Page 83 of Prodigal Son

She took a deep inhale and pulled the chain. “Jesus Fucking Christ!” she screeched, as the icy water pelted her skin.

Her teeth chattered as she quickly soaped up the cloth. She stood outside of the cold water as she lathered her skin and only stepped under the stream to rinse as quickly as possible. Using the soap, she flipped her head and washed out her curls. The moment she was clean, she wrapped herself in a towel and shivered by the wood stove.

Was a hot water heater too much to request? No wonder why Cain didn’t mind the cold. He probably had nerve damage from years of ice cold showers.

With no hair products her hair would grow three times its regular size, so she tamed it into a braided bun and used a pin to hold it in place. Fresh, and frozen to the bone, she returned to the house, grateful to at least have her fur lined UGGs to keep her feet warm. She followed the sound of chatter to the kitchen and, once again, found her brother stuffing his face.

He snorted with laughter the moment he saw her. “Well, hello Sister Destiny!”

She scowled at his jeans and a Philadelphia Flyers sweatshirt. “Where did you get extra clothes?”

“I always keep spare clothes in my car. Never know when you’ll end up stranded or on an Amish farm. By the way, my car’s dead. Probably just the battery. After breakfast I’ll call Triple A.”

“You need Triple A to jump a battery for you? Don’t you have cables?”

“What am I going to hook them to, a horse? We’re in God’s country now.”

How could she forget? Her nipples were permanently frost bitten into points, chafing uncomfortably against a dress that felt stiffer than burlap. Still, she was glad to hear they couldn’t leave and hopeful she might get another day with Cain.

Her body thrummed with anticipation and ached in the most delicious way. If she shut her eyes, she could still picture Cain’s hands holding her, and his mouth teasing. She loved how he woke her up this morning. His—

“Look at the size of their sausage,” Vito blurted, forking a fat link on his fork.

“That’s what she said.”

Grace turned and frowned. “Who said something?”

Destiny blushed. “Nothing. It’s a joke.”

“I don’t get it.”

She waved away her confusion. “It wasn’t that funny. Can I help with anything?”

“No, no. You’re our guest.” Grace shuffled her back to the table, and Destiny lowered into a chair. A plate full of breakfast meats and eggs pushed in front of her.

Her mother would die if she saw her eating this way. Everything was smothered in butter and fried in fat. Apparently, cholesterol wasn’t a concern to these folks. How were they all so trim? As a matter of fact, everyone Destiny had seen on the farm appeared in great shape.

“Our lifestyle keeps us fit,” Grace said, as if reading her mind.

Destiny imagined what it would be like to live on a farm without television, music, computers, or cars. No blow dryers either. No wonder they all wore bonnets. Her family’s farm in Portugal had been recently renovated, but even in its most rustic state, they still had a generator and basic technologies.

Cain’s farm was beyond primitive. She couldn’t imagine going without so many amenities. Yet some part of her still saw the charm and lure of such a simplistic way of life. Eventually, Cain would have a wife who baked him bread and washed his clothes in some old-fashioned way. Destiny instantly wanted to punch the girl, whoever she might be.

Grace giggled. “Cain should be back any minute. He needed to visit the animals in the barn.”

She was an intuitive little thing.

Just then, Cain came through the front door, whistling and smiling with the morning sun bright at his back.

“Good morning.” His color looked better, and he appeared especially chipper. He must have had coffee, because he didn’t usually carry himself with such a pep in his step. “Vito, are you handy with an ax?”

Her brother looked up from his plate, his expression comical.

Destiny laughed. “The only ax Vito’s ever used is sold in the drug store cologne section.”

Vito narrowed his eyes. “I can use an ax.”

Cain clapped a strong hand on his shoulder. “Good. I’m taking out a tree stump on the other end of the property. I could use some company.”

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