CHAPTER ONE
Sister Abigail
Eunice
I HAVE BEEN told I look like Mila Kunis,
and you’d think this was a good thing, but in my line of work, it’s more of a
hindrance. You see, I’m a nun. Admittedly, I’m not a very good one, but
nonetheless, I am, in fact, a nun.
Which (in a very
roundabout way) led me to a tiny, hole-in-the wall bar at the edge of the Pearl
District in Portland, Oregon, on a quiet Wednesday night.
I was supposed
to be meeting my friend, Laura, for dinner, but as I stepped off the MAX, I
realized I’d gotten off at the wrong stop and, as was my luck, the small wet
sprinkle coming from the sky quickly turned into a downpour.
“Well, crap!” I
slapped a hand over my mouth and mumbled, “Sorry, Lord.”
Seriously, I was
the worst nun ever.
Unsure of which
street I was on, I took shelter under an awning next to a building with a frog
motif, but no other identifying information. Frustrated, I fished my phone out
of my purse and tried to figure out where I was. I had a missed call from
Laura, and a new voicemail, which I could only guess meant she wouldn’t be able
to make it.
“Hey, lady. I’m
so sorry, I’m stuck at work and I can’t get down to the Pearl for another hour.
Do you still want me to try or do you want to resched?” Yes, she said,
“resched.” “Anyhoo, text me and let me know what you want to do. Love ya,
’bye.”
Laura Chan was
my oldest friend. She was actually the only one who knew me before the nunnery,
and therefore knew me as Sadie Ross, not Sister Abigail Eunice. Laura’s parents
had moved from China, and into the house next door, the summer before second
grade. She’d spoken very little English, but we still managed to communicate
and we roamed the neighborhood, inseparable until my parents’ death. I adored
her, even though she wasn’t always reliable. Ever hopeful, however, I always
gave people the benefit of the doubt, so here I stood, only slightly protected
from the pouring rain. And it was pouring. I fired off a quick text to
Laura, pressing send... just as my phone died.
“Oh, holy mother
of—” I pulled my sweater closer around me and stepped toward the building’s
entrance so I could warm up and perhaps borrow a phone, but just as I moved
away from the wall, something came loose from above, dropping a bucket’s worth
of collected water on my head. I let out a quiet squeak and pulled off my now
soaked veil, yanking open the heavy wooden door and slipping inside.
“ID,” a gruff
voice demanded.
I nodded even
though I couldn’t see anything in the dark space, reaching into my purse and
pulling out my Oregon ID.
A large hand
swiped it from me then handed it back. “Sister Abigail, you look lost.”
I let out a
snort. “You have no idea. I’m stranded and my phone died.”
“Ryder can call
you a cab.”
“Ryder?”
“Owner.” He
nodded toward the back of the building. “He’s at the bar.”
“Do I really
need to go to the bar?” I asked.
“Lady, he’s got
the number for the only cab company he trusts and if I let you leave in one
from a company he doesn’t trust, he’ll be pissed.”
I gave him a
look of mock concern. “That sounds serious.”
Bouncer dude
chuckled. “Yeah, he’s got this weird thing about sweet women being protected.”
“What about
women who aren’t sweet?” I challenged.
“Those too.” The
bouncer laughed. “But the sweet ones always seem to get special treatment.”
I smiled. “Okay,
I’ll head to the bar.”
“Good plan.”
I walked past
the pool tables, dartboards, and a jukebox playing something with a heavy
drumbeat next to the bar, the counter of which ran the length of the building.
There weren’t a whole lot of patrons, just a few who looked as though they paid
weekly rent for their stools. However, I was surprised by the heart motifs
hanging and taped up in a few key places. I guess it made sense... Valentine’s
Day was tomorrow, so the bar was probably getting ready.
A tall man with
his back to me turned and I felt sucker punched. Like, as in, the breath left
my body.
His light-blue
eyes met mine and seemed to peer into my soul. I froze, unable to take one more
step under the weight of his scrutiny. He crossed his arms, keeping eye
contact, and I was drawn into his tractor beam-like pull. I inched forward, one
baby step at a time, taking in his light-blond hair, a full beard—not quite
Portland hipster full, but still sexy-as-heck full. When my gaze landed on his
lips he gave me this incredibly delicious sideways smirk, and Lord help me, I
wanted him to kiss me.
See? Worst nun
ever.
“You lost,
Sister?”
“How did you
know I’m a nun?” Without my veil, most people just threw pitiful glances at my
clothes as though I didn’t know how to dress in anything fashionable. I wore a
sturdy black wool dress, black tights, and a gray button-up cardigan.
“Couple years of
Catholic school. ’Course, I never saw a nun who looked like you, but it’s your
shoes that give you away. It’s always the shoes.”
“Oh.” I bit my
lip, glancing at my feet. “Well, you got that right. They call them sensible...
I call them ugly.”
“Not touchin’
that one.” Ryder smiled. “You need directions?”
I shook my head.
“I’m that tale of woe, I’m afraid. My friend couldn’t make our dinner date and
my phone died.”
“You need a
cab?”
“Yes, but do you
mind if I just warm up for a minute?”
“You want some
tea?”
I couldn’t stop
a huge smile of relief as I sat on one of the stools. “I would love some
tea.”
“Give me your
phone and I’ll charge it for you.”
“No, that’s
okay.” I waved my hand dismissively. “I doubt you’ll have a charger that
works.”
He chuckled.
“You’d be surprised.”
I pulled out my
six-year-old flip phone and slid it to him.
“Right,” he
said.
“Solve that
one,” I retorted with a giggle.
“Oh, you don’t
think I can?” He pulled open a drawer next to the cash register. After testing
several cords against my phone, he let out a, “Gotcha!” and faced me again,
plugging my phone into the wall. “Found one.”
“How is that
even possible?”
He laughed. “We
never throw anything away and people leave shi—ah, stuff here all the time.”
I raised my
hands and gave him quiet applause. “Well done, sir. Well done.”
He grinned and
handed me a cup of hot water and a couple of tea bags. I was pleasantly
surprised to see he had my favorite licorice flavor and steeped it in the water
while Ryder went about his business.
“You look like
you’re gearing up for Valentine’s Day,” I said, and sipped my tea.
Ryder shook his
head. “Not my choice.”
“Aren’t you the
owner?”
He chuckled.
“Doesn’t mean I’m not ruled by my patrons.”
“Ah, so not a
romantic, then.”
“Just think men
should show their women they love ’em every day... not wait for one day out of
the year. The whole holiday is a farce, in my opinion.”
I smiled. Maybe
he was a romantic.
As he freshened
my hot water, I wondered what my fellow sisters would think about the
predicament I’d gotten myself into. Granted, they rarely left the abbey, but
they also didn’t have jobs like I did.
Being a
fourth-grade teacher and working for the Catholic school next to our living
quarters was a perfect setup for me. Lately, however, I’d been feeling restless
and I know Reverend Mother noticed. In fact, I had a meeting with her in the
morning and it sounded serious, so being late or tired would not be an option.
Perhaps my ill-fated evening was cut short for a very good reason. Mother
always says God works in mysterious ways.
“You ready for
that cab?”
Ryder’s question
pulled me from my thoughts and I smiled, shaking my head. “Is it okay if I
stick around for a little bit?”
“Knock yourself
out.” He glanced at his watch. “But you’re outta here within the hour. It gets
a little rowdy at night.”
“Your bouncer
warned me about you.”
“Yeah?”
I wrapped my
hands around the cup, warming them. “He said you’re very protective of women.”
He glanced
behind me and then met my eyes again. “Bennie talks too much.”
“Maybe so.” I
shrugged and then sipped my tea again.
“What do people
call you other than ‘Sister’?”
“Nothing. I’m
Sister Abigail Eunice. Although my parents named me Sadie.”
Now why did I
share that? I
hadn’t used my real name in years.
He leaned
against the bar. “Pretty.”
My breath
caught. “My parents thought so,” I said once I could speak again.
“But not you?”
“No, I like it
fine. I guess I don’t really think about my name much.” I shrugged. “My
students call me Sister and I don’t have many friends outside of... well,
outside.” I shook my head. “Gosh, that sounds so narrow.”
Ryder grinned.
“Sheltered perhaps.”
“That’s very
gracious, Ryder.”
He cocked his
head. “Never been called gracious before.”
Elbow on the
bar, I settled my chin in my palm. “That surprises me.”
“Of course it
does. You’re a nun.”
“Meaning?”
“You’re gracious
to everyone, so you assume others will be gracious as well.”
“I’m not
gracious to everyone. I’m a nun, not perfect.”
Ryder shrugged.
“Fair enough.”
“I should go.”
“Probably a good
idea.” He grabbed his cell phone and put it to his ear. “Hey. Got time to drop
someone home?” He faced me. “Where do you live?”
“Beaverton.”
“Beaverton.
Great. Yeah, five minutes works. Thanks.” Ryder hung up and slid his phone back
in his pocket.
“You’re pretty
friendly with the cab company, huh?” I took the last swig of tea and set the
cup down.
“One of my guys
is taking you home.”
“I thought you
were calling me a cab.”
“Can’t let a nun
pay the cab fare all the way to Beaverton.”
I frowned. “You
don’t think I can pay for cab fare?”
“Not what I
said, Sister.”
“Wow, you really
take this whole I-am-man-hear-me-roar stuff, to a whole ’nother level, huh?”
His gaze went to
something (or someone) behind me and he nodded. “Ride’s here.”
I decided not to
argue; probably because it would do absolutely no good, and slid off my stool.
“Thanks for the tea.”
“Anytime,
Sister.”
Somehow, him
calling me “Sister” felt lacking. I took a deep breath. Lordy, I was
ridiculous... and I probably needed to confess, but I knew I wouldn’t.
Again, worst nun
award goes to...
Ryder grabbed my
phone and stepped out from behind the bar. “My number’s in there if you need
anything.”
“What would I
need?” I asked, and took the phone from him.
He shrugged.
“You never know, Sister. It’s a resource. Feel free to use it.”
What a strange
thing to say.
“Thanks for
everything, Ryder,” I said, leaving my internal thoughts in my head.
“No problem.” He
nodded toward his friend. “This is Reese. He’s gonna take you home.”
Reese was tall,
dark, and handsome as they say, but he had an edge about him that made me a
little nervous. His hair was longer than Ryder’s and kind of shaggy, and he was
quite muscular. I was fairly confident he wouldn’t hurt me, but had I met him
under different circumstances, I might have declined a ride.
A warm hand
settled on my back and I felt a shiver steal down my spine.
“You okay,
Sister?” he asked.
“Yes, fine.”
“You’re safe
with him, yeah? You have any issues, you call me.”
“Okay.” I
stepped away from his touch and forced a smile. “Reese, it’s lovely to meet
you. Thank you for the ride.”
“No problem.” He
waved his hand toward the door. “This way.”
With a backward
glance and smile to Ryder, I followed Reese out to the car, grateful he wasn’t
a big talker. Our conversation consisted of him asking me for my address and me
giving it to him. The rest of the ride strictly featured me gripping the door
handle (as was my habit). I hated cars and avoided them whenever I could.
It didn’t take
long to arrive at the rectory and I thanked Reese and climbed out of the car, a
little taken aback when he followed. “I’m fine from here.”
“Ryder’d kick my
a—rear if I didn’t make sure you made it inside safely.”
“Right, his
protection fetish.”
Reese chuckled
but didn’t comment.
I led him up the
brick walkway and to the back of the building where I unlocked the door and
stepped inside. “Thanks again for the ride.”
“My pleasure,
Sister. Have a good night.”
He walked away,
and I closed and locked the door.
* * *
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