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To Mikhal
A week after Greer had slept with Mikhal and he was standing before God, taking vows that he couldn't possibly mean. As he spoke them, as he was ordained, he was begging for absolution from his transgression. But succumbing to temptation was not a reason to throw his life completely off course. God was forgiving and the hundreds of Hail Marys and hours of penetant contemplation was surely enough to show that he was sorry. Unfortunately, during those hours of contemplation, he also found himself thinking about Mikhal and the night they'd spent together. It was torture, but Greer hadn't chosen this path because he thought it was going to be easy.

When he saw the position opening in Coldwater, he stared at it for a long time. Was this another seed of temptation? Openings in that sleepy little town were nearly impossible to fill and even harder to keep filled. Something about that place chased the chastened away. But the parishners there needed a priest just as much as they did anywhere else, and Greer knew that he was more qualified for the job than any of his graduating class. Being of the magical persuasion, he had the unique ability to help Coldwater with its--stranger--issues of faith.

That's how he ended up in the little church at the end of the road, nestled on the outskirts of town. It was lovely, really, mountains practically riding up against the backdoor. It was a small congregation, but one that seemed to welcome him instantly. News of his arrival spread like it would in any smaller town with so few options for worship. He had to wonder if Mikhal knew he was there. When he went walking at night, he found himself slipping closer and closer to the neighborhood that was the most likely to house a mansion like Mikhal had described that belonged to Bernadette.