At the Cross Roads of Life…There is No Perfect Choice…

F ather Issac returned in the morning.

He was clearly pleased with the changes the nuns had made in the house. He took a long time inspecting the tiny chapel they had made of the front sitting room.

"Excellent." The priest spoke after a silent prayer. "Here, you shall do the work of the Church. So close to the border, fleece can be gathered easily. Your sisters will card, spin, and knit during the winter, and work the land in the spring and summer."

The mother superior had her hands tucked beneath the long tabard which was worn over her underrobe. She stood silently, listening attentively.

Father Issac finished. He paused for a moment before he caught sight of Rhona. There was a look of satisfaction in his gaze that made Rhona slightly guilty about resenting him. There were a full dozen nuns in the house now, and there was plenty of room for twice that number. Wasn't it selfish of her to want to keep it all for herself?

"Your name will be Sister Rebekah, in remembrance of the fact that you honor the call to service that was sent to you."

Father Issac looked at the floor in front of him. When Rhona continued to stand, he cleared his throat and looked at the floor once more.

"Kneel," Mother Superior whispered.

"I cannot take a vow I do not feel a passion for," Rhona objected. She tried to temper her tone but there was still a hint of rebellion edging her words.

"Just as with marriage, passion grows after the ceremony," Father Issac instructed her. He locked gazes with her and this time he pointed at the floor in front of him.

"As you serve, your devotion will yield contentment," Mother Superior added.

Such an act would benefit more than just herself. Rhona tried to think of the supper she'd shared with the other nuns and the feeling of family she had noticed.

Family was so great a blessing, one she longed for.

But there was a price…

She would never be free to feel Peadair's kiss again.

Rhona shook her head, earning a frown from the priest. "If that is your choice, you should not share in the warmth of this house. You shall be put out."

"The girl should be granted time to adjust," Mother Superior suggested.

Father Issac didn't agree. His eyes narrowed and a pinched look appeared around his mouth. "She shall not join in Communion with the members of this house who have all pledged their lives to the service of the Church. To sit at the table with them would be to belittle the faith they have in taking their own vows."

Several of the nuns had gathered. They began to point at the spot in front of the priest, silently urging her to bend to his demand.

Yet her knees felt as solid as the oak trees surrounding the meadow.

"There is a small work shed at the top of the meadow." Mother Superior's voice was compassionate. "There is no hearth for warmth or light. The structure will afford her a view of the house and all that might be hers once she bends. We shall have the comfort of knowing we have followed our Lord's example of not forgetting to bring the straying sheep back into the fold."

Father Issac wasn't content with the idea. But he swallowed his response and nodded. "Send her to the shed. Nothing in this house is to be spared for her comfort. If she is to have bread, she must trade linen fiber or carded wool for it. There shall be neither conversation nor kind expressions, for those things are reserved for the members of this house." Father Issac sent Rhona a stern look of disapproval. "Only after you bend shall you earn mercy."