Destiny Calls (9 page)

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Authors: Lydia Michaels

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Destiny Calls
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“Did you sleep well?” the nun asked.

What the hell? She quickly scrambled into a sitting position and was grateful she was still clothed. Had the man, Cain, dropped her off at some convent tucked in the mountains? She frowned. Why couldn’t she remember getting here? She looked down at the quilt that covered her lap. It was obvious by the craftsmanship and complex detail that it had been handmade. The nuns were probably blind from the intricate needlework.

Her hand went to her back. It felt fine from what she could tell through the clothing. She was wearing his shirt, so he hadn’t been a dream. She just couldn’t figure out what parts were real. Had she been drugged?

“Where am I?”

“On a farm.” The nun smiled and stood. She moved to the vase thing on the bureau and poured water into a glass. “Here you go.”

She took the glass and inspected it. She wasn’t sure what she should be looking for. It looked like water and felt lukewarm against her palm. Hesitantly she took a sip. She was parched. The nun turned and was then facing Destiny with a bowl of something hot. Soft ribbons of steam curled from the bowl into the air and she smelled something that immediately had her mouth watering.

“I made you chicken and dumpling soup. Is that all right?”

She was a little thrown by the hospitality she was receiving. “Yes, um, thank you, Sister.”

The nun grinned, and what was once a beautiful face was suddenly transformed into something stunning. Why would a girl of such perfection give her life away to a convent? If Destiny looked anything like the tall, lithe creature before her, people would have a hard time getting even a scrap of clothing on her body. They could forget her ever covering her hair and skin from wrists to ankles in some sort of nunnery.
Screw that
.

“You may call me Sister Larissa if you like.”

Destiny nodded and took a sip of the soup. She moaned in pleasure. “Stop it…”

“I am sorry?” Sister Larissa asked.

“Oh, nothing. I just meant this soup…it’s incredible.”

The young nun preened and folded her hands together, apparently taking great pleasure in watching Destiny eat. Surprisingly, for as starved as she was, her stomach could only handle half the serving, which sort of pissed Destiny off because those dumplings were apparently made from the same thing as orgasms.

“I’m going to need this recipe,” Destiny moaned as she wiped her mouth with a cloth napkin Sister Larissa handed her. “Thank you so much.”

“You are quite welcome.” She stood and collected the half-finished bowl. “When you’re ready to have more, just let me know. There is a whole pot left on the woodstove. I’ll be right back.”

The girl disappeared, and Destiny took a moment to survey the room. It was very simple. Light mint-green walls, dark green shades upon the windows that boasted deep inset sills. Turning, she saw hard wood floors, a braided mat, a dresser, and a wooden chair. Destiny supposed this would be what a convent looked like. She remembered some of the historical romances she read. She had gone through a pretty intense stage with Beatrice Small and recalled one romance about an innocent girl who was meant to be a nun, but the king gave her to a soldier. Wouldn’t that be nice?

As Sister Larissa came back into the room, Destiny put her silly thoughts aside. Funny, the young woman didn’t look like a traditional nun. Her habit was more like a bonnet and her robes were more like a dress and apron, almost prairie-like garb. Maybe she was in that stage Julie Andrews was in, just before she was shipped off to the Von Trapps.

“I imagine Cain should be back soon.”

The mention of the man surprised Destiny. She assumed he had just dumped her there. “Is there a phone I can use?”

Sister Larissa tilted her head curiously. “We do not use such things.” That couldn’t be right, Destiny thought.

There was a knock on the door, and another young girl peeked in. Another nun. “Pardon me,” the girl said then turned to Sister Larissa. “Lazarus just delivered a letter from mother. They have arrived and are in good health.”

Sister Larissa sighed. “Wonderful.” She then turned to Destiny and said, “Our mother and father have taken a trip. It is something that isn’t usually permitted, but I felt they needed to get away so I managed to convince the bishop.” She smirked as if she were recalling a secret.

“You two are sisters?” Destiny asked.

“Yes,” they both answered at the same time.

The sound of horse hooves in the distance formed a slow, meandering tempo as they drew near. Destiny rubbed her temple. She almost felt as though she were Rip Van Winkle, but had somehow woken up
back
in time.

She quickly looked for anything that told her she was still in the new millennium, but frowned when her personal items, that held proof of present day, sat beside her. Before she could ask for the date, a male voice called out.

“We are in here.” Larissa stood.

A man ducked into the room, and the air went out of it. There were just certain people who were imposing without speaking a single word. This tall man with dark black hair and onyx eyes was one of them.

“Destiny, this is Bishop King,” Larissa introduced as she smiled beside the now-scowling bishop.

“Hi,” Destiny replied shyly.

“Who is this?” the bishop demanded of the nuns.

Larissa’s sister took that moment to step out of the room. Sister Larissa on the other hand gave the bishop a reproving look, but Destiny noticed the slight tremble of her jaw. “Did Cain not find you?” she asked.

“Cain is back?”

“Yes. He’s just arrived. He said he needed to check on Annalise and then would visit with you.”

The bishop shook his head. “That male is forever causing problems. What’s her story?” he said, waving an impatient hand at Destiny.

She moved to stand from the bed. “If someone could just point me in the direction of my shoes, I’ll be on my way. Thank you for—”

“Please sit down, Destiny,” Sister Larissa asked with apparent distress at the idea of making her feel less than welcome. To the man she said in a harsher voice, “Be nice, Bishop.”

The man’s jaw tightened, and he leaned in close to Sister Larissa and whispered something in her ear. Destiny’s brow lowered. She didn’t know if she should tell the guy to back off or what. There was something so domineering about his body language toward the delicate-looking nun, she wasn’t sure if Sister Larissa was feeling bullied, threatened, or what. But then the nun sighed.

What the hell? The next thing she knew the bishop’s hands were holding the nun intimately and they were kissing. Destiny’s jaw slackened and, like a good little voyeur, she watched.

Forgetting that a bishop and a nun kissing was totally taboo, or perhaps because it
was
wrong, Destiny found herself unable to turn away. There was something so possessive about the way he held her. He touched her with a sense of ownership and entitlement that most modern women would find insulting, but Destiny, on the other hand, yearned for a man to possess her in such a way.

For years she had found men lacking. They were too politically correct, too sensitive, or too irresponsible. She had become cynical, firmly believing that there were no more real men left. Although the bishop seemed pretty damn real, he was a holy man, and odder still, he was making out with a nun. If that kind of thing was permitted, then Destiny could definitely understand the draw of convent living.

An emptiness took hold of her as she stared at them. A sense that she would never have anything close to what the two of them had. Her brows drew together as she reminded herself that nuns were supposed to be chaste as were bishops. She needed to get out of this place.

The man pulled back from the nun, and Destiny tried to look away, but couldn’t. Sister Larissa’s cheeks were flushed. Her lips were dark and slightly swollen. Her glazed crystalline eyes fluttered opened, and she stared up at the bishop.

“Come. We will visit your old room,” the man said shamelessly.

Destiny almost fell over. What kind of convent was this? Sister Larissa looked over at her and the bishop said, “The girl will be fine alone for a spell.”

This would be the perfect opportunity to find her shoes and get the hell out of Bizzaro World so she could find a phone. The man turned to her and sharply said, “You will not move from that bed until I grant you permission.”

Her body jerked as if some invisible cage was suddenly surrounding her. She wanted to get off the bed, but a mixture of fear and discomfort held her in place on the mattress. The bishop led Sister Larissa out of the room by her hand, and Destiny scowled. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to get off the bed now or not. She couldn’t think straight at all.

Chapter 7

 

Cain entered the house with Cybil still holding his hand. His sister, Gracie, glared at him, but then smiled at the child.

“Hello, Cybil. I was just coming to get you for our lesson.”

Cybil’s hand tightened on Cain’s, and she stepped closer. Gracie frowned.

“What’s this about?” Gracie asked, tilting her head to the side.

Cain assumed Grace poked into Cybil’s mind. Gracie made a clucking sound and lowered herself so that she was eye to eye with Cybil.

“Don’t you worry about that, Cybil dear. Brothers and sisters disagree sometimes, and that’s all this is, a disagreement.” She enunciated the last word and gave him a severe look. “Isn’t that right, Cain?”

Cain looked down at Cybil. She must have picked up on the tension between him and his siblings. None of his siblings were endearing themselves to him at the moment, but Cybil was only an innocent child and wouldn’t understand why. He couldn’t treat her as a pawn to hurt his siblings for hurting him. She shouldn’t be used in such a way.

He hoisted Cybil up onto his hip and said, “That’s right. Just like Dane gets on your nerves sometimes, Gracie can be extremely annoying.”

Cybil pursed her lips, and her small frame rattled slightly as she silently laughed at him. Gracie made a sound of exasperation.

“Don’t tell her that.”

“It is only the truth, sister.”

“Well, no one will argue that Dane is an annoyance, but I certainly am not. Come on, Cybil. There is work to do.”

Cain gave Gracie a suspicious look. “What kind of work?”

In a blasé tone, Gracie said, “I found a book on American Sign Language in town the last time Adam took me. I’m teaching Cybil so that she can communicate.”

He frowned when he noticed Cybil’s bored expression. He could tell these lessons weren’t a pleasure for her. “She isn’t deaf, Grace.”

“I am aware of that,” she said with superiority. “She’s mute.”

Cain scowled at her. He didn’t like Grace labeling Cybil with such terms. Cybil could talk, and she would when she was ready to. He didn’t like the idea of her, after already suffering so much, being forced to sit through tedious lessons. She should be free to play and explore the farm.

“Stop it, Cain,” Gracie said with a warning glance, and he realized he hadn’t been blocking his thoughts. “She needs to go to school with the other children and she cannot do so if she has no way of communicating.”

“Who says? She communicates just fine.”

Rather than answer him, his sister collected a book from the shelf and pulled out a chair at the table for Cybil. Reluctantly the child climbed down from Cain’s hip and took the seat.

“Now, let’s begin with the alphabet,” Gracie instructed as she held up a hand. Cybil mimicked the movement and Grace recited her letters. Their hands moved in different patterns forming different shapes as their fingers twisted and curled in unison. Intrigued, Cain took the other seat at the table.

“Good,” Gracie said, motioning with her fingers from her chin down to her palm. Her hands moved quickly as she slowly said, “Now can you tell me what month we are in?”

Cybil held up her left hand, made a circle with her right thumb and index finger, keeping the other fingers straight, and glided it up and over her left palm.

“Good,” Gracie signed again and then repeated the motion Cybil had just done. “It is February.”

“How long has she been practicing this?” he asked.

“For almost a month. She’s very good at it. It’s quite easy. Watch.” She turned to Cybil. Can you tell Cain something and see if he can interpret what you’re saying?”

Cybil seemed to think for a moment, and then her hands began moving rapidly. Cain had no idea what she was saying. He laughed nervously, and Gracie suggested she try to move a little slower.

Slowly, Cybil’s hands moved as if she were conducting an orchestra. Her fingers twisted with ease and her expression was tense as she focused on making him understand. At one point she screwed her lips to the side and looked at Gracie.

His sister read the child’s mind and then said, “Oh, like this.” Gracie slowly held up her hand, fanning her fingers wide and then folded down her middle and ring finger. Cybil faced him and repeated the gesture.

“What did she say?”

“She said she doesn’t want you to leave her again. She misses you and has bad dreams when you’re gone. She says she wants to go home, but doesn’t know where that is anymore. She says you’re home, you and Dane.” Grace signed through the monologue so that Cain saw the correlation between the words and signs. The girl’s confession affected Grace as much as it affected him.

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