Beyond the Pine (13 page)

Asher

With a nod of gratitude, I leave the infirmary and head toward Josiah’s cabin, the pull to walk straight to Riley’s door almost more than I can handle. I hadn’t had time to tell her I’d be sleeping here and it’s late. However, the invisible ties I have to her still pull at my chest, urging me to go to her.

She’s just a few steps away from me, just on the other side of the small door I can see by the light of the moon.

It would only take a moment, a few quick movements and she...

“Stop it,” I admonish myself in the dark, cutting my thoughts short.

Shaking my head clear as best I can, I push my way through the front door, the musty scent of age and abandonment invading my senses. With the help of the moonlight pushing through the aged curtains hanging loosely from the front window, I manage to find a small oil lantern sitting on the ledge. I light it, illuminating the small forgotten space and with it, take my first glimpse of my temporary accommodations.

It somehow looks exactly like I’d imagined, yet a complete contradiction to the man who calls these walls home.

Instead of a couch, there are two chairs, both worn with use but in good condition despite the dust that’s settled over the dark fabric. The front room is nearly empty, consisting only of the chairs and a small table used for holding odds and ends. The kitchen, surprisingly clean for the fact it’s been sitting idle for months, holds very little aside from two small plants, both of which are somehow still thriving.

I stop to read the familiar scripture, handstitched carefully over the top of the small metal basin.

‘As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.’

-Joshua 24:15

The vibrant hue of each thread has faded with age, but it’s obvious much care was put into its making. The small, handmade wooden frame in which it resides is stained with time, the small nails causing tiny splinters to spring from its edges. I trace one corner with my thumb, slowly shaking my head clear and moving to explore the rest of the small cottage.

I’d planned to sleep on the couch, but since there isn’t one, I release a sigh and head toward the only bedroom in the small cabin. As I push the door open, I’m surprised to find this room so different from the others.

In addition to the old full sized bed beneath the window, there’s a huge bookshelf that covers the far wall. Exhausted, I toss my bag on the edge of the bed, my shirt going with it before I gravitate toward the shelf, studying the dusty spines in the dark.

I only make it a couple shelves in before a shimmer of light from the lantern catches my eye, pulling my attention to the corner of the room.

Turning, I see a small brass frame sitting on a table. Inside, there’s a picture of a much younger Josiah standing with a petite blonde, both smiling wide as they lean against the side a shiny black Mustang. At the bottom, the delicate, faded script of a woman’s hand catches my eye.

Joe and Caroline, State Fair 1965

I lift the small tarnished frame for a closer look, a smirk playing on my lips at the sight of my old friend looking so in line with the times. His arm falls over her shoulder, pulling her close as his mouth stretches wide with a proud smile. Her arms wrap around his waist as she looks up at him, the adoration in her smile impossible to miss. The feeling coursing through my chest is selfish and bittersweet, so I set the frame down after another quick look. Once it’s back in place, I turn to face the bed, my boot catching on the heavy table it resides on and causing it to shake, loudly knocking its contents onto the hardwood floor.

“Fuck,” I mutter, hating the anxious feeling inside my chest.

I bend to pick up my mess, lifting the frame and the heavy book I knocked over and lying them on the bed beside me. The small cloth that had been covering the table is knocked sideways and I shift it back into place as best I can, feeling something uneven on the edge that makes me curious. Lifting the thin linen, I feel my lips turn up at the edges almost instantly.

“Josiah, you sneaky old son of a bitch,” I whisper, chuckling to myself as I brush my fingers over the old phonograph.

I lift the lid, uncovering the still pristine player and admire its beauty for just a moment before I begin sliding one of the tucked away 78’s from its sleeve and setting it on the turntable. Winding it carefully, I set the arm in place and after a moment, the low sound of a melody I don’t know fills the small space.

I sit at the edge of the mattress, my first taste of music in over a month filling my senses and immediately soothing my tired soul.

I don’t recognize the jazz singers voice filling the room, but I still listen until the record slows, silently wishing I could share it with Riley. My mind wonders if she’s ever heard anything like this and after a moment, the heavy feeling returns. Once the music ceases, I slowly let my eyelids flutter open, releasing a low sigh before reaching over to move the arm back to its resting spot.

I don’t know much about this place, but something tells me this was covered for a reason. I move to cover it once more, promising I’ll return to it as soon as possible when movement catches my attention.

“Asher?” she starts, her eyes wide with disbelief as she grips the small pail in her raised hand. “What are you doing here?”

Asher

“There isn’t much by way of real estate around here,” I smirk, taking in the threadbare nightgown she’s wrapped in, jealous of the water droplets that still cling to her skin. “Josiah said I could crash here. What are you planning to do with that pail?”

“I heard a crash,” she explains, blushing slightly as she lowers her arm. “I thought you might be a raccoon,”

“If I’d been a raccoon, what would have done with that bucket?”

“I’m not sure. I panicked and maybe didn’t think things through,” she admits. Her words have me wondering if she’s referring to the pail or to me, her eyes grazing over my bare chest as she takes a step further into the bedroom, studying the items I’d placed onto the mattress. “What is all of this?”

I watch her take another step closer, her sweet scent invading my senses as she traces the edge of the frame still resting on the mattress. Her lips curve upward, the smile on them managing to heal my tired soul in ways nothing else has ever been able to. Her long dark hair is pulled to the side, resting over her shoulder in a simple braid that’s damp at its base. She’s standing in front of me, close enough that the soft cotton she’s wearing brushes against my stomach and instantly, I’m craving her like an addict. However, my mind is still locked between a place of arousal and wondering what she meant.

“1965… this must have been taken just before they came to the farm,” she whispers, tracing her fingertips over the image. “I can’t believe how different they look. They’re beautiful.”

“Seems to be a lot of that going around tonight.” I whisper against her forehead, glancing down to watch her take it in, my hand naturally falling on her waist.

“Thank you,” she replies shyly, my words putting the blush back into her cheeks, her green eyes wandering to mine shyly before she returns the picture to the soft blanket covering the bed. “Asher, why didn’t you tell me you’d be staying here?”

“I meant to,” I start, holding her eyes as I gently brush the pad of my thumb over her waist. “This morning I’d planned to tell you I’d be here, but it kinda got lost along the way somehow.”

She nods, not saying anything before her eyes fall back on mine.

“Can I ask you something?” I say low, my fingers gently moving a strand of hair away from her face, pulling a nod from her. “When you said you didn’t think things through, did you mean more than coming over here?”

She stares up at me for a long moment, understanding tainting her features but the words somehow getting stuck in her throat. I’ve never been a very patient man, but for the first time in thirty-two years, that seems to be changing thanks for Riley. I wait for her to find her voice, but she doesn’t make me wait much longer.

“I wish there was a way for you to sneak into my skin,” she sighs. “A way for you to hear firsthand how you’ve managed to take over every single thought inside my head so you’d never have to ask me things like that again.”

“I don’t like having to ask,” I admit. “It’s just hard to imagine someone like you ever wanting a man like me, Riley. A man who’s done the things I’ve done, lived the life I’ve lived,” I trail off, slowly shaking my head as I recount my every mistake, every downfall that makes me so undeserving of the girl I’m holding in my arms. “I’m not a good man, Riley. You deserve so much more than what I have to give and I should just walk away, let you live your life, but I can’t.”

“Well, I don’t want you to,” she whispers, pulling herself closer to me, resting her cheek on my bare chest and wrapping her arms around my waist. “I don’t know what you did before that makes you think you’re so unworthy of my love, my affection, Asher,” she sighs. “Truth is, what happened before you came to me is between you and the Lord, it’s none of my concern. The way I see it though is if He can forgive you, you should be able to forgive yourself.”

“I don’t care about self-forgiveness, Riley,” I confess, kissing her hair. “I don’t even care about how the rest of the world sees me, just you.”

She takes a step back, studying my face before reaching up and tracing my jaw, her fingertips getting lost in the thick hair on my chin as she finds my eyes.

“I don’t see the things you did before you came to me, Asher,” she whispers. “I only see someone I love, someone I can’t bear to live without.”

“For right now, you don’t have to, sugar.”

I bend to taste her lips, my chest churning with a mixture of desire and our bittersweet truth. What starts as something innocent enough quickly escalates into something more. I slip my hands under her gown, the still damp cotton riding up her legs quickly as I raise it to her waist, sliding my hands under her thin cotton panties. The globes of her ass fill my palms, causing my arousal to raise to new heights as I move my lips down her neck, tasting her skin.

“I want you, sugar,” I growl into her neck, the whimper leaving her throat doing crazy things to my mind. “Give yourself to me, Riley.”

“Yes,” she gasps, her eyes fluttering slightly as my lips reach her shoulder, one hand still pushed inside her panties as the other moves to grip the back of her hair.

I press my lips to hers once more, running my tongue against hers and swallowing the quiet moan that’s working through her chest.

My hands move to her legs, raising her into my arms before heading toward the bed. She wraps her arm around my neck, the other clinging to my chest for safety for a moment before she pulls away.

“Asher wait,” she manages, shaking her head clear before glancing down at the mattress she’s hovering over. “Not here.”

“Why?”

“It’s their marital bed,” she whispers, biting down on her lip in uncertainty. “I wouldn’t feel right about it.”

“Okay,” I sigh. “Do you want to go next door?”

“We can’t,” she shakes her head. “The moon is full, we might be seen.”

Looking around the room, I lift my cut from the edge of the mattress and drop it onto the wooden floor.

“Better?”

“Yes,” she nods, tightening her grip on me as I lower her to the floor, spreading her out in front of me.

I unbuckle my belt, lowering my jeans just enough to free myself before pushing into her, the need for her outweighing my ability to go slow. The sensation of me filling her causes her breathing to stagger, a low huff leaving her chest before I bend to take her lips.

I cup her chin, positioning my hand over her shoulder to hold her in place as I begin to move inside her. As she grows wetter around me, my kiss becomes deeper, our hot tongues tangling together as our chests heave in time with each other.

I know I won’t last long, my need for her overtaking everything else. I release her lips, turning her face to suck and nip at the skin on her neck as she pants beneath me. Lifting her gown, I lap at her nipples, the feel of my tongue on her as I push faster causing her to arch her back.

“Asher,” she gasps, pulling me further in. “Asher, please...”

“What do you want, sugar?” I hum around her, savoring in the feel of her beginning to clench around me. “Say it, Riley. Tell me what you want.”

“Make me yours,” she whispers, her fingers digging into my waist. “I want to belong to you.”

“You are, sugar,” I husk against her mouth, my tongue darting out to taste her lips. “You do.”

             
Riley

After sneaking back to my cabin, I fell into such a delicious slumber, waking up was nearly impossible the next morning. As heartbroken as I feel knowing Asher and I could never really be, there was something about being with him that offered me hope.

Not hope that we’d find a way to make our affair into something more, somewhere deep inside I never really believed that would happen. However, there was hope that when everything was said and done, I’d be able to close my eyes, still feel him on my skin, taste him on my lips.

There was hope inside me that even though we’d never know what the future could hold for us, I’d at least felt earth shattering love at least once in my life.

It was bittersweet, but it was all I had.

Most people beyond the farm would never understand our way of life here. Truth is, some of it didn’t even make much sense to me if I really thought hard about it. However, it’s all I’ve ever known. It’s not a life of convention by many people’s standards, but that didn’t make it wrong, did it?

My mind is consumed with thoughts of Asher, but today is my first day back at the chapel, so I knew I’d need to tuck them away somewhere safe inside my chest where no one could ever find them. I knew the last thing I needed today was the sweet distraction that only Asher allowed, no matter how badly I craved it.

I dressed and prepared to make my way to the chapel, my heart falling as I stop on my porch. I risk a glance at Josiah’s door and find it closed, no signs of Asher.

I let my mind wander as I linger on the steps, thoughts of his lips tasting my flesh invading my mind once more.

“Sister Riley?”

The familiar voice breaks through my sinful thoughts, making my cheeks heat that much more.

“Good morning, Brother Tobias,” I manage, clearing my throat and moving my eyes away from Josiah’s door to face him. “How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you,” he starts, taking a slow step toward me. “Are you feeling alright? Your face looks flushed.”

“I’m fine,” I start, shaking my head in silent embarrassment. “I just didn’t sleep well last night so I’m a little tired.”

“Oh,” he nods in understanding as I pull my door shut.

“I hate to cut you short, but I’m running a little late this morning,” I explain, gathering the small bag containing my lunch and clutching my weathered Bible. “I don’t want to keep Reverend Tucker waiting.”

“If it’s okay, I thought I’d walk with you this morning?” he offers. “I know all of this is happening pretty quickly,” he sighs. “I thought in light of recent events, it might be best for us to talk.”

“Oh?” I say, my nerves getting the better of me. “Talk about what?”

“Nothing in particular,” he says, his eyes narrowing slightly at my suspicious behavior. “I just figure if we’re to be married...”

“I understand,” I nod, relief filling my chest as I join him at the bottom of the steps leading to my porch. “What would you like to...”

“Sister Riley, I’m sorry,” he cuts me off in a low voice, gently gripping my elbow and turning me to face him.

“For what?”

“My father told me about your concerns. Well, not so much told me as I overheard,” he admits sheepishly.

“Tobias, if that’s true, then perhaps I should be the one apologizing,” I start. “I hope you know I didn’t mean any offense. You’re a good man, I just...”

“I know,” he nods, his eyes soft and understanding. “I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry. I wish things could be different for both of us,” he admits, swallowing hard as his eyes wander behind me.

Glancing over my shoulder, I see Sara, my best friend, leaning down to hug her brothers before she stands to see us standing in the square. She gives us a small smile stained with regret and I know...

Just like Asher is my what might have been, Sara is his.

“The path ahead might not be one we’d have taken for ourselves had we been given the choice,” he whispers, giving me a sad smile. “But you needn’t worry. I promise I’ll be a good husband to you, Riley. I guess I just wanted to tell you that.”

Unsure of what else to say, I simply nod, mumbling my thanks at his words before turning toward the chapel, it’s looming shadow a reminder of my obligations here. Tobias walks me to its door, the two of us making absent-minded conversation in an attempt to lighten the heavy start to our discussion. It’s no use, though. Long after he ushers me into the entrance, wishing me well, I know I’ll still be stuck on his words.

The door to the Reverend’s office is closed, so after saying a quick prayer and lighting a candle for my mother, I gently knock, waiting patiently. A moment later, he pulls the door open a crack, looking down at me with no expression.

“Sister Riley, I’m in counsel this morning,” he starts, giving me an apologetic smile. “I’d meant to tell you yesterday after service that I would be.”

“Oh...” I start, unable to think of anything else to say.

“I’ll be done in just a moment. Would you mind tidying up the chapel and I’ll be right with you?”

“Of course,” I smile, nodding politely.

“Thank you,” he nods, gently pushing the door closed.

I busy myself within the chapel, the already pristine area not really needing my attention, but still grateful for the distraction. Within a few short moments, I hear his door creak open once more, the gentle sound of sniffing coming from the young member leaving his office.

“I’ll see you on Friday, Sister,” he calls after her, pulling a nod from her as she leaves quietly.

Once the chapel door has closed, he redirects his attention to me, giving me another smile.

“Good morning, Sister Riley,” Reverend Tucker says, making his way back over to me. “I apologize for the delay. It’s nice to have you back.”

“Thank you, Reverend,” I nod, the small smile on my lips anything but genuine. “How are you this day?”

“I’m blessed,” he says low, carefully lighting a candle before watching me do the same. “Come. Let us use this day for The Lord’s work.”

Nodding my agreement, I follow him into his office where his typically pristine desk is overflowing with documents. Overwhelmed by the difference from the last time I was in here, I find myself coming to a slow stop.

“Don’t be shy, Sister,” he starts, releasing a sigh and gesturing toward my usual spot at the smaller desk in the corner. “As you can see, we have a full day ahead. Take a seat and dive in.”

“Yes, Sir,” I nod, setting my things down and moving back toward him. “Anywhere you’d like me to start first?”

“Inventory,” he nods. “We have a few trips into town for supplies in the coming months and we need to have a good idea of what we have before we can determine what we’ll most need.”

He hands me a large folder labeled
Infirmary
, the contents nearly spilling out.

“Since you’re most familiar with the infirmary, you can start there. I need you to write out an itemized list of what we have so I can go in quickly at the end of the week and compile another list of what we don’t,” he explains. “Once you’re done there, we’ll get started on the schoolhouse. We need to get those done today because it will likely take us both all day tomorrow to go through the needs of the crops on the east end.”

“Yes, Reverend,” I nod, swallowing hard over the thought of the task at hand as I straighten my spine. I’ve never been afraid of rolling up my sleeves, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t feeling intimidated by the mountain of work lying ahead. “I’ll do my best to have this to you by lunch.”

“That would be a blessing,” he nods, giving me a small smile of gratitude. “Riley, I know these past weeks have been a trial for you, but I want you to know that I’m happy to have you back. I’ve long believed you to be an integral part of our community and your resilience is a testament to your faith.”

“Thank you, Reverend.”

I busy myself with work, surprised at the speed in which I’m able to work through the large stack. By lunchtime, I’m nearing the end of the file, only a few pages remaining when my neck and shoulders are aching with the need to be stretched. Lifting my arms above my head, I clasp my fingers together, savoring in the relief it brings to my muscles. Stifling a yawn, I lower my arms, catching the corner of the desk and causing a few of the papers to slip from the surface.

Bending to retrieve them, I apologize quietly for the distraction and stand at the edge of The Reverend’s desk, cheeks red with embarrassment until I realize I’d been so busy, I hadn’t even realized I was alone. Relief fills me and I’m about to return to my own desk when I glance down, seeing another smaller file on his desk labeled
Infirmary
.

“I must have missed one,” I sigh, lifting it from his desk, silently hoping the corrections to my current work won’t delay me much further.

Lifting the front cover of the second folder to scan its contents, I quickly understand why he hadn’t included it with the first. Reverend Tucker never intended for me, for
anyone
, to see this file.

It isn’t intended for supplies at the infirmary. In fact, this file isn’t for the infirmary at all, it’s exclusive to a patient we hadn’t seen there in months.

The Reverend’s wife.