Free The Last Sin Eater by Francine Rivers Page B

stumbled. Catching myself up before I fell, I lunged on. Something was coming fast, bounding behind me, catching up. I could hear it gaining ground. The thump and rustle of leaves warned me of its swift advance. Turning, I saw a dark shadow streaking toward me. I had never seen an animal move as fast as that big cat did. My thoughts froze; I couldn’t move. Its sleek body bunched and then stretched out long as it leaped.
    And then it let out a fearsome scream, for something struck it. I heard the thud and saw the beast spasm in midair and fall clumsily. The beast rose again, nervous and snarling viciously. Crouching, it crept closer to me—ears flattened, fangs bared in a deep roar. There was another thud, and the beast gave a sharp cry of pain, swinging to the side to face its hidden attacker. It let out a scream of rage as it was struck a third time, then bounded off into the forest again.
    Panting, heart racing, I didn’t move.
    “Go on home now, Cadi Forbes,” came a low voice from the dark shadows of the forest.
    I knew that voice. I had heard it once before in the graveyard the night Granny was buried.
    All reason fled. With a cry, I ran. I raced as fast as my legs could carry me across the meadows. My breath came out with each step, my heart pounding in my ears. Clambering up the hill, I bumped and scraped myself. Bounding up the steps of the cabin, I burst in the door, slammed it, and threw my body back against it.
    Papa was standing near the fire with Mama, the rifle tucked under his arm, barrel down. They both glanced around sharply at my entrance. Mama took one long look at me up and down, shut her eyes, and turned away. Head down, her shoulders shook. Papa slammed the rifle back into its mount and came toward me. His relief was short-lived. “You’re all wet.”
    “I slipped in the creek, Papa.” It was a lie, but if I told him I was on the other side of the river, he’d use the belt on me. I was still shaking from what had happened and scared enough to lose water. I didn’t need more torment.
    He was not fooled. His mouth pulled down, his eyes narrowing in anger. “Adding lies to everything else, are ye, Cadi girl?”
    A cold chill washed over me at the tone of his voice.
    “Go wash up, Cadi,” Mama said, her back still to me.
    “And after ye do that, ye con go to the woodshed and wait for me thar.”
    Shoulders slumping and still trembling, I went back outside. I took a long, slow look around before I went down those stairs. I wondered if the sin eater was still out there in the darkness and mists watching me. There was wash water in the bucket. Staring off downhill toward the woods, I splashed some on my face and arms and then washed my hands. Shivering, I went to the woodshed and closed myself in. Sitting in the darkness, I waited for Papa.
    He came with his belt. I could tell the anger had gone out of him. “I take no pleasure in this, Cadi.”
    “I know, Papa.”
    He disciplined me without another word. I didn’t cry for his sake. “I’m sorry, Papa,” I said when he was done.
    “Being sorry ain’t enow,” he said grimly. “Ye ought to know that by now.” He left me alone.
    I cried. Oh how I cried and pondered my sins. Seemed every day they grew heavier and harder to bear. They seemed to master me for I could not understand myself at all. I wanted to do right, but nothing I did turned out that way. I always ended up doing the wrong I hated. And even as I was doing it, like looking for the sin eater in spite of all warnings against it, I knew perfectly well what I was doing and did it anyway. I couldn’t help myself. It seemed sin was inside me making me do wrong. No matter which way I turned, I couldn’t make myself do right.
    And it was going to get worse because I wasn’t going to stop looking for the sin eater. I was going to keep on until I found the one who could help me. And I was going to steal some of Mama’s preserves to try to draw him down from his mountain hiding