chapter two  ࿇  WHAT IS THIS FEELING

❝ I felt a calling ❞
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♱

Jacqueline lingered by the kitchen doorway, shifting from one foot to the other like a child caught eavesdropping. Her eyes kept darting toward Vincent Rien, the new priest. The man stood there too comfortably, taking up more space than seemed proper. His gaze didn't waver, settling on her in a way that made her feel like she was being unwrapped, layer by layer, right there in her own home.

She wasn't sure what to do next. It was rude to stare, but she couldn't look away. Something in his presence commanded her attention. It wasn't just his sharp, angular features, or those strange red eyes that seemed to hold some private amusement. It was the way he made her skin prickle, like a cold hand sliding along her spine.

"Jacqueline, darlin', why don't you show Father Rien around town tomorrow?" Her mother's voice cut through the air like a knife through butter, easy and warm. "I'm sure he'd appreciate some company while he gets his bearings."

"Sure, Mama." Jacqueline's voice felt small, like it didn't belong to her. "I'd be happy to."

The evening went on, the grownups' conversation buzzing faintly in the background like mosquitoes. Jacqueline couldn't help sneaking glances at the priest. There was something off about him, something in the way he held himself, loose and relaxed, as if he had all the time in the world to sit and stare at people.

Eventually, her parents excused themselves to another room, leaving her and Vincent alone. He stayed where he was, leaning casually against the counter, his arms crossed in front of him. He kept his eyes on her, but his expression was hard to read, somewhere between a smile and a challenge.

"Thank you for agreeing to show me around, Jacqueline." His voice was deep, with a slow, honeyed drawl. It poured into the silence, thickening the air between them.

"It's no trouble," she managed to say, though her voice felt like it might crack under the weight of his stare. "Spring Falls is a nice place. You'll get to know it well enough soon."

"I'm sure I will," he said, his smile deepening as though she'd said something amusing. "It seems like the kind of place that doesn't change much. The kind of place where people keep their secrets buried deep." He spoke the last word slowly, letting it hang in the air, as if he expected her to catch it and hold on.

Jacqueline didn't know what to say to that. She felt like a fish on a hook, mouth opening and closing uselessly. She wasn't used to men speaking this way to her—men who were supposed to be holy, no less. And why did he look at her like he already knew her, knew everything about her, down to the prayers she whispered at night?

"You're new here," she said finally, her words flat and stiff like a board across a creek. "There's plenty you still need to learn."

"Oh, I don't doubt it." Vincent pushed himself off the counter and took a step toward her. His eyes flicked down, tracing her face as if mapping out a route. "But I think I've already seen the heart of this place, Jacqueline. And you, darlin', you're right at the center of it."

Her cheeks burned, and she looked away, her gaze falling to the Bible resting on the kitchen table. This wasn't how a priest was supposed to speak. And it certainly wasn't how a girl was supposed to feel. She was supposed to look up to him as a shepherd to his flock, not tremble under his gaze like a rabbit caught in a snare.

"Well, I'd better get going," she said abruptly, taking a step back toward the hallway. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Vincent's voice followed her as she turned to leave, low and smooth, "I'm lookin' forward to it."

She didn't turn around. She didn't want to see that knowing look in his eyes again. She all but ran up the stairs to her room, her heart thudding against her ribs like it was trying to beat its way out of her chest.

Once inside, she closed the door behind her and leaned against it, trying to catch her breath. She felt unsettled, like something had crawled inside her and made a home in the pit of her stomach. She had been raised on rules and the Word, on clear lines between right and wrong. Desire was a sin, wasn't it? Or at least, it was a thing to be controlled, to be confessed and cleansed away. It wasn't something to be invited into your kitchen for supper.

Jacqueline crossed to her window and looked out at the night, the sky a deep blue bruised by the last light of the sun. The stars blinked down at her like they knew something she didn't. The moon hung low, spilling silver over the rooftops. She told herself she wasn't thinking of Vincent's smile, or the way his eyes seemed to see right through her. She was just thinking about tomorrow, about the church bells, about anything except the burn that lingered in her cheeks.

She crawled into bed and clutched her Bible to her chest, as if holding it close could chase away whatever had come over her. She flipped it open, looking for comfort in the familiar words, but all she could see was the red of his eyes, the curve of his lips. She bit her lip hard enough to taste blood, her body thrumming with something she didn't have a name for.

When she prayed that night, her voice was unsteady, the words tangled and desperate. She asked for strength and clarity, for her heart to be set right. But even as she spoke, she knew something inside her had already shifted, like the ground giving way beneath her feet.

Tomorrow, she'd have to look him in the eyes again, and pretend that his presence didn't make her skin itch and her heart stumble. She'd have to show him the town, just like her mother had asked. And she'd have to keep her distance, even if he didn't. Because whatever it was he'd awakened in her, she wasn't sure she was ready to face it.

As the night deepened, Jacqueline lay still in her bed, the darkness pressing close around her. Outside, the crickets chirped, and the wind rattled the shutters, and somewhere in the distance, the church bell tolled once, as if to mark the beginning of something she couldn't yet see.

♱

❝ Good Mornin'! Cain family ❞ Mantis exclaimed, walking into the house like she herself lived there. Jacqueline, still in the kitchen, looked up from her breakfast, her thoughts still lingering on the previous night's encounter with Vincent.

"Mae, you're here early," Jacqueline said, forcing a smile. Mantis grinned, dropping into a chair beside her. "Well of course I am, your mamas famous- thank ya missy- pancakes are to die for" she said as Mississippi placed some pancakes infront of her.

Mantis licked her lips and dug in, savoring the first bite. Jacqueline watched her friend with a mix of amusement and distraction, her thoughts still lingering on the previous night's encounter with Vincent.

"These are amazing, as always," Mantis said between mouthfuls. "So, Jackie, are you ready to show the new priest around today?" Mississippi asked removing her apron from her waist. Mantis paused what she was doing to look at her friend. "You're showing the priest around today?"

"Indeed she is" a deep voice spoke from the doorway.

Everyone turned to see Vincent standing there, his presence instantly commanding the room. His crimson eyes locked onto Jacqueline's, and she felt her heart skip a beat. He sent her a warm smile with a nod of acknowledgment.

"Good mornin', everyone," Vincent continued, stepping into the kitchen with a warm smile. "I hope I'm not intruding."

"Not at all, Father Rien," Missy said, her tone cheerful. "Would you like some pancakes? They're fresh off the griddle."

"I would love some, thank you," Vincent replied, taking a seat at the table. As Missy served him a plate, he looked over at Jacqueline. "I'm very much looking forward to our tour today, Jacqueline."

Jacqueline nodded, trying to ignore the fluttering in her stomach. "Yes, of course. We can leave whenever you're ready." Mantis, her curiosity piqued, watched the exchange with keen interest. "Don't get lost now you two" she teased.

Jacqueline rolled her eyes at her friend's teasing but couldn't help but smile. "We'll be fine, I know this town like the back of my hand"

Vincent's presence seemed to fill the room, an almost tangible energy that Jacqueline found both unsettling and fascinating. When they finally stood to leave, Missy wished them well, her eyes twinkled.

"Have a good day, you two. And Jacqueline, make sure to show Father Rien all the best spots in town," she said, giving her daughter a knowing look.

"We will, Mama," Jacqueline replied, leading Vincent out the door.

As they walked side by side into the morning sunlight, Jacqueline couldn't help but steal a glance at Vincent. There was something about him, something she couldn't quite put her finger on, that drew her in. She resolved to keep her wits about her, to not let his presence overwhelm her.

"So, where shall we begin?" Vincent asked, his deep voice breaking the silence.

"There's a lot to see in Spring Falls," Jacqueline replied, smiling. "But I thought we might start with the town square. It's the heart of our lil' community."

"Lead the way," Vincent said, his eyes never leaving hers.
Jacqueline felt a shiver run down her spine but quickly masked it with a bright smile. "Follow me," she said, her voice steady despite the fluttering in her chest.

They stepped out into the morning sunlight, the air fresh with the scent of blooming flowers. The quiet hum of Spring Falls enveloped them, the town slowly coming to life as people began their day.

"So," Jacqueline started, looking down at her feet as she walked beside the priest. "Where are you from?" she asked, finally looking up to see him still staring at her. She was beginning to think he had a staring problem.

Vincent's gaze remained steady, his eyes holding a mixture of amusement and curiosity. "I come from a small village in Eastern Europe," he replied, his voice carrying a faint, unplaceable accent. "It's quite different from Spring Falls, but there are some similarities."

Jacqueline felt a flicker of curiosity. "What brought you here, then?"

Vincent paused for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully. "I felt a calling," he said finally. "A need to bring something... different to a new place. And when I heard about Spring Falls, it seemed like the perfect opportunity."

"How long have you been here?" he asked her.

Jacqueline saw his eyes fixed on her with that same intense gaze. She felt a small smile lift her lips. "Practically my whole life," she answered.

Vincent nodded, his expression thoughtful. "It must be nice, growing up in a place where everyone knows you."

"It has its moments," Jacqueline replied. "But sometimes it feels a bit... confining. Like everyone knows every little detail about your life."

Vincent chuckled softly. "I can imagine."

Jacqueline glanced at him, curious. "What about you? Have you always lived in small towns?"

Vincent shook his head. "No, I've lived in a variety of places. Some small, some large. Each has its own charm and challenges. But I think there's something special about a place like Spring Falls. It has a certain... purity to it."

Jacqueline felt a strange warmth at his words. "It is special," she agreed. "I love it so much"

"I can see that, I've heard great things about you and how you care for this town" Vincent said, his eyes softening as he looked at her. Looked down at her feet smiling bashfully. "I just try to be a good neighbor. My father always taught me that our duty is to serve others."

"Your father is a wise man," Vincent said. "And you've clearly inherited his kindness." Jacqueline felt her heart flutter at his words. "Thank you," she said softly.

They walked in silence for a few moments, the town around them bustling with the sounds of everyday life. Jacqueline found herself sneaking glances at Vincent. Maybe he isn't so bad he's just intimidating.

"Do you ever feel like you're meant for something more?" Vincent asked suddenly, breaking the silence. Jacqueline was taken aback by the question. "Sometimes," she admitted. "But I'm not sure what that 'something more' is."

Vincent smiled, a mysterious glint in his eyes. "Perhaps you'll find out soon enough." Jacqueline felt a chill run down her spine, a mix of excitement and apprehension. "Maybe," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

As they continued their walk, Jacqueline spotted a few ravens perched on a nearby fence, their dark feathers stark against the bright morning sky. She couldn't help but feel a chill at the sight of them, their beady eyes watching her intently.

Vincent followed her gaze, a small smile playing on his lips. "Ravens," he murmured, his voice almost reverent. "In many cultures, they are seen as omens. Messengers between worlds."

Jacqueline shivered, tearing her eyes away from the birds. "I've always found them a bit eerie," she said. "Like they're watching and judging."

Vincent chuckled softly. "Perhaps they are. Or perhaps they see something in you that others do not."

Jacqueline frowned, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling. "What do you mean?"

Vincent's eyes seemed to darken, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them. "Just that you have a certain light about you, Jacqueline. A purity that draws attention"

She looked away, uncomfortable with the intensity of his gaze. "I don't know about that," she said quietly. "I'm just trying to live a good life, like my parents taught me."

Vincent nodded, his expression thoughtful. "And that is commendable. But sometimes, we are called to something greater, something beyond the ordinary. Have you ever felt that call, Jacqueline?"

She hesitated, memories of her restless nights and unspoken desires surfacing. "Maybe," she whispered, unsure of where this conversation was leading.

Vincent's smile widened, and for a moment, Jacqueline thought she saw a hint of something darker in his eyes. "Perhaps that is why our paths have crossed. To explore that call together." He sent her a wink. God, this man really knows his way with words.

"Maybe," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Her heart raced, a mix of fear and excitement swirling within her.

They continued walking, the ravens still watching from their perch. As they neared the edge of town, Vincent's presence seemed to grow more intense, his every word and gesture commanding her attention.

"So, where do you see yourself in the future?" Vincent asked, his tone casual but his eyes sharp.

Jacqueline hesitated, unsure of how to answer. "I... I don't really know," she admitted. "I always thought I'd stay here, help my parents, and maybe take over some of my father's duties at the church."

Vincent nodded, his gaze thoughtful. "It's a noble path, staying to serve your community. But don't you want to... do something else, hmm?"

Jacqueline sighed, her thoughts swirling. "Sometimes I do, but I don't know," she said softly. "Enough about me, though."

Vincent's smile widened, but he didn't press further. "Fair enough. What would you like to know?"

Jacqueline thought for a moment, her curiosity piqued. "What brought you to the priesthood? You don't seem like the typical priest."

Vincent chuckled, a deep, rich sound. "Appearances can be deceiving. I felt a calling, a need to serve in a different way. The path to priesthood isn't always straightforward. For me, it was a journey of self-discovery and redemption."

"Redemption?" Jacqueline echoed, intrigued. "Were you... lost before?"

"In a way," Vincent admitted. "We all have our struggles, our moments of darkness. But it's through those struggles that we find our true purpose."

Jacqueline found herself drawn to his words, feeling a connection she couldn't quite explain. "I suppose that's true."

Vincent's eyes softened as he looked at her. "And what about you, Jacqueline? Have you ever felt lost?"

Jacqueline hesitated, memories of her restless nights and unspoken desires surfacing once again. "I mean...yeah," she admitted. "But I try to find my way back."

Vincent reached out and gently touched her arm, his touch warm and reassuring. "We all do. And sometimes, it takes someone else to help guide us."

Jacqueline felt a shiver run down her spine at his touch "yeah," she whispered.

They walked in silence for a few moments, the town around them bustling with the sounds of everyday life. Jacqueline found herself sneaking glances at Vincent. She occasionally told him about the town and the just everything he needed to know. They finally made it back to Jacqueline's home.

"Well, here we are," Jacqueline said, pausing at the front gate. The air was heavy, a sticky Southern warmth clinging to her skin. She wiped her palms on her dress and glanced at Father Rien. "Thank you for letting me show you around."

"It was my pleasure," Vincent replied, his gaze lingering just a beat too long. "I appreciate your time." His voice, low and deliberate, seemed to draw out the silence between them.

Before she could find the right words, the front door creaked open, and her father, Richard Cain, appeared, his smile broad and easy. "Ah, there you are!" he exclaimed. "I trust Jacqueline gave you a proper tour of our little corner of the world, Father Rien?"

"She did," Vincent said, gripping Father Cain's hand with a firm, measured shake. "She was more than accommodating." His eyes slid back to Jacqueline, a faint glint in them that made her pulse quicken.

"Glad to hear it," Father Cain said, his gaze moving between the two of them with a flicker of curiosity. "Jacqueline, why don't you invite Father Rien in for some tea?"

She hesitated, a slight flush rising in her cheeks. "Would you like to come in?" Her voice came out softer than she intended, her fingers brushing the edge of the gate as if seeking an anchor.

Vincent's mouth curved in a half-smile, as though savoring some private amusement. "As much as I'd like to," he said, his tone almost playful, "I really need to get back home and prepare for my sermon." His eyes seemed to trace the line of her jaw. "But if you need anything at all, I'm just next door."

Jacqueline bit down on her lower lip, tasting the salt of her own skin. "Okay, Father Rien. I'll see you on Sunday, then."

"See you Sunday," he echoed, but the words felt slower, as if each syllable was an afterthought. He gave her one last look, a wink she wasn't sure she had imagined, before turning away and crossing the lawn toward his house.

She watched him go, her fingers still gripping the gate. There was something in the way he moved, the easy confidence in his stride that made her linger a moment longer, as though drawn by some faint and troubling magnetism. She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, and turned back toward the house.

"Daddy, can I invite Mantis over tonight?" Jacqueline asked, her voice carrying a touch of eagerness. She pushed her hair behind her ear, her face free of glasses, allowing her gaze to settle more openly on her father.

Richard Cain glanced at her, a slight furrow deepening the creases in his brow as he studied her expression. "Mantis, huh?" He rubbed his chin, his eyes narrowing, a glint of skepticism there. "You sure that's a good idea, sweetheart? You know how your mama feels 'bout her."

Jacqueline scoffed lightly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Mama loves Mantis, Daddy. Always has. That ain't no problem." Her voice carried that familiar accent, a subtle drawl at the edges, words curling like smoke.

He leaned back, his hands resting on his hips, the evening sun catching the lines on his face. "Well, if you say so," he said, but there was a hint of reluctance in the way he let the words out slow, as if tasting them. "Just don't let her get you mixed up in none of that nonsense y'all like to get up to."

Jacqueline rolled her eyes, the motion small but deliberate. "We ain't gettin' up to nothin'." She turned away before he could say more, her bare feet sinking into the cool grass as she headed inside. The air was thick, heavy as honey, and she could feel it gathering in her lungs, making her movements feel slow and drowsy, like moving through molasses.

As she reached the doorway, she glanced back over her shoulder, half-expecting to see Vincent still there, watching from his window, or maybe standing in the shadows just out of sight. But there was nothing, only the quiet of the street and the whisper of the cicadas winding up for the night.

Inside, the air was cooler, but it did little to calm the prickling heat beneath Jacqueline's skin. She took the old rotary phone off its cradle, the cord twisting between her fingers as she dialed Mantis's number. The line buzzed faintly in her ear, each ring stretching out like a held breath until, finally, a voice came through, slick and familiar.

"Hey, sugar," Mantis drawled, that lazy warmth in her tone that always made Jacqueline think of summer evenings spent drinking iced tea on the porch. "What's the matter? You sound outta sorts."

Jacqueline bit her lip, unsure why she felt suddenly foolish, her voice coming out smaller than she intended. "Can you come over? Daddy said it's fine." She twisted the phone cord tighter, the plastic cutting into her skin. "I just... I got somethin' I need to talk 'bout."

There was a pause, then a rustling like Mantis was already moving, making plans. "Be there in ten," she said. "Better have some of that sweet tea ready."

Jacqueline hung up, her fingers lingering over the cool surface of the phone. She went to the kitchen, busying herself with the pitcher of tea, the sugar spoon scraping against the bottom of the glass. Her thoughts kept slipping back to Father Rien—Vincent, she reminded herself. It felt strange to think of a priest by his first name. There had been something about the way he looked at her, that wink before he turned away. It wasn't anything she could put words to, just a prickling warmth that unsettled her.

She was pouring the tea when the door creaked open and Mantis strolled in, her wide-brimmed hat tilted back, hair tumbling loose over her shoulders. "Well, look at you, already fussin' over the tea like a good little hostess," she teased, her voice light, though her gaze was sharp.

Jacqueline gave her a shy smile, pushing the glass across the table. "You want somethin' stronger?" she asked, half-joking, half-unsure of why the idea even crossed her mind.

Mantis arched a brow, her smile curling at the corners. "Sweetheart, it ain't Sunday just yet. What's gotten into you?" She took a seat, crossing her legs as she settled in. "Now, go on. What's this big news?"

Jacqueline sat across from her, fingers fiddling with the edge of her dress. "It's about the new priest," she said, feeling a flush creep up her neck. "Father Rien."

"Vincent?" Mantis's eyes gleamed with a knowing look. "He's a fine sight, that one. Tall, smooth talker. What 'bout him? He try preachin' at you already?"

Jacqueline shook her head, pressing her lips together. "No, it's not that. It's just... when he was leavin' earlier, he looked at me in this... this way." She stumbled over the words, unsure of what she was trying to say. "It was like... I don't know, Mantis. It felt strange, like somethin' heavy sittin' on my chest. Made my face all hot."

Mantis's smile widened, and she leaned back in her chair, her laughter soft and deep. "Oh, sweet little Jacqueline," she said, shaking her head. "You're crushin' on the new priest."

Jacqueline's eyes widened, her cheeks burning. "I ain't crushin' on nobody!" she protested, but the words felt thin and unconvincing, even to her own ears. "I just... he looked at me, that's all."

Mantis gave a slow, understanding nod, though there was a glint of amusement in her eyes. "Well, peaches, sometimes a look's all it takes. Nothin' wrong with feelin' a little stirred up, even if you don't know why just yet." She sipped her tea, her gaze never leaving Jacqueline's.

"But you best be careful, darlin'. The Lord's man or not, he's still a man."