Unbroken Vows

by Christine Pope

  After he’d taken his position at the lectern on the altar, he spoke, his voice deep and quiet, calm. “Blessed be God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.”

  Everyone responded, “And blessed be his kingdom, now and forever. Amen.”

  Will went on from there, speaking a few more words before reading from a psalm she’d never heard before. Not so surprising — the only one she’d ever known more than a few words of was the twenty-third, but she knew this wasn’t that. It spoke of strength, and love, and opening oneself to God, and although she wasn’t quite sure she was ready to go that far, she had to admit that maybe — just maybe — Someone was out there helping her along. Otherwise, would she have survived all the ordeals that had been thrust in her path?

  The thought was oddly reassuring. Or maybe it was just that she found it difficult to believe anything truly bad could happen when she had a man like Will Gordon at her side. Either way, even though she’d been sort of cajoled into coming today, she found herself glad that she had. Maybe this was just the pause before the hammer fell, or the deep breath that needed to be taken before the final leg of the race, but she allowed herself to take comfort in the things she knew she could count on — Will’s love, the love of her mother and her sisters, Michael and Audrey’s friendship. They were all so important, and she made an inner vow never to take any of them for granted.

  When Will was done speaking, everyone rose from their pews. Rosemary did so as well, feeling a bit awkward because of the way she stumbled to her feet a bit later than everyone else. Then the music swelled, and everyone picked up their hymnals and opened them to a particular page — something specified in the program she’d been given, although since she hadn’t known exactly what to expect, she hadn’t committed the number to memory. Even so, she picked up the book, glanced sideways at Gloria to see that they were on page 382, and glanced down at the words.

  Praise God from Whom all blessings flow.

  She’d never heard the hymn before, but the music was beautiful, and she decided to relax and let herself simply read along as the rest of the congregation sang. In a way, even though she certainly wasn’t religious and — at least not until recently — didn’t actually believe in God, she could see why people would take comfort in participating in such a ritual. She thought of how Will had told her he had a complete tin ear, and wondered what he’d done growing up in the church if he’d had to sing along with everyone else. The image of a much younger Will Gordon, gawky and with his voice breaking, brought a smile to her lips, although she tried to smother it, thinking this probably wasn’t the place to be standing there grinning like an idiot for no perceptible reason.

  No one seemed to notice, thankfully. He spoke again, reflecting on miracles, of the everyday sorts of wonders that entered people’s lives, often unnoticed. Several times, his gaze caught hers before it moved on to somewhere else in the congregation, and each time, Rosemary could feel her cheeks warm with sudden heat. She didn’t want to be conceited, but she somehow knew that when he spoke of miracles, he was also talking about her, about the connection they shared, something that had come almost out of nowhere with the force of a river raging in flood.

  Well, he was a miracle, too. And she had to make sure he knew that.

  Eventually, the service wound down to the offering of the Eucharist, and Rosemary stayed seated at her pew, trying her best to ignore her discomfort as the members of the congregation came forward and were given the sacramental bread and wine. No, she wasn’t the only person who remained sitting down and didn’t partake, but they were definitely in the minority. Will had told her that you didn’t have to be an official member of the congregation or even a practicing Episcopalian to take part, but a person did have to be baptized, and she knew she never had been. She wondered, with a wry twist of her lips, what would have happened during such a procedure if it had been attempted when she was a child. Probably nothing, considering that Caleb seemed to be completely unaffected by holy water.

  And at last it was over, and Gloria was telling her that they were having a harvest luncheon in the meeting hall, and of course, Rosemary had to come. She knew all this already, since Will had tried to be as clear as he could in what to expect, but still, she was glad she had someone to guide her out of the chapel and across the way to the large hall that the church used for receptions and other gatherings. Long tables had been set up with paper tablecloths, and colorful fall arrangements of silk autumn leaves and gourds were placed in the center of those tables.

  Will had warned Rosemary that it would take him a little time to get out of his priestly vestments, so she took a seat at one of the tables, assuring Gloria that she was just fine and that Will would be along in a little bit. The other woman smiled and said she would be back, but there were some people she needed to talk to.

  “Thank you for keeping me company,” Rosemary added, and Gloria patted her on the shoulder.

  “No worries,” she said. “Honestly, I’m just glad that Will found himself such a lovely girl.”

  She hurried off then, while yet another flush rose in Rosemary’s cheeks. Yes, it was nice to know that one of the people Will worked with closely seemed to approve of her, but she wasn’t used to being praised quite so overtly.

  And there he was, still in the long black robe and priestly collar he’d worn under the formal over-garments he’d donned for the service, but not quite as forbidding. No, actually, she thought he looked positively yummy in the getup, which seemed to only emphasize the breadth of his shoulders and the narrowness of his waist. “Is it wrong that I want to do unspeakable things to you while you’re wearing that outfit?” she murmured when Will came to sit down next to her, and a somewhat startled but pleased grin touched his mouth.

  “Probably, but I don’t mind.” He leaned over and whispered, “Later,” in her ear, and she chuckled, even as a warm thrill spread through her body.

  Highly inappropriate for a church hall, and yet at the same time, she was glad to know he could still arouse her, that the terrible knowledge she’d been cursed with hadn’t changed her that much. The night before, they hadn’t made love, as if he’d sensed she wasn’t quite ready to take such a step. Instead, they’d snuggled against one another, taking comfort in the other person’s warmth, but had done nothing more. At the time, she’d been so tired and, frankly, depressed about the whole situation that she wasn’t sure if she would ever feel desire for him again.

  But a new day had apparently brought a new outlook. It also probably helped that the weather had turned sunny and bright, the clouds of the day before gone without dropping anything more than a little drizzle. Rosemary felt much more like herself, despite these unfamiliar surroundings.

  “Don’t think I’m not going to take you up on that offer,” she replied in a low voice, then straightened a little and said much more loudly, “The hall looks great.”

  “Thank you,” he said, gray eyes dancing with amusement at the abrupt about-face. “There was a whole team in here yesterday getting everything decorated. We do this every year the Sunday before Halloween.”

  “You don’t have a Halloween party?”

  “No. Some years ago, the powers-that-be decided a harvest luncheon was more ‘wholesome.’ That was before I was even added to the staff here.” He paused and looked around, taking in the people laughing and talking while they stood in line at the buffet tables to heap their plates, the children at the “kiddie tables” off to one side. “Every once in a while, someone brings up the notion of trying a Halloween party instead, but this is sort of a tradition now, so we’ve stuck with it. There are usually plenty of other options for Halloween, so no one seems to mind too much.”

  “Like the ‘trunk-or-treat’ we have in the Village in Glendora,” Rosemary said, and Will tilted his head at her.

  “In all the shops downtown, you mean?”

  She nodded. “It’s always the day before Halloween, though, so it doesn’t interfere with the ‘real’ trick-or-treating —
or the big Halloween festival the city hosts at Finkbiner Park. That’s a few blocks over from Glendora Avenue. They have games and a costume contest and a haunted house.”

  “Sounds like Glendora is pretty into Halloween,” he commented.

  “I suppose you could say that.” A sudden thought struck her, and she added, “Why don’t you come over to the store and help hand out candy on Wednesday? It’s fun to see all the kids in their costumes — and you’ll get to see my nephew Tyler’s costume, too.”

  “That does sound like fun,” Will agreed. “I don’t have to dress up, do I?”

  “Well, it’s kind of traditional,” she said. “You could just wear what you have on, though.”

  At once, his hand smoothed the front of the black robe he wore. “This isn’t a costume, Rosemary,” he said, his tone more severe than usual.

  “Sorry,” she said at once, chiding herself for the gaffe. “It was just a thought. You could get a black satchel and a hat…do the whole Exorcist thing.”

  He shot her a pained look, and she couldn’t help grinning.

  “Sorry,” she said again. “I’m just teasing. No, you can wear regular clothes, but it would be better if you dressed up. The kids like that much better.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.” He reached over and touched her hand, then got up from the folding chair where he’d been sitting. “I have to go talk to a few people — why don’t you get yourself a plate, and I’ll come back here and join you in a few minutes?”

  This didn’t sound like a very enticing plan, but she knew he was working and that he couldn’t spend all his time babysitting her. “Sure,” she replied. “But make sure you get yourself something to eat, too. A growing boy like you needs his lunch.”

  That comment made him grin, and he squeezed her fingers before saying, “Be back soon.”

  He began to move through the crowd, pausing here and there to speak to a member of the congregation. Not schmoozing, though; Rosemary could tell he was carefully listening to all the people he stopped to talk to, that his expression was calm and sincere throughout. One pale, thin woman who looked like she could be in her late fifties, and who also looked quite ill, shadows under her eyes and a pinched look to her mouth, took him by the arm and held it while they spoke, her gaze fastened on him as though she was drowning and he’d somehow thrown her a lifeline. Will took more time with her than anyone else, Rosemary noticed, and as their conversation was ending, he pulled her to him and gave her a brief hug.

  Watching all this, Rosemary realized how much he cared about all these people, that if she was going to be with him, she would have to understand that the members of this congregation would have their own claims on his time. Yes, he’d taken a day away here and there as this crazy Project Demon Hunters mess demanded, but his duty to All Saints and the people who worshipped there had always remained in the background.

  And that was all right. Expecting anything less would be expecting Will to be someone he wasn’t, and she’d fallen in love with him partly because of his warm, generous nature, the way he was unlike any other man she’d ever known.

  As that thought passed through her mind, she smiled. She’d been reluctant to come here, but now she knew why Will had made the request. He’d needed her to see this, to watch and understand.

  She understood. And she loved him now more than ever.

  Because they’d finally had a chance to go grocery shopping after church that afternoon, Will and Rosemary were able to sit down to a real dinner for the first time since she’d come to stay at his house. Nothing terribly fancy, just a roasted pork tenderloin they got at Trader Joe’s and some wild rice and vegetables, but still, as he gazed at her next to him at the dining room table, he thought this was exactly what he’d been hoping for — Rosemary at his side, in this house, eating a meal the two of them had prepared together. They’d actually asked Audrey and Michael to come over, but their friends had demurred, saying they were going to the Bahooka to get their crab puff and piña colada fix while they were still here in Southern California.

  “What about Fred?” Will had asked then, and gotten a huff of a laugh from his friend.

  “Apparently, Fred has a hot date with Isabel McGuire,” Michael replied.

  That news startled him, but Will had to admit he wasn’t exactly best friends with Rosemary’s sister and therefore probably couldn’t be expected to know every intimate detail of her private life. And when he passed on the information to Rosemary, she’d looked surprised as well.

  “Seriously?” she asked as she reached for her glass of pinot noir.

  “That’s what Michael said,” Will replied. “I didn’t ask for details.’

  “Oh, I wouldn’t expect you to.” She sipped her wine, expression thoughtful. “It’s just that I know Isabel hasn’t even tried to date since her divorce was final. We’ve all encouraged her to get back out there, but she’s never seemed interested.”

  “I guess she was just waiting for the right computer hacker to come along,” he remarked, and Rosemary grinned.

  “Well, we girls do tend to like rebel types with long hair.”

  Will resisted the urge to lift a hand to his own short-cropped hair. “So, the exact opposite of me, is what you’re saying.”

  Her dimple flashed into life for a few seconds before she said, “No, that’s not what I said. I said we ‘tend’ to like. That suggests it’s not all of us. I’ve always been a sucker for the ‘still waters run deep’ kind of guy.”

  “Good to know,” he replied, then drank some of his own wine. “I’d hate to have to worry about you running off with some biker type.”

  “Fred’s a biker?” Rosemary asked, eyebrows lifting slightly.

  Will paged through his brain for the few tidbits Michael had let drop about Fred Peñasco and realized none of them had ever hinted that he owned a motorcycle. Which didn’t mean much. “I have no idea. I guess it was the tattoos and the ponytail that made me think it might be a possibility.”

  “I hope he is one,” Rosemary said emphatically. “A few rides on the back of a Harley might loosen Izzie up a bit.”

  That mental image made Will want to chuckle, but instead he settled for a small shake of his head as he lifted a piece of pork tenderloin to his lips and chewed thoughtfully. Again, he thought of how much he appreciated this — just the two of them sharing a meal, having a conversation that didn’t involve demons or psychic powers or long-lost fathers, whether angelic or demonic. Sometimes, the absolutely normal could be the most appealing thing of all.

  After dinner, they took the remaining wine out to the living room with them and drank it slowly as they snuggled on the couch. Before long, they’d set down their wine glasses and begun to kiss, the show they were watching on Netflix long forgotten.

  Her body felt so alive beneath him, so warm and wonderful. Will brushed a lock of hair away from her face and whispered, “Should we go to the bedroom?”

  “No,” she said at once. “I like it here. Do you mind?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t mind.”

  And then he was tasting her again, savoring the sweetness of wine on her lips, the richer sensation of her own flavor beneath the wine. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, and then it was on the floor, followed by her sweater, her jeans. Within a moment or two, they were both naked, and he took her nipple into his mouth, running his tongue over her pebbled flesh, listening to her moan at his touch. He shifted and could feel her moist womanhood rubbing against him, making him that much harder. But did she want it like this, so quick, hardly any foreplay at all?

  Apparently, she did, because she murmured, “Do it, Will. Fuck me.”

  He didn’t mind the rough language. In a way, he understood why she’d said it. She needed to reconnect — they both did, in the most basic and elemental way possible.

  Without stopping to think, he sank into her, felt her surround him and pull him in farther, her legs wrapping around his waist so she could drive him
that much deeper. A groan escaped his lips at the delicious sensation, at a joining that had been put off for too long.

  They stayed locked together for some time, until he could feel the orgasm rising in him — and in her as well, judging by the way her breaths came more quickly and her moans grew louder and louder. And then she cried out in earnest, and the climax surged in him, exploding through his body as he clung to her hands and rode it out. At last, he settled on top of her, feeling her heart pound against his.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, and he laid a gentle kiss against her temple.

  “I love you,” he said.

  “I love you, too.”

  She stared up at him with wide blue eyes. Was that a glint of tears he saw? He couldn’t tell for sure — and he knew he shouldn’t ask. Rosemary had needed this to come back to herself, to come back to him, and he understood that she wanted simply to accept this gift and move on.

  And that was what he would allow her to do. Both for herself…and for a future he hoped might now be within reach.

  Chapter 14

  Being back at the store felt strange — and yet good, too, a return to normality she’d been desperately craving. Just as it had felt so real, so ordinary, to get up and have breakfast with Will and then kiss each other before they went their separate ways for the day. Rosemary knew she would miss him, but at the same time, she was glad to have the store waiting for her. Celeste had called the day before to confirm that Rosemary had been coming in, and she’d assured her sister everything was fine and there shouldn’t be any further disruptions to their schedule.