by L. J. Wilson
Evie was half-dozing, half reading a book when there was a knock on the door. On a cumbersome struggle out of the chair she began a conversation with Hannah. “Such formality. Really, Hannah, I hope it’s because your hands are full of lemon meringue pie. I wasn’t joking entirely when I said I had a wicked crav—”
Reverend Kane stood on the other side of the door. Evie hadn’t seen him since the night she’d struck him on the head with the metal easel—the same night he’d tried to force himself on her in an effort to continue the Kane pedigree. A scar was evident on his temple, and she wondered how he’d explained it to his followers.
“Wicked. An excellent choice of words, and a fair place to begin this conversation,” he said. Evie tried to push the door shut, but she was no match for the Reverend. She stumbled backward, catching herself on the stone edge of the fireplace. A forceful slam of the door followed, shaking the cabin’s frame.
“I’ll be gone by morning,” she said, hoping it might end the exchange.
“It’s exactly why I’m visiting tonight. I’ve waited a long time for this meeting, daughter.”
“Don’t call me—”
“Oh, do you prefer your true name? Slut… whore… harlot. Choose one.”
He stood so close she could smell Adah’s mint iced tea on his breath. But Evie was in no mood to be bullied. She glanced at the fire. “It’s hot enough. Perhaps you’d like to brand me with a scarlet A. Call me whatever you like—I don’t give a damn what you think.”
“A foulmouthed slut at that. You’ve always been so quick to dismiss what I think.”
“If you’ve come here to name call, I’ll take a turn.” Evie inched even closer, words ticking off her tongue. “Liar, drug dealer, gun runner… rapist, if you’d had your way.”
He’d been staring at the hearth and his cool gaze met Evie’s. “A common rapist?” he said, incredulous. “Think harder, Evie. You’d been married to my son for more than a year. It was… it still is crucial that the Kane bloodline continues. As the anointed leader of this community, it was my obligation to make certain—”
Evie inched back. “Obligation? Is that what you tell yourself? If Ezra only knew…”
“What Ezra knows. It’s another fine topic.” He glanced at her swollen stomach, smiling thinly. Evie spied the iron poker, slightly concerned that it sat to his right. “Here you stand, on the verge of spitting out—two, I understand—more bastards belonging to the mission.”
Evie’s arms folded.
“That’s, of course, assuming they are the mission’s.” And his thin smile grew wider. “Your friend, Hannah…”
“Hannah would never betray me.”
“Perhaps not. But she would confide in her husband. Tobias has always been a loyal and obedient follower. He shared with me your visit nearly nine months ago, how much time you spent with Ezra. How grateful you were that my son saved your life. I’m here now to explore the possibility.”
Evie kept a firm poker face. “Possibility of what?”
“Must I spell it out for you? Sleeping with your husband before your lover rose from the dead. Tobias tells me the paternity of the children is unknown. And if those children are Ezra’s,” he said, pointing to Evie’s belly. “They belong to him. They belong to the Fathers of the Right. They belong to me. They’re my legacy. You will not defy me nor deny my right to them.”
“Are you insane?” Evie said, though she wrapped her hand protectively around her stomach. “You won’t get anywhere near my children.”
“Another quick assumption. I’m well versed in what separates church from state, Evie. I know every right and religious freedom this community possesses. No court will rule in your favor. Choose to award two innocent babies to their adulteress mother and a man unrelated to them, an infidel with mafia ties and a history of drug-running. Not when their cleric father, a man morally and legally entitled to them has so much to offer. The bloodline shall not be severed—not by you.”
“That… that’s absurd.”
“Is it?” he said calmly. “I assure you, the state will be greatly reluctant to interfere in a religious matter of this magnitude.”
Evie opened her mouth to object—to tell him that the state might be interested in the Reverend’s own lurid activities. But as Evie tried to speak, outrage turned to pain. The Reverend cocked his head and for a moment concern filled his gray face. The pain subsided and Evie caught her breath.
“It never crossed your mind, did it?” he said. “You never considered how coming back to Good Hope is an opportunity from the Lord, your chance to make things right.” Evie didn’t respond, the pain gripping her again. It wasn’t her intention to reach out, but there was nothing else near. The Reverend grasped her arm, his eyes lighting as if his anointed plan was falling into place.
“You understand? You agree? You’ll remain inside this sanctuary until those children are born.”
Evie shook her head, now struggling against his hold. “No…” she said, her teeth gritted. “I’d never do anything of the kind.” But pain was quickly overtaking any ability to respond. Her actions were the opposite of her words, squeezing harder to the Reverend’s arm.
The cabin door burst open and Alec came tearing through. Aaron followed, looking sleepy and dragging a Teddy bear. Reverend Kane jerked her closer and the boys froze in their steps. “These must be your heathen spawn,” he said. “See. God is merciful. Afterward, you can take them and go. Have a dozen more. But I know from heaven to here in Good Hope, those two,” he said, poking at Evie’s stomach, “are Ezra’s… and they’re mine.”
Alec was immediately aware. Evie saw the look on his face change, focused and angry. He shouted for the Reverend to let go of his mother. Evie tried to quiet him, assuring Alec everything was fine. But the tension heightened as Aaron sensed trouble too, wrapping his small arms around his mother’s leg. Both boys clamored for Evie—Aaron out of fright, Alec out of suspicion.
“Wild, little animals, aren’t they?” he said as if fascinated. “Feral, like their father. Tell me, daughter, has he turned you out? Did the mission learn of what you’ve done? Is that it, the reason you’re here—alone?”
Evie no longer struggled. She couldn’t risk further alarming Alec. He was so much like Sebastian; his protective instincts couldn’t be fooled. His small body was ready to pounce. Evie pictured it too clearly, the Reverend Kane backhanding her son right into the fire. “Alec, no,” she said, seeing her son eye the fireplace poker. Evie turned her attention back to the Reverend. “Fine,” she said negotiating pain, her sons, and the Reverend. “If you want to discuss it rationally, let’s go to the meeting hall or to your office.” Evie tried turning for the door. The Reverend pulled her back.
His grip was tight, her condition too cumbersome. “When I insisted Nolan Creek move out of this cabin, I almost asked that it be torn down. There was something unsavory about the way he lived here. I understand now why God counseled me otherwise. Man could never imagine this den of iniquity producing my legacy. Though I do suppose,” he said, a wild-eyed gaze traveling the room, “it is a fitting place with you as the vessel.”
With every bit of strength she had, Evie pulled away. But she jerked like a spring as the Reverend yanked her forward. She resisted and felt a terrific thud as her head collided with the mantel. Through a woozy gaze, looking up, the last thing she saw was the fireplace poker clenched in Alec’s small fist. The last thing she heard was Sebastian’s voice.
Present Day
Good Hope, Pennsylvania
As Ezra spoke, they’d listened like a sermon in church—Jess and four members of the Tribe of Five crammed around the cabin’s kitchen table. Jake and Troy had joined them from the center of Good Hope not long after the younger reverend arrived. Ezra had elaborated on Hannah’s story about Evie returning to Good Hope for a second time. She’d come back because of a fierce fight with Sebastian. He went on to say how his own father had violently confronted Evie that night. “Sebastian, he a
rrived just in time.”
“I remember that part,” Alec said. “Your father, he kept saying something like ‘they’re mine’ and I remember reaching for the fireplace poker. Then Pop came in—charged in maybe. I went from terrified to relieved, in all of two seconds.”
“Your father had that gift, always showing up at just the right moment where Evie was concerned. As usual, I lagged behind. Once Hannah got word to me, I returned to Good Hope immediately. I couldn’t believe how my father had come after Evie. Of course, that paled in comparison to my shock over your mother’s… condition.”
As he spoke, Alec’s gaze remained on the fireplace poker, frustrated by a child’s vague recollections. He looked at Ezra. “Why would my mother’s condition come as a shock to you? Why would it matter?”
Ezra’s thin chest rose and fell. “How, um… What did Hannah tell you about your mother and me—our relationship.”
“That the two of you grew up together here, in Good Hope,” Alec said. “That you were best friends. Between you and Hannah, I could see why she might have chosen to come back after she thought Pop was dead.”
“Alec and I only remember bits and pieces, this cabin mostly,” Aaron added.
Ezra stared thoughtfully at his folded hands.
“Praying, Reverend?” Alec asked.
To his surprise, Ezra nodded. “Praying for the wisdom to know how much of this story I have a right to tell.”
“Sebastian and Evie would want you tell us all of it.”
“How can you know that?” Ezra asked.
“Hannah didn’t tell you about the plane.”
The Reverend shook his head. “Only that Evie’s sons were here and that I needed to come back to Good Hope.”
Alec pulled his phone from his pocket. “While Jess was on a story assignment in a remote area of Colombia, she discovered a plane crash on an island off the coast. It was the plane my father was piloting the night it vanished.”
“The plane—” Ezra touched his mouth, his hand trembling. “You’ll forgive me. After all these years, to know how she… how they…”
“That was our reaction,” Jake said, removing the ball cap he wore and placing it on the table. He dragged his hand through dark blond hair. “Jess and Alec went to the island. They saw the wreckage, Isla de la—”
“Muerte…” Ezra said.
“You know the island?” Alec asked.
“Duncan, my father, he… I’ve heard of it,” Ezra replied. “It’s about a hundred miles south of the area where I once did mission work.”
“Okay,” Alec said. “We’ll circle back around to that. For now, take a look at this.” He handed Ezra the phone, showing him the image of the crash site, the bloody initials on the side of the plane.
Ezra’s startled look grew more distraught.
“I think we’re now clear that E.K. is you. All the messages Evie and Sebastian could have left us, and it’s your initials on our family tree that we find. So yes, sitting here, right now with ‘E.K.’—I believe it’s a direct request that you explain. I’d even go as far to say that it’s Evie’s last wish.”
“Be careful what you wish for, Alec,” Ezra said, his face grim.
Alec held steady but had the distinct impression the cryptic message wasn’t going to be anything he wanted to hear.
“Fine. So be it,” the Reverend said. “It’s not as if I could ever deny your mother anything—including a last wish. So let me go back to the story of that night, here in the cabin. It’s where it begins, the explanation you’ve come for,” he said to Alec.
“Evie ended up going into labor—a result of the stress and circumstance—surely my father’s actions. Hannah had been only a few paces behind Sebastian, following you boys to the cabin.” Ezra pointed a finger at Alec and Aaron. “But it was long enough for Sebastian to assert himself into the situation. Hannah said she’d never seen anything like it. Your father was furious at mine, and not without cause. Sometimes… Well, I think if your mother hadn’t been in such distress, Sebastian might have killed Duncan. As it was, he struck my father so hard he knocked out two teeth. My father’s disdain for Evie ran deep. Only his contempt for your father surpassed it. It’d seemed that way from the moment he’d arrived in Good Hope.”
“All because Evie Neal chose to leave this place with Sebastian Clair… Christos?” Alec said.
“Not quite.” Reverend Kane looked to the empty hearth then he looked at the Clairmont faces in front of him. “Not hardly. When your mother left Good Hope with Sebastian she was married to me.”
“She was...” Alec leaned in. “You’re going to have to say that again.”
“Married to me.” Ezra’s Adam’s apple bobbed through his reedy throat. “It’s true. Evie and I were married for over a year. What’s more, we remained man and wife until the day she died.”
“To our mother?” Jake said, going for pinpoint clarification.
“To your mother,” Ezra replied.
Troy blinked hard, speaking to no one in particular. “Damn. If that doesn’t answer Nickel Springs most burning question since… well, before I was born.”
“It was a marriage sanctified by the Fathers of the Right leadership since we were children. It was always to be, Evie and I would marry.”
“An arranged marriage,” Jess said.
“For one of us, that turned out to be an apt description. As Hannah told you, Evie and I were the best of friends. We never questioned the proclamation of marriage. I loved her very much. I never saw it as an arrangement, but a gift. For a time, I believe Evie felt the same way.”
“Until the mission showed up,” Alec said.
Ezra nodded. “Your father was brought to Good Hope to provide a safe haven. He was in a great deal of trouble with his Greek mafia ties—the Godfathers of the Night.”
“The what?” Jake said from the chair he straddled. “This is starting to sound like my next movie script.”
“I suppose it’s what they say, truth being stranger than fiction.” They all paused for a moment, almost taking a collective breath. “I don’t know the details of what brought Sebastian here, and I’ll spare you the parts of the story that no longer matter. But know that when Evie chose to leave here, she did so married to me.”
Alec eased back in his chair. “Why didn’t she just divorce you?”
Ezra shook his head as the question left Alec’s mouth. “Just divorce me, end a union considered a godly decree?” His tone had shifted to something that didn’t fit with any modern-day, easy-fix on the matter. “It’s not possible. Evie knew that. No matter how far from the Fathers of the Right she strayed, our marriage would always be.”
“And that doesn’t strike you as a little… hard-assed—especially after she and Sebastian had five kids?”
Jess reached out, giving Alec’s thigh the squeeze that said calm down.
But the accusation didn’t ruffle the cloistered man across from him. He took a deep breath and continued. “Your inability to comprehend our ways is a large part of the reason we live as we do. You perceive it as us shunning the outside world. We know it preserves our way of life—a life we have a right to if you check the Constitution. Good Hope isn’t about accepting what’s popular or common. And within our doctrine, there’s no bond more sacred than marriage. Except,” Ezra said, tugging at the edge of his clerical collar, “perhaps children.
“And so the subject brings us back to that night and the reason for my father’s fury. Speaking strictly from the standpoint of doctrine, the elder Reverend Kane felt he was entitled to the children your mother was carrying—if they extended our family bloodline.”
“And why the hell would he think that?” Alec said.
“Because there was a reasonable chance I was their father.”
It seemed unlikely in such a small space, filled with so many people, that utter silence would prevail.
Hannah’s words rolled through Alec’s head and out of his mouth. “Two visits to Good Hope less tha
n a year apart. That’s what they’d fought about, why Pop was so angry, because…”
“In your mother’s defense, she believed he was dead. She’d been told as much by the people he worked for. Still… a man like your father…”
Aaron leaned back in. “I’d guess pissed off wouldn’t begin to describe his reaction.”
“Not the language I would choose, but yes.” Ezra cleared his throat. “I ask that you take my word as proof of the possibility. I prefer to keep the details of that night private.”
Four sets of Clairmont hands shot up at once. Only Jess spoke. “I guess that’s a hell of a story all on its own.”
“And mine to keep,” Ezra said.
Realization traveled from one brother to the next, all eyes eventually ending up on Jake, whose stare burned through Ezra. Confident was a word that readily described movie-icon Jake Clairmont. Not at the moment. At the moment, Alec saw raw nerves dangling off of him like the fate of a cliff, everything he’d ever known coming into question.
“After arriving back in Good Hope, I went on to the hospital. You were there with your sister,” he said to Jake. “But I barely glanced in the nursery window. In that second, I only wanted to know if Evie was all right.” He smiled at Troy. “She would be fine, or so I learned. Your father… He was, understandably, not overjoyed to see me. Before any of us had a chance to say much of anything, a nurse wheeled in two bassinettes. I was unaware that three people could hold their collective breath for so long. No one said a word until after she left. Even then…”
Jake’s gaze moved anxiously from brother to brother. Alec knew what he was doing—assuring himself he was a Clairmont. Out of the four boys, he looked the least like Sebastian, which was to only say he wasn’t the mirror image of Alec and Aaron, didn’t bear quite the resemblance Troy did. But given the circumstance, Alec did wonder if they’d merely seen what made sense over the years. “And…” Alec finally prodded.