Page 33 of Almost Priest

Sam smiled, but regretted the moment she let down her guard. One of those heavily jeweled, knotty knuckles came up to her cheek and pinched so hard tears immediately filled Sam’s eyes.

“You be sure to a’be good to my Braydon. He needs a fine woman to look after him. Are you planning on a’marrying him, dear? Oh, it will be a fine Catholic wedding from the looks of you!”

“She’s not marrying Braydon,” Morai corrected. “You’re about as sharp as a bloody ball.”

Sam wasn’t sure what to make of that comment. Did everyone get that she was barely invested in her relationship with Braydon?

Her concern for herself escalated abruptly when Italian Mary turned her dark eyes on her.

“Why don’t you a’want to marry my Braydon?” she asked accusingly.

“Um…”

“You think you can do better than him?”

“No, I just…we…”

“Oh, leave her alone,” Colleen snapped, physically turning her mother-in-law back to the stove and shoving the ladle into her hand. “Stir the gravy.”

Morai whispered, “Don’t mind her, lassie. She’s as thick as manure, but only half as useful. She doesn’t understand shite about the way of things. Now come on and peel those last three apples and I’ll show ye how to make a pie that men will be fallin’ over ye fer.”

The rest of the afternoon passed at turtle speed, Samantha afraid to breathe within Italian Mary’s earshot. When the boys started filing in for dinner she snuck away to her room for a few moments’ peace.

Shutting her door she went straight to the bathroom. When she shut off the faucet after washing her hands she heard something that made her still. It was Colin’s deep voice. Slowly, she approached the adjoining bathroom door and listened.

“Of course,” Colin said then was quiet for a moment.

Was someone with him? She heard nothing but an echoless silence on the other end of the door.

He cleared his throat. “I don’t want to wait. That’ll only confuse me more. It’s already June. I have less than two months. The sooner I take my vows the sooner I’ll be feeling more like myself again. I’m sure it’s just anxiety as time is closing in.”

He was quiet for a moment then, “It has nothing to do with that. Yes, I’m sure. How would her being here matter anyway? She’s here for my brother.”

He seemed to finish the end of his statement with a tinge of hostility and—dear God, was he talking about her?

“I spent all morning in the chapel and then ran six miles. This anxiety needs to be dispersed so I can put myself back to right and focus on what I’m here to do. I despise feeling so distracted. I’m not normally like this.”

He seemed to be listening to the person on the other line. She had no doubt at this point that he was speaking on the phone. Was she the cause of his distraction?

“Yes. I know that. I know what you had with Amelia and that you’d choose another day with her in a heartbeat over a lifetime dedicated to God, but I’m not you, Father Tucker. I’ve never cared about those things. Whatever this is, it’ll pass and it’s wrong of me to make her think any different. I think it’s best that I return.”

Sam placed a hand on her chest as chills raced up her spine.

“It should be my choice when I return. I understand I can’t take my vows until August first, but I see no reason why I have to be forced out of my home.”

Was he planning on leaving his family because of her presence? She felt like an intruder in the worse way.

“I know this is my home, but Saint Peter’s is my home too. If I wish to return early I should be permitted to do so.”

Samantha couldn’t listen to another word. She blinked back tears and swallowed against the hard lump forming in her throat.

Quickly, she went to the opposite door and made the bed and began tossing her clothes onto the covers. She needed to leave. There was no way she could be held responsible for ruining Colin’s last stay with his family before he became a priest.

She should’ve never come here. It was the idea of returning to her parents’ empty home that had her sniffling and wiping back tears. What was wrong with her?

Going to the closet she saw someone moved her suitcase to the top shelf. She stood on her toes and tried to latch onto the handle with her fingertips. When she had a mediocre grip she yanked and the case came tumbling down with a thud.

What she wasn’t prepared for was the heavy trophy that followed and slammed into her shoulder then landed on the floor with a bang.

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