The Last Broken Promise Read Online Free PDF Page A

he was being incredibly patient. “The Bible says, let your yes be yes, and your no be no.”
    “But that’s so boring,” she huffed softly, hoping he wouldn’t hear her, but he did.
    “If you find the restricted life of the convent boring, you should not attempt to take up Holy Orders.” This was his chance. This was his golden opportunity to sway her away from becoming a nun.
    “But Father, I have told you many times God has impressed upon me that he has a special plan for my life.” Jess was not going to give up so easily. “And the most special, holy thing I can imagine is becoming a nun. I want to surrender my life totally to God.”
    “Daughter, you have told me this too many times. But you do realize God has a special, holy plan for every person’s life? Psalm One Hundred Thirty-Nine tells about His special plans for us all. I encourage you to read it, my child, again.”
    “But Father Thomas, I want to give my life to God,” Jess persisted.
    Father Thomas rose to leave the booth. “Jessamine, everyone should give their life to God. But one doesn’t have to be a nun or a priest or a monk, or a preacher to do that. Now, enough for today. It’s almost supper time.”
    She tried to stop him as he left the confessional. The rotund priest ignored her. He started down the aisle to leave the building,
    “But what about my penance?” she wailed.
    Without turning around, he answered, “Memorize Psalm One Thirty-Nine.”
    Father Thomas shoved his arms into his cassock as he marched along the walk to Mother Marguerite Marie’s private chambers. A brisk, late summer wind played with the hem of his gown. His feet crunched across the layer of dead leaves littering the walk. Indian Summer was his favorite time of the year. But he wasn’t enjoying it this year. Not with the problem of Jessamine St. John hanging over his head. As much as she exasperated him, he cared for her. At first, he’d tried not to like her. He’d told himself she was a spoiled, rich little pagan from the Church of England. He was sure once the novelty of Catholicism wore off, she’d be running back to that pale imitation of the true church. But she hadn’t. She’d embraced his religion with fervor. And she’d proven herself to be a hard worker. Ready to do even the filthiest jobs. The thing he liked the most about Jessamine was her pure heart. Very seldom had he seen a person with a truly pure heart. But even with all those things in her favor, Thomas knew she was not destined to be a nun. She was destined to a wife, he was sure of it. And he pitied the man the good Lord picked for her. That particular man would surely have his hands full.
    Now Thomas was on his way to try, one more time, to convince the Mother Superior that young Miss Jessamine St. John needed to leave the convent. The young woman needed to spread her wings. Father Thomas was rather glad he’d be cloistered when she burst upon the world. She’d no doubt shine like a candle in its darkness, with the more than occasional dramatic spark and sputter. But now, he needed to focus on what he would say to Mother Marguerite Marie. It would be the truth, of course, but after all, even the apostles had told the gospels differently. It was all a matter of perception, he nodded, agreeing with himself. He just had to convince Mother Marguerite to see things his way.
    Looking up, he squinted at the pale waning sun. The rose-bricked walk led up to a small neat cottage. This was where Mother Marguerite Marie lived. His fist hesitated for a second at the door. But then with resolve, he rapped sharply on the rough wood. He only had to wait a moment before the latch raised and the door swung slowly inward. The dark interior of the one room cottage made the woman in the doorway stand out in sharp relief. She was small but held her body erect with immense dignity. Large, pale blue eyes as brilliant as they were intelligent raised calmly to his face.
    Father Thomas had never been able to