Read Magdalene for Free Online Page B

seven running a ward the size of mine and
knowing you’re on the short list for stake president.”
    He caught Bryce’s shudder out of the corner
of his eye and chuckled.
    “Now, see, this is what I like about my
situation,” Morgan said. “I don’t have to worry about being called
as bishop or anything higher than what I am. And I don’t get
stuck teaching rugrats. It’s all I can do to grin and bear all the
little bastards at family gatherings. I have my brush with
greatness being second counselor and that’s more than enough for
me.”
    Mitch stared at him. “Second counselor? I
didn’t know that.”
    He shrugged. “Lucky that way. I figure the
Lord gives me little consolations to make up for the big one I
don’t get.”
    “I empathize,” Mitch murmured as he stared
down at the table, no longer quite as amused as he had been.
Fifteen years of celibacy. At least. One did not beg a dying woman
for sex, no matter how badly one needed it.
    He had .
    Still did. Spending the past week at
Whittaker House and having to endure its three-day bacchanalian
masquerade—in complete misery—had made that perfectly clear.
    Kenard clapped him on the back and squeezed
his shoulder with a big, comforting hand. Yes, of all the people at
that table, even Morgan, Bryce understood the most. They’d talked
about it privately, the two of them; had compared notes, had given
and received solace as only people with similar experiences can do.
Had he been the bishop to hear Bryce’s confession—
    Some days he wondered if Bryce would ever
come back from his excommunication and Mitch shook his head at the
senseless waste of a believer—two, if he counted Giselle.
    If nothing else, Mitch’s long experience as
a bishop had taught him a large measure of compassion. He was just
tired of spending every free moment at church.
    He needed a vacation.
    But where would he go? With whom? His
daughters had their own families now and his son had his own life.
So what would he do there, alone? When Mina was well enough, he had
no money and no time. When he’d amassed enough cash and time to
take his family somewhere nice, Mina was too weak and he’d had too
many worries to be able to relax. He’d lived his entire life
without having gone somewhere specifically to relax and have fun.
Now that he had the cash, time, and fewer worries, he had no one to
go with.
    He waved a hand and looked up at his motley
collection of friends who looked back at him with varying degrees
of concern they tried to hide. His mouth twitched as he studied the
men. “All four of you born and bred in the Church, only one of you
eligible to hold the priesthood—and he’s gay. Nobody would believe
it.”
    The laughter, rich and sincere, broke out
again and Mitch was glad. These people, his adopted family, knew
him better than anyone, let him be himself—not dad, not CEO, not
bishop, not scientist. Just Mitch. And he did not want to be
maudlin around them.
    “Mitch?” The double doors to his office
suite opened and his assistant poked her head around. “Ms. St.
James is here.”
    He nodded and all eight of them stood to
welcome the newcomer. He regretted it, really. An unknown would put
paid to the impromptu party; the in-jokes would have to cease.
    It was only his years of training as both a
businessman and a bishop that kept his expression impassive when
Ms. St. James walked in. It was only the fact of his suit coat’s
length that kept everyone in that room from knowing how sex-starved
he must really be to react that fast to the sight of her. In her
late thirties—not mid-twenties as had been assumed—she was, at
first glance, fairly ordinary-looking.
    But not at all ordinary.
    She smiled with a calculated reserve,
noting, he was sure, that this was a table of people familiar with
each other and she was the outsider, though not the enemy. Mitch
could see that she knew they’d expected someone much younger and
that she had intended to catch them all off