has been made,” he said with a smile. He seemed to wait for some response before going on. “You’ve had a hard time of it, I know, since your husband died, Abigail. Hamish Merkley was a good man with a tight hold on you. With him gone, I know how easy it would be for you to lose your path. And the fault is mine if you have lost it. All mine.”
Eyes downcast, face hot and prickly, Abby waited.
“I haven’t lost my—”
Again, he didn’t let her speak. “Had a few fine men request your hand, but I’m not sure they’re strong enough for the way you need to be…handled.”
Silence as Abby breathed, everything clenched, everything so tight she should, by all rights, have splintered into a million jagged shards.
“My concern, dear Abigail, beyond your usual challenges—oh, curiosity, pride, a dash of immodesty, and so on—is yourlackof children, your inability to fulfill your duties as wife and mother. Are you barren? Would the Almighty so forsake one of His chosen few?” With a sad shake of his head, Isaiah lifted one hand, as if to touch her, but pulled it back. “I received word last night, Abigail, from our Righteous Lord and Savior.Hallelujah!I prayed, and He responded.” Isaiah’s voice rose, taking on the kind of fervor that usually preceded an important proclamation. Perfect, really, that tweak of surprise at the end, bewilderment that he’d been chosen, yet again, to deliver this sacred message. How modest.
The air grew stiller in the tight space. Even without an audience, Isaiah stole a room’s oxygen. With people bearing witness, singing his praises, and giving him their air, he was legendary.
Why hadn’t he saved this for a more public occasion?
“Would you believe our Lord has time to spend on such inconsequential beings as the two of us?” He chuckled self-deprecatingly, foxy teeth prodding his bottom lip. Righteous certainty lit him up from inside. Handsome and saintly. A deadly combination. “I could not believe it either, my dear. But He knows the importance of our work here, and He has, again, chosen you, Sister.You.” He nodded, narrowed eyes bright on her. Somehow, despite that light, he managed to look saddened, contrite—a martyr heading to his death. “I did not desire this,Abigail. I told Him so myself, but He did chasten me and remind me of my duties unto Him.” He leaned forward and placed a hand on her forearm. Abby watched that spot—those fingers, that touch, both too familiar. The light sprinkling of gold hair along the back of his hand, the few freckles beneath, were too human for someone so close to the divine. “I will do the Lord’s bidding,” he whispered, and the hand grew heavier—whether in her mind or reality, she wasn’t sure. “I will takeyou, Abigail.” The hand lifted and alit on her face, caressed her jaw in a move she’d seen him perform over and over and over again. Just a fatherly motion, he’d say, but in reality, Isaiah never touched men like this, nor boys. It was more than fatherly, she was sure. It left her feeling filthy, wanting to shrug him off and scrub at her skin.
“You?You’ll take me as a wife?” Her heart beat audibly in her ears. A fast, loudthwumpthat she could barely hear through. “What about Mama? Does she know?”
The corners of his mouth twitched as though at a memory, and something sick twisted in her chest.I’ve got to get out of here.
“I will do my duty unto her. And unto you. With no children between us, I see the error of our ways. And the Savior has decreed it.” His voice was low, almost a whisper. “I will plant a child inside of you.Unlike your late husband, who was unable to do so,” he added, a sad smile pasted over his features. And he believed it—that his was a nobler body, far more able than Hamish’s.
No. Oh, no, no, no.She couldn’t do this. She wouldn’t. At least with Hamish, there’d been a marriage license. She may not have wanted it, but they’d been wed before God and government. What Isaiah proposed was preposterous on countless levels. No. Never.
A wave of nausea rose up, images of herself and Mama and… Oh Lord, the worst of it was the babies. The babies, if she had them, would be taken from her and put into the nursery.
“Four days hence, we will be joined in the eyes of the Lord. You will bear me children,manychildren, and we will prepare our people for the Day.” He smiled. “Together.”
In four days?It took longer than it should have for the words to truly sink in, because this wasn’t supposed to happen. Isaiah didn’t take women like this. There’d been whispers of God pushing him to do things with young girls, but not women who’d been wed before.
He’d want her to smile, to be pleased. She forced her cold lips to tighten at the corners, opened her mouth, and forced out a lie: “It would be an honor.”
It wasn’t until Isaiah took his leave that Abby let herself collapse. He’d just disappeared from sight when she rushed around back and threw up—halfway to the latrine. After that, she went inside and gathered the few things that mattered to her: her birth certificate, stained and worn, its corners dog-eared but still legible; the little plastic farmer figure she’d kept from her life before arriving at the Church—it had been her only toy when she and Mama had driven away from West Virginia—and her dictionary. She couldn’t bring herself to look at the Blackwood Library label on the spine, but she’d taken the oldest, most tattered one they had. And she’d always figured she’d somehow repay them. At least now she might have the opportunity to do so.
* * *
Sammy was finishing up dinner in the dining hall when she found him, which was just about the worst possible place for him to be. She spotted him through the window and waited, hidden in the trees, until folks emerged, heading back to their cabins for sleep.
Finally, Sammy came out, and Abby took a chance by going right to him, grabbing his arm, and pulling him along.
