“I, uh . . .” The muscles in my shoulders tensed almost painfully. It felt like the low ceiling and stuffed bookshelvesmoved in to trap me. How was I supposed to confess everything I’d done?
Father Cruz’s eyes softened. “You know you can tell me anything.”
“I had sex,” I blurted, then groaned inwardly.Way to go, man.
Holding my breath, I waited for his reaction all the while heat crept up my neck. His expression didn’t change one bit. I’d expected his brows to disappear in his hairline or a cough or a widening of his eyes, but . . . nothing.
“Did you hear what I said? I had sex. Several times.”
Now the corners of his mouth lifted. Smiling. He wassmiling. “Yes, I heard you the first time.”
I gaped at him. “Is that all you have to say?” I had committed one of the worst sins a monk—not to mention an aspiring priest—could do, yet he acted like I didn’t do the dishes. Had I missed something?
My mind raced, searching for a plausible explanation, then slowed. Oh man, please not.
“Did you . . . Did you see us?” I choked out, raking my memory for the moments Harley and I had been together. Had he seen us outside the guesthouse? Inside? In Serenity Lake?
Father Cruz leaned back in his chair. “I told you I used to be a cartel member before becoming a priest.”
Swallowing hard, I nodded. Couldn’t he just say yes or no?
Then again, I probably deserved to squirm.
“The leader had a short temper, and you didn’t want to be around him when he exploded. One time he shot one of our own. So I learned to read his expression and body language for the slightest of hints to know when to make myself scarce.”
“So you can read me like a book.”
He gave a nod.
“You knew the entire time?”
Another affirmative.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because I trusted you would come to me.”
My gut contracted so hard I was ready to throw up. “I wanted to. Sooner, I mean. It wasn’t just physical. I love her—”
Father Cruz silenced me with a raised hand. “I’m not condemning you, Brother Samuel. Just because we’re monks and priests doesn’t mean we won’t fall in love or that we’re free of sin. Only Jesus was.” He sighed. “I didn’t like the idea of you looking after our guest, but the Lord told me to trust you with her.”
I dipped my chin to my chest and remained in that position for a moment. Which meant what? That God had tested me? He didn’t tempt us, I knew that much.
Whatever His reason for telling Father Cruz to trust me with Harley, I had failed. Miserably.
The old desk phone—our only connection to the outside world—rang, but Father Cruz didn’t pick up. “You need to look at the root cause behind your actions. First of all, as a monk, you deny yourself all the worldly pleasures and comforts, and seek them in Jesus instead. This rigorous lifestyle isn’t for everyone and can leave a conscious or subconscious lack.”
I wanted to protest that I was very well made for this lifestyle, but was I? Not if I considered the decisions I’d made over the past weeks.
“Then we have to bring your upbringing into the equation. It left you depraved of love. Women have a lot of love to offer—they’re made to nurture.”
Yes, Harley had made me feel respected and . . . taken care of. “That’s no excuse for my behavior.”
Father Cruz shook his head. “It’s not, but I want you to understand yourself better. The way I know you, you want to doeverything right, and if you don’t, your mistakes haunt you for the rest of your life.”
Nailed that one.
The phone rang again.
