Divine Temptation (12 page)

Maggie passed the next morning in doldrums. At ten o’clock she called home from work to make sure the kids had gotten home safely and would be okay for the next few hours. By the time she returned to the townhouse, there was a message from Sharon asking if Maggie was available for a quick coffee one morning. She deleted the message and allowed the memory of it to fall by the wayside.

By the end of the week, her mood wasn’t so much low as
gone
. She was numb. For the first time, she didn’t mind that it was Carl’s weekend with the kids. It was perfect, actually—she wouldn’t have to force a passable mood on herself. She could stay in bed all weekend if she liked. Or drink endless bottles of wine in front of the TV. Or indulge in some combination of the two.

She didn’t wake until late Saturday morning when slices of bright light cut through the slats of her wooden blinds. Pushing herself up, she threw her hair into a sloppy ponytail and did some half-hearted cleaning in between sips of coffee. By mid-afternoon, she was considering a nap. Yawning, she glanced toward the flowers Evan had brought her. The tiger lilies were already limp and paling. As she pulled them out of the vase, spotted petals drifted down to the counter. “Told you,” she murmured.

After scooping them up and dropping them into the garbage disposal, she flipped the switch and lethargically watched the water swirl into the dark hole, the drone of the disposal’s gears drowning out all other sound. It wasn’t until after she’d turned off the switch and shut down the faucet that she felt him standing behind her. She hadn’t seen him since he’d brought the flowers.

“Is the kitchen going to be our new spot, then?” she asked flatly without even turning around. Now she knew something was seriously wrong. Behind her stood an angel sent from Heaven, and all she felt was irritation.

“I had another place in mind.”

“The bedroom? Perfect. That’s just where I was headed.” She wiped down the sink and turned, intending to avoid eye contact and scootch past him to seek the precious sanctuary of sleep, but he put himself directly in front of her.

“Not the bedroom.”

She looked up into his kind, earnest face and a bit of the irritation faded. “Where then?”

“You’ll have to drive there.”

“Out? No. Not gonna happen. I haven’t showered and I’m tired and…”

While she listed her excuses, his eyes scanned her and opened a little wider when he got to her unkempt hair. “You can put one of those—” His hand gestured in a circular motion over his head.

“Halos?” Maggie cut in.

His full mouth pulled up at one corner. “
Hat
was what I was going for.”

“Ah, that’ll be easier to manage. Even still, I don’t want to go out.”

“Please, Maggie. It’s a beautiful day and the fresh air will help you sleep better when you get back.”

She sighed. “Would you be coming with me?”

“I’ll meet you there.”

Curiosity overtook her annoyance. “Really? Will I be able to see you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, if I can, how will that work with other people around? Can they see you too?”

“You know that I don’t know. Besides, that won’t be a factor today. I don’t expect others to be around.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she studied his elegant, unflinching features before walking to the mudroom and grabbing a baseball hat from one of the coat hooks. “All right, let’s do this.”

He directed her to a country road she was familiar with and told her to head west until she saw a sign from him. He didn’t explain what the sign would be, just that she’d know it when she saw it. As she drove further and further from civilization and the neatly rowed farm crops on either side of the road gave way to wilder land, an albino deer sprang into the middle of the road. Maggie pressed hard on her breaks, halting a few yards from the animal. She’d never seen a purely white deer before. It stared at her for a moment through its blood-shot eyes and then dashed into the trees to the right.

“I take it that’s my cue,” she said aloud as she pulled over and parked. Stepping around her vehicle, she noticed a path into the woods and took it.

Clusters of trees opened to patches of tall grass mixed with willowy, flowering plants, a blend of prairie and forest. She followed the path through the alternating sun and shade until it forked. One direction led to an open area, while the other curved into a thick stand of trees. As she debated which way to go, a snowy-white rabbit leaped out from the grass and took off down the path toward the trees. Maggie smiled and took a step in the rabbit’s direction. Being completely removed from her normal life felt wonderful.

The trees stayed densely packed once she crossed their threshold, and the path inclined. After walking steadily uphill for a few minutes, she began to think she may have missed a clue and peered into the trees, searching for any sign of the rabbit. But the next white creature to greet her wasn’t on four legs: Evan stood several yards ahead of her at the point where the path leveled off.

“Ready for this?” he asked, his radiant face tilted down toward her. Something in his expression reminded her of Liam whenever he brought home a Mother’s Day craft from school that he was especially proud of.

She didn’t answer, but continued ascending, and was nearly to Evan before catching a glimpse of what he wanted to show her.

Beyond where he stood, the path veered to the left and outlined the rim of a small canyon. The wide depression’s sudden appearance in the serene setting was dramatic, but what made Maggie gasp were the brilliant blues and yellows that painted the canyon’s floor. Hundreds and thousands of tiny flowers joined together to create a canvas more stunning than anything she’d ever seen before. Sunlight shot through the huge opening in the trees, illuminating the petals and holding them in stark contrast to the shaded forest in which Maggie and Evan stood. She turned toward her companion to find his eyebrows raised in expectation.

“Do you prefer these to the flowers I brought you last time?” he asked.

Maggie didn’t even try to fight her grin, but that didn’t stop her words from being obstinate. “These’ll last longer, but they’re still going to shrivel and die away come autumn.”

“They’ll retreat for a while, seek solace in the dirt, but the following spring they’ll come back—stronger.”

Maggie didn’t respond. Instead she returned her gaze to the field of flowers at the base of the rocky walls and sank down to her knees as if to get closer to them. She twisted her baseball hat around on her head so the brim wouldn’t obscure any part of her view.

Evan kneeled next to her. “These plants have seen many harsh storms and survived brutal winters. They’re on their own down there. No gardener to tend them, to cover them during a frost or water them during a drought. Yet everything they need, they receive.”

Maggie continued staring at the bottom of the hollow, now thinking of its occupants as tiny soldiers, on their own. But they weren’t on their own. She understood that the Lord was their gardener. The moment after this thought entered her mind, she heard Evan’s voice close to her ear. “These are only plants, Maggie. You are stronger. And he loves you much more. He’ll take care of you.”

She nodded as tears blurred her eyes. “I know he will. But I’m not strong. My problems are stupid and small, yet look how I let them crush me. He’s pulled me up every time before this, but I…I don’t know why he bothers. And maybe this time he shouldn’t.”

“He will continue to offer his hand, but you don’t have to take it.”

Surprised at this response, Maggie turned to face the angel. She hadn’t accounted for his closeness, and the tip of her nose brushed against his. Before she could pull back, he cupped the side of her face, wrapping his fingers around to the back of her neck, holding her to him. His essence permeated her cells, but rather than the customary waves of tranquility, it was more like a rush of adrenaline. She lifted her slightly panicked eyes to his, but rather than look at her, he swiftly lifted his head and planted his warm, soft lips onto her forehead, pressing them there until his surge of energy calmed to something more familiar.

When he finally pulled his mouth away, he whispered, “I hope you’ll take it.”

He stood and disappeared, leaving Maggie kneeling on the forest floor at the edge of the canyon, wondering what had just happened. She turned her mind to God and said a prayer, during which she felt herself grab onto his outstretched hand with both of hers.

Chapter 9

“Y
OU
M
ISS
A
LL
T
HE
G
OOD
S
TUFF
on your afternoons off,” Brenda said before Maggie had even sat down at her desk the following Tuesday morning.

The office manager often made little digs like this during the summer months when Maggie only worked half days.

“There’s apparently been a visitation over at Somme Park.”

“Visitation?”

“Yep. I got a call from a director of the foundation yesterday afternoon about some strange vines growing up a pillar on one of those structure things. Supposedly they twist to form words, but not English ones. Latin, of all things.
Peccatoribus
up one pillar,
fructus ventris
up another, and
mater
on another.”

Maggie’s arms prickled. She wondered if this could be happening at her particular
tholos
. “I know
mater
is mother, but what are the others?”

“
Peccatoribus
means ‘sinners’;
fructus ventris
is ‘fruit of the womb.’ So people are freaking out, thinking this could be a visitation by the Virgin Mary.”

“What else are they saying?” Maggie slowly lowered into her chair. “I mean, is it just the vines, or have people noticed anything else?”

“Of course.” Brenda rolled her eyes. “A bunch of whackos are claiming to have felt, uhm…‘sensations’ was what I think she called it over the phone. It’s apparently causing a bit of a disturbance, people showing up with candles and small religious items, so the foundation’s board wanted Father Reardon to have a look around and give an official statement that it’s all just coincidence. They’re hoping that’ll help things return to normal.”

“Why don’t they just cut back the vines?”

“I asked the same thing. Apparently their horticulturists threw a fit. They wouldn’t cut them back all the way, only agreed to trim and reroute them. But get this—by the time the gardens reopened the next day, they’d reformed the same words! So who knows, maybe there’s something to it.”

Brenda shrugged as if she knew very damn well there was nothing to it, so Maggie didn’t feel inclined to inform her of her personal experience at the park. Evan had told her it was an evil force—no, Evan had
surmised
it was an evil force. He didn’t know why he’d been drawn to Somme Park that day any better than Maggie did. By Maggie’s estimation, it was entirely possible that the Blessed Mother’s vibes could’ve been what had pulled him into tangibility. Perhaps he wouldn’t recognize that level of divine summons here on Earth. She hoped for a chance to ask him about it soon but was never sure when he’d visit again and hadn’t seen him since the day at the canyon.

“So what happened? Did Father go?” Maggie asked.

Brenda glanced at the clock. “He’s probably on his way there right now.”

“Oh.” She wouldn’t know any more until he returned, so in the meantime, she’d focus on her work. Looking around her desk, she said, “He was going to put together some materials for me to type up for his presentation in two days, but I don’t see anything here. Did he leave them with you?”

“Nope.”

“Shoot. Well, I’ll see if I can find anything in his office.” When she went to his closed office door, it wouldn’t budge. “Since when does he lock his door?”

“Since Monsignor Sarto started digging into all his business. Speaking of whom, looks like we’re going to get a little break—check your e-mail. In the wee hours he sent a memo saying he’ll be spending a good deal of time visiting parishes at the far boundaries of the diocese for the next few weeks and will only be checking in here sporadically.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t want to stick around long enough to look into the Somme thing.”

“We sort of forgot to tell him about that. Father Tom’s request. But I don’t see how he could help anyhow—Monsignor’s more interested in evil spirits than good ones.”

“What do you mean?”

“I probably shouldn’t say…do you promise it won’t leave this office?”

“Brenda…” The women had shared countless off-the-record church tidbits, and Maggie wasn’t in the mood to play coy.

“He’s got training in exorcism.”

“Really? Has he ever actually performed any?”

“I assume so, but I don’t really know. Doesn’t seem to like to talk about it. I only know because some of his paperwork mistakenly landed on my desk one day. Maybe it’s only a hobby.”