Father Montgomery didn’t ask any questions as he shepherded Cyn inside the rectory, other than if she needed immediate medical attention. When she told him no, he handed her a fluffy white towel, pointed her in the direction of the bathroom, and gave her privacy while she cleaned up.
Cyn stared at the wall of water, watching dirt run down in tiny brown rivers and circle round the drain as her fingers grew wrinkly in the shower. What if he can’t help me?
She wanted to tell Father Montgomery about the cuts on her arm, what she’d done to the baby deer, and how she’d found herself on the edge of the cliff. But she didn’t want to talk about Hunter. And he was a pretty big part of it all.
“Whenever you’re ready I have some nice hot coffee brewing,” Father Montgomery called politely when he heard the water shut off. “And you’ll find a set of clothes on the bed in the spare room.”
Cyn dried off and found the oversize sweats and faded black and white flannel shirt in the room next door. The pants were too big—she had to double knot the drawstring in order to keep them from falling down—but she didn’t mind.
Her wig was a complete disaster. There wasn’t much she could do for it, though, so she just finger combed it and then pulled it on. Father Montgomery was waiting for her down in the kitchen. He had an open Bible beside him on the table but was looking out the window at a squirrel climbing a tree.
“I love watching squirrels,” he said. “I know people think they’re pests, but God has a plan for them. The nuts they bury will grow into trees, providing life and oxygen and nourishment for our planet. What can seem bothersome to one might just have a different purpose for another.”
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that he was alluding to her troubles.
“Father Montgomery, I can’t begin to tell you how much I appreciate this,” Cyn said slowly. “I know this must seem incredibly strange, me just showing up out of the blue like this, covered in mud. But I can’t ask you to—”
“Forgive my interruption, but you aren’t asking me to do anything that God has not asked of me. We were put on this earth to help our fellow man, and that includes times of trouble and need. I don’t want to presume, but based on our previous conversations, you haven’t mentioned any family. . . .”
“I’m not close to them.”
“Then, please, let the church help you. Whether you need a place to stay, some clothes to wear, or just a warm meal and a shoulder to lean on. And if it’s something more than that, you can tell me. I made a solemn vow before God and man not to reveal anything that is shared in confidence.”
For a moment, Cyn could almost see everything play out in front of her. To finally belong somewhere as she confessed her secrets and was forgiven for her sins. But then reality came crashing in.
Although God might be forgiving, the State of New York wouldn’t be. Especially when it came to murder.
“I don’t think . . .” She shook her head but couldn’t finish.
“You can trust me,” he said, leaning forward earnestly. “Nothing is unforgivable as long as your heart is in the right place.”
The defeated look in Cyn’s eyes tugged at Father Montgomery’s heart. She was so young, and so full of hurt.
“You know,” he said, “once I found myself in a difficult situation. I was introduced to someone who, like you, didn’t have a support system in his life.” Thoughts of the early years with Avian made him smile. “Several people in my congregation questioned whether it was right of me to accept this young man into my care. He was troubled, and they thought he might lead me astray.”
Cyn ran her pinky around the edge of her coffee cup as she listened.
“He had an unconventional background, and very little interaction with people who didn’t want to take advantage of him, so this made him highly suspicious of me. But over time we came to trust each other and rely on each other, and to this day he is one of the best souls that I have ever known.”
“He’s not six feet tall and angry looking, is he?” she said sarcastically, thinking about the night she’d first come to try and speak to Father Montgomery and had been rudely rebuffed.
Father Montgomery chuckled. “Avian can be a bit protective, but he has a good heart.”
Cyn glanced out the window. Father Montgomery couldn’t help her. He was talking about raising wayward boys with attitude problems. Not murder and suicide attempts and cruelty to animals.
Cyn felt her stomach pitch again at the thought of that poor deer. I have to get out of here.
“Thank you for your kindness, Father Montgomery.” She stood, leaving her full mug on the table. “I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know.”
He saw that she wasn’t going to say anything more, so he reached for her hand and patted it. “I understand. And my door is open to you day or night when you are ready.” He pulled a rosary out of his pocket and passed it to her. “Just as a reminder that you are never alone.”
Cyn smiled sadly at him but took his gift. “That’s the problem in a nutshell, Father. I’m not alone.”