FATHER: Men of the Cloth - Tristan (Forbidden Priest Romance 1) Read online

  Above all else guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.

  After raking his fingers through his hair and releasing a shaky breath, Father Cleary finally found the emotional wherewithal to speak. His voice was a hoarse whisper, vocal cords sounding like they’d gone through a paper shredder.

  “If you care anything about me at all…”

  six

  “What are you doing?”

  Alexandra Janacek was leaning against the doorjamb of her sister’s bedroom, arms folded, watching her slapping clothes into the suitcase that was emptied out only days earlier.

  With the heel of her palm, Kady swiped her nose to dash away another drip but otherwise kept going. “What does it look like?” She’d been crying steadily on and off for the past hour since fleeing the church and feared another jag coming on.

  Ignoring the opposition on Kady’s face, Alex entered the room. “Talk,” she said, scooching herself on top the corner desk.

  “Nothing to talk about.”

  “Something happen?”

  Crickets.

  “That’s a yes then.”

  Kady frowned and continued piling her possessions.

  “So what is it now? Oh wait, let me guess.” If Alex sounded less than sympathetic it was because Kady’s drama over the years had grown old, leaving her feeling… Well, less than sympathetic. “You ran into someone who knows you.”

  Stuffing a pair of shoes into a plastic bag she muttered, “Everyone knows everyone.”

  “That’s what makes small towns so much fun,” Alex quipped.

  For several minutes she watched and waited, hoping Kady would stop packing and start spilling. When she realized that wasn’t happening anytime soon, her eyes wandered the room as she patiently bided her time. Her sister’s childhood bedroom was now their mother’s domain but the walls were still swathed in the purple and pink striped wallpaper Kady had picked out when she was eleven.

  Alex’s lips curled in inspiration. “God, this wallpaper… Remember, Kady?”

  Kadence didn’t take the bait. Oh yes, she knew what her clever little sister was trying to do.

  Undeterred, Alex continued. “Remember how mom was trying real hard to convince you to go with something a little less… How’d she put it? Less circus-tent?” Before Alex could catch her expression Kady averted her face. “She actually believed those garish posies would lend your bedroom an air of sophistication.”

  In spite of herself Kady added, “The purple pansy pattern.”

  “Try saying that three times fast.”

  She wasn’t able to prevent her small smile. “It was pretty horrible, wasn’t it?”

  “Yeah, like someone vomited violets across endless rows of white X’s.”

  “I think they were supposed to replicate trellises.” Kady hadn’t realized she’d stopped packing.

  “Mom loved it, though, didn’t she? Insisted up and down that florals would always be in vogue. Stripes… not so much.”

  In an exaggerated imitation of their mother—who’d immigrated from the Czech Republic when she was fifteen (their father at ten)—Alex shook her finger at Kady and said in a heavily-accented, high-pitched voice, “Every decision one makes in life, no matter how small has consequences.” It was advice Kady was often remiss in following, and not just when it came to her wallpaper selection. “So think on it hard, Mishka. Think on it then decide wisely.”

  Myška. Meant “little mouse” in Czech, her parents’ pet name for her. Alex was Beruška. “Ladybug.” Kady hadn’t thought about it before but it described not only her diminutive size but also her pathetically meek personality of late.

  Reaching out to the nearest wall, she ran her index finger down a purple stripe. “Makes me wonder why she didn’t change it when she redecorated. Always assumed it’d be the first thing to go.”

  “You know why mom kept it.”

  She supposed she did.

  Alex staged a pout. “I never understood why you got to do your room any way you wanted while I wasn’t even allowed to paint mine my favorite color.”

  “Mom was right about that one. Chartreuse walls would’ve given you chronic nightmares.”

  “And how come you got the bigger room?”

  “Because I was older. FYI, brat… still am.”

  “Only by two years.”

  “Two years or two months, I’m always going to be your big sis.” Chronologically, anyway.

  The sisters were aware that in every other way it was Alex who was considered the more mature of the two. She was the responsible one, the grown-up one, the sibling who had it all together. She had a college degree, a job with a 401K, owned her own condo and drove a car that wasn’t held together with duct tape.

  Her “big sis” on the other hand was lucky to have two nickels to rub together. Alexandra had already done many of the things they’d talked about doing when they were kids, like running a marathon and writing a book.

  Kadence could boast living in more states, at least.

  “You ready to tell me what’s going on? You’ve only been here a few days.”

  As Alex resumed her interrogation, Kady returned to her packing. “You know I don’t stay longer than that.”

  “And Dad?”

  Kady froze. Dear God, her father. She’d forgotten about him. Actually forgot the reason that brought her home in the first place. He hadn’t crossed her mind even once today. Supporting him through his cancer was the reason she came back. Well wasn’t it?

  “Kady, you have to stay. If for no other reason than because Dad needs you. Whatever else may be going on with you, he should be your first and only priority right now.”

  She resented Alex for reminding her. “I know.” That she needed reminding at all made her feel even more like a sorry excuse for a daughter.

  “You were planning to stick around for—”

  “I said I know!”

  “You told us at least a month, maybe six weeks. That you’d see him through chemo.”

  “That was before.”

  “Before what?”

  “Nothing!”

  “This is ridiculous. You got here, like, five minutes ago and now you’re leaving? Just what the hell happened between now and this morning?”

  “Nothing, drop it. Time to return, that’s all.”

  “Kady…” Alex’s tone called bullshit.

  “I have a job, an apartment, a dog I need to get back to. Contrary to what everyone in this family believes, I do have a life, you know.” Hapless and hopeless as it was. “Besides, Dad doesn’t need me. Not really. He has you and Mom to look after him. I’d just be in the way.”

  “You can’t really believe that. God, why do you always do this? Just tell me what happened.”

  Refusing to even look at her, Kady began pulling clothes off hangers.

  Alex launched off the desk and grabbed her arm, spinning her around so they were face-to-face. “Stop that, goddamnit, and talk to me.”

  Shrugging off her hold, Kady shouted, “There’s nothing to talk about!” Then promptly burst into tears.

  “Shit.” Alex immediately pulled Kady against her. Holding her tight, she allowed her sister to sob unrestrained. “It’s all right, Kady. Everything’s going to be okay. Hush now, it’s all right.”

  After about fifteen minutes, when there wasn’t a tear left in her ducts, Kady’s crying finally hiccupped to a halt. Embarrassed for being comforted like an infant by her own baby sister, she pulled away to compose herself.

  “Able to tell me about it now?” Alex gently prodded.

  There was an air mattress in the far corner of the room that served as Kady’s makeshift bed. She flopped down on it and shoved her hands between her knees. Rocking back and forth like that the twenty-nine-year old woman looked as small and vulnerable as a two-year old child.

  “I went to see Tristan this morning.”

  Her sister inhaled a breath.

  “At Saint Ben’s… while he was in the middle
of hearing confession… I snuck inside the booth… pretended to be a penitent.”

  Alex exhaled on a groan. “Aw, sweetie…” Sitting down beside her, she curved an arm around Kady’s sagging shoulders and drew her in close. “Now why’d you go and do a stupid thing like that for?”

  The situation suddenly struck Kady as funny and she snorted a laugh along with a spray of snot. “’Cause I'm a dumbass?” she suggested, wiping her nose with the back of her sleeve.

  Alex gave her a sympathetic smile. “A glutton for punishment, maybe.”

  “Guess I should’ve made an appointment.”

  “Or maybe called first. Look, I’m glad you went to see him, but knowing Tristan he probably felt blindsided. So just how awful was he?”

  “Pretty,” she sniffled.

  “Not much has changed then. For a man of God he sure isn’t very forgiving, is he?”

  “‘My good opinion once lost, is lost forever.’”

  “Yeah, he’s definitely got that Mr. Darcy dick thing going.”

  “Alex, I know…I know you talk to him about me. That you’ve been keeping him informed over the years.”

  “He asks about you.”

  Kady pulled away from her. “That’s bullcrap. Tristan detests me, he as much as told me so.”

  “Kady, I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t interfere. It’s just that… I keep hoping he’ll come around. That he’ll eventually be receptive to… I thought if I kept him abreast of what you’ve been doing… I want him to keep thinking about you, that’s all.”

  “I’m sure he does. About ways to murder me.

  “Come on, Tristan doesn’t—”

  “My attempt at reconciliation this morning was an epic fail. He refused to listen to me. He didn’t even want to be in my presence. Acted like he was revolted by the very sight of me.”

  “If he won’t talk to you, well then you’ll just have to keep at him, won’t you.”

  “I told you, I tried.”

  “Well try harder, goddamnit!” Alex’s sudden and unexpected vehemence took her by surprise. “You’re so much stronger than this, I know it. I know you want your life back. Why won’t you fight for it? Stop playing the helpless victim for a change and do something about it.”

  Staring at her sister in wide-eyed disbelief, Kady made a strangled sound. Alex couldn’t have hurt her more if she’d struck her across the face. “I can’t believe you said that,” she choked.

  Stop playing the helpless victim. Was that how everyone saw her? Was that really what she’d been doing for the last eleven years? God, and here she thought she was a— She couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry. After all this time, she was finally finding out that martyr was a synonym for loser.

  When her sister took her hand, Kady tried yanking it away but Alex wouldn’t let her go. “What happened to you was wrong. So damn wrong. You have no idea how many times I was tempted to tell Tristan myself. No, Kady, relax, I haven’t said anything to anyone, I swear. Not even Mom. Against my better judgment I’ve kept my word. God knows it hasn’t been easy but I haven’t betrayed you.”

  “Sorry to have burdened you,” she returned sourly.

  “Of course I’m glad you confided in me. But I’m not the one you should’ve told. Carrying around this secret… That’s something I will never understand. The only thing I do know is that you can’t keep going on this way. You can’t, Kady. You can’t keep protecting him.”

  Dropping her head to her chest Kady wondered just which him she’d been protecting.

  “Okay. So things didn't go so well today. Maybe not how you envisioned it or planned it. That doesn’t mean you should give up. It’s past time he knew everything, all of it. Let the truth set you free. Allow it to set you both free. It’s clear you don’t give a damn about yourself—don’t look at me like that, you know it’s true. But if you care about Tristan you’ll find a way to get through to him.”

  Kady’s eyes glazed over as Alex’s words skipped across her lips. “If… I… care…”

  Tears began to well up as she thought back to that god-awful moment in the confessional when Tristan had said the same thing to her almost verbatim.

  “If you care anything about me at all…”

  “Oh, Tristan.”

  “Let me continue.”

  “If I care? If? I do care. I’ll always care. You know it. That hasn’t changed. That will never change. Don’t you know how much I still— God, I care, Tristan. Whatever else you may believe about me, believe that.”

  She could tell by his dazed expression that her impassioned declaration threw him a little off-kilter. His features softened and she thought she saw his eyes glisten. With tears? Wishful thinking. In all the years she’d known him she never witnessed Tristan cry. Not even when they broke up. He probably never shed a single tear over her.

  If he wasn’t feeling sentimental at the moment, he at least looked vulnerable, and for an instant Kady was reminded of the boy she had loved with all her heart—and to her detriment still did. The boy who used to love her just as desperately in return.

  The moment was lost as she watched him put the iron mask back into place. “You done?”

  She lowered her head and nodded.

  “Even if I were to forgive you…” Her head jerked up. “Which I do not,” he added swiftly, dousing the hope lighting her eyes. “I will never forget. Never. That’s the sad, regrettable truth but there you have it.”

  His brutal honesty cut Kady to the quick and she sensed that whatever he was about to say next wouldn’t bode well for her. Feeling more afraid than she’d ever been in her life she whispered, “Tristan?”

  “I will never be able to look at you. Could never talk to you or even be in the same room with you without remembering.” He seemed so worn-out all of a sudden, like he’d aged fifty years in the last fifty seconds. As he stabbed his fingers through his hair, a feeling of foreboding embraced her.

  “For better or for worse, I’m a priest now. I pledged my life to God. To the Church. You’re a temp—complication I don’t need. So if you care about me like you so passionately claim… and I mean really care about me, about my well-being, my happiness, my life… then you won’t fucking come back here again. Not ever.”

  The words were quietly spoken yet the impact was as shocking as a bucket of ice water thrown over her. It was so much worse than Kady ever could’ve imagined it. The man wasn’t just angry with her. He hated her.

  With a backward kick of his foot he shoved the cubicle door open. “Go on,” he instructed sharply. “Get out of here.”

  Kady winced, against the flood of incoming light or because of his harsh tone she didn’t know which.

  When she didn’t move he roared, “Now!”

  The savage look that accompanied his command was like a punch to her gut and she let out a small gasp as if pained. For a second she stood stunned, running her hand over her stomach checking to make sure she hadn’t sustained any actual physical damage. Then she sucked in a breath to replace the one she’d expelled… and took off.

  Shot past the priest like a human cannonball, bumping into him but not slowing her trajectory toward the church’s front doors. The echo of her heels striking the tile floor sounded like a metronome set at triple time as she flew down the center aisle.

  A handful of penitents waiting their turn in the confessional sat scattered among the pews as she passed them and their gaping stares in a blur. So focused was Kady on her goal of escape that she didn’t care she was providing more fodder for gossip.

  “There goes the reason Father Cleary became a priest, don’t cha know.”

  “Tsk, tsk. Such a waste.”

  “Broke his heart the little Jezebel did.”

  Reaching the exit at last, she burst through the double doors as if breaking the surface of water coming up for air. Momentarily blinded by sunlight, Kady threw up an arm to shield her eyes and kept running—across the parking lot, past her car, down the street and through the town
park until she thought her lungs would explode. Would’ve run all the way back to Oregon if she could have.

  “I won’t,” she shouted into the ether. “I won’t come back, Father Cleary. Not ever.”

  “Kady?” Alex’s hand on her shoulder brought her back.

  Swatting away her tears, Kady gave her sister a smile devoid of mirth. “You know, it’s funny. Tristan said the same thing to me this morning. Only the sentiment was much different. He said if I cared about him… I would just drop dead.”

  seven

  “She was half-dead when we found her.”

  Tristan shook his head, anger building.

  “She was cowering by the side of an abandoned crack shack, the industrial-grade chain ’round her neck so damn heavy she could barely lift her head.”

  “Jesus.”

  “Tethered to a stake with no food or water, can you imagine? Not sure how long she was left out there alone but the poor girl was so emaciated you could count every rib, every vertebra on her back. Amazing what a couple of weeks of steady eatin’ will do. She actually resembles a dog now ’stead of a bag of bones. One of the workers named her Moxie, for obvious reasons.”

  Tristan bent down to the scrawny one-eyed pitbull and gave her an affectionate scratch between her tattered ears. Expressing gratitude for the small kindness, the dog wagged its tail and timidly licked the back of his hand.

  The heartbreaking display furthered the priest’s outrage. “There’s a special place in hell for people who abuse animals.”

  The old man standing beside him gave a wry smile. “And a place in heaven reserved for animals that are abused?”

  One of the many things Bartholomew Hopper admired about the young cleric was how his personal convictions sometimes contradicted Church doctrine. While it was widely maintained animals don’t have immortal souls, Father Cleary believed the pearly gates were open to all God’s creatures—an unorthodox stance that earned him the animal advocate’s diehard respect.