Redeemed

by Maggie Blackbird

  “What did you say?”

  Amusement lingered in her brother’s gaze. “Hmm, I was in the same quagmire two months ago.”

  Did he imply she had deep feelings for Adam and that she’d end up marrying him as Emery had done with Darryl? “What exactly are you saying?”

  “You froze my iced tea.” Emery held up the cup. His smile wasn’t smug but bemusement-filled.

  “Are you saying my answer was cold?”

  “No. Your tone was.” Emery stood. “C’mon, let’s go cool off at the lake.”

  Bridget followed him to the back of the church where the other set of stairs was located. This door faced the water at the main entrance of the church.

  “Do a lot of people use it?” Bridget opened the door. She pointed at the chair lift installed over three years ago, which had, according to Mom and Dad, eaten every cent of the parish’s budget in order to accommodate the disabled parishioners.

  “It’s pretty popular.” Emery wandered outside. “A lot of the regulars are getting older.”

  “Is the pastoral council worried about nobody replacing them?” The outside stairs were built to accommodate the elderly since each step was wider and shallower than a normal staircase. A landing provided a resting spot for those using walkers or canes.

  “They’re worried. I’m not.” Emery meandered to the lake edge where a few big trees grazed.

  The peaceful spot was a place where Bridget had enjoyed sitting as a teenager, especially on the big branch that hung over the lake. “Why aren’t you worried?”

  “People will always need God. And God is here, waiting.” Emery shifted to his haunches, staring out at the lake. “At the beginning of July, when you told me about Darryl joining forces with the Kabatay family to stop the workshop from happening, I came back here believing my call from God was to help the church and the laity.”

  Bridget might as well humor her brother. He deserved to have his say. Unlike Dad and Jude, Emery didn’t push his beliefs on others. He was merely trying to help.

  “I believed I was responsible for Darryl’s hatred of the church. You always knew the truth about us. I kept denying how I felt.” He rubbed the side of the cup, words slower and voice hushed. “I knew God wanted this workshop to happen. At the time, I believed it was for the people who wanted to seek healing from the residential schools.”

  He faced her. Thoughtfulness filled his gaze. “God has a plan for everyone attending this workshop. I was also included in His plan. He created Darryl for me. I turned away from a wonderful gift our Lord had given me, all because I believed I was doing the right thing by denying who I was by seeking the priesthood.

  “I was wrong.” He frowned. “God desired for Darryl and me to resolve our differences, and we did. The Lord has a plan for everyone, if we are willing to trust Him.”

  The million-dollar question sat on the tip of Bridget’s tongue. “So you think there’s more to Adam moving to Thunder Bay than having full custody of Kyle again.”

  “Darryl gave me great advice on our vision quest.” Emery again rubbed the side of his cup. “He told me what matters is the truth I discover, not anyone else’s truth.”

  “I’m not going into the bush to sit in a swarm of mosquitoes for a whole weekend like you and Darryl did.” A vision quest might have helped Emery and Darryl reconnect, but Bridget’s case was hopeless.

  “I’m not suggesting you do.” Emery’s chuckle cut the mounting tension circulating in Bridget’s limbs. Even his crinkling green eyes melted her wall of defense. “Besides, the humidity would ruin your hairdo.”

  “Oh, puh-leeze, stop it.” She teasingly poked Emery’s knee.

  “There is a place up there to reflect.” He used his thumb to motion at the stairs. Gone was his smile. In its place was his gentle, prodding gaze.

  “There’s nothing to discern.” Bridget yanked at some grass. “This is different. Darryl didn’t make promises he couldn’t keep. Darryl isn’t an alcoholic. Darryl didn’t turn his back on a fiancée and a child to run off and... wallow in self-pity. Darryl didn’t end up in prison... again.”

  “I’m not suggesting you and Adam reconcile. I’m simply asking you to keep an open mind to what our Lord has planned for you.”

  “I know His plan already. Adam’s doing great. In time, he’ll gain full custody of Kyle. God used me as a servant—what He always does—so I could mother Kyle while the Big Guy waited on Adam to get his shit together.”

  The story of Bridget’s life. Sacrifice for others. Helping others. The women were right. She’d used a week’s vacation time to cook and clean. “I promised myself I’d look out for me for round two.” So much for that.

  “Are you?”

  “No. Kyle comes first.” Bridget’s muscles ached from sitting on her haunches. She plopped on the grass and crossed her legs. “Don’t say anything to anyone.”

  “I won’t.”

  “I shouldn’t have asked.” She sighed. “As if you’d reveal someone’s secret.”

  They both shared a quiet smile.

  “Adam and Kyle’s last visit went horrible.” She puffed out a breath and told Emery everything—her talk to Kyle and call to Adam. “Now am I sucker or what?” She drained the last of the iced tea.

  “You’re not a sucker. You did what you thought was right. And it was the right decision for everyone, including you.”

  “Then why does it hurt?” The dull ache in Bridget’s chest continued to throb.

  “Why wouldn’t it hurt? You consider Kyle your son. You’ve known him since you met Adam.” Emery’s soothing tone seemed to brush Bridget’s hair in reassurance in the same way she always lulled Kyle’s anxiety. “Doing the right thing doesn’t mean it won’t hurt.”

  “I’m not in the mood for your logic.” Bridget didn’t mean to snap, but for once, couldn’t someone see things from her point of view?

  “I’m not trying to be logical. I’m being understanding—at least I hoped I was. I didn’t mean to upset you...”

  Guilt niggled in Bridget’s stomach. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  “Don’t apologize. Adam put you in a tough position. What you’re feeling is normal. I wish I had some words of wisdom or could magically take away your pain, but I can’t. I’m sorry. I really am. I don’t want you to lose Kyle either.” He wet his lips. “What I’m trying to say is have faith. It’s why I suggested you should go upstairs and visit Christ. Dad set out the consecrated host for this reason. He wants God’s Son available to those who need Him during the workshop.”

  “When did they set it out?”

  “After Mass this morning.”

  “Will they continue with the daily Mass schedules?”

  “Yes. The Catholic participants wish to attend Mass before the workshop starts. Darryl and Basil are going to run a morning prayer downstairs for the traditional participants. It’s always best to start with prayer before addressing the day.”

  Tires rolling over gravel carried to where they sat. Bridget shifted her focus to Darryl’s truck pulling up. Someone was in the passenger seat. Adam.

  “What’re they doing here?” A flicker of panic sat at the base of Bridget’s spine.

  “It’s a workshop. He’ll be here all week.” Emery’s voice remained calm.

  “I know he will, but I didn’t expect him tonight. I thought he’d—”

  “I told you Darryl’s probably giving Adam a tour of the reserve. The church is part of the reserve.”

  “He’ll see the church all week.” Great, she’d snapped again.

  The truck doors slammed shut. Bandit scampered to where they sat.

  “He’s probably going to show Adam our old trail. It’s a great place to sit and pray.”

  “Oh, your old trail. Darryl took Kyle there when we were last here.” Bridget petted the dog as Bandit yipped and sniffed. Maybe Adam did have a legitimate reason for coming to the church.

  “Hey, how’s it going?” Darryl called out.

&nbs
p; Adam swaggered across the grass. His strong thighs bulged against his jeans, and a beige t-shirt hugged his thick muscles. Black waves of hair edged out from his cowboy hat.

  “I wanted to show Adam a great spot to get away and meditate.” Darryl pointed at the thick bush about five hundred meters away. “There’s a path there. It leads to a set of rocks where you can sit at the water and be alone.”

  “I’ll check it out.” Adam stared at the trail.

  “You didn’t bring the drum?” Emery asked Darryl.

  “Yeah. Got it in the box. Help me bring it inside. Basil wants it set up in the middle.” Darryl meandered to the truck.

  Emery followed.

  Had those two disappeared purposely?

  Bridget rose. She ought to smack her brother and brother-in-law. “I should get inside. The women probably need me.”

  “Whatever you need to do.” Adam’s brow flickered, and his jaw hardened.

  “Bridget, can you do me a favor and show Adam where the trail is?” Darryl called out.

  Tension crawled along Bridget’s shoulders. If Emery had asked, she’d have a reason to be suspicious, but Darryl was busy unloading the sacred drum from his truck.

  “You don’t gotta get all pissy, kwe.” Adam snorted. “I may not have any experience in the bush, but I think I can find a simple trail.”

  “Don’t call me that. C’mon.” She huffed across the grass. “It’s over here.”

  Bridget approached the bush where a stand of poplar trees stood proud. She didn’t have to push against the underbrush because Darryl, she assumed, had kept the old trail clear. “It’s this way.”

  “Guess I should have brought my compass. I wouldn’t have thought of using the opening in the... all this stuff.”

  “It’s underbrush.”

  “Thanks for telling the homeboy what it is.” Sarcasm dripped on Adam’s reply. “I only know how to navigate through the hood.”

  If he didn’t shut his mouth, Bridget would lead him to where the poison ivy was. She pushed at the stray brush along the path.

  “What’s the matter, kwe? Should I ask what you’re thinking?” His stomping feet could have chased away a moose.

  “Do you know what poison ivy is?” She used her sweetest voice.

  “Yeah. Heard of it. What? Is that what you got planned? Gonna toss me in the stuff so I miss the workshop and you don’t gotta look at my ugly mug for the rest of the week?”

  When she tried not to peek over her shoulder, but inched her head very casually to a branch on her left, Bridget’s peripheral vision caught his square jaw, thick lips, hard black eyes, and smooth brown skin. And he wasn’t staring at the trail. He was looking...

  Bridget picked up her pace and scooted to the opening. She stopped at the rocks where a peaceful setting of the lake was supposed to put someone at ease. Instead, the air was sucked from her lungs.

  Chapter Twenty-one: Love Me Forever

  Bridget was just about to pick at her braid. She stopped her shaking hand in midair and forced her traitorous limb to settle on her quivering knee.

  The cruel, straight line of Adam’s lips tugged at the corners. Even his cold eyes unfrosted to black silk. “It’s nice out here.” A loon bobbed in the small waves he pointed at. “Darryl told me to give this spot a try.”

  Bridget shifted on the rock and sat taller. “Emery and Darryl discovered this place when they were kids. They cleared it and came here after Mass.”

  “Darryl went to church?” Adam plopped down on the opposite rock. “Thought he was traditional.”

  “He attended for Emery’s sake, I believe. They were extremely close.”

  “Yeah, kinda thought so. They’re gay.”

  “What do you mean?” The question snapped from Bridget.

  “Easy, kwe. I’m only saying what I see. I don’t go no problem with your brother and his ol’ man. I’m bunking at their crib, ain’t I?”

  “I didn’t mean to jump down your throat.” She smoothed her pants. “I get very defensive when it comes to Emery.”

  “If you wanna jump down my throat, go ahead. At least you’re jumping on something... on me.” Adam’s low rumbling laugh could have shaken the rocks.

  His double meaning hushed the annoyance in Bridget’s chest. A giggle edged up her throat. When she swallowed, the laughter refused to go down and escaped from her mouth.

  “At least I got you laughing, instead of killing me with your eyes.” Adam’s lips remained a smidgen turned up.

  Bridget ran her fingers along the exposed part of her calves.

  “Those are nice. You always got interesting clothes.” He pointed at Bridget’s flower-patterned, wide-leg crops.

  “I ignored the Labor Day rule.”

  “The what?” Adam squinted.

  “You’re not supposed to wear summer clothes after Labor Day. But it’s still hot out.”

  “Wear whatever you want. They look good on you. Hell, anything looks good on you.”

  The compliment scooted up Bridget’s legs, caressing her skin.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m feeling the same way.” His smile vanished, and his gaze hardened to his familiar almost-a-scowl.

  Bridget rubbed her bare arms. She should have worn more than a tank top. The flat, open-toed sandals exposed her feet. Goodness, she was exposed. Heart ready to bust through her ribs. An ocean of water in her throat.

  “How’s your boyfriend?”

  The fever vanished. The pricks and shivers disappeared. “Who?”

  “Bible Boy.”

  “He’s not my boyfriend. I already have a man in my life.”

  Adam’s black brow flickered. “Oh? Who?”

  “Kyle.”

  “Yeah? Then why’d you go out for dinner with him?” Adam didn’t scowl. His voice wasn’t accusing, either.

  A slight breeze rustling through the trees was the only sound present.

  “I simply wanted to go out for dinner. It’s been a long time.”

  “I coulda took you out for dinner. I can’t afford a fancy restaurant, but I can take you somewhere decent.”

  The dreaded fever reappeared, and Bridget glanced away.

  “Kwe, look at me.” His command was gentle enough to smooth Bridget’s hair the way he used to run his strong fingers through each strand, coaxing her to relax and trust him.

  Bridget placed her trembling hands on her knees.

  His eyes softened at the corners. “I’m gonna kiss you.” Each word Adam spoke was husky, as if he’d cupped her face with his big hands.

  The air in Bridget’s lungs collapsed for a moment. She gripped the rock.

  Adam leaned in. The familiar aroma of the water swirled around Bridget. His eyes were half closed, lips slightly parted. The slickness of his dark-brown skin and thickness of his black lashes was a temptation that tugged at Bridget’s limbs. She tried to recoil, but her body refused to listen to her brain.

  His hand cupped her chin. Reassurance filled his sleepy eyes. He guided her lips to his.

  Helplessness engulfed Bridget’s shaking body, tangling her in its stiff web.

  He was bearing down, his masculine scent invading her space. When his lips swept against her mouth, she edged in, slightly. His moist flesh moving in rhythm with hers tangled Bridget in a layer of velvet. For a big, strong man, his kiss was tender.

  Adam eased his tongue between Bridget’s lips. His saliva melted along her tongue, his scent tasty and balmy with a hint of tobacco. A moan skittered up her throat. The kiss wrapped Bridget in a ball of confusion, coaxing her to surrender to the desire massaging the ache inside her panties.

  She stroked his cheekbone, and he groaned.

  When Adam’s strong arms encircled Bridget’s waist, she was guided off the rock and settled on his brawny thighs.

  “Adam,” she whispered.

  “Easy.” His voice mirrored a lullaby, enticing Bridget to let the fevered heat guide her back into the kiss.

  She accepted Adam’s gentle
assault on her mouth. His palm rubbed the small of her back. His other hand brushed her outer thigh, his strokes mirroring his past reassuring caresses.

  Bridget ran her nails along his shoulders. Adam’s grunt of pleasure said he still enjoyed when she lightly scratched him, or dug hard into his flesh, bold enough to break the skin stretching across his muscles.

  His tongue became an invading force, robbing Bridget of her breath, demanding she succumb to his assault. She melted to his forceful attack of claiming licks.

  Adam’s palm stroking her outer thigh inched to her buttock. Bridget tensed but kept sampling the silk of his mouth. The heat of his skin rested beneath her ass, hot enough to penetrate the cotton pants and sear his imprint through the satin panties.

  She curled her fingers around his thick waves and pushed off the cowboy hat. His other hand skimmed Bridget’s bare arm. For a moment, her heart seemed to shrivel and hide because this meant he planned on working his way to her breast.

  His hand was below Bridget’s ribcage, easing upward. His demanding kiss didn’t allow her a second of air that her aching lungs needed.

  When Adam’s finger skimmed Bridget’s nipple, his flesh singed the fabric to tease and taunt the tip straining for his touch. The print of his finger was a hushed breath of air, a light exploration he must have savored by the moan that came from him and reverberated inside Bridget’s mouth.

  His hard cock pushed against her thigh. Excitement throbbed between Bridget’s legs, a quivering anticipation that coiled from her clit to her closing throat.

  She tugged at his t-shirt and drew the garment from the waist of Adam’s jeans. This earned her breast hard caresses and a light nipple pinch. His tongue plunged deeper, searching. She glided her fingers across his smooth flesh, tracing the muscles of his chest that heaved from his heavy breaths.

  Adam yanked Bridget’s shirt free from the waistband of the pants. Panic vibrated in her aching lungs.

  He must have sensed her stiffen, or noticed she’d stopped exploring his hard pecs. His tongue slipped from Bridget’s mouth. Her lids flickered. A mixture of excitement and concern prowled in his eyes. His thumb kneaded her cheek.