“Sí.” Her dark, piercing eyes didn’t waver. “If she comes to visit, she’ll be happy to find you.”
Sharp longing cut into him at the thought of meeting another. Of sharing stories and fears and desires, of having a community and starting over after the disaster of the coven in India. Decker told himself Ender’s Ridge didn’t need more monsters like him. Didn’t need a second trail of bodies and bad decisions. But the knot in his stomach had already loosened.
He cleared his throat. “It’s a rare condition. Better for us to stick together.” Decker caught a glimpse of a smile at the corner of her mouth before she returned to business.
“Is there a hotel in town?”
“Hotel’s been closed for years.” He considered for a moment, counting through his room, Safine’s, and Cricket’s that he grudgingly kept for him even though he never saw a penny of payment. There were two spare rooms besides the one Willa moved into. “My wife and I have a room available at the saloon.”
“I won’t pay much.”
“Same as everyone else staying at theGoose,” he said.
She seemed satisfied with that and turned to the chapel, brows wrinkling at the roof’s shoddy patchwork. “I hope his faith is like Jesus. His carpentry isn’t.”
Decker smiled and knocked on the arched door. After a surprised sound and something rolling dully across the floor, Laurie heaved open the door.
Sister Inez thrust the newspaper clipping in his direction. “Your ad.”
He blinked owlishly at her.
She frowned. “YouareMr. Lane, ¿sí?”
“Oh! Yes, yes, I did put out an ad.” he said, a flush rising at his collar as he caught Decker’s eye and quickly looked away. “Please, call me Laurie.”
She arched a dark eyebrow and glided past him into the church. “Sister Inez Castillo.”
“It’s not much, but I’ll show you—” Laurie started.
“Could I have a moment?” Decker edged forward, foot catching the edge of the door.
Laurie cast a look behind him, but Sister Inez had already disappeared into the sanctuary, straightening hymnals and peering at the broken windows.
“About last week—”
“You’re letting the flies in my chapel. And I wish to be left alone.”
“You sent me to theStarwith your ad for a nun, so you wouldn’t be alone.”
“I don’t have the skills to manage everything here, and Sister Inez will prove to be invaluable,” Laurie said stiffly, like this was their first time speaking.
Decker snorted, watching the way Laurie’s nails bit into the door as he held it against his boot. This formality couldn’t hide what happened on the plateau, what burned itself in his mind for the last week.
Decker’s voice dropped and he moved in. “Are you going to pretend it didn’t happen?”
How you wanted me. How I wanted you, in so many ways.
Laurie swallowed hard, glancing behind him into the church as if afraid the walls themselves would betray him to God. “I was frightened and confused. Nothing happened, Decker, and nothingcanhappen,” he said more forcefully, “because I am a man, and you are a man.”
If you knew what I was, would your mind be changed?
Decker knew it wouldn’t.
Only an act of God could change Laurie’s mind. Unfortunately for both of them, the Heavenly Father never seemed too keen to pay attention to what happened with his creations.
Laurie seemed convinced the chapel hosting a great congregation would make his God come to Ender’s Ridge. It seemed as insurmountable a task as Laurie admitting to himself he was like Decker in so many ways.
Laurie’s shoulders squared, as if emboldened by the door reducing Decker to a sliver. “Please keep a room for Sister Inez, she’ll be needing it. ”
A small, nasty grin tugged at the corner of Decker’s mouth. “It wouldn’t be improper for her to share the parsonage. Given your certain affinities.”
Laurie’s face tightened, and Decker slid his boot away. The slammed door was the only answer he gave, and Decker steadied himself on the metal railing as he unscrewed the lid and choked down thickened, lumpy mouthfuls of the old blood before he tossed the canteen to the side, instantly attacked by a cloud of the biting creatures.
His head cleared even as his gut roiled, and he stared at the closed doors, wondering if he’d say something different if Laurie opened them again. But he wouldn’t.
An act of God.
