“Do you think that’s a good idea?” His wife rubbed her hands together and grimaced.
The pain. He understood. She suffered so. Perhaps that was her punishment for failing to do her wifely duty.
“It’s necessary,” he insisted, forcing his faulty heart to dispel the selfish emotions.
Deborah shook her head. “The only necessary thing, Christopher, is for you to find a way to stop her. She’s going to keep digging until she finds something.” His wife’s worried gaze settled on his. “You know she won’t give up. Something has to be done.”
Her words were far too true, but he did not want to hear. Movement in his peripheral vision distracted him. He frowned, inclined his head to the right so that he could see past his wife. His niece hovered just beyond the doorway. “You should go back to bed, Tamara.” She was always lurking about like that. No matter that Christopher had attempted to cleanse her of her impurities ... she would no doubt turn out to be a whore just like her mother.
Deborah twisted toward the girl. “Stop eavesdropping, child, and go back to bed.”
Tamara slinked off to the stairs. She had no one else in this world. Only him and Deborah. Christopher had taken a solemn oath to guide her in the Lord’s path. He could not fail in the task. That would only add to his mounting shortfalls.
If things took a turn for the worse, what would Tamara do? What would Deborah do?
“That girl is into something,” Deborah charged. “I caught her sneaking back into the house at quarter of one this morning. That’s twice in as many weeks.”
Worry heaped heavy onto Christopher’s already burdened shoulders. “Was she with her friends?” Dear God, could his wife do nothing to help herself and her sister’s child?
Deborah untethered her long braid of hair in preparation for arranging the meticulous bun she always wore, her once-nimble fingers struggling with the effort. “She won’t say. Apparently she thinks just because she’s eighteen now she doesn’t have to answer to me. I think she’s running with the Pope girl. You know that child is wild. You’re going to have to do something, Christopher.” Deborah arched an eyebrow. “About both those worries.”
What did she expect him to do?
He shook his head before dropping it in shame. “What else can I do?”
“I don’t know,” Deborah exclaimed, then paused and buried her emotions. “But you have to do something. I’ve done all I can to help you already. More than I should have,” she charged. “The rest is up to you.”
His wife turned sharply and padded out of the room.
She was right, of course.
Christopher closed his eyes and repeated the petition for forgiveness.
He was to blame.
So many had suffered already.
Surely God would not continue to punish those who were innocent.
What was he thinking?
The Old Testament was filled with far too many examples of exactly that for Christopher to dare doubt.
He pulled on his coat, picked up his keys, then reached into his pockets for his gloves but decided he did not deserve that comfort. His hands should be exposed to the harsh cold while he clasped them in prayer. His grievous errors warranted far worse.
Driving to the chapel, he viewed his village as if for the last time. His flock trusted him, depended upon him to ensure that God’s blessing showered upon them and their homes. And he had failed. His failure would shed a bad light on his heavenly Father. An unforgivable sin.
By the time Christopher reached the rustic chapel, tears had dampened his face. If only those salty fluids were acid. Perhaps the scars from the burns would ensure he never fell short of his faith again. Even that was not punishment enough. His eyes should be plucked from his head.
To blame his wife and his niece was the coward’s way out. Christopher was not a coward. Sin had confused him, twisted his mind. He was, after all, only human.
Emerging from his car, he made the cold, lonely journey toward the chapel.
He would pray long and hard, until his knees and hands stung from the cold and went numb.
He would kiss the icy stones where her blood had spilled.
To attain forgiveness, he would do anything his dear Lord required of him to stop this heinous chain of events.
