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lewmagoo · 2 years ago

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before the devil comes for you | robert "bob" floyd

chapter one

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summary: the year is 1975. robert floyd is a young reverend haunted by demons from his past. fresh out of seminary, he is led to take up a backwoods church in a small mining town. there, he meets a woman who is in the midst of questioning the very foundation of her faith. as their worlds collide, robert soon finds himself tangled in a web of temptation and lies. with the past he’s spent so long trying to outrun quickly closing in, he is faced with a decision, in which he must either condemn the woman he loves, or turn his back on his faith.

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pairing: robert "bob" floyd x oc (fairlight mackall)

warnings: 18+ ONLY, this story will contain heavy religious themes, poverty, eventual smut, violence, mentions of death, religious trauma, mentions and/or depictions of abuse. specific warnings will be added to each part accordingly

note: i am no longer able to add anymore blogs to my taglist, as i've hit a tagging limit. please follow my tag #before the devil comes for you if you would like to keep up with this story

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It was an unseasonably warm day in late May when Reverend Robert Floyd arrived in the backwoods village of Backforty Gap, smack dab in the middle of Preston County, West Virginia.

The heat of the day had already gotten to him, leaving his fair brow wet with sweat, and his cotton shirt, the one his mother had made him, soaked through.

He was seated in the passenger’s seat of a rusty old Ford pickup, likely from the 1940s. The seats were worn and cracked. A pair of dirty, old fuzzy dice hung from the rearview mirror. The cab smelled like cigarettes and motor oil. The engine was loud.

Bob tugged at the collar of his shirt, trying futilely to ease the heat around his neck.

The man driving, who’d introduced himself as Cricket, said nothing for most of the ride, except to make comments about certain landmarks they’d pass by. Bob wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting when he pictured Backforty Gap, but it certainly wasn’t this.

There were seemingly unending stretches of highway, flanked by dense woods. Occasionally, they would pass by a dilapidated home that he was certain was abandoned, but Cricket would inform him that someone actually lived there.

“That’s the Renner place,” he gruffly informed Bob as they passed by what looked to be nothing more than a little shack.

Bob’s eyes widened. “Someone actually lives there?”

He hadn’t meant it to come across like he was casting judgment, but Cricket took it that way. “Don’t go dogging the way people live here, Reverend. It’ll do you well to keep them thoughts to yourself.”

“Oh, I-I wasn’t-” He tried, but suddenly, the truck took a sharp turn, and the words died on his lips as he lurched to the side, arms shooting out to steady himself. Suddenly, they were on a winding gravel road, and the truck rocked and rattled as they went. Bob was sure the ride knocked a rib or two loose.

Along that winding road, he caught sight of the church that would soon be his responsibility. A run-down country church, white paint peeling around the edges, arched windows furnished with stained glass.

He almost opened his mouth to ask Cricket to stop for a moment to allow himself to get acquainted with the sanctuary, but thought better of it. The man seemed like he wanted to get this over with, so Bob remained quiet and instead let his eyes flicker away from the small church and onto the road ahead.

They passed by a few houses on the way up the mountain. A few that were just as dilapidated as the one he’d seen along the main road. Others were in better condition. Some were mere cabins. Others were actual houses.

Many of the houses were littered with wandering chickens in the front yards. Hunting dogs howled as the truck passed. Cats dozed in the shade of old oak trees. Children played barefoot in their yards.

Bob was a little stunned. This place seemed stuck in time, as if it was a time capsule from seventy years prior. The area was clearly very poor. If the poorly kept houses weren’t a dead giveaway, then the children’s tattered clothes and gaunt faces were. He was quickly beginning to realize why the Almighty had led him here.

He was hopeful about his mission here, but he wasn’t quite sure how the community would react to him. He’d been told numerous times that small-town, backwoods folks like this did not take well to drastic changes like this. He would surely have his work cut out for him.

“Mackall place is up here a ways,” Cricket’s gruff voice startled Bob from his reverie. “I’m gon’ drop you off at the end of their drive, because it’s a real bitch to turn this truck around up there.” Then, he cast a sheepish glance at the young reverend. “Excusin’ the language, Reverend.”

Bob waved a dismissive hand. “It’s quite alright.” He’d certainly been known to utter worse things during his own time away from the Lord.

As promised, Cricket pulled the truck to a stop at the end of a long, dirt driveway. Bob thanked the man and made a move to place money in his hand. But he refused to take it. “S’ the least I could do for the man of God.”

With a shrug, Bob climbed out of the truck and onto the dirt and gravel below. He thanked Cricket once more before he retrieved his tattered old suitcase from the truck bed, and turned to face the seemingly unending driveway.

Here goes nothing, he thought to himself. And away he went.

As he walked beneath the beating sun, guaranteed to turn his fair skin pink, he marveled at the circumstances that had brought him here. He had only just finished seminary, when an offer to take up a church in Backforty Gap had dropped into his lap.

He’d barely given it a second thought before accepting the offer. Admittedly, he probably should have whispered a prayer to ask for wisdom, but he was just so eager to get to work that he assumed this was a sign from God.

A week later, he was boarding a greyhound bus headed for Morgantown, West Virginia. From there, a man from Backforty Gap would be waiting at the station to drive him up to the village. Or, holler, as the locals called it.

That’s where he’d been greeted by Cricket, a man of few words. When Bob had asked if that was his given name, or a nickname, the only answer he’d received was a grunt.

Cricket had driven thirty-five minutes to get to Backforty Gap. And that’s where Robert Floyd found himself now.

He was brimming with anticipation over being in a new place. It was a chance for him to have a fresh start and make something out of himself. A chance to make his momma proud, for once. A chance to finally shed all those demons from his past and walk into the light.

But before he could get on with his mission, he had to settle into the place he’d be living for the time being.

The church property did not have a pastor’s quarters. Instead, Bob would be staying up the road a ways, on the property of the church’s head deacon, Montgomery Mackall.

He had no idea what to expect as he trod the dirt path. Would he come upon a home as poor and dilapidated as all the others?

His questions were soon answered when he caught sight of a farmhouse in the distance. It was not grand, but it was no sunken shack, either. It looked big enough to house an entire family comfortably.

The paint on the outside was sun-bleached and peeling. The screen on the front door was falling off. But that seemed to be the only cosmetic disrepair on the house. Other than that it was much nicer than all the other places he’d seen on the drive up here.

Inside the house was a young woman of twenty-one, humming a dreamy tune to herself as she set about doing her daily chores. She was in the kitchen, the windows open to let in the warm spring air as she swept the worn, wooden floor.

When she glanced up from her work, eyes flickering to the open window over the sink, she caught sight of a figure approaching.

She didn’t recognize whoever it was, which led realization to dawn on her. She hastily shoved her broom against the nearest wall, rushing to untie her hand-sewn apron.

“Daddy! The new preacher’s here!” She called to her father, who was in the back of the house, in the small shoebox of a room he called his study.

She heard shuffling, and a moment later, Montgomery Mackall stepped into the hall. Standing at over six feet tall, he was a steady mountain of a man. Hard set jaw, striking blue eyes that had seen many things, and a handsome, ruddy face that was slightly weathered from years in the sun.

Montgomery, or, Mont, as his friends called him, walked steadily to the front door, pushing the screen open, but catching it before it could slam against the side of the house. His daughter followed close behind, brimming with curiosity as she tried to peer around his broad shoulders to catch a better glimpse of the reverend.

Down the path, Bob saw two people step out onto the front porch of the old farmhouse, and he lifted his hand in greeting. The cotton of his shirt shifted against his skin as he did so, reminding him of just how hot and sticky he really was, thanks to the warmth of the weather.

He might have preferred to wash up before he met his host family, but there would be time for that later. Instead, he squared his shoulders and walked determinedly. He wanted to make a good impression. Wanted these people to see him in a good light.

He supposed thinking that way was sinful. It wasn’t about him, after all. It was about showing the love of Christ to others. He had to remind himself of that as he finally caught up to the man and woman who’d just stepped off of the porch.

Bob came face to face with a man who stood at eye level with him. The man’s brow was set in a scowl, only because of the sun that shone on his face. Even so, he looked rather intimidating, but Bob tried not to let it bother him.

“Reverend Floyd,” Montgomery spoke, reaching out a firm, work-calloused hand.

Bob shook his hand, a little jarred by the rough grip, but he recovered quickly and returned the handshake with renewed enthusiasm. “You must be Mr. Mackall,” he mused.

Mont nodded. “Sure am. You can call me Mont, though. Don’t need to go by formalities.” Then, he turned, revealing the girl who’d been standing just behind him. “This here’s my daughter, Fairlight.”

As his eyes fell upon the young woman, Robert’s breath caught in his chest. There she stood, flaxen hair glimmering in the sun, the kindest smile he’d ever seen lighting up her face. But it was her eyes that stopped him dead in his tracks. They were unlike anything he’d ever seen before. A stormy, gray-blue that made him feel like he was staring into the sky in anticipation of a summer thunderstorm.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, sir.” She held her hand out, and he took it, gently shaking it.

She didn’t miss the way his hand quite literally swallowed her smaller one. He was not what she’d been expecting in the least. When her father told her of a new reverend by the name of Robert Floyd taking over Backforty Church of God, she’d imagined a much older man. Graying hair. Hunched shoulders. Belly rounded from the evidence of his own gluttony.

Her mind had never imagined him to look like this. Tall and lithe. Chestnut hair, the edges of which were curled around his forehead, glimmering with perspiration. His eyes were the clearest blue, even more so than her own father’s. His features were soft, but striking all at once. Little did she know that this very moment, this first meeting, would change the trajectory of her life forever.

But all too soon, the spell was broken, and Reverend Floyd pulled his hand from hers quickly. She noticed that he flexed his fingers, as if trying to rid himself of the feel of her touch.

Her father started speaking again. “We got a lot to talk about. You’re gon’ need to be prepared before you walk through them church doors on Sunday morning. But first, I reckon you’re eager to get freshened up.” Mont motioned to his daughter. “Faitlight’ll show you where you’re staying.”

There it was again, that warm smile of hers. If Bob stared too long, his eyes burned. He thanked Mont, and quickly moved to follow the girl. When he looked down, he realized that her feet were bare. She walked surely, so familiar with every inch of land that she was not afraid of where her feet might fall.

“You’ll be staying in our guest house,” she spoke up, her voice soft, “but don’t expect anything luxurious. It’s just an old shack my daddy fixed up.”

“Oh, I’m not picky. Just thankful the Lord provided a place for me to rest my head while I’m here,” Bob replied with a smile.

Fairlight glanced over her shoulder at him and mirrored that smile. She moved her focus back to the path ahead, and Bob watched her, pretty floral dress swishing around her bare legs. But he quickly averted his gaze. What on earth was wrong with him? He’d been here all of five minutes and his mind was already wandering.

Father, forgive me.

Instead, he rehearsed Scripture in his mind. Verses he’d had to commit to memory in seminary. He was so wrapped up in repeating those verses that he didn’t even realized they’d reached the guest house. Fairlight stopped, but his head was so far in the clouds that he didn’t see, and he collided with her.

With a gasp of surprise, she stumbled forward from the force, and Bob’s arm shot out, catching her before she could fall. “Sorry! I’m sorry, I-I wasn’t paying attention,” he profusely apologized.

But when she turned, there was laughter on her lips, flowing like sweet communion wine. “It’s okay,” she assured him.

His hand was clasped around her forearm, and he quickly released her, posture straightening. He looked beyond her and took in the sight of the house. She hadn’t been exaggerating when she said it was a shack. It was rather small, built from simple wooden planks. But it appeared sturdy enough that the weather would not get to it.

Fairlight stepped forward to open the door, and she motioned for him to step inside. As he did, his eyes explored the space. The floor was also wooden. A twin bed was placed in the corner, furnished with a wooden frame. There was a small nightstand beside it. At its foot, a small chest for storing clothing.

On the other side, there was a small writing desk. In the middle of the room, there was a modest, well-worn couch.

“Well, this is it. It’s not much, but…”

Bob shook his head. “No, it’s just right. Thank you, really. I appreciate that your father was willing to take me in like this.”

“Oh, he’s happy to do it. He’s just relieved we found a pastor to take on the church. He’s been preaching all the messages lately and it’s really wearing on him.”

Bob paused after he set his bag on the bed. “Can I ask what happened to the last reverend?”

Her face darkened slightly. “We had an outbreak of scarlet fever a while back. He visited all the families that were suffering from it. Then, he came down with it, and it killed him.”

Bob’s eyes widened. “O-oh. I had no idea. No one told me any details. Just that there was a congregation in need of a reverend.” Then, “but, surely he could've gotten help, right? There’s a hospital in Morgantown.”

Fairlight shook her head. “You don’t understand. People in this community don’t trust doctors. We have a local doctor, Doctor McHone. Our people barely even trust him as it is. Hospitals are out of the question.”

He was a little floored at her statement. People were still behaving like this, in 1975? He hadn’t realized just how stuck in time this place actually was. “Wow,” was all he could murmur.

“They don’t take well to new people, either. Some of them might give you a hard time. But with my daddy backing you, you should be fine. They trust his judgment. Besides, I’m glad you’re here. We could use someone to breathe new life into the church.”

Bob dipped his head forward. “I hope I can do that, then.”

Fairlight hummed, folding her arms across her middle. Tendrils of pale hair fell from her plait as she regarded him. “I’ve gotta say, you aren’t what I was expecting.”

He raised his brow. “Is that a good thing?”

“It is. I thought you’d be an old man with gray hair and wrinkles. But you’re not. I like the look of you. You have a kind face.”

Bob couldn’t ignore the odd feeling that spread through his chest. A prickling discomfort. His mind flickered to a moment from his past. A time in which he would never have thought of himself as kind. A time in which he was so entrenched in the pits of sin he thought he’d never escape.

But here he was, a new man, living a new life. A man who’d been given a second chance. He thanked Fairlight for her compliment, though he was certain his neck had turned pink from her words.

“Well, I’ll let you get settled in. I’m sure you’re used to having running water in the city, but out here, you’d be hard-pressed to find a house with running water. We use an outhouse to do our business, it’s just behind the main house. There’s a tub we use for baths, but I usually just bathe in the river up the road, so it’s up to you as to what you’d like to do.”

“Thank you,” Bob said.

“I make all the meals ‘round here. Breakfast is at seven. Lunch is usually at noon. Dinner is at five.” She paused, as if going over something in her mind. “I think that’s all. Daddy will fill you in on the rest, I suppose. If you need anything, let me know.” She’d inched toward the door, but her body was still turned toward him, like she didn’t want to go.

“Thank you,” he said again, dumbly. Could he not think of a more creative thing to say? But his irritation at himself was forgotten as she turned to go, and he called out to her, his worry getting the best of him. “What…what should I expect, taking on this church?”

Fairlight hesitated, as if considering just how much she should tell him. But she didn’t think she was the right person to do so. Not when in her heart of hearts, she cared nothing for the church, and wanted to see it rot. But that was a story for another time, one she would not dare breathe to a man of God such as the one before her.

Instead, she put forth the all-too-familiar persona of the obedient little church mouse. She smiled and shook her head at the young reverend. “That’s something you should ask my daddy.”

Bob nodded. “You’re right. Sorry, didn’t mean to interrogate ya.”

But she shook her head. “It’s okay. You’re just curious, is all. I would be too. There’s lots to learn about this place. But you’ll come along just fine, I’m sure.” Finally, moved to step back outside.

He followed her, standing in the doorway while she stood on the earth. The sun hit her just right, and she appeared to be glowing. “It was nice to meet you, Reverend Floyd.”

“You as well, Miss Mackall,” he answered.

She waved him off. “Call me Fairlight, please.”

“Fairlight, then.”

She nodded, eyes soft. Lingering but for a moment, she turned away, making her way back to the main house. Bob watched her go, and he tried to push aside the strange sensation blooming to life within him. He wasn’t quite sure what it was. He blamed it on nerves.

Once the woman was out of sight, he turned around, scanning his surroundings again. It wasn’t much, but it was adequate for what he needed. It was time to get settled in. So, he set about unpacking his minimal belongings.

Bob had gotten rid of many of his old possessions. At seminary, they had taught him that worldly possessions held little to no value. It was vitally important to lay up heavenly treasures, instead.

So, he kept only what was necessary, and gave the rest away to charity. It had been freeing to do so, because many of his things reminded him of the man he was before. He didn’t want any reminders of him.

Now, all he owned were some toiletries, a few changes of clothes, pajamas, the watch his grandfather had given him when he was seventeen, a moleskin journal and few pens, two pairs of shoes, a winter coat, a Sunday suit, underclothes, and, his most prized possession, his leatherbound Bible.

Those items were all he had in the world. But he was not in want of anything. He found that, in his travels, he was always taken care of somehow. A kind stranger offered him a place to lay his head. A church held a love offering for him. A sweet elderly woman made him a home-cooked meal. The Lord always took care of His own.

Bob was grateful for His provision.

As he set about unpacking, he was soon interrupted by a knock at the door. He stepped across the room, opening it to reveal Montgomery.

“All settled?” The man asked.

“Getting there,” Bob responded with a smile.

Mont nodded. “Don’t mean to pull you away, but I imagine you would like to see the church.”

Bob nodded. “I would, actually. Give me a moment to get freshened up, I’ve been sweating like a sinner in church.”

Mont didn’t seem to find that funny. “Don’t bother, you’ll just start sweatin’ again as soon as you come outside.”

Sensing he didn’t want to wait, Bob complied, stepping outside and closing the door behind him. He followed Mont back toward the house, where he was led to an old pickup truck. Those seemed to be all anyone drove around here.

The two men climbed into the cab of the truck, and soon, they were off. Mont drove back the way Bob had come from, taking the winding, rough, gravel road. It took about ten minutes to get to the church, and finally, the truck came to a stop, breaks squeaking as it did so.

Bob followed Mont’s lead, climbing out of the truck and onto the dirt. As the pair approached the small church, Bob marveled at its appearance. It was more run-down than he’d realized. It clearly had not been updated in quite some time.

“Needs some work, as you can see for yourself,” Mont spoke up as he stepped up to the front doors, fishing a key out of his pocket and unlocking them. “Been meanin’ to work on it, but funds are tight, and these people are hurting. Haven’t had the heart to ask them to contribute more than they already do for Sunday offerings.”

“Just how bad off is this community?” Bob questioned. “So I know what I’m dealing with.”

Mont sighed as he led the young reverend into the building. “I’m afraid you ain’t been prepared properly for this, Reverend. This is one of the poorest communities in the area.”

“And nobody has started a mission to help them?”

“Nobody cares about backwoods folks like these. They’d rather let ‘em rot.” Mont stopped at one of the old, worn benches, knocking his fingers against the wood. “People ‘round here are dirt poor. They won’t accept charity. Their livelihood is coal mining. Most of the men here are miners. They take providing for their families very seriously. And since the fighting in Vietnam started, there have been a lot of mining spots needing filled, with some of our boys off fighting. The people are hurting from the loss”

The war was over. At least, that’s what had been announced a month ago. But Bob figured most of the boys weren’t home yet. And, it was likely that many of them had died in action and would not return to their families in Backforty Gap. He didn’t ask more questions about it, however. He would learn what he needed to know once he got familiar with the community.

“I didn’t realize how…stuck in time this place would be. I wasn’t expecting something like this in America, of all places. When you think of poor areas like this, you picture a village in Africa somewhere.”

Mont raised a brow. “Shows how privileged a life you’ve led, Reverend. No disrespect.”

“None taken,” Bob replied.

“These people, they don’t do well with change. They like things the way they are. It took a mighty bit of convincing for them to agree to bring on a new pastor.” His eyes held a serious stare as he stepped closer to Bob. “You’d best not let them down.”

The weight of this responsibility hit Robert like a ton of bricks. How was he going to shepherd and care for this impoverished community? Was he cut out for such a thing? Could he be the pastor they needed? Worry bubbled to life within his chest, but he forced himself to swallow it down.

This was what God had called him to do. He had to trust His plan. Bob had been led to Backforty Gap for a reason. It would do him well to get to work and quit worrying about all the little details. Everything would fall into place soon enough.

“So what do you say, Reverend? Think you’re cut out for this?”

Bob pulled his shoulders back confidently and smiled. “These people need me. I can’t turn my back on them.”

Montgomery returned his smile. “That’s what I was hopin’ you’d say.” Then, he turned. “Follow me. There’s lots for you to see.”

And so it began.

Although the task at hand seemed overwhelming, Bob knew this was where he was meant to be. He was grateful he’d even been considered for this opportunity.

He had worked hard to clean his life up, and it was finally paying off. But past demons always have a way of rearing their ugly heads when one least expects it, and those demons were about to give Reverend Robert Floyd a run for his money.

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lewmagoo · 2 years ago

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before the devil comes for you | robert "bob" floyd

chapter three previous chapter

listen to the playlist here

pairing: robert "bob" floyd x oc (fairlight mackall)

warnings: 18+ ONLY, heavy religious themes, mentions of death, mention of gunshot injury, misogynistic idealism, verbal abuse (fairlight's father berates her)

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Reverend Robert Floyd wasn’t quite sure what he’d been expecting when the Lord had led him to the village of Backforty Gap.

No matter how he pictured it in his mind, nothing could have prepared him for the reality of life in this place. He’d barely been in the village for three days, and he was already laying hands upon an injured man, beseeching the Almighty not to take him from his family.

Bob quickly learned that life in this place could be frightening and arduous. In fact, it almost seemed that the people just expected life to be that way. They believed that God was testing them, and that everything that happened to them had a heavenly purpose.

They believed it so deeply that Bob wasn’t sure they’d be willing to listen to anything else. He had to choose his words carefully so as not to upset the apple cart. Especially when Jed Allen’s children were asking him all these questions as he looked after them the night after their father was injured.

Doc McHone had insisted that he wanted to keep Jed at his place overnight to see that he made it through the night. Their mother, Livy, refused to leave her husband’s side. The prospect of leaving him even for a few hours almost sent her into hysterics.

It seemed that the only one who could calm her was Bob, just as he’d done in the beginning when Jed had first been brought to the doctor. Bob prayed over her and her husband, and it seemed to settle her considerably.

She had reason to be so distraught. The thought of losing her husband was more than she could bear. She had only just lost her second eldest child to the war. Samuel Allen was only eighteen years of age when he died. Killed within the first few weeks of combat. His body had been shipped home, leaving the Allens to bury their son and brother themselves.

There was no fanfare. No gun salute or folding of the flag. He’d simply been lowered into the ground in the middle of the local Pratt Cemetery, a soldier forgotten. The story had been relayed to him by Fairlight, who’d told him in hushed tones, so he knew what he was dealing with.

His heart went out to Livy Allen and her children. The sight of her bent over her husband, whispering repeated prayers, was gut-wrenching. And the children broke his heart, too. Especially young Will, who’d been the one to witness his father sustain his injury.

It was clear that this family needed all the support they could get. The responsibility to provide that support weighed heavily on the young preacher’s shoulders. He hoped he could offer them the comfort they needed.

This resulted in him spending the night in the Allen’s weatherbeaten old house, dutifully watching over each and every one of those children. Zinnia, being the oldest at twenty years old, was responsible for the children in her mother’s absence. And she was perfectly capable of taking care of her younger siblings. But Fairlight had known Zinnia her entire life. And she knew when her friend needed help. She could see that the girl felt incredibly lost and alone. Although their friendship was not what it once was, she still cared about Zinnia, and wanted to offer help during a difficult time.

That was how Bob and Fairlight had found themselves here, laid out on an uncomfortable, worn wooden floor, surrounded by sleeping children. There were a few bedrooms in the house, but the siblings were so shaken that they didn’t want to be apart. So everyone had fallen asleep on the floor in the sitting room.

Bob hadn’t slept a wink all night. He was too busy contemplating the weight of it all. Was he truly cut out for this? His mind kept replaying the events of the day before. The way he’d barely been able to handle it. Seeing that bullet wound in Jed Allen had awakened memories he thought he’d pushed aside long ago. It reminded him of the wicked things he had done.

He knew that his sins were covered by the Blood, but that didn’t mean that he still didn’t struggle with guilt. It made him wonder if becoming a preacher was the best decision. But then he thought of his mother, and how proud she’d been when he informed her he was going to seminary.

When he graduated, he would never forget the gleam in her eyes as he presented her with the certificate confirming that he, Robert Nathanael Floyd, was now an ordained minister. She’d taken his face in her hands and whispered, “thank you, Lord, for bringing my Bobby back to You.”

How could he disappoint her by giving up so easily?

And then he thought of Fairlight. He could still hear her melodic voice carrying out into the warm air, soothing his nerves, and bringing him back down to earth as she sang to the children.

Here was a woman who’d lived in these mountains her whole life. She had faced great adversity and still remained the epitome of grace and strength, even in the midst of her backwoods community.

And Bob admired that about her. He found himself inspired by her, and it seemed that her resolve had been just the push he needed to make the decision to stay here for as long as the Almighty would have him do so.

So, he decided that sleeping on a hardwood floor all night was worth it, if it meant he was fulfilling his purpose here.

He rose with the sun that morning, careful not to step on any sleeping children as he crept outside onto the porch, pulling the heavy wooden door shut behind him. It was time to talk to the Lord.

He spent a few minutes praying and taking in the mountain air. The morning was warm, but it was comfortable. Birds sang above, songbirds rehearsing their chorus. The way the house was situated, one could see the sunrise from the porch. And that’s what Bob did. He watched the rays of light filter in through the trees, smiling to himself at the thought. This place was one of great beauty and splendor. He marveled at it all.

But his tranquility was soon interrupted by the sound of the door sliding open. He turned, only to find Fairlight stepping onto the porch, her feet bare, as they often were. She smiled at him, a sleepy smile that was surely the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen.

He stopped himself before his mind could wander too far.

“Morning’, Preacher,” she greeted him as she eased the door shut. “How’d you sleep?”

He shrugged, wrinkling his nose in distaste. “Hardly a wink. But it’s alright, I can always catch up on sleep tonight. What about you?”

“Not any better than you. But it seems like all the little ones all got some sleep, which I was hoping for. Poor things went through a lot yesterday.”

Bob hummed as she moved to stand beside him, leaning against the porch railing. She’d let her golden locks out of the plait they’d previously been weaved into, and her hair framed her face. He thought it looked like a halo, of sorts.

There it was again, that stubborn mind of his beginning to wander. He forced his thoughts of her beauty aside and continued speaking.

“I was thinking I would pray with them before we leave today,” he remarked.

Fairlight nodded. “They’d like that. Especially Zinnia.”

“Are you two close?” He asked, out of curiosity.

The girl shrugged, her fingers running idly across a rough patch of wood. “We were, once. We grew up together. She’s a little younger than me, but she’s the only girl close to my age around here, so we were drawn to each other, I guess you could say. But lately, we’ve been growing apart. Mainly because she’s getting married soon and I don’t want any part of it.”

At her explanation, Bob’s brow furrowed. He knew he was essentially engaging in gossip by asking further questions, but he figured the Lord would forgive him, so he asked anyway. “Why is that?”

“The man she’s marryin’…I don’t like him. I think he’s no good for her. But she insists it’s the Lord’s plan for them to be together. But he acts like my—” she stopped herself, second-guessing the words she was about to say. My father. Instead, she said, “he believes all women are good for is getting married and popping out babies.”

Realization lifted his brow. “Oh, I see,” came his reply.

“What do you think about that, Preacher? Do you agree with him?” She asked. He looked at her, and found that she was not trying to trap him with her words. She was merely curious, and he could see how conflicted she was.

What did he think about it? He decided to be honest with her, simply to ease her mind. “I disagree. Women are meant for so much more than that.”

“You think so? Because my entire life, I’ve been told my worth is in my ability to bear children.” Fairlight lifted a delicate hand to her abdomen, just over the place where her womb would be. “I-I don’t want to have babies. I don’t want to bring them into this kind of life. Is that…is that wrong of me?”

Bob felt an ache blossom in his chest at her words. She looked so lost, standing there in her bare feet, her gray eyes filled with something akin to fear, or uncertainty.

“No, it’s not wrong. From what I’ve seen already, life out here is hard. I don’t fault you for deciding you don’t want to bring a child into it.”

“Daddy says it isn't right for a woman to not want a child. Says there’s something wrong with a woman to think that way.” But Fairlight didn’t trust her father’s judgment about such things. He couldn’t even keep the wife he had. She had fled from his harshness, unwilling to bring any more children into their union.

Fairlight would never forget the day she left, small as she was. Opal had wanted so badly to take her daughter with her, but Montgomery would not let her. He refused to allow her to even say goodbye.

It was a scene that had been forever burned in Fairlight’s mind. And while Mont had done all he could to poison her memory of her mother, and insist that Opal was selfish and unloving for what she did, it hadn’t worked the way he’d intended it.

Now, at nearly twenty-two, Fairlight was beginning to understand her mother’s reasoning for leaving. She had to, for her own well-being. It was either escape, or suffer at the hands of her controlling husband.

Mont, however, insisted on telling people that she had died. Mostly because his pride was so severely wounded that she had outright left him. He couldn’t face it, not even now, almost sixteen years later.

That was the story that Bob had gotten. But it wasn’t true. And Fairlight was itching to tell him that. However, she was afraid of how her father would react if he found out she blurted such a thing to the preacher. So, it was one thing she kept to herself.

But now, as they stood there on the porch, and he gazed upon her with those deep blue eyes, she felt like she could tell him anything. It was an odd feeling, one that she hadn’t experienced with anyone before. No one ever bothered to truly listen to her. But here was Robert Floyd, a man she’d only known but a few days, who made her feel seen for the first time in her life.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he said with conviction. His gentle voice pulled her from her reverie. “I don’t believe God intended you to only be good for reproducing. He gave you a beautiful, strong mind. You’re so much more than your ability to bear children. Don’t you ever forget that.”

His words struck her, and she felt tears well in her eyes. She’d never heard the men in her life, let alone a preacher, say such things. The old preacher, Reverend Daniels, had held the same archaic views as all the other men in this community. He strongly believed things should be done the old-fashioned way.

Robert Floyd didn’t think that way, however. And part of her was concerned for how he would fare in this church. But in her emotional state, she could not utter anything more than a “th-thank you.”

Bob smiled softly. “I meant every word.” But he couldn’t fathom the fact that this woman, this kind, gentle, strong woman, had been reduced to something so one-dimensional. It made his chest warm with indignation toward the ones who’d made her feel this way.

But he was getting ahead of himself. He needed to keep his emotions in check. Maybe, if the Lord allowed, he would be able to gently nudge the congregation into changing its views on such matters. But even he knew that was foolishness. A people set in their way will not easily sway.

Even so, he hoped he could at least be an encouragement to the girl before him. She deserved that much.

Unbeknownst to either of them, something changed between the pair that morning, as they stood on that porch. A bond had started to blossom, just barely beginning to take root in the rich soil. And it would soon flourish into so much more than they ever could imagine.

Until then, they remained in a delicate push and pull, only just getting to know the other. Bob welcomed her friendship, in a land where he didn’t know anyone, and was trying to find his footing. Maybe he was letting himself become too familiar with her, after only knowing her for a short time, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

He longed to say something more, but the sound of the door opening drew both of their attention elsewhere. There stood the eldest Allen, Zinnia. She greeted the reverend, and while she spoke with him, Fairlight slipped away, intent on making breakfast for the children before she and Bob departed for the day.

As the children awoke, the morning became quite hectic, but soon, they were all occupied with their food. Bob sat at the table with them and spoke to each of them, learning their names.

There was the youngest, Imogen, who was only four. Then there was Isaac, who was six. Then eight-year-old Will, fourteen-year-old Silas, and of course, twenty-year-old Zinnia. Bob took the time to learn something about each of them so he could file it away in his mind to use later as a talking point when he saw them at church on Sundays.

When breakfast was over, he said a prayer over the family, asking God to heal their father, and provide his family with comfort.

Then, the flaxen-haired girl and the preacher were off, wandering out into the warm May morning.

Fairlight knew the roads and trails like the back of her hand, so she had no difficulty leading Bob down the old gravel road, which was so worn down that it could hardly be called gravel anymore.

As they walked, Fairlight was deep in thought, her feet, now covered with a pair of shoes, kicked at random stones along the way. Although the silence was comfortable, Bob could tell she was deep in thought.

“Can I ask you a question?” She finally spoke. A stray rock flew with the momentum from her kick, landing in the nearby woods with a thud.

“Of course,” Bob replied, his hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers. He felt the coolness of his pocket watch, the one from his grandfather, against his fingers.

“I’ve been thinking a lot of Jed Allen, and what happened. And I…I’m wonderin’, why would your God let something like that happen? He’s a husband and a father to six growing kids, who can’t get by without their daddy. Why would He try to take him from them?” As she spoke her words, she feared that maybe she was toeing a line that she wouldn’t be able to come back from.

Bob was taken aback by a specific part of her statement. “My God? Is He not your God, too?” The moment he asked the question, he regretted it, because she shut down.

Her cheeks burned as she shook her head. “I-I spoke wrong, I’m sorry.” She ducked her head and wouldn’t look at him.

So he stopped, shoes crunching against the ground as he did. “Fairlight, wait. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have reacted like that. You just caught me off guard.”

Just ahead of him, she stopped as well. When she said nothing, he continued. “To answer your question, I don’t fully know why He allows these things. Personally, I think He allows them to test a person’s faith. To see how you fare in the day of adversity.”

His answer did nothing to give her peace. In fact, it only deepened the feeling of hopelessness that she’d had for a long time. “I still don’t understand why a God who is supposed to be merciful would allow things like this.”

“Some things aren’t meant for us to understand.” He tried not to let on that he was floundering.

“To answer your question about him being my God, I don’t know. I struggle to have a relationship with Him after everything I’ve seen in these mountains. Life here is brutal sometimes.”

Her reasoning made sense to him. “I’m sorry you feel that way. I understand why you might. But for me, God is all I have. I’ve gotta trust in Him or I don’t have anything else to fall back on.”

But to Fairlight, that seemed more like blind trust. She wondered if the preacher had ever experienced any difficulties in life. If he had, maybe his outlook wouldn’t be so positive. “Do you even know what it’s like to suffer?” She didn’t mean for the accusatory words to come out, but they did anyway, and as soon as they did, she recoiled at her own boldness.

Bob’s shoulders went tense. His face hardened. Gone was the tenderness in those cerulean irises. “Once upon a time I was at death’s door, well on my way to eternal damnation. But then I found Jesus, and He changed my life. Saved me from myself. So don’t you dare assume I haven’t experienced any hardships. Because you have no idea what I’ve gone through.”

But did he really believe the words he spoke? Had he found Jesus, or had he simply found religion, and a way to ease his mother’s worries? Either way, he knew he was no longer the person he was before, and that was all that mattered.

“I’m sorry,” Fairlight whispered.

Bob softened. “It’s okay. I guess I got a little too hot under the collar. I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just…I’ve been through a lot these last few years and now I feel like I’ve finally found some semblance of peace.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you found peace. I’m still lookin’ for it myself.” She envied him, and wished she could find it in herself to put blind faith in the Almighty. It would make life much simpler. But she wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to do that.

“And I pray you find it,” the preacher said.

The conversation drifted off into silence, and the pair resumed their walk, deciding it best to move on from the subject. There would be time to revisit it later, if need be. Until then, Fairlight much preferred not to think about her feelings about the Almighty, and about religion. Facing her feelings was a difficult pill to swallow. And she could only imagine the way her father would react if he found out she was questioning everything he’d taught her.

No, she couldn’t speak of those things to anyone else. Bob had to remain the only one privy to them.

That conversation they had on the road was tucked away in their minds, forgotten as the week began to pick up speed. It wasn’t long before Sunday was quickly approaching, and along with it, a crushing anxiety that had begun to pressurize within Bob’s chest.

He had been poring over his prepared sermon for three days. He spent most of those days at the river near the Mackall property, seated on a larger rock on the riverbank, his Bible open in his lap as he whispered prayers, asking the Lord to give him wisdom.

He enjoyed solitude during those days. On the third day, however, a welcome distraction came in the form of Fairlight approaching with a basketful of lunch she had prepared for him. It was Saturday, the day before he was to give his very first sermon in Backforty Gap. His nervousness was palpable. But Fairlight didn’t judge him for it.

“Made y’ some tomato sandwiches with the tomatoes from my garden,” she said with a smile as she handed him one of the sandwiches, wrapped in a piece of cheesecloth.

Bob smiled gratefully. “Thank you, I really appreciate it. Was just thinking about how my stomach wouldn’t stop growling and interrupting my prayers,” he said with an airy laugh.

“You’re welcome, Preacher,” she replied.

As he began on his lunch, he watched as Fairlight stepped forward, her perpetually bare feet dipping into the edge of the water. She was quiet for a moment as she gazed upon the water. But soon, she broke the silence. “You’ll do just fine tomorrow, I know it.”

He looked at her for a moment. He felt comfortable enough to be honest with her. The last few days, ever since the moment they shared on the walk home, a comradeship had begun to develop, and they found themselves talking to one another more and more.

“I sure hope so. I can do all things through Christ.”

“Who strengtheneth me,” she finished. Even if she was unsure of her beliefs, she still knew the Scriptures from cover to cover. She turned, looking over her shoulder at Bob. The wind blew strands of hair from her braid, sending the tendrils around her kind face. “I reckon I should warn you about some congregation members while I’m at it.”

Bob raised a brow. “Oh?”

The women nodded. “Mm. Mainly, you should watch out for Verity McNeal. She’s the church busybody. And she will suck up to you like a leech. She’ll want to be in charge of all ministry social events. And she doesn’t like to take no for an answer.”

The reverend nodded, swallowing his bite of sandwich before replying. “Noted,” he said. “Anyone else?”

“Yeah, there’s a man named Hawk Neiman. He’s not a church-going man, but I know he’ll probably be curious about the new preacher. He’s mean as a snake, especially when he’s drunk. He doesn’t take too kindly to newcomers here. So, just be warned.”

Bob appreciated her warnings. It gave him an idea of what to expect. But it did nothing to quell his anxiety. He wondered just how he was going to handle these people. However, it didn’t matter. It was all in the Lord’s hands.

Come Sunday, he’d learn exactly why she’d chosen to warn him.

And Sunday most certainly did come. He was awake bright and early, much too anxious for what was to come. He said his prayers, dressed in his Sunday best, which was a plain brown suit he’d found at a thrift store because he hadn’t had enough money for a new one.

He gazed at himself in the tiny mirror hanging from the wall. Did he look presentable? Did he look like a man of God? When he gazed upon his face, all he saw was a boy. Lost, afraid, lying to himself by trying to insist that everything was going to work out just fine.

But he wasn’t alone, for in the house nearby, Fairlight was in her bedroom, dressing for church. Or, rather, kneeling in the middle of the floor, frustrated because she couldn’t find a thing to wear. She didn’t have much at all. A few plain dresses for everyday, two Sunday dresses, one pair of good shoes, and one pair of everyday shoes.

But she did know where a few other, nicer, dresses were stored. In her father’s room was a wardrobe, entirely untouched, filled with women’s clothing. Her mother’s clothing. Montgomery had forbidden Fairlight from wearing any of the dresses, but today, she was going to break that rule.

Her father wouldn’t like it, but she was hardly thinking of the consequences. She supposed all she really was thinking about was her own vanity. Why did she even want to dress up in such a way for Sunday service? She’d never felt the desire to before.

But deep down, she knew why. There was a certain young preacher who would stand before the congregation that day. Foolishly, she wanted to impress him. She knew it was the wrong mindset to have, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care as she crept across the hall and into Mont’s room.

She opened the old wooden wardrobe, revealing the array of dresses. Running her fingers delicately over each one, she finally decided on a pale pink dress, one that would compliment her hair and complexion. Then, she scurried back to her room, and began the process of readying herself for church.

Soon, she stood before the small mirror that sat upon her dresser, admiring her outfit. It fit like a glove, and left just enough to the imagination to still be considered modest for church. She couldn’t help but beam. With her hair falling loosely down her back, she felt beautiful.

Her smile didn’t leave her face as she descended the stairs, floating as if she were on a cloud. At that same moment, the reverend was just stepping into the house, ready and waiting for the Mackall duo so they could all head to church together.

He lifted his head as he walked through the door, eyes widening as he saw Fairlight coming toward him. Suddenly, couldn’t find the words under his tongue. She looked like a vision in a sweet pink dress, her hair framing her face.

She smiled warmly at him as she stepped from the last stair. Bob hesitated, considering whether or not he should compliment her beauty. He knew it was highly inappropriate for him to do, but he found himself saying the words before he could stop himself. “You look lovely.”

The apples of her cheeks went pink. “O-oh, um, thank you,” she said in reply.

But the delicate moment was soon interrupted as Mont walked into the house, screen door slamming shut behind him, his boots scraping loudly against the wooden floor as he made a beeline for the wash basin in the kitchen.

He hadn’t yet noticed Fairlight’s attire as he pumped the water with the manual pump, scrubbing down his dirt-marred hands. “Be ready to go in a minute,” he announced over his shoulder.

“We’ll just go ahead and get in the truck,” Fairlight quickly said, hoping to get out the door before he turned and looked at her.

But it was too late. He turned around, wiping his hands down with a cloth. And then he stopped. Intense blue eyes looked her up and down, and his gaze hardened. “What are you wearing, girl?” He demanded.

She blanched, and Bob noticed it. “J-just one of Mama’s old dresses,” she replied. She no longer felt the boldness she had before.

“You know you ain’t supposed to be wearing that. What’s the matter with you?”

“Daddy, please,” she said, her voice wavering.

Bob was floundering beside her, unsure of what to do. She looked to be on the verge of tears, and the sight sent an ache through his chest.

“Go back upstairs and change. Now.”

“I don’t see the problem with her w-”

“This ain’t your concern, Preacher. I’ll handle my own daughter. Why don’t you wait outside?”

But Fairlight shot Bob a look. Please don’t leave me. So he didn’t.

“There’s no reason I can’t wear her clothes. She’s been gone fifteen years!” Fairlight tried to reason.

“I said go CHANGE! Or I’ll rip that dress off of you myself!” He bellowed.

Bob watched in horror as her stormy eyes welled with tears, and seconds later, she spun on her heel, rushing back up the stairs, sobbing as she went. Shocked, he looked at Montgomery. The man was heaving with an unfounded rage.

With a groan, he pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a few deep breaths to steady himself. “I told you to wait outside. But I sure am sorry about that, Preacher. I’ve got no patience for acts of rebellion.”

Bob bit the inside of his cheek, willing himself to remain calm. “A soft answer turneth away wrath, but grievous words stir up anger,” he quoted from the fifteenth chapter of Proverbs, staring pointedly at the man before him. “I know it’s not my place, but your daughter isn’t a little girl anymore. She should be allowed to make decisions for herself.”

Mont squared his shoulders. “I’d appreciate it if you stayed outta my family’s business and stuck to preachin’.” Then, he walked away, leaving Bob reeling.

He couldn’t believe what he’d just witnessed. He longed to check on Fairlight, but he didn’t dare cause any more problems, so he slipped out the front door instead, opting to wait outside. This situation was more dire than he’d even realized. What respect he had for Mont, was now gone.

But there was no time to dwell on it. A few moments later, Fairlight came through the door, now dressed in a plain gray dress, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. Bob tried to reach out to her, but she shook her head and simply climbed into the truck bed, taking a seat with her back toward him.

The preacher sighed softly and decided to climb into the passenger side. Soon, Mont was climbing into the driver’s seat, and then, they were off to church. Both men were silent as they went along, neither desiring to speak to the other. What a way to start his first Sunday as pastor.

When they pulled into the tiny gravel parking lot, which could hardly be considered as such, Bob was quick to jump out of the truck first, eager to put space between him and Mont. He whispered a prayer to the Lord, asking Him to calm his spirit and help him focus on his ministerial duties.

He pushed the argument to the back of his mind and put on the mask of the God-fearing preacher, preparing himself to greet congregation members. It wasn’t long before the first family arrived. He dutifully greeted them, introducing himself and informing them that he was eager to take on the helm of their new pastor.

The Allen family showed up, sans Jed, who was still recovering from his injury earlier in the week. The children were happy to see Bob again, and he greeted them with a smile and told them to find a seat wherever they liked.

Then, there was Verity McNeal, the woman Fairlight had warned him about. And oh, had she been right about her. She was incredibly forward, shaking Bob’s hand with vigor. “Reverend Floyd! So nice to finally meet you! You are a Godsend to our people! We’ve been lost little sheep with no shepherd this whole time. The Lord has sent us our shepherd at last!”

“Oh, I’m just following wherever He leads me, ma’am,” Bob replied with a smile. Her hands were still clasping his. Her sharp green eyes unnerved him.

“Well if you need anything, anything at all, don’t hesitate to ask! I just live half a mile up the road, go south and my trailer is on the left. You can’t miss it! I’d love to meet with you and discuss your plans for the ministry!”

And then she was flouncing away, leaving Bob a little flabbergasted. However, the time to start the service was quickly approaching. So, he decided to make his way up to the pulpit to prepare.

He could feel everyone’s eyes on him as he walked. He knew they were silently judging him, wondering if he would be everything they hoped he would be. He didn’t expect them to accept him right away, but he was willing to wait patiently for them to do so.

Finally, he turned on his heel to face them all, and he offered a warm smile. He couldn’t help but let his gaze shift to Fairlight momentarily, who sat on the front row beside Montgomery. She did not return his smile.

“Good morning. I’m your new preacher, Robert Floyd. It’s a pleasure to stand before you this morning. I’m really looking forward to getting to know you all, and leading this flock God has given me.”

There were some echoes of good morning, nodding of heads, hummed responses. He took that as his cue to continue. “I’m from Indiana, born and raised. My mama raised me to fear the Lord and took me to church every Sunday.”

He continued on, recounting some more details, such as what seminary he graduated from. He got the sense the people didn’t care about that. They were just glad to have a preacher to replace the old one.

“Well, enough about me. Let’s get on to the Good Book, shall we?”

And so, his first sermon in a new land had begun.

But he barely got ten minutes into it before all of the sudden, the church doors swung open, echoing through the quiet room. Bob trailed off, a little surprised. His eyes flickered to the back, where a lone man stood.

He wasn’t very tall, but he had an intimidating air about him. His eyes were hard-set and calculating. A full beard covered the lower portion of his face. He was every bit a mountain man as they came.

Bob knew who he was instantly. “Good morning, Hawk. I was told you might join our service today.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Just came to see what all the fuss is about. Y’ don’t look like much.”

Bob ignored his insult. “You’re free to stay and listen to the sermon, if you like,” he said.

Hawk mumbled something unintelligible and then took a seat on one of the old wooden benches. Then, the preacher cleared his throat, and continued like nothing had even happened. The people marveled silently to themselves. If he was unphased by Hawk Neiman, maybe there was hope for him yet.

After the initial interruption, the rest of the service went on without a hitch. Bob preached about loving thy neighbor, which he thought was a safe subject for his first sermon. He could focus on more hard-hitting topics later on, after he was established.

Before long, the church hour came to a close, and he dismissed the congregation with a prayer. Afterward, he found himself standing at the door, bidding goodbye to each member as they left.

“Beautiful sermon, Reverend!” Verity gushed, nearly scaring the daylights out of him when she popped up out of nowhere. “The Almighty really spoke through you!”

“Oh! Uh, tha-thank you. Praise the Lord,” he graciously responded.

She babbled on about some church event coming up, but Bob found himself tuning her out when he caught sight of Fairlight, walking out through the church doors.

“Yes, that all sounds wonderful. I’ll be in touch with you!” He said to Verity before he slipped away from her, intending to talk to pale-eyed girl.

But then he saw her father was right behind her, and he thought against it. That didn’t stop Mont from catching him, however.

“Great sermon, Preacher,” the man said, as he shook Bob’s hand firmly. Then, he hesitated a beat before he said, “about earlier. Would you be willin’ to agree to let bygones be bygones?”

Bob didn’t think he could let bygones be, but for the sake of civility, he nodded. The Lord did command His children to forgive, after all.

“Now that your first service is out of the way, is there anything you need? Any supplies or help or anything like that?” Mont offered, as if everything was peachy keen.

The reverend almost declined, but then, he thought of something. “Actually…I was thinking, with all I have to do, it may be a little difficult for me to keep up with making sure the church is clean and ready for Sundays. Do you happen to know of anyone who’d be willing to help?”

Mont nodded, and without hesitation, he said, “Fairlight’ll do it.” He didn’t give her a moment to think about it, or answer on her own.

Oh, um, are you sure?” Bob questioned, directing it at Fairlight.

She opened her mouth to speak, but her father cut her off. “She’ll be fine, she’s used to cleaning. It’s what she’s good at. She can start tomorrow, if that’s alright with you.”

“Y-yes, that’s fine,” the reverend answered, taken aback.

“Then it’s settled. Now let’s get home.” Abruptly, Mont turned to head to the truck.

Bob fell into step beside Fairlight, waiting until her father was out of earshot to speak. “He shouldn’t have spoken for you like that. You don’t have to help me if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s better that I don’t shake the hornet’s nest any more than I already have. I’ll be here tomorrow to do the job.”

“Fairlight, you deserve to be able to make your own decisions. He shouldn’t just decide things for you.”

“Preacher, just leave it.”

“But-”

“Bob, please. There are things you just…don’t understand. It’s best I do what he says.” And with that, she ducked away, making her way to the bed of the truck, leaving Bob staring after her.

He only came back to himself when Mont asked if he was riding home with them. “Actually…I think I’ll walk. Need some time alone.”

“Suit yourself.”

He watched the truck head off in the distance, and he breathed a deep sigh, his chest aching from all that had taken place that day.

His heart bled for Fairlight. He hadn’t realized just how controlling her father was until now. He imagined how trapped she must feel, and he understood why she was questioning everything she’d been taught. If he had a father like that, he would question everything the man taught him, too.

She had no say in many aspects of her life. As long as she was under Montgomery’s thumb, she could never be her own woman. Bob thought that it was a terrible tragedy.

And as he turned to close up the church for the day, he was struck with stark realization. Here he was, thinking he’d been led here to minister to the poor people of Backforty Gap.

But now he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it wasn’t for them. It was for her. He had been called to this little mountain holler to watch over the flaxen-haired girl with the stormy eyes.

And watch over her, he would.

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