The Priest's Virgin Concubine

"We change the location on a rotating basis," Megan said smoothly. "That way we're not sticking one woman with clean-up all the time. And our neighbors here at the church wouldn't be too happy if they had to deal with a bunch of noise late on a Saturday night.

"We'll all be out at Erick and Sue Cantrell's farm. Do you know where it is?" She smiled at him as he shook his head. "Well, I'm sure you'll get to know the area soon. I'll e-mail you directions."

"Do I need to bring anything?" he asked. "Snacks, something like that?"

"Oh, no." The oldest woman, who looked to be approaching retirement, looked him up and down. An expression, not quite disapproval, flickered over her round face. "Just yourself. That's all that's needed. Or required."

"Well, I'll be there," he repeated. Something about the intent way all three women were looking at him was just a little bit disturbing. And when he glanced around the vestibule, he found that a large amount of faces was turned their way. "If you'll excuse me," he said. "My family is here, and I'd like to show them around town."

"Of course," Megan said. "I spoke with your mother before the service. She's very nice. I congratulated her on raising such a pleasant young man. And you, too, of course."

Justin bit back a bark of laughter as the sly arrow hit home. His rivalry with his younger brother William had been a source of irritation with his parents for literally decades. And the entire family had been astonished when, after a high-school career which could generously be called "checkered,' had somehow found a calling working at an animal rescue foundation. That had led to a meeting with a very nice young woman, and he was now happily married with a daughter and another girl on the way. Their sister Jan had been more than a little miffed when the black sheep of the family had presented their parents with their first grandchild. But since she was happily busy backstabbing her way up the corporate ladder at an insurance company in Bloomington and didn't have time for a husband, let alone kids, little Priscilla was probably going to have to wait a while before she had some cousins on that side of the family.

"Thanks. They had to come down and make sure I was actually still in Illinois. Mom thinks that anything south of Springfield is filled with people who secretly want to invade the north and force us all to play banjos, drink moonshine, and watch NASCAR all day."

"Well, we'd be rude if we kept her waiting then, wouldn't we?" She smiled at Priscilla, who turned her head to hide in Justin's chest. "We'll see you on Saturday night, Father Kelly. Remember. Nine o'clock."

"What was that all about?" his mother asked, coming up as the three women left. With the skill of a London pickpocket, she lifted Priscilla out of his arms before he could do anything about it, settling the toddler against her shoulder with the proprietary air of a grandmother who had seen one of her wishes granted.

Justin shrugged. "Just church politics, I think. A couple of the movers and shakers invited me to a meeting of the Ladies' Auxiliary next Saturday. There's probably some sort of thing going on that they need my support for, so they're hoping to get on my good side before anyone else does."

He hooked a finger under his collar. Even in the air-conditioned church, the crowded vestibule was sweltering. "Let me get out of these clothes," he said, waving to the robes he had worn to say mass. "I'll meet you out here in about twenty minutes."

"Oh? What happens in twenty minutes?" his sister-in-law Kaitlyn said as she wandered up to them, her husband following.

Justin glanced at his younger brother and grinned. "Something," he said, leaning forward and pitching his voice low, "that I've wanted to do for weeks.

"You'll like it, Kaitlyn. Trust me."

*****

"Oh," Kaitlyn moaned. "Oh my God. That is so good, Justin. More. More!"

He grinned across the table at his brother's wife, who had a chicken thigh clutched in her fingers. In a high chair at her side, Priscilla looked at her mother anxiously. "I told you. Best fried chicken in the state."

"Is there anything here that won't make me gain weight?" Jan asked, eying the meal in something approaching dismay.

"Nope," he said, picking out a couple of pieces of chicken from the basket a smiling waitress had placed on their table a short time ago. Anderson's Restaurant was high-ceilinged and airy, with slowly-turning ceiling fans that wafted a gentle breeze across the room. The walls and floor were light-colored wood, and the ceiling white plaster. All around them, families still dressed in their Sunday best were eating their lunch. "But you can do an extra thirty minutes on the exercise bike tomorrow."

"Not the sort of thing I would expect a priest to say," his brother said. "Aren't you guys the ones who are always telling us we need to avoid temptation?" Belying his words, he dipped a catfish fritter in tartar sauce and took a bite.

"All of this is going to go straight to my butt," Jan moaned. But she began to fill up her plate from the available choices. Baked beans, sweet corn, chicken and fish, cornbread biscuits and fried mushrooms. At her side, her daughter was happily gumming a chicken strip to death. "So are you happy here, Justin? I know Mom and Dad were worried, when you got sent to a small town. But this looks like a nice place. You know. Clean. Not like some of the towns I drove through on the way here, where there's rusted-out cars up on blocks in front of every house."

"Well, I've only been here for a couple of weeks," he replied. "But so far, so good, I guess. No one has gotten ticked off at one of my homilies for being too controversial, there aren't any money problems, and everyone seems to want to make me feel at home. I even-"

He cut himself off as a familiar profile walked through the door and towards the take-out counter. As if she sensed his gaze, Brittany Murray turned and caught his eye. He waved tentatively, and she bounced over. Good God. Does she ever move at less than a scamper? "Hi, Father Justin!"

"Brittany." Today the gorgeous teen was dressed modestly, in an eggshell-blue sundress. "Getting some take-out?"

"Yes." She rolled her eyes expressively, and he smiled. "Mom didn't feel like making lunch, and I certainly didn't." She fanned herself with one hand. "Too hot. So Dad phoned in an order." She eyed the other people at the table with interest. "Is this your family?"

He nodded. "Everyone, this is Brittany Murray. Her mother is one of the first people I met here in town. Brittany, this is everyone." He introduced her around the table.

"So I heard Mom invited you to the meeting on Saturday?" Brittany asked, when she had said hello to everyone.

He nodded. "Cool. I'll be there, too."

"Really?"

"Yes, Father Justin. Really." She smiled. "I'm eighteen now. So I guess technically I'm an adult. Mom said I could come if I wanted." She shrugged fluidly. "So I'm coming.

"Whoops!" Her glance darted across the room, to where an older man was impatiently holding up a pair of brown paper bags. "Looks like our stuff is ready. I'll see you later, Father! Bye!"

As she darted away, he found his mother shaking her head at him. "What?" he asked defensively.

"I've been waiting all my life for you to fall for someone, Justin. And you do it now?"

"What? Don't be ridiculous, Mom." He picked up a cornbread muffin and cracked it open. Fragrant steam wafted up and he spread butter on the inside. "She's just a girl in the choir. And if you haven't noticed, I'm a priest."

"Doesn't mean you can't look," his brother said as he wiped mustard off Priscilla's face.

"Actually, Billy, it kind of does," he replied shortly.

"My name is William."

"Boys." It only took one word from their father to halt the budding argument. William and Justin glanced at each other, rolled their eyes in unison, and stopped the impending bickering.

"You're imagining things, Mom. It's ridiculous. One, I'm a priest. Two, she's eight years younger than me. And three, I'm a priest."

"Well, I think it's completely disgusting," Jan said primly, though her eyes were dancing with the deadpan mirth that she rarely let out. "For one thing, think about the age difference. I mean, it might not seem like much now. But when you're ninety years old, she'll only be eighty-two!" She shuddered delicately, like a duchess who had just seen a mouse. "That's just...indecent."

"Not helping, Jan," he muttered out of the side of his mouth, as he noticed his mother giving him an appraising look. He put his fork down firmly and looked around the table. "I'm a priest. I'm happy being a priest. And Brittany Murray is a very nice girl who is looking to get married and have some kids. And that husband is not going to be me. Because I'm a priest."

"All right, Justin. There's no need to get all huffy."

"Huffy? Me? Mom, you're the one who...argh, just forget it." Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, and reminded himself that in a few hours, his family would be headed back north, and he wouldn't have to deal with their attempts to run his life. They cared about him. They truly did. But sometimes they acted like they knew him better than he knew himself, and that they should be entitled to make his decisions for him. Instead, he steered the conversation to his sister-in-law and her daughter, and the baby that was due in October. Priscilla was a never-ending source of fascination for the family. He thought that William and his wife were actually fortunate that they lived a good hour away from his parents. Otherwise, his mother would be driving both of them crazy with her overenthusiastic grandmothering.

After lunch, he took them on an abbreviated tour of the town, of which there really wasn't much to see, and then into the surrounding countryside. When the family got tired of farms, he drove east, pointing out the Blackhawk River and the rumpled skirts of the looming hills, capped by the green limestone crags of Shawnee National Forest. By midafternoon, they had seen pretty much everything there was to see, and when they arrived back at the rectory, everyone seemed to be ready to get on the road home, much to his unspoken relief.

"When will we see you again?" his mother asked as he gave her a hug goodbye. "Now that you're not cooped up in that dreadful seminary and can actually set your own hours, I hope to see you visiting a lot more."

"Not too long, I hope," Justin replied. "But I'm still getting my feet wet. The people here have dealt with three priests in a row who haven't done their job. The last thing I should do is skip out when I've barely been here for a couple of weeks." He smiled down at her, surprised as always that he was taller than she was. The force of her personality always made her seem bigger in his mind than she was in real life. "Besides, Mom. My job isn't really a nine-to-five thing. I always have to be there when someone needs me."

"Right." She smacked his arm with the flat of her hand. "Well, don't you be letting these people run you ragged, Justin Andrew Kelly! You're still my son, and if I think they're working you too hard, I'll come down and give them a piece of my mind."

"All right," he smiled, and folded her into his arms again. Briefly, a vision crossed his mind, of his mother and Meg Murray facing off, and he didn't know whether he should look forward to it or run for the hills.

"Come on, Isabel," his father said. He was staring at the sky, doubtless plotting the route home in his head. John Kelly was the sort of man who thought that driving across Nebraska was fun.

"All right." William walked up, Priscilla's head resting on his shoulder. He stuck out a hand. "Be seeing you, dingus."

He gripped it hard. "Take care of yourself, jackass."

"Boys!"

"What?"

Eventually all the goodbyes were said, and Justin was left alone in the parking lot. He waved farewell as the cars pulled away with a vague sense of relief, and then went back into the rectory.

It was strange, Justin thought, as he made his solitary supper that evening, how quickly the old brick building had begun to feel like home. Much more than the house back on Fowler Street. He didn't need much. Just his books and his job.

Despite his mother's doubts, he had found that he actually liked Fertile Valley. It wasn't big, wasn't sophisticated. No one would ever describe it as a hidden gem of downstate Illinois. But what it was, he thought, chewing, was decent. Not the sort of self-congratulatory morality that you found in some towns, where everyone was smugly proud of how virtuous they were. But the ordinary, common decency of people who didn't need anyone else's approval. People who were quietly confident of their own worth.

And now I have to measure up to that, Justin thought uncomfortably. Despite his firm stance with his mother in the restaurant, over the last several nights his dreams had been filled with Brittany Murray. He woke up with the first light of dawn, his sheets a twisted, tangled mess, his cock almost painful with unslaked desire. Her body swam before his mind's eye, dressed in the white bikini that she had worn when they went out fishing a few days ago. But in his fevered imagination, the garment vanished like mist at dawn, and her eyes had grown warm and tender as she gazed at him, her full, plump lips whispering words of soft, sensuous passion.

Stop it. He scowled down at his crotch. Even the thought of the gorgeous, nubile teenager was enough to make his body rise, as mindless and eager as a fish striking at an insect on the surface of the pond.

Firmly, Justin put the temptation aside and reached for a notepad and made some notes. The meeting of the Ladies' Auxiliary on Saturday night would be the first time he would meet one of the church groups, and he thought he might be asked to make a few remarks. He definitely wasn't thinking about Brittany, he insisted to himself.

Not at all.

Saturday evening came, and after his supper, Justin stood in front of his closet, wondering what to wear.

Oh, for the love of God, he told himself. Who are you trying to impress? Do you really think Brittany is going to pay any attention to you? With a couple dozen other women there? You're twenty-six. It's a little bit late to start acting like a teenager who's going on his first date.

Eventually he settled on a pair of charcoal slacks and an open-necked polo, firmly putting aside the temptation to wear a jacket and tie. Even if it wasn't way too formal for a simple church meeting, it was also completely ridiculous, considering the change in the weather. Summer had come, and had squeezed Fertile Valley in its hot, sweaty fist. Even with the sun nearing the horizon, the temperature was still well over ninety, and the humidity made things feel even worse.

By the time he arrived at the farm, the sun had set, and the glow in the west was fading from blood-red to orange and purple. It was, he noted idly, the eve of the summer solstice. The longest day of the year would be the next day.

"Father Kelly. Good. You're here." Megan Murray greeted him almost as soon as he parked his car. "Come on around back. We decided to meet outside. It's too hot in that stuffy old farmhouse."

"You know," he said with a smile. "We could have met at the church and been nice and comfortable in the air conditioning."

Meg laughed lightly. "I can tell you've never been part of a woman's group, Father. If we met at the church, how could Sue Cantrell brag about how great her hospitality was? She would lose her chance to score points with everyone else."

He nodded as they walked around the outside of the farmhouse, breathing deep. In the dim light, the scent of growing things seemed to hover around them like a cloud, thick and musky.

They turned a corner, and a sudden orange light sprang up, maybe fifty yards away. "Ah," Megan said. "Good timing."

"A bonfire?' he asked. "In this heat?"

"It's traditional," she replied. She put a hand on his arm, halting him. "Father Kelly." Her eyes were dark, the green of her irises hidden in the dim light. "I want you to keep an open mind tonight. Put aside your prejudices, and understand that some things are because they must be. That whatever we do, it is for the greater good of ourselves, our families, and our community."

"I don't understand." He frowned, confused, as he saw small groups of women, singly or in pairs or trios, walk towards the bonfire. Their outlines were dark in the light of the leaping flames.

"You will. Now, come with me."

Megan guided him until they were only ten yards away from the fire. The heat was intense, and he felt sweat begin to trickle down his back. Soon, the women had gathered in a circle around himself and Megan. Their ages ranged from Brittany and Haley, who were barely out of adolescence, to a few old women who had to be approaching ninety if they were a day.

Without a word, the women began to walk around the fire. A low, eerie hum emerged from half a hundred throats in a tune that made the hairs rise up on the back of his neck. Wordless at first, and then a slow, deep chant. As the women sang, their motions began to change. Three circles, turning in opposite directions, with each woman slowly weaving back and forth within the pattern until his eyes were bewildered.

Something deep inside Justin responded. A cultural memory as the ancient Irish words flowed over him. Beside him, Megan translated, her words pitched just loudly enough for him to hear.

Beautiful Áine

Our queen and lover divine

Your passion is fierce

Your love eternal

Your gifts too great to count

We thank and honor you for them all

Sun queen, bright one, immortal light and sacred goddess

Be with us as we honor thy land

In the old way

Two will meet here tonight, on the eve of Midsummer

A sacrifice for you

One will give blood

One will offer faith

Take our gifts and bless this, thy land

A bountiful harvest to come

The hymn ended, the dancing coming to a halt as the last words flowed over the moonlit fields, and then faded into silence.

He cleared his throat in the sudden qiet. "I hope someone plans to tell me what is going on."

"Three circles, Father Kelly." Megan's lips curved slightly. "You're an intelligent man. And an educated one. Surely you can figure some of it out."

He looked over the tableau, frowning slightly. "Maid, mother, and crone, is that it?" The closest circle was almost empty, with only Haley, Brittany, and two or three other girls he recognized from the choir. The second was far more numerous, filled with women in the twenties and thirties and older. And the outer was comprised entirely of older women, who were almost certainly beyond childbearing age.

"I'm no crone!" snapped an old woman, her face a net of wrinkles. "I'm in my prime! And if I was forty years younger, I'd teach you a thing or two, young man!"

The other women hushed her. "Yes," Megan said. Her eyes closed reverently. "Three groups of women. One who are past the age when they can conceive. One who have husbands and families of their own.

"And one group who are still virgins."

Megan spoke slowly, as if each word was weighty with significance. "Tonight, Father Kelly, it is your duty, as the priest of St. Catherine's, to choose one of those young women, to lay with them, and to take their virginity to ensure the continued fertility and prosperity of the town."

Justin nodded. "Right. Very funny. Ha ha." He glared down at Megan, his heart hammering in his chest. "Is this some sort of joke? Or is it a test, to see if the new priest is a secret pervert who would just love to prey on young girls? Because if it's a joke, it's not funny." His voice went harsh. "And if you think I'm a secret pedophile, I am furious that you could believe that of me."