Father Briar and The Angel Read Online Free PDF Page B
Author: Rita Saladano
from the ice
piled up like a giant snow cone and she wondered if it would taste
as delicious.
“ Three feet of ice!”
Cedric panted. The effort had left him perspiring despite the
cold.
Julianna, too, was toasty
under her t-shirt, turtleneck, sweater, flannel button up, hooded
sweatshirt and down parka. “And that is just on my top half,” she’d
joked, “there are a dozen more layers on the bottom!”
“ Which is too bad,” Cedric
thought, “because an icehouse is a surprisingly romantic
place.”
That was true. The
pot-bellied stove burned pine logs which crackled and popped with
comfort and regularity. Their little “lodge” was fashioned out of
an improvised mish-mash of chipboard wood and rusted iron, in the
depths of winter the cabin had a rustic charm. It could only fit
two people within its cute, hand-fashioned walls, which weren’t
perfect at retaining heat but the privacy was perfect for
blossoming romances.
It was cozy, and it was
sexy. Julianna would not entertain such thoughts for the time
being, her eyes were fixed on the hole carved in the lake. Cedric
had prepared his fishing gear; a line, a hook and a heaping handful
of wriggling earthworms to tempt to sleepy walleyed pike out of
their mid-winter sluggishness.
He was devoted to both his
faith and his sense of duty for his beloved America; a man of god
and patriot. The Jesuits had provided him with the independence,
skills, and rigorous education to enable such self-sufficiency. He
was somewhat content with that, but only somewhat.
“ We’ll leave this here,
Jewels” said Cedric as he tied the line to a peg he’d drilled into
the ice. Only Cedric could get away with referring to Julianna as
Jewels; he had a special place in her heart.
“ God willing, this line
will have a mighty walleye on the end of it by the time we return,”
Cedric smiled.
“ How long will this take?”
Julianna wondered.
“ This is a game of
patience, to be sure. “ Cedric rustled his hands together and
donned his gloves. “Let’s take a walk on the lake!”
Julianna enjoyed making the
most use of the sunlight in the cold wintry days, for it lifted her
mood and she enjoyed the long shadows it casted over the powdery
white landscape. Brannaska was a magical place to be in during this
time of year, if you could stand it, so she agreed to the walk.
That she was walking on ice frightened her, though.
“ What an appropriate
metaphor,” she thought ruefully. “Even when I find a great man to
walk through life with, circumstances conspire against us so I can
never be on safe ground.”
“ You really do get to see
the splendor of God’s panorama out here,” Cedric said, motioning to
the view spread out before them.
The colors were so vibrant
as to seem unnatural. “Or actually,” Julianna said, “completely
natural. Like fruits, like the Platonic ideal of a fruit. Banana
yellows and apple reds and grape purples. So rich that I think they
were from the hand of some painter.”
“ Raphael used those sorts
of colors,” he said. “I saw them in the Vatican when I went there
right after the war on a tourist visit. “He painted with a
hyper-saturated palate to give a heightened sense of realism. He
did this so he could better glorify God.”
“ The wind is a bit raw,
though,” she couldn’t help but comment.
“ You betcha it is,” he
said, using a bit of the local lingo he’d picked up in his limited
time there. She giggled. He had a sly way of being funny; never
mocking, but a sideways appreciation of things that made her
believe he always knew a little secret about the world that nobody
else was in on.
He certainly carried
himself as though he did. Despite his unremarkable body, there was
lightness in his step and a gentle bigness to his heart that made
him very attractive. There was nothing that screamed “look at me”
about him, but then if there had been, she assumed, their
relationship would’ve been discovered at its outset.
A snow
piled up like a giant snow cone and she wondered if it would taste
as delicious.
“ Three feet of ice!”
Cedric panted. The effort had left him perspiring despite the
cold.
Julianna, too, was toasty
under her t-shirt, turtleneck, sweater, flannel button up, hooded
sweatshirt and down parka. “And that is just on my top half,” she’d
joked, “there are a dozen more layers on the bottom!”
“ Which is too bad,” Cedric
thought, “because an icehouse is a surprisingly romantic
place.”
That was true. The
pot-bellied stove burned pine logs which crackled and popped with
comfort and regularity. Their little “lodge” was fashioned out of
an improvised mish-mash of chipboard wood and rusted iron, in the
depths of winter the cabin had a rustic charm. It could only fit
two people within its cute, hand-fashioned walls, which weren’t
perfect at retaining heat but the privacy was perfect for
blossoming romances.
It was cozy, and it was
sexy. Julianna would not entertain such thoughts for the time
being, her eyes were fixed on the hole carved in the lake. Cedric
had prepared his fishing gear; a line, a hook and a heaping handful
of wriggling earthworms to tempt to sleepy walleyed pike out of
their mid-winter sluggishness.
He was devoted to both his
faith and his sense of duty for his beloved America; a man of god
and patriot. The Jesuits had provided him with the independence,
skills, and rigorous education to enable such self-sufficiency. He
was somewhat content with that, but only somewhat.
“ We’ll leave this here,
Jewels” said Cedric as he tied the line to a peg he’d drilled into
the ice. Only Cedric could get away with referring to Julianna as
Jewels; he had a special place in her heart.
“ God willing, this line
will have a mighty walleye on the end of it by the time we return,”
Cedric smiled.
“ How long will this take?”
Julianna wondered.
“ This is a game of
patience, to be sure. “ Cedric rustled his hands together and
donned his gloves. “Let’s take a walk on the lake!”
Julianna enjoyed making the
most use of the sunlight in the cold wintry days, for it lifted her
mood and she enjoyed the long shadows it casted over the powdery
white landscape. Brannaska was a magical place to be in during this
time of year, if you could stand it, so she agreed to the walk.
That she was walking on ice frightened her, though.
“ What an appropriate
metaphor,” she thought ruefully. “Even when I find a great man to
walk through life with, circumstances conspire against us so I can
never be on safe ground.”
“ You really do get to see
the splendor of God’s panorama out here,” Cedric said, motioning to
the view spread out before them.
The colors were so vibrant
as to seem unnatural. “Or actually,” Julianna said, “completely
natural. Like fruits, like the Platonic ideal of a fruit. Banana
yellows and apple reds and grape purples. So rich that I think they
were from the hand of some painter.”
“ Raphael used those sorts
of colors,” he said. “I saw them in the Vatican when I went there
right after the war on a tourist visit. “He painted with a
hyper-saturated palate to give a heightened sense of realism. He
did this so he could better glorify God.”
“ The wind is a bit raw,
though,” she couldn’t help but comment.
“ You betcha it is,” he
said, using a bit of the local lingo he’d picked up in his limited
time there. She giggled. He had a sly way of being funny; never
mocking, but a sideways appreciation of things that made her
believe he always knew a little secret about the world that nobody
else was in on.
He certainly carried
himself as though he did. Despite his unremarkable body, there was
lightness in his step and a gentle bigness to his heart that made
him very attractive. There was nothing that screamed “look at me”
about him, but then if there had been, she assumed, their
relationship would’ve been discovered at its outset.
A snow