9781618857613SacredWaterMichaels

by Lydia Michaels

  “But I am—”

  “I know. But every time you apologize you say goodbye.”

  “Oh.”

  He wanted to say sorry for that too, but figured it best if he refrained.

  “I’ll try not to do that anymore.”

  She blushed. He loved the way that behind all that assumed confidence and American girl charm there was something definitively demure lurking.

  “Are you a virgin?” He had no idea where the question came from, but couldn’t regret asking it, even when he saw he had shocked her. Her blush moved from soft pink to crimson.

  “I…well…I’m twenty-four.”

  “And I’m twenty-nine.”

  “You’re different.”

  “So are you. Answer the question, Sammy. I’m not going to ask you to say a Rosary.”

  “Yes. There was one guy, but he wasn’t right for me and we broke up before it got that far. Since then I’ve dated, but not really ever felt serious enough about anyone to go that far.”

  The relief he felt that she had definitely not slept with Braydon was immeasurable.

  “You are too, right?”

  He laughed. “Being that I had my first real shot at making out the other day, what do you think?”

  The side of her mouth kicked up, forming a small dimple in her cheek. “Good.”

  He sobered for a minute. “You know I can’t.”

  He regretted that his words caused her smile and dimple to disappear. “I know. We shouldn’t anyway. It isn’t right.”

  “Don’t think I don’t want to, Samantha. I look at you and feel as if I’ll crawl out of my skin if I don’t touch you. You make me feel things I’ve never felt. But my path was chosen years ago. It’s all I’ve ever wanted and I’m only months away from getting there. I cannot…It would confuse things, that’s all. And it would be wrong for me to take something that’s meant for your husband.”

  “I’m not a virgin by choice, Colin. It has nothing to do with religion or God or anything other than I never met a man worth giving it to.”

  He wanted to know if she’d give it to him if he asked, but knew that would only be inviting trouble.

  Instead, he inquired, “Why do you dislike the church so much?”

  She laughed without humor. “If there is a God, He’s cruel and selfish and no friend of mine.”

  His heart ached to hear such disdain for the one ideal his life had been dedicated to. She wasn’t the first to express such views to him, but for some reason it made him feel like he had even less of her approval he assumed he had a moment ago.

  “God loves us all, Sammy.”

  “Do not speak pious platitudes to me, Colin McCullough. You have no idea what my life was before I came here.”

  She was right. He was only being given this small snippet of her and he wanted more.

  “Tell me.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you’ll comfort me and I’ll only love you more fiercely for it and in the end I’ll be destroyed all the more.”

  He stilled. Did she realize what she just said?

  She looked up at him, a frown crinkling her brow. “What?”

  “Did you hear yourself, Sammy? What you said?”

  “That I’ll only love you more? Yes. I know what I said.”

  He wanted to convince her it wasn’t so. Somehow persuade her so their separation wouldn’t be as monumentally heart wrenching in the end. He took both her hands in his.

  “Sammy, what this is, what you feel for me, it isn’t love. You’re just infatuated right now.”

  “Do not presume to tell me how I feel, Colin. I know my heart. People assume it takes years and months to love someone and that our affection must be rationed to only the best of the best. Well, I think that’s bullshit. Life’s too short not to tell those we love that they mean something to us. What I feel for you…you may never be my husband, or my lover, or even my friend, but there is a very real part of me that loves you. Maybe it’s because of the way you are with the others, maybe it’s the way you helped me when I lost it at the lake, or maybe it’s because I’ll never completely have you, but whatever it is, it’s real and you will not take it away from me because it makes this more difficult for you.”

  She was right. He loved her too. Still, he wanted to convince her otherwise. How had things gotten so out of control? “Who did you lose the chance to say I love you to?”

  She looked down and he tipped her chin back up gently.

  “I’ll never have the pleasure of being all those things to you, Samantha, but let me know you. Give me something of yourself I’ll never lose once I take my vows. Something to always hold onto. We’re friends.”

  Her gaze lowered as if she were suddenly engulfed in sadness, an abyss of memories only she could see.

  “My sister.”

  His blood turned to ice at her words.

  “She was twelve. I was fourteen. I could’ve saved her. Do you know what it feels like to know you had a chance to make everything different but you made the wrong choice and let it all slip away? It’s an unrelenting guilt that never leaves, a daily reminder that your life should have been different and will always be a little duller, a little less happy, always halfway full. And when you try to convince yourself it’s time to let the guilt go, something reminds you of all the others you hurt by choosing wrong, and you sentence yourself to a million more years of guilt and know it’ll still never be enough to reverse what’s been done.”

  “I’m so sorry, Samantha. I had no idea.”

  Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, but he could tell she was working very hard not to let them fall. Was that part of her sentence? Did she take away her right to cry for her own pain over losing her sister?

  He moved to the bed and pulled her into his arms. His soul needed to comfort her. Needed to hold her. This was what she was afraid of, him doing just that and making their situation all the more complicated. He should have just let her muddle through, but he couldn’t. He was a selfish bastard.

  His lips kissed her temple and breathed in the clean scent of her hair laced with traces of smoke from the bonfire. Somehow their bodies twisted and settled so that his back rested against the headboard and her head rested on his chest. He continued to run his fingers over her hair, his palm over her shoulders, touching her anyway he could, as she spoke.

  “It was winter and so cold even the Delaware had partially frozen over. Big blocks of white ice floated on the surface and all the foliage along the banks was temporarily frozen in place in the direction of whatever way the wind had last blown.

  “We grew up between the creek and the river. Whenever it was cold enough we’d skate on the canal. That was the coldest winter I had ever seen. One morning, Meghan and I decided we’d go down to the canal to see if it was ready. My parents told us to wait for them, but I was fourteen and in no need of parental advice. We bundled up, grabbed our skates and headed across the frosted yard and into the woods. The canal was on the perimeter of our property, but still a ways from the house.

  “As soon as we got there we smiled. It was a perfect canvas of untouched ice. We laced up our skates and tossed our shoes to the side. Meghan was the first to hit the ice. I was still lacing up my one skate as I watched her wobble through the dried decaying autumn leaves and down the bank. She stepped onto the ice just as I was standing and I rushed to catch up to her, afraid she’d hog all the fun and mark the ice before I had a chance. We liked to try and write our names in the surface with the blades of our skates and see who could make the best figure eight. She laughed as she coasted onto the ice and I told her I was going to race her to the bridge and win.

  “When my foot first touched the surface there was a weird sound in the distance. When ice breaks, it doesn’t sound like you think it should. It isn’t loud, or rolling, it’s soft, like a cloud breaking off and floating to a different part of the sky. I didn’t know what I heard, but I looked anyway. There was a lay
er of frost on the surface so it was difficult to see any fractures. When I heard the sound again it was followed by Meghan’s squealing laughter as she raced down the canal toward the bridge. That was when it hit me and I realized what the sound was.

  “I screamed her name as hard as I could and rushed to go after her, but before I even had both feet on the ice she’d disappeared. I never felt so alone in my entire life. Everything was silent. There wasn’t a splash or a creak or even a whisper in the empty woods. It felt like an hour, but I could’ve only been standing there for a minute. I didn’t understand why she didn’t just climb back out. It was a shallow canal. In the spring it barely reached our knees.

  Once I realized she was trapped under the ice I didn’t know what to do. I thought to skate over to where she fell through, but hesitated; afraid I might fall in as well. I wanted to run for help, but with my skates it would’ve taken to long and been too late. The only thing I could think to do was trudge across the bank and get to where she had fallen. I kept talking to her as if she were right beside me the entire time, ‘It’s okay, Meghan. I’m coming, Meghan. We’ll get you out and Mom will make cocoa and let you use the heated blanket to get warm again.’ I think I even made a joke that while she was being babied I would be grounded for life for not listening to our parents.

  “By the time I reached the hole in the ice I was flushed and sweating. I bit off my mittens and carefully crawled toward the opening. For a minute I thought she somehow tricked me. The hole seemed too small for her to fit through and there was a branch sticking out which told me the water was really shallow where she’d gone through. I actually looked around to see if she was hiding somewhere and considered that the entire thing was a dream, but then I saw her hand. It was already turning blue.

  “I crawled as close as I could to where she was and began clawing at the ice. I must have been screaming because at some point my mother and father were there. My dad was in his slippers still. I watched him step into the water and try to break away the ice. He eventually got through it with the use of a heavy branch, but it was too late. Meghan drowned.”

  Sam lost the battle with her tears. Warm wet puddles gathered on his chest. He held her and rocked her and thought of all the things he’d been advised to tell grieving family members who had lost loved ones, but none of those words seemed good enough for Samantha.

  Eventually, she sat up and looked at him. Her hair was a mess and her eyes were red and puffy, yet she was still more beautiful than any woman he’d ever seen. He brushed her hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear.

  “I’m so incredibly sorry you had to suffer through that and that you’re still struggling with grief. Your loss is…it’s something no one should have to cope with. I’m sorry, Sammy.”

  “Since then I’ve been terrified of water.”

  He understood that without explanation. “Is it something you’re okay with or is it something you wish you could conquer?”

  “I don’t think anyone likes feeling afraid or weak. But it’s my kryptonite. Whenever I’m close to water I become crippled with fear. I’ve tried hypnosis, therapy, meds, nothing helps. If I push myself I eventually shut down and have a panic attack. You saw how lovely they can be.”

  His fingers softly pinched her chin. “You’re too much in your head. You need a distraction. I bet if you were able to let go and forget about what happened you would actually be able to swim quite well. You have to trust yourself.”

  “I can’t swim. I haven’t done it since I was thirteen. Besides, I think it would be impossible to swim while hyperventilating which is exactly what would happen if I tried.”

  “And that’s why you need to be distracted.”

  He kissed her lips softly, unable to resist the temptation.

  “I sometimes fill in as a lifeguard at the youth center. I’m certified in CPR and even competed on the swim team in high school. If you’d like, I could teach you. I’d never force you if you were afraid, but I could go to the lake with you or to the community pool and we could try some techniques out, see how close to the water you can get. The moment you feel a panic attack coming on, you tell me and we return to dry ground.”

  “I couldn’t go to a pool. It’s incredibly embarrassing when I lose it. I’d be humiliated if I broke down in front of all those people.”

  “What about in front of me?”

  “No. Not in front of you. Besides the fact that you’ve already seen me lose it, I trust you, Colin. I know you’d never judge me or make fun of me. I also know that you’d never let anything harm me even if it meant getting yourself hurt in the process.”

  To hear someone say those things about his character, actually about him, not about his vocational worth or intent, was incredibly moving. So many others saw him as a figure in a gown, although he had yet to earn that robe. The moment he announced his intentions of becoming a priest, people began treating him differently. From that moment he had always felt a little bit farther away, on the outside looking in. Even his family sometimes held him at arms' length as if he couldn’t possibly understand what everyday life involved.

  Not Samantha, though. She made him feel as if he belonged. Had a place right by her side where he would always fit in. Until she left and he took his vows that was.

  “What is it?” she asked curling up on her knees more.

  “What?”

  “Your expression just turned so sad.”

  “Oh, I was just thinking.”

  “About what?” She ran her fingertips lightly over his chest and he wondered if she was even aware that she was touching him.

  “My fears.”

  “What do you fear, Colin?”

  “Losing you.”

  Her hand stilled. She glanced at him as if weighing his sincerity.

  He was being completely genuine. In ten years he had been unwavering about his purpose in this life, yet since meeting Samantha, he began wondering if there was a path that led to a more rewarding life. A life by her side.

  He wanted her, but he’d always heard that love fades. He loved God and the church. His vocation was like a burning in his bones, but now a new burn had started to grow and he wasn’t sure what to do anymore. The reality was that he’d never be brave enough to throw it all away on a whim. It would make a mockery of all his hard work and sacrifice thus far and if he made a mistake, it would be Samantha who would take the brunt of the consequence.

  “You’ll be an incredible wife someday to a very lucky man, Sammy. Perhaps you’ll ask me to perform the ceremony.”

  Coldness settled in her eyes and he wondered if he said too much. He was only trying to ground them both with a dose of reality, but she clearly didn’t appreciate it.

  “Don’t try to push me away with passive aggressive comments, Colin. If you want me to go, I’ll go, but at least have the courage to ask for what you want.”

  She was right. It was a cheap shot intended to cut, but again, he wounded her in the process. He was about to say sorry, but didn’t want her to misinterpret it as goodbye. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have made such a comment. It was insensitive and I was only being spiteful at myself, but unintentionally hurt you. I’ll try not to do that anymore.”

  “Well, after all that now I feel badly. Just be honest with me. Don’t patronize me or try to pretend this is leading to a place that it’s not. I understand what the reality is. I’m a big girl. But you need to be honest with me or things will only get more confusing than they already are.”

  “You’re right.”

  She settled back down by his side and he held her close. They continued to talk for several more hours about everything from how they spent most of their days as children, to what their kindergarten teachers’ names were, to whom they took to the prom. With every word Colin recognized they were only making the inevitable harder on themselves, but neither one of them seemed to care.

  By four a.m. the others had all come home and they laughed as they heard them stumbling d
own the hall. Sammy had grown sleepy and was only speaking in one word answers that didn’t always match the questions he asked.

  He needed to say goodnight, but he hated the idea of letting her go. When she didn’t answer his last question or reply, he softly whispered her name. Carefully, he sat up and lifted her into his arms. She grumbled and cuddled closer to his chest.

  He carried her through the bathroom and into his brother’s room, holding her in one arm and pulled the covers back, careful not to jostle her too much. When he laid her down he saw that she was once again awake.

  “Will you hide from me now?”

  “No. I’m through hiding.”

  She shut her eyes and smiled. “Love you, Colin McCullough.”

  He fought so hard to not say the words back. Pressing his lips tight, he kissed his fingertips and touched them to her forehead. Her breathing settled and she had once again drifted off.

  “Love you too, Sammy.”

  Chapter Eleven

  When Sam awoke on Saturday half the house was empty. Frank and the majority of his children and his nephews had gone on a fishing trip. With all that they had discussed the night before, Samantha wasn’t sure what Colin’s plans were. She didn’t have to wait long to find out.

  As she sat on the bed tying her shoe there was a knock on the bathroom door. She stood and reached to open the door. Colin stood in the doorway holding her shampoo.

  “Hey,” she greeted.

  “Hey,” he said, leaning around the doorjamb as if he was looking for something. “I ran out of shampoo and was wondering if I could use some of—”Satisfied that they were alone, he tossed the shampoo onto the counter and tugged her against his chest then yanked the bathroom door closed. His lips found hers and her body thrilled at the way he kissed her. How cute was he making up stories about shampoo so he had an excuse to knock on her door?

  “God, you taste good.” He said as he plopped her bottom onto the counter.

  He leaned into her and her knees came up, clamping around his hips. Holy shit, he was kissing her like a mad man. Her body was already trembling, her sex moistening, and her breasts heavy and wanting to be touched. In a moment of pure blind courage she grabbed for his hand and slid it under the hem of her t-shirt.