Eve held on to Anthony’s arm as the two walked back to the community from Monastery Lake. He carried the empty urn with his other hand. They were returning from having dispersed Kelly’s ashes on the trail the two siblings had hiked together on many occasions. He explained to Eve that she had told him once it was the most beautiful place she had ever visited, and the friends agreed that it seemed appropriate for her remains to be scattered there.
“I’ll be able to visit her every day,” he said, taking small steps so that Eve wouldn’t have to walk too fast.
“That’s nice for you,” she replied.
It had been a couple of months since the murder and a couple of months since both of them had been released from the hospital, Anthony back to the monastery, Eve to Madrid, her father’s home. Since the accident the archbishop had given her more time to decide which convent she wanted to join, more time to decide what she was going to do.
“I miss this place,” she said as they ambled along, both of them slowed by their sorrow.
“It’s wrong what they did to you and the other sisters, Evangeline. I never told you, but the brothers wrote a petition and sent it to Rome. Some of us even considered leaving too. We all thought it was wrong. All of us have been deeply bothered by this decision.”
Eve nodded. She had heard about their responses; she knew about the petition.
“We were a family,” he added.
“So we were,” she replied. “But sometimes families don’t stay together; sometimes they have to leave the nest and make new families.” She was thinking about the time she left her parents to take her vows. It had been an exciting time but a sad one too.
She leaned into him as they took the small steps.
“The bench is just up there. Do you want to stop and rest?” he asked, the concern evident in his voice.
Eve nodded, feeling like she could use a break. The recovery from the surgeries was harder and taking longer than she’d expected. She was still limping a bit, and her shoulder often ached.
They walked the short distance in silence and both sat down on the long wooden bench. It had been built and placed on the trail years before when several members of the community were aging and having a more difficult time walking the path from the lake to the monastery.
“Pierce has been sent to the prison in Santa Fe,” Anthony noted.
“I hadn’t heard his final sentencing,” Eve responded. “I guess I thought they’d put him in a Texas facility since that’s where he’s from.”
“He doesn’t have anybody to visit him in Texas, so I suppose he didn’t make any special requests.”
“Does he have anybody to visit him in New Mexico?” She turned to get a good look at the monk. She had a feeling she understood why he was telling her this news.
“I will never completely get over the grief of losing my sister.” He paused. “I believe that I can be released from some of the pain of Kelly’s death, but that release will come only through forgiveness,” he explained. “I am working on letting go of my anger, and I’m quite sure that visiting her killer is the only way I will be fully able to offer forgiveness to Dr. Pierce and to myself.”
Eve nodded. She hated the thought of her friend’s sorrow and pain, but she, too, agreed that bearing anger and resentment did not lead to healing. She and her father had discussed this topic already when he argued with her about her plans to one day make her own visit to see Pierce. She had tried to get him to understand that she had to offer the gift of forgiveness to the man who had hit her and then left her to die. She had tried to explain that a visit to see the prisoner was necessary for her to find healing.
“That’s good news for me too,” she said to Anthony.
He smiled, understanding that she would be visiting the man as well.
“Does that mean you aren’t moving to one of the other convents? Does that mean you’re staying here?”
Eve looked out over the recently plowed field beyond the walking path. The monastery leased the land to farmers. Hay had been planted and harvested in that field for as long as the monastery had been in existence. That was one of the other reasons she had loved and now missed the monastery. It was a working farm. It was how she had always envisioned her life in a religious community.
“I wish I knew the answer to that, my brother.” She shook her head. “I have prayed and sought guidance. I have lit candles and asked for intercessory prayers.” She reached over and took the monk by the hand, knowing that he had been praying for her as well. “I even asked Sister Maria to give me another sign, something clear for me to follow, blue flowers in a field or something similar, but there’s been nothing. I think it comes down to what I feel in my own heart, what is right for me, and I still don’t really know what that is.”
“Sister Cathy went to Roswell,” he said, uncertain if Eve knew the whereabouts of the other nuns who had left Pecos.
“The Poor Clares,” Eve responded. “I know.” She blew out a long breath. “She invited me to visit, spend some time with her, but I don’t think I could take that kind of cloistering,” she added. “I need to be out in the world a little more. And they like to get up to pray at one o’clock in the morning or something ridiculous like that.”
Anthony laughed. “I think she had to change her name and she’s actually considered a novice again.”
“Sister Paul, if you can believe that,” Eve replied, having heard the news of her sister. She shook her head. “I have to say this denial of the feminine as a part of our religious tradition has become very difficult for me. That’s part of the reason I’m having trouble making the decision to stay a nun.”
“It’s never been easy for women in the church, that’s for sure,” Anthony agreed. “Maria and the Inquisition, Joan of Arc burned at the stake, the refusal to allow them to become priests. I have to say I’m really surprised women stay in the religious life.”
“Kind of like the Native Americans,” Eve said. “I’ve always wondered why they remained Catholic after the Spaniards were so cruel to them.
“Did you know it was the Jumanos who were said to have ambushed a party of Spaniards near Gran Quivira and that the retaliation included the killing of nine hundred people and the taking of almost four hundred more as prisoners, more than likely sold into slavery?” While recovering from her injuries, she had been reading more of the history of the Pueblo Indians in the area.
“And yet, after Sister Maria visited them they wanted to be baptized as Catholics. And all of the Pueblos are still Catholic.” Eve leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “It’s amazing to me.”
A crow flew above their heads and perched on a limb of a tree close by. They both watched the bird in silence.
“Do you like solving mysteries, finding missing persons? Do you like working for your father?” Anthony wanted to know.
Eve thought about the question. “I do, actually.”
The monk nodded. “You’re good at it,” he said.
Eve smiled. “Thank you, Anthony.”
“You know that you don’t have to be a nun, wear the habit, live in community, take all the vows to be devoted to our Lord.”
“I know,” she agreed.
“And sometimes nuns and priests and monks choose a different path later in their lives. It doesn’t mean they broke their vows or left the order, as people usually describe it. It could mean that, I guess, but it could also mean that their paths moved them in different directions. It could mean they received guidance leading them into new areas of service.”
She nodded. “Yes, that’s true.”
Anthony bumped into Eve, a familial show of affection. “And you’ll always be my big sister, whether you’re wearing a long black robe, chanting and praying, or a leather jacket and cowboy boots, catching killers.”
Eve put her arm around the young monk. “And you will always be my little brother,” she said, giving him a hug. “Always.”