Into the Light (The Light, #1)(13)

I didn’t move. My hunger suddenly waned.

What does all of that mean? What correction? Is Jacob agreeing with Brother Timothy that my suffering is because I sinned?

“Sara,” he said, lifting my chin. “You need to eat.”

He was right. I needed to eat, get strong, and get away. This wasn’t right. Everything about this wasn’t right. In my heart I knew I didn’t belong here. I reached again for the tray. This time, wordlessly, Jacob captured my hands and placed them upon my lap. Apparently, just as with the ice chips the night before, Jacob planned to feed me.

“Open.”

At that first command, my teeth clenched. I understood why he’d helped me last night, I’d been weak, but now I was relatively certain I could lift a spoon and find my mouth. Nevertheless, with just one word, he’d made it clear: food was coming, but only through him. Unable to argue, I could still refuse.

Though I entertained the thought, when the spoon touched my lip, I did as he’d said and opened my mouth. Bite by bite, my anger faded as my stomach filled. The soup—more like broth—was my favorite. I may have even hummed after the first bite. Each time it hit my tongue I savored the warmth and flavor. Even with Jacob’s careful feeding, the salty chicken broth occasionally dribbled down my chin. The first time it happened, Jacob laughed. It wasn’t loud, barely a scoff, but it made me smile. I couldn’t remember my husband’s laugh. Since I’d awakened, I’d mostly heard his anger and commands. Surely there was more to our marriage than that. It wasn’t until the soup and Jell-O were finished that he placed a small roll into my hands.

“Here’s a little bread. You can probably handle this on your own.”

I nodded, rolling the bread between my hands, assessing the size. Lifting it to my nose, I inhaled the scent. When I placed it between my teeth, the hard outer crust gave way to a soft warm center. Each bite melted in my mouth as I sparingly nibbled. I didn’t want it to end, but as it did, I realized that it was the chewing I enjoyed as much as the roll. Deprivation formed the strangest needs. All too soon the roll was gone, and a straw appeared at my lips.

“Dr. Newton said to go easy on liquids, but here’s some water.”

I pursed my lips and sucked. The cool water reminded me that my throat felt better, even better than it had the day before. At the sound of his name, I remembered the doctor’s promise to return. Just as the thought occurred, I heard the door open.

“Doctor,” Jacob said, perhaps to inform me of who’d entered.

“I assume you’re ready for me?”

I nodded, forgetting that rarely did anyone speak to me.

“Yes,” Jacob replied. “Sara’s finished her meal. Assuming her body handles it, I want her to have a larger portion for dinner.”

Dinner? I guess I just ate lunch?

I had no way to judge time. Hearing that the day was only half-over filled my mind with a mixture of thoughts. While the promise of more food excited me, the idea of spending more time in this dark, unfamiliar life made me uneasy. Silently I longed for the familiarity of my dreams.

“We’ll need to assess . . .”

Jacob reached for my hand. “She’s lost entirely too much weight. I’m not sure of the amount, but she’s skin and bones.”

“Sister Sara,” Dr. Newton began. “I need to complete your examination. Then we’ll discuss your injuries. Do you understand?”

I nodded, feeling Jacob’s reassuring squeeze. With the slightest shift, his callused fingers caressed my knuckles, and I wondered what Jacob did for a living. From his hand I guessed that he worked hard physically, and when he’d carried me to the bathroom, I’d sensed how much bigger he was than I.

What did my accident do to his work? What about me? What do I do?

As my bed reclined for my examination, I realized the man holding my hand had argued for me, supported and assisted me, yet I didn’t know him.

Do I love him? Does he love me?

No matter how hard I searched the recesses of my mind, the answers mocked me, willfully staying beyond my reach.





CHAPTER 5


Jacob


I wanted to see her eyes. Over thirty years of studying people, reading them, and somehow I’d forgotten that eyes were key. Without them I had only secondary and insignificant clues.

I understood why she wasn’t allowed to see, at least not yet. Just because the psychology made sense didn’t mean I approved. Taking a wife had been my duty, responsibility, and obligation to The Light. I’d seen and agreed with the process in the past—but that had been in theory and from a distance. This was up close and personal.

I’d known that eventually my time would come. I’d hoped it wouldn’t, that I could avoid it, but refusing a wife when she was presented wasn’t an option. Taking on this responsibility cemented my bond to The Light and solidified my standing in the community. My compliance and cooperation assured Father Gabriel, the Commission, and the Assembly of my faithfulness.

My gaze darted to Sara’s face. Her hand had just clamped into a tight ball within my grasp. Though I couldn’t see her eyes, her lower lip blanched from the tight hold of her teeth. Damn, she’d bite clean through it if she didn’t stop putting it in that vise grip. I’d seen the drops of blood earlier today when I’d returned her to her bed. At least this time, I wasn’t the cause of her lip-biting. This reaction was caused by the movement of the bed as Dr. Newton reclined it. I guessed it was the damn broken rib or ribs. Why Raquel hadn’t rewrapped it after Sara’s shower, I didn’t know. I would say something, but then she’d probably be corrected. They might even decide to replace her as Sara’s main caregiver. I didn’t want that.