Chapter 20 MATTY
MATTY
The last time I’d stepped foot inside Bristlecone Springs Community Church was the day before my mother left to chase her big city dreams. I was twelve.
She stood right there at the altar in her Sunday best, smiling like it wasn’t the end of the world, and Pastor Murphy laid a hand on her shoulder and prayed for her “new journey.”
That journey meant splitting up our family. It meant choosing which parent to live with. It meant I stopped believing this place had answers.
I hadn’t been back since. It wasn’t too hard, since Dad was never a churchgoer, so he didn’t insist that we attend as Mom always did.
The chapel still looked the same. Worn wooden pews lined up in rigid rows.
Stained glass windows filtered morning light into soft, faded patches on the floor.
The air smelled like dust, old pine, and something vaguely floral.
Incense, maybe, or some cheap perfume clinging to the hymnals. Whatever it was, it turned my stomach.
The pastor’s office was through the left corridor.
I knew that much. I marched past the sanctuary, ignoring the curious glances of Elizabeth and Leanne, choir members, lifelong pew-warmers, and Bristlecone’s unofficial news anchors.
If someone sneezed on Main Street, those two would have the cause, symptoms, and full family medical history passed around by lunchtime.
They were arranging fresh flowers near the altar.
Elizabeth’s gaze snagged on me with thinly veiled interest, and Leanne elbowed her like she was making a mental note to bring me up at brunch.
I imagined the whole town already knew I’d spent the night at Hudson’s place.
I didn’t stop. Just kept walking.
The hall smelled even mustier than the chapel. Like old paper and furniture polish. The vestry door was slightly open.
I slowed when I reached it, as voices from inside drifted out in the hall.
“…I’m not giving you consent to do this,” Pastor Murphy said. “You want to disgrace our family because of the temptations of the flesh?”
“But, Dad, do you know how much it takes out of me to hide who I am? For your congregation’s sake?”
His son, Cameron, owned Blooming Trails flower shop. His voice was softer, harder to make out, even more so than usual.
“That’s the end of this discussion.”
I knocked—two firm raps—and the silence that followed was instant and sharp. Fabric rustled. Someone cleared their throat.
“Come in,” Pastor Murphy called.
I stepped inside. Cameron stood near the window, a cardboard box of fresh flowers in his arms, his face red. He wouldn’t look at me.
Pastor Murphy sat behind his cluttered desk, hands folded over a Bible. He still wore his collar. Still had that greasy comb-over. I used to think he was a good man.
But trust didn’t mean shit anymore.
“Matthias.” He offered a strained smile. “What a surprise. We haven’t seen you in years. What can I do for you?”
I shifted my gaze back to Cameron. “I need to talk to you in private.”
Cameron’s jaw tensed. He adjusted the box in his arms like he was trying to steady more than just the flowers. “I was just leaving anyway,” he said tightly.
Pastor Murphy gave him a look. “We’ll finish this conversation at home.”
Cameron was at least in his mid-to-late thirties. How his father could speak down to him like he was a kid didn’t sit right with me. He dipped his head and walked to the door but stopped beside me.
“You picked a hell of a day to come back,” he murmured, then glanced up at me. “Good luck.”
Our eyes met for a beat. His held something fragile.
Like he was glad I’d shown up to save him from whatever that conversation had been about.
Rumor was that he was gay, but no one could confirm it, since he was a loner, and his father talked about it negatively from the pulpit.
The poor guy was probably still a virgin.
I turned back to the pastor. Shut the door behind me. Let the silence build just long enough for it to get uncomfortable.
“What’s troubling you today, son?” Pastor Murphy asked. “Come on, sit. You can tell me anything. If I can’t help you fix it, I can pray with you about it.”
I accepted his offer of a seat, gripping the armrests. “I’m here about Hudson Granger.”
His eyes flickered in surprise. “Hudson?”
“Yes. From my understanding, you officiated his wedding to Heather Martin.”
“Oh yes.” He rose to his feet and went over to the filing cabinet in the corner. “What about it?”
“Are they legally married?”
He stopped for a couple of seconds, then turned toward me. “I just confirmed I officiated their ceremony, son. If that’s all—”
“No, that doesn’t answer the question.” I dug into my pocket for my phone. “It’s really simple. Is the marriage that you officiated between them legally recognized?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Doesn’t the God you supposedly work for have something against lying?” I rose to my feet, too tense to remain seated.
“Now listen here, young man. I don’t appreciate you taking that tone with me.
Your mother taught you better than that.
” He returned to his seat, waving his hand dismissively at me.
“Of course, since she left, your father didn’t see it fit to raise you in the church, and this is what we get.
Loose morals, no self-control, and no respect for elders. ”
“You don’t get to say a bad word about my father.”
“And why not? Everyone knows the reason your mama left him was on account of his abomination of lying with other men.” He shook his head slowly, brow knitted as though in disgust. “I mean, right now, what is he doing? Sleeping with his own son’s fiancé?
This is what happens when you don’t follow the way of the Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. You succumb to the lust of the flesh. ”
My blood boiled so hot I saw red for a second.
“Is it the Bible’s way to orchestrate a sham marriage between a man and a woman, knowing it’s unlawful?”
Pastor Murray picked up a handkerchief and wiped his forehead. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I turned the screen toward him. The photo glowed between us, Hudson’s name printed neatly in black ink. The bride’s signature? Still blank. The pastor’s signature was there as the officiant.
“You still want to sit there and tell me they’re married?”
He parted his lips, but nothing came out.
“I want to hear you say it.” I leaned forward over his desk. “Say you lied.”
He peered at the phone screen, so I pinched and widened the frame for him. He swallowed, rocking back in his chair. “This must be a mistake.”
“Bullshit.”
“Now, see here, young man—”
“No, you listen to me before I get you fired from the church. I want nothing but the truth from you. I’m not stupid.
We both know how this works. Their marriage isn’t recognized until this license is submitted to the county clerk’s office within sixty-three days of them signing.
” Yes, I’d looked up everything I needed to know in the middle of the night when I couldn’t sleep. “So much for being a man of God.”
He looked away. Just for a second. Just long enough to confirm everything. His jaw tightened, and his shoulders slumped.
“It was a mistake,” he said quietly. “She said she would sign it. That she needed some days to think about it.”
“A mistake is forgetting to bless the rings. A mistake is mixing up names in the vows. This?” I jabbed a finger toward the screen. “This was deliberate.”
“I didn’t have a choice.” He sighed and dropped his head into his hands. “She threatened to tell.”
I stared at him. “Tell what?”
He looked up, shame etched deep into the lines around his mouth.
“That we’d… that she and I had been involved.
While my wife was still alive. It was a brief affair when she joined the church, but she was a temptress who was the thorn in my side.
I ended it in less than a year, but she used it to threaten me. ”
My stomach dropped. “You slept with Heather?”
He gave a small nod. “It was a few years ago. My wife was sickly for so long, and I was lonely. I was weak, needed someone to rely on, and Heather was there. Being a man of God doesn’t mean you’re without flaws.”
Another man committing infidelity. Jesus. Was there no one worth trusting anymore? Not even the so-called righteous man?
“I’m not interested in your affair with Heather,” I said. “That’s between you and your God. I want to know how you two pulled this off without Hudson’s knowledge?”
“It wasn’t planned.” He picked up a pen from his desk and clicked the top.
“They were supposed to have a proper wedding. It was small, but some people attended to make it special for them. Hudson had no interest in anything to do with the wedding ceremony. Wouldn’t even wait for all parties to sign the license.
That’s when Heather decided not to go through with it because she saw how unwilling Hudson really was.
She told me she would think about it, sign it, then bring it to the county clerk’s. ”
“And you let an innocent man believe his marriage was valid? For four years?”
“You can’t completely blame me for this. If he had any interest in his marriage, would she have decided not to sign it?”
“There is no excuse for the part you played in this. None!”
“I’ll make it right,” he stammered. “I’ll speak to Hudson, but you can’t breathe a word about my affair with Heather. The church—”
“Deserves to crumble if you’re the one holding it up,” I snapped. “Don’t you dare go near Hudson. And if you do? I swear, the whole of Bristlecone Springs will know that the man they trusted with their confessions is another hypocrite screwing around like the rest of us so-called sinners.”
I didn’t wait for his reaction. I turned on my heel, stormed out of the pastor’s office, and let the door slam behind me hard enough to rattle the glass.