“All of men’s work is cursed. No man has it easier than another.”
“You cannot know that. You’ve never been a sheriff. The hours, the things he sees, it would make any man cold.” Mia turned her back to him, wiping at her eyes with her fingers.
“I can’t imagine any man could be cold to you.”
Mia did not turn back around. “I need to get Alma home.”
“May I visit you again, perhaps in the morning?”
“Why?”
“I have so often desired for a woman to speak with, one I know will not fall prey to the Devil’s advances, one I know would never tempt me to sin. You are a virtuous woman, a woman of intellect. I feel safe with you.”
“I am sure Bjorn will come home, but late, as you said. He will sleep late. He will need sleep.”
“I have no desire to disturb Bjorn. And there are matters I should discuss with you, Mia. Matters about this witch Rose, and about Bjorn. Will you allow me to see you? I can come later in the morning.”
Bjorn would say very little to her tonight. If he did come home, he’d fall into bed, exhausted. He would have no interest in talking to her, not tonight, not in the morning, not ever. She might never learn why a witch had cursed him or if a witch had indeed cursed Alma.
“I cannot agree to a visit without my husband present. A good woman would do no less, even if you are our salvation.”
“You acknowledge that I alone can save this town? That your daughter has been healed? And still you will not entertain me?”
“I cannot. Not alone.”
“You would risk everything to deny me this?”
Mia pushed her foot deeper into the dirt, trying to steady herself. Her legs had gone soft. She exhaled and turned around to face him. “You say a woman is corrupt in her very nature. I am trying, sir, to be righteous, despite myself. You would not fault me for this, would you? You would not take away the healing Alma has found?”
Bastion’s steady gaze betrayed nothing of his thoughts. He grabbed her hand and she gasped. Lifting it to his mouth, he kissed it, a formal kiss without passion. Mia felt heat surge through her stomach.
“I’ve never met a woman like you.”
“I should go.”
“Yes. I will return to my work.” He bowed his head before he went, keeping his eyes on her, making her feel like a bloom forced open.
Mia bent down to take Alma back up in her arms and return home. Alma’s eyes were open wide in horror.
“You’ve seen too much tonight, child,” Mia whispered. “It is all over now. Everything will be all right.”
Alma took her thumb from her mouth and spoke her first word, though Father Stefan had said Alma would never speak.
“No,” Alma said.
Chapter Seventeen
Stefan sat on the bench closest to the altar, his head in his hands. The candles burned too low, but he did not move. Nothing mattered. Bjorn’s words echoed in his mind. Bastion came looking for the Devil and found one. But it had been Rose. It couldn’t have been Rose. She had been so quiet, so kind to the beggars who passed through the village. Yet Stefan let them burn her.
Bjorn came in and sat behind him. “I was wrong,” Bjorn said, resting a heavy hand on Stefan’s shoulder. Stefan lifted his head.
“I am not a good man, Stefan. I feared an Inquisitor would see that. I thought that would bring disaster.”
“What disaster?”
“It wasn’t disaster. It was freedom.”
“I gave you the sacrament of confession and forgiveness.”
“I did not tell you some things.”
“Because I am a priest? A priest and not a man like you?” Stefan heard how angry and cruel his voice sounded.
Bjorn looked up at the cross hanging above the altar. “You’re a good priest. But you cannot understand all sins. Even I cannot understand all sins.”
“God doesn’t call us to understand our sin. Just to repent of it.”
“Sometimes we want to be done with a sin, but the sin is not done with us.”
“How can I lead you if you do not speak plainly with me? My people lie to me, hide from me, and now I have to watch them burn?”
“Words have been of no use. You tell us to pray, to cleanse our hearts, but we go on sinning. Bastion roots out the source of the evil and does away with it.”
“Do you know what one of the village women told me tonight? She said the town has been in fear since Bastion came, not knowing whom the witch might be, whom she might hurt. A cat fell through her chimney, right into her ashes one night. She was afraid it might be a witch come to curse her, so she grabbed the poor thing and dunked it in a bucket of water, baptizing it in the Lord’s name. She tried to deliver it from Satan.”
Bjorn laughed, making Stefan twist his shoulder, throwing off Bjorn’s hand.
“It’s a cat, Stefan,” Bjorn said. “You can laugh.”
“What did Rose have to do with Catarina or Cronwall? Why would she want them dead?”
Bjorn leaned forward. Stefan could feel his breath on his neck.