Chapter 2: Plunging Into Temptation
The lantern’s soft glow illuminated the hayloft, casting golden halos over the piles of hay. The night was quiet, save for the distant hum of crickets in the fields below. Marybeth Yoder sat on the edge of the wooden beam, her heart pounding like a hymn sung off-tempo. She was supposed to be at home, knitting by the fire and reciting scripture for her younger siblings. Instead, she was here—in the loft—waiting.
The ladder creaked.
“Marybeth?” Elijah’s voice, low and steady, sent a shiver down her spine.
She swallowed hard before answering. “I’m here.”
Elijah climbed up, his shoulders broad enough to make the lantern sway as he reached the top. He dusted off his suspenders, the hay clinging to them like memories he couldn’t shake. His hair was slightly tousled from the climb, and Marybeth thought he looked like some biblical hero—a David who had wrestled the elements instead of Goliath.
“You shouldn’t have come,” she whispered, more to herself than to him.
“And yet you waited,” Elijah replied, stepping closer. “That must count for something.”
Marybeth looked down at her hands, clasped tightly in her lap. “What are we doing, Elijah? This... isn’t right.”
Elijah knelt before her, his gaze unwavering. “Do you know what the scriptures say about temptation?”
Marybeth nodded. “‘Lead us not into temptation.’”
Elijah leaned closer, his voice barely a whisper. “Aye. But it also says we’ll never be tested beyond what we can bear. Perhaps... this is just a test of strength.”
Marybeth’s breath caught in her throat. She had always thought of temptation as something wild and sinful—bright red apples in dark gardens. She hadn’t expected it to feel like this: quiet, reverent, like a prayer said too close to the heart.
Elijah reached for her hand. “You work so hard to stay strong, Marybeth. But strength isn’t always about resisting... Sometimes, it’s about knowing what’s worth holding on to.”
The lantern flickered, its flame bowing to the night breeze. Marybeth’s fingers trembled as Elijah’s hand closed around hers, warm and calloused from carpentry. His touch felt like the answer to a question she hadn’t dared to ask.
“Elijah, what if someone finds out?”
He smiled, a slow, soft thing. “Then they’ll know I care for you.”
Marybeth looked up into his eyes—steadfast as ever. She wasn’t sure whether it was defiance or devotion, but something in her heart tilted in his direction. Slowly, she nodded. “Then let them know.”
The hay beneath them whispered as they sat side by side. Elijah reached into his pocket and pulled out something wrapped in cloth. “I brought you something.”
Marybeth blinked in surprise as he unfolded the cloth to reveal a small, simple wooden pendant—hand-carved in the shape of a dove.
“For peace,” Elijah murmured. “In case the world gets loud.”
Her fingers brushed the pendant, tracing the carved wings. She felt the weight of it—not in her hands, but somewhere deeper, somewhere hidden.
“Elijah... it’s beautiful.”
“So are you.” His words settled in the space between them, warm and unhurried.
For a moment, the world outside the loft ceased to exist. There was no gossiping village, no judgmental elders—only the soft hum of lantern light and the steady, rhythmic beating of two hearts.
Marybeth closed her eyes, listening. She didn’t know if this was a sin or salvation. She only knew one thing for sure: she wasn’t alone anymore.
Next Chapter:
- Coming soon: Chapter 3—“A Reckoning of Hearts”