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“It has been so long since you have been in the Lord’s house,” he said as he rose up and smiled at her warmly.
She shut the door behind her so as not to let out the heat, but instantly she felt the desire to take off her jacket, the warmth almost overbearing.
Still, Amy smiled brightly in the face of her discomfort, doing her absolute best to seem chipper and cheery.
“Father,” she said, walking towards him, bowing her head just so.
“It’s been too long,” she agreed.
“Oh, you sweet child,” he said as he reached out, and placed his hands upon her arms just beneath her shoulders. He rubbed her thoroughly there as he sized her up. “You’ve grown so much in so few years,” he stated, sucking his lower lip into his mouth. He was nearly as tall as Mr. Muran, and an imposing figure next to her. “I really wish I saw you more often, child.”
Amy looked up at him from beneath her dark lashes, her braid rested along her neck.
“Me too,” she said truthfully. It was her father’s decision, after all, that she not attend on Sundays, and she was, if nothing else, obedient.
“Mr. Muran told me you were expecting me?”
“Am I needed?” he said, his head tilted to the side as he sized her up once more. Then realization sank into his emerald eyes, and they widened. “Ahh, it’s you then, isn’t it?” he asked, eyes alight with some strange fascination. “Take off your jacket, and come sit, child,” he beckoned her, gesturing to the small sofa across from his seat, next to the fire.
She was relieved at the opportunity to remove the navy jacket, placing it on the coat rack next to the door. The heat had already flushed her cheeks as she went to the sofa, scooping up her too short skirt as she sat down.
“Thank you,” she murmured, her eyes deferred respectfully.
“Ohh, what a lovely girl,” Father Mackay said, touched by her little motions, and he reached out to lightly trace his fingers over her cheek. “So respectful. You were a prime member of our flock, you know that? It saddened me dearly to see you plucked from our congregation,” he said before sitting himself not in his former seat, but right next to her on the sofa. The rather large man an imposing figure beside her.
She half smiled, nodding at him, though she’d not say a word against her father. For all his sorrows, he cared most about her, and it was difficult for her to fathom having anyone better in her life.
“I’ve missed it,” she confessed, and raised her gaze for only a second. “It always relaxed me.”
“Ahhh, that pleases me to hear,” he said to her, his voice deep and yet smooth. He had a soothing voice, to be sure; it served him well in giving mass or simply preaching to the congregation.
“I was afraid I had driven you away,” he remarked with a playful wink, his two hands coming up to grasp her slender shoulders. He rubbed them gently at first, very carefully. “You look very tense now, so perhaps you needed more relaxing, is that the true reason you came?” he said in a playful tone of voice.
She let out a soft giggle, shaking her head as she looked up at him, all gentle sweetness.
She bit in her lower lip, drawing it into her mouth before she spoke. “I’m sure I wouldn’t mind that, Father, but I mostly came about the, uh, job. At the school?”
He tilted his head back, the Father’s mouth opening in a silent ‘ahhh’ as he continued to rub at her shoulders, moving the worn fabric of her town a little as he rubbed with those strong hands.
“You wish to help teach the little ones for the years ahead, is that it?” he said, a gentle smile upon his face as he smiled at her. “A big responsibility. Not just work wise, but morally.”
She nodded, looking up at him with such large, wide eyes.
“Oh, I know, Father,” she promised. “A huge responsibility. But you know I’ve always been passionate about school and learning. I think I could really help there.”
Her shoulders relaxed with the massage, a light sigh even punctuating her sentence.
The Father guided her back against the sofa, urging her gently into a more comfortable position as his hands worked upon her.
“Ah, I know you were always a clever girl, my dear,” he said to her softly, his voice quiet, almost a murmur. “But… it was the wishes of the church to have someone with… an active role in the congregation. A devout soul, to pass on some of the values of our Lord.”
He looked at her, his emerald eyes rolling down over her tightly wrapped form in a faux innocent manner.
She thought it a bit strange, the way his hands touched upon her, fingers working away at the tension in her back. But the headiness to his words, she’d never heard him use that tone while preaching, and it gave her pause.
“Father, once I’m self-sufficient and able to attend again, you know I will,” she vowed.
“Oh, I know it, child,” he said to her fondly, his voice so sincere and gentle. He even scooted over the sofa toward her a little closer, nestling in against her. “But the Lord asks that we make sacrifices for Him. That we take actions in His name to show our devotion,” he said, a sympathetic look upon his face. “What sort of leader for our flock would I be if I ignored that?”
