Stranger Ranger by Daisy Prescott

Author:Daisy Prescott
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Smartypants Romance
Published: 2020-05-18T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

DAPHNE

I ’m out of sorts, living in a constant state of frustration. Everything makes me bristle.

Could be PMS, but I think it’s deeper than hormones.

At the end of work yesterday, Griffin told me he spoke to Odin and confirmed he wasn’t doing anything illegal. The turkey tail mushrooms in his possession were well under the daily limit.

Why anyone would want an entire backpack full of fungus is beyond me. No less strange than apples.

Nothing about that man makes sense.

He took care of me when I took too many antihistamines and also smelled like a disgruntled skunk.

I’m bothered I was wrong about him being up to no good, and that bothers me.

I need to change the channel in my brain. Some people might meditate or practice yoga or go for a run to work out the bad energy. I am not among those people.

Tired of being in my own head, I set my alarm extra early Friday night so I can have some time before my Saturday shift. After I make tea in my travel mug, I head out on foot from my cabin, following a familiar route into the woods. As the white steeple appears between the trees, I exhale some of the tightness in my chest. Whenever I’m struggling, I return to the chapel to clear my mind.

This time I triple-check that the door is closed behind me before slipping into a pew.

Inside, time pauses as a quiet peace settles over me. I bow my head and breathe.

Unbidden, the words of the Lord’s Prayer flow through my mind. Like a mantra, I repeat the lines from memory. When I get to the part about forgiving others and ourselves for our trespasses, I pause.

Our debts. Our sins. Our mistakes. Our ignorance. I often substitute another word for trespass because I’ve always imagined the most straightforward definition of unlawfully being on private property and felt it didn’t apply to me.

Until today.

“Ha ha. Thanks for being obvious.”

Me sitting in this church, using it as my personal sanctuary isn’t quite the same as breaking the law, but it could be considered against the rules. I’m not doing any harm by sitting here.

Neither are Odin and Patsy, no more so than the donkey, and less than many tourists who clomp along the trails.

Beyond the obvious interpretation, I shouldn’t let some random, unsubstantiated information on the internet change my opinion of Odin. We all have a past and actions we’d prefer to forget.

“Okay, I get it. Message received. Thanks.”

As much as he’s the town weirdo, I doubt Odin thinks he has conversations with the divine in an empty old chapel.

Feeling better, I fold my hands in prayer and say, “Amen.”

This time there’s no echo, no open door when I look up.

I pick up my mug and take a moment to listen to the stillness, confirming to myself that I imagined the second amen last time.

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