Free The Priest's Well (The Greek Village Collection Book 12) by Sara Alexi

white apron, tending his domestic needs.
    The bishop has chosen the right man. Savvas doubts that there is another priest in all of Greece who is as sharp as him when it comes to funding. The bishopric is his for the taking. All he needs to do is a little work here and there. His first task will be to acquire the grand house for the church. He jots down a note to himself to call Babis the village lawyer.
    ‘I hear you, Bishop.’
    ‘Good man, good man. And I will see what I can do about authorising a small air conditioning unit.’
    Savvas mutters his response, suddenly distracted by a thought he is amazed he has not had before. Doesn’t that man who was praying so earnestly in church last Sunday own an electrical shop in Saros? Perhaps he needs some spiritual guidance, someone to pray with him, ease his concerns. But he will not tell the bishop this until it is done. Getting this man to install air conditioning at no cost to the church will be the first of many little successes that he will have that he can draw to the bishop’s attention, making him the obvious man to fill his shoes when he is ready to retire.
    There are goats in his olive grove now. A tall, barrel-chested man is walking with a measured pace amongst them. The bells around the animals’ necks ring out an idyllic cantata; the occasional warbled throaty aria accompanies. Savvas stabs his phone to bring up Babis’ number and arranges a meeting. Babis might also know the name, and maybe other things, of the man who owns the electrical shop in Saros.
    It has been a roller coaster of an emotional ride settling into the village, but if he can keep his mind where it is now, firmly set on the needs of the church, all that he deserves will follow.
    There is a tap on the door, which startles him as he did not expect Babis so soon. The door pushes open before he can reply, so he knows it is Nefeli.
    ‘Here is your cassock, Papas, all washed.’ She hangs it on the back of the door on a coat hanger she has brought with her.
    ‘Thank you.’
    Then she goes straight to the sink and begins washing up the pots from his breakfast. He is so used to her being around now that her presence no longer disturbs him. She actually calms him with her quiet movements, her grace, and her tidiness. Although she still does not speak a great deal, she seems to have grown comfortable with him, too. He certainly does not feel towards her as Sotos felt. What he feels is far more gentle.
    She takes the broom and starts to sweep. Now that the heat is upon them, the dust seems to grow out of the floorboards almost hourly. Nefeli is very conscientious and not only sweeps but mops his little cottage every day. The motes spin and dance in the sunbeams, her white apron blindingly clean in the light, her hair glistening as it falls over her face.
    He should broach the subject of her moving into the cottage before Babis is here.
    ‘Nefeli, how would you like to move back home?’ It comes out rather more direct then he envisaged.
    The sweeping stops. She looks at him, her pale eyes accentuated by her wide pupils.
    ‘I mean back here, into the cottage,’ he clarifies.
    ‘No.’ She sweeps on.
    ‘Why?’
    ‘Because Mama she is used to where she is and it is hers for life.’
    ‘And?’ He softens his voice, sensing she has more to say.
    ‘And if I moved back here, how can I be sure there is security for her life?’
    ‘In the same way that you had when you used to live here.’
    ‘The cottage came with the job. The church can take both away. It is not enough now she is as she is.’ Another rise of motes in the sunlight as her broom takes action again.
    ‘I could do the same with this cottage as my predecessor did with the big house. I could legally write it over to you.’
    ‘She is familiar with the big house.’ The broom is set to one side and the mop bucket is filled.
    ‘Nefeli, I am not about to make you homeless. As long as I am here, you are assured of your position.’ From