Page 6 of Damnation (Gallows Hill)

Chapter Four

Sarah

A s I finish tying my bonnet around my head, my fingers trail down my neck, resting on the sensitive skin that Thomas touched.

It has been six nights since we… I can’t even bear to think it in my own head.

I’m completely unsure of what came over me, of what came over us both.

More so, I have been praying and begging God to help me each day since, because where I should feel guilt and disgust, I feel…

joy, excitement, desire. Not only am I not ashamed, I want it again, him again. I want…more.

Pushing those sinful thoughts away, I intend to clear my head before my family and I head to this morning’s service at the church.

William did not take to drink last night, I assume due to the fact he has run out of our money.

Dorothy and I would be long starved if it wasn’t for what Thomas had given us last week.

I’ll accept William’s purchases as a blessing, though, because when the bottle is dry and long gone, he is my William once more.

Not a loving man, nor a kind one, but he is not a harmful one either, and for that, I am grateful.

“Make haste, Sarah. We shall need to leave immediately,” he says as he steps into the room.

I nod in obedience as I look down at our daughter. Dorothy is dressed as neatly as I was able, her hair perfectly tucked beneath her bonnet as she smiles up at me.

“We are ready,” I say, holding my hand out for Dorothy’s as she slips it into my own.

William nods, straightening his black hair and coat before leading us through the door.

The sun is bright this morning, giving promises to a new day.

If I am correct, ‘tis also a new moon tonight. The moon has such wonderful properties to be harnessed on a day such as this. My tonics and aides are often amplified beneath a full moon’s collection.

Once William has gone to sleep, I’ll slip out of the house to do my gatherings and bring Sarah Osborne my items in the morning.

Depending on her mood, I may even earn enough to buy Dorothy a new dress or shoes.

The walk to the town’s church is not long at all, and soon enough, we are stepping inside the wooden building, taking a seat in a pew towards the back.

The front of the church is reserved for those who deem themselves the holiest and purest of the town.

Surely, a beggar woman and her drunkard of a husband would never earn such a title.

Reverend Parris is at the front, encouraging his daughter Betty and niece Abigail to take a seat. Several prying eyes meet my own, displeasure at our attendance abundantly clear on their faces. I pay them no mind, though, as I focus my eyes forward and listen with intention.

“Brothers, sisters, what a blessed day to live in God’s glory,” the reverend booms. “Let us take prayer in the blessing of us coming together.”

We all close our eyes, bowing our heads as he leads us in prayer.

“God, we thank thee for thy gifts you have displayed upon us this week. Crops and cattle are in abundance from your blessings. Ailments are being healed, and lives are being created, all to you. We ask that you guide us through your will this next week, as we open our hearts and minds to follow you more diligently, feverishly, and wholly. Amen.”

“Amen,” the congregation agrees as we all look up once more.

When I do, my eyes blink open to land on one face in particular.

Thomas.

He’s turned into his seat, his eyes on me. ‘Tis not for long, and his expression lacks much depth. His eyes, though. They sear into my skin, as if they could see into my very soul. The softest smile touches his mouth in a secretive way that sends a fluttering feeling rushing through me.

In the next moment, he is turning around, his wife Ann looking around the room as if to find what holds her husband’s interest so. It takes everything in me not to meet her eyes, as I feign interest in Reverend Parris’s sermon.

The reverend goes on for a long while about being pure for God. Following his will and order and the consequences that fall if you shall not. I must say, the timing of the sermon feels quite coincidental. Then again, that could be the rising guilt inside me speaking.

Once the sermon is over, everyone begins filing out of the church, making their way on for the day.

Near the doors, things get quite crowded, and soon, bodies are jostled and bumping into one another.

I try to navigate through, keeping Dorothy close, when a hand grabs mine.

I look around and meet Thomas’s eyes as he pushes what feels like a piece of parchment into my hand.

I frown in confusion before he forces my hand to close around the parchment, his touch sending goosebumps to race against my skin before he’s slipping back into the crowd.

My heart beat is racing as I discreetly attempt to tuck the parchment into the waist of my skirt.

My eyes are begging to afford me the knowledge of what he has written, but my mind knows better than to risk it here.

William is three paces ahead of us, but all it would take is one look back.

Impatiently, I wait until we are home, excusing myself to the outhouse before shutting the door behind me. Once I do, I hastily pull the parchment out, relieved that it is still there, his script beautifully marking the small page.

Meet me by the creek when the moon is at the peak.

Tonight? I have so much to do beneath the full moon.

Perhaps if I start soon enough, I will be finished in time.

Am I really doing this? Are we? We are planning an unchaperoned meeting yet again.

The last time was an accident, a mistake, you may say.

This…this is filled with intention and promise as to what will come.

And I can hardly wait.

I slipped a tonic into William’s water. It was a mild sleeping tonic, one he will awake in the morning, drowsy, but well.

Nevertheless, I’m a vile woman who is more and more hell bound by the moment.

I had no choice, though. Without drink, he cannot sleep, and I needed him to.

I have work to do and I have…Thomas. From the moment I read those words on the parchment, I felt as if I could not catch my breath. Not yet again until I saw him.

With one more glance to assure myself Dorothy was sound asleep, accompanied by a snoring William, I made my way out to the creek.

I brought along some tonic that I created earlier, as well as some stones I reserve for special times such as these.

Once bathed in the moonlight, I begin the practices my mother taught me, cleansing the stones and blessing the tonics with the gift of moonlight.

So many would see me at the end of a rope for such things.

The small minds of the townsfolk cannot separate the idea of evil influence from the Devil himself and harnessing the gifts and power God has granted the sun, moon, and earth.

What I do is only evil if I hold evil intent.

I have never, and would never, do such things, but I know better than to allow anyone the knowledge of my practices.

My hands are wrapped around a stone as I finish cleansing it when a snap comes from the distance.

My eyes fly open in alert as I peer around in the darkness until a familiar figure steps beneath the moonlight.

Quickly, I drop the stone beside my tonics in the basket I brought before covering them with my bonnet.

I reside on one side of the creek while Thomas is on the other.

He pauses for a moment at the edge, a smile carving his face that sends that familiar fluttering feeling inside of me before he starts towards me.

Long, purposeful steps carry him through the rushing water of the creek, his boots sloshing through until he makes his arrival on my side.

I expect him to greet me, to ask of my day and night, or something of the sort. I did not expect him to close the distance between us, not a sound nor a word escaping him before his lips are on my own.

The air is stolen from my lungs in an instant as I feel my heartbeat in my chest with a fierceness like nothing else. His large hands brace my face tenderly, as if I am the greatest treasure he has ever experienced. When he pulls away, his breath is ragged and rough as his low voice calls to me.

“Good evening, my love.”

I cannot stop the smile that adorns my face at the name he has chosen for me.

This is absolute madness. No care to the months, years, if I’m honest, that I’ve watched him, this is all moving so quickly.

Too quickly. At least my mind tells me so, my body assures me that I have always been Thomas’s. That I was always meant to be.

“Good evening.” I smile.

“I missed thee…so,” he speaks, shaking his head as if the distance pained him.

“As did I.”

He leans in once more, his lips moving against my own before his arms come beneath my legs, lifting me into the air.

I squirm at the suddenness before he is walking with me in his arms, leading us to a tree.

The strength of his arms has me in awe as he presses my back against the tree, lifting the skirt of my dress up before pushing my undergarments down and forcing himself inside me.

A pleasured moan escapes me as he groans.

“Right where I belong,” he says as he begins thrusting in and out of me.

Pleasure sparks inside me with each touch, our mouths still pressed to one another as he continues. This sinful act would be so much more abhorrent if it didn’t feel so decadent. My legs intertwine around his back, pushing him deeper inside me.

“Sarah,” he moans. “I ache for you, more than anything in this world. You are my greatest desire. ‘Tis unfathomable to have you in my arms like so. I’ve thought about nothing but for so long.”

I nod my agreement as another moan escapes me.

“As have I, for months.”

He pauses for a moment, his eyes burrowing into my own.

“Longer, my love. So much longer.”

My stomach flips at that as he continues thrusting into me.

To know he has desired me for as long as I have him, for longer, it secures something inside of me.

It gives way to a justification of sorts, though I’m sure there is not a soul alive who would see it the way we do.

‘Tis okay, though. The only person’s approval I require is Thomas’s.

“Finish with me, my love. I want to feel you finish around me,” Thomas practically begs.

There is something so meaningful about a powerful man like Thomas begging for someone like me. As I look into his eyes, a warmth spreads inside me. Something more than just lust or desire. Something far too powerful to come to fruition as quickly as it has. But it has, and ‘tis glorious.

Pleasure rolls through my body from the tips of my toes to the top of my head.

My body shakes in his arms as I lose all control of myself, only existing in a space made up of pleasure and joy.

Thomas follows along, jerking inside me as the warmth of his release fills me.

What a terrible mistake we have just made.

My cycle is linked to the moon in perfect harmony.

The dangers of what could come of this moment are high, and I can’t help but pray God doesn’t allow that to happen, as if he would lift a finger for a sinner like me.