Page 20 of Under an Oklahoma Sky

“You have no idea. If it’s not microwaveable or cold, then it’s not on my menu unless someone else makes it. But Maddie will enter a few pies and her five-alarm chili at the fair.”

“I’ll have to watch her make the chili. That was another one of Barbara’s specialties.”

After finishing their meal, they quickly washed the dishes and made sure the kitchen was spotless. Then Sage poured them each a cup of coffee she’d brewed while heating their dinner, and they headed out to the front porch. She sat on the two-person wooden swing and motioned for him to join her.

They sat in silence as Adam used his foot to rock them gently back and forth. It was one of her favorite things to do after everyone else had gone to sleep for the night. She could sit there, remember the good times with Mark, and cry over her loss without her children being any the wiser. Not that she always ended up in tears, but if she did, she didn’t have to worry about Matthew and Jenna seeing her upset.

The more time she spent with Adam, the more she liked him. She couldn’t imagine what prison had been like for him. Her uncle had been in and out of the local jail in her hometown because of his excessive drinking, but she’d never known anyone who’d stayed locked up for more than a day or two. There was so much about Adam’s life she didn’t know, and she wanted to understand him better.

“May I ask you something?”

He kept the swing moving. “Sure.”

She shifted on the seat to face him a little better and hoped he wouldn’t think she was judging him. “Why… um… Shane told me that you would have been found innocent if you had gone to trial. Why did you plead guilty?”

Chapter Seven

Adam took a deep breath and let it out slowly. How could he explain this so she would understand what he felt back then? What he still felt deep down in his soul?

“I… uh… well, for starters, I didn’t want the boy to testify. He was twelve at the time—old enough to be humiliated when he told a roomful of adults what had been done to him. And it might not have been just once. He could’ve been called before the grand jury and then, if they handed down an indictment, again at trial. I couldn’t do that to him. It was bad enough he’d be reliving it in therapy for years with only one psychologist in the room.”

He leaned over and placed his now-cold coffee on the wooden floor beside the swing. “Then I was dealing with my own guilt for not realizing what Brother Andre had been doing for years. The crime scene techs found evidence in his bedroom that led them to at least fifteen other young boys he’d assaulted—and that was only during the eight years he was with us in New York. He’d come from another monastery in California, so who knows how many kids he’d abused before that.” His shoulders sagged under the weight of the memories. “And finally… I took a life… one that wasn’t mine to take.”

Sage shook her head, her eyes narrowing. “But Shane said it was an accident. When you stopped him, he fell and hit his head. How is that your fault?”

He stopped the swing and abruptly stood. Crossing to the railing, he turned and leaned against it.

How could he make her understand how his initial confusion over what he’d walked in on had exploded into an anger unlike anything he’d ever experienced?

“Shane wasn’t there.” He ran a hand down his face, struggling to control his emotions. “I—I saw red, and all the martial arts and discipline training Harry had put Shane and me through went out the window. I lost control—all of it. In a rage, I threw Andre across the room, and when he came after me, I put everything I had into a punch. He wasn’t an experienced fighter. He was shorter than me and weighed less. It—it wouldn’t have taken much to hold him down and wait for the police. But that’s not what I did, Sage. I hit him—hard. When he went down, his head cracked against the corner of a wooden chest.”

He paused and swallowed hard. This was the first time he’d described what had happened in detail to anyone since the police interrogation. Shane had tried to tell him to shut up and wait for a lawyer, but Adam hadn’t been able to stop the confession from pouring out of him. Now, gazing into Sage’s eyes, he told her something he’d never told anyone—not even his brother.

“So help me God, if he’d gotten up, I would have hit him again and again, Sage. Either way, I honestly believe the result would have been the same. And in my mind… my heart… and my soul, that made me a murderer.”

He hadn’t realized tears were rolling down his face until she stood and brushed them away with her fingers. She pulled him into her arms and held him as he silently cried against her shoulder. Anguish poured out of him while she rubbed his back and spoke softly.

“Shh. Adam, it’s okay. You didn’t do it on purpose. Most people I’ve met in life would have reacted the same way, myself included. It just means you’re not perfect… it means you’re human. And isn’t that why Jesus died on that cross? Because all of us are human.”

In too much emotional pain to be embarrassed, he wrapped his arms around her waist and clung to her. Resting his head on her shoulder, he wasn’t sure how long they stood there, but as his tears waned, he realized he felt lighter than he had in years. Somehow, someway, this beautiful woman was helping him purge the guilt he’d carried for so long.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he lifted his head, and their gazes met. All he saw in her eyes was understanding, compassion, and… forgiveness—something he hadn’t sought from her, but she gave him willingly.

Her expression softened, and she was no longer staring into his eyes but, instead, at his mouth. Bending, he brushed his lips against hers and could swear she melted in his arms, so he did it again… and again. Each kiss lasted a little longer than the one before, and soon, everything else faded away.

Sage’s arms slid over his shoulders and around his neck, pulling him closer. For a moment, he simply let himself enjoy the unfamiliar sensation of holding her and being held in return. Then an insecurity he hadn’t expected crept in.

Am I doing this right? Is she enjoying it, or does she think I'm a lousy kisser?

Wow. A thirty-eight-year-old man shouldn’t have to worry about this stuff.

When Sage sighed against his lips and held him closer, and he figured he couldn’t be doing too badly. Turning, he rested her against the porch railing as the kiss continued. The faint citrus scent of her shampoo surrounded him, and he wondered how something as simple as kissing a woman could make him forget everything except the feel of her in his arms.

He craved her more than he’d ever craved anything else in his life. But it was more than physical attraction. It was as if she’d been born to be the only woman for him. Was Sage his chance to be whole again? His fate? His soulmate?

Around the back of the house, Benji barked at something—probably a rabbit—and just like that, the spell between them broke. They both froze, then slowly pulled apart, as if suddenly remembering they were standing on her front porch and had promised each other they would take things slowly.

He sighed, then whispered, “As much as I’d like to continue, I think we should stop. It’s been a long day, and tomorrow will be even longer. We both need to get some sleep before the troops return at eight.”