And then the phone rang. Oh, geez!
He didn’t move, so I walked over to the nightstand where it lay and peeked at the caller ID. My heart leaped and my fingers fumbled to pick it up and press the green button.
“Hello?” I said.
“Miss Whitt? It’s Sister Emily.”
“Is she awake?”
“I’m so sorry, dear. Sister Ruth has gone to be with the Lord.”
What?! My stomach plummeted and I sat hard on the bed, a profound sense of loss inundating my soul.
“No,” I whispered.
“I’m afraid so. Several years ago she had a will drawn up, and she left everything to you. I’ve gone through her personal effects and there was only one thing besides her clothing and her Bible. A small box. Can you come to the convent?”
“Yes. I’ll be right there.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
GETTING ZAPPED
Nestled within the big city was the small convent, quaint and hidden among a border of evergreens, overshadowed by the larger orphanage next to it. It wasn’t the kind of place that would attract interest from tourists. It would go easily unnoticed by most locals, too.
Kaidan pulled the car through the open gate. Past the trees and a small lawn was a simple, two-story faded brick building, overrun on the sides by vines. We parked in a gravel area and looked at the building. I remembered it, only without as many vines.
We’d been silent the entire ride. I wished I could somehow ease the tension between us, but it had to run its course. Things had shifted tonight. In a big way.
“I’ll wait here,” Kaidan told me. I got out and made my way to the entrance on a cracked concrete walkway. The early evening air was still hot, but made bearable by the sweetness of honeysuckle in the air.
At the door, I read the small placard: convent of our mother mary. I pulled up on the heavy brass knocker and let it fall three times. A young nun answered wearing a long-sleeved flowered dress falling below her knees, with white tights and sandals. Her hair was pulled into a bun, and a crucifix hung around her neck.
The sister touched a hand to her heart. A thin stream of navy blue grief ran through the lavender peace in her aura. “You must be Anna. Thank you so much for coming.”
She invited me into the foyer area and gave me a warm hug, which I needed, even from a stranger. As she left to retrieve the box, I looked around the creamy walls of the foyer and felt comforted. I could remember being there in Patti’s arms as she said good-bye to Sister Ruth sixteen years ago. There was still a fountain against the wall, trickling a stream of water like a rush of nostalgia.
The young nun came down the wooden steps and handed me a small box. It was over a foot in length and sealed with layers of tape.
“Thank you for everything,” I told her.
“You’re welcome, dear.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to meet Sister Ruth. She was the most precious soul I’ve ever known.”
“I’m sorry, too.”
She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief, and I felt the huge regret of loss as we hugged one last time and I turned to leave.
Sister Ruth was gone, and with her went whatever knowledge she’d held. Kaidan didn’t glance at me when I climbed back in with the box on my lap. He made a fast turn and exited the lot, kicking up gravel. His mood hadn’t improved.
I wanted him to say something. I ran my fingers along the taped edges of the box, sorting through a list of meaningless topics that could fill the space between us. Sister Ruth’s death only deepened the void.
When we got back to the hotel, we walked to the room together. I climbed on my bed and sat with the box on my lap. I looked up at Kaidan, who was half sitting, half leaning on the table across from me with his arms crossed and his eyes far away in thought.
“May I use one of your knives?” I asked.
“Here, let me.” He sat across from me and pulled out a knife, slicing around the edges. I opened the cardboard flap. Inside was a wooden box so old and smooth that the wood looked petrified. I pulled it out and set the cardboard box on the floor. A small gold clasp held the lid shut. I undid the clasp and lifted the lid. At first I couldn’t process what I was seeing. It was made of silver... no, maybe it was gold... no... What was it? It glimmered with a range of metallic colors from bronze to platinum, as if it were alive.
“Is that a sword hilt?” I asked. Just looking at it frightened me. “What’s it made of?”
Kaidan was leaning toward it and staring with rapt disbelief.
“May I?” he asked, gesturing toward it.
“Go ahead.”
He gingerly picked it up and cradled it in his hand, turning it from side to side. The metal shimmered like nothing I’d ever seen.