Who: Ruth and Mal When: January 2017, Sunday, midday Where: Word of the Redeemer Fellowship church Warnings: Sexual/Suggestive thoughts. Status: Complete
Mal had found settling back in Point Pleasant to be an interesting experience so far. He and Sam and the few others who had also come from New York had been there for roughly three months now, and he thought the church was doing well. It had taken several weeks to really get set up and started, but he saw new faces in the pews every week. Word was getting around. That was good. The more pliable minds he had around him, to absorb his and God’s full message, the better.
Being back in the town itself, for only the second time he could recall, seemed to be having a strange energizing effect on him. He’d been born here, on this ground, but he didn’t remember living there at all. Only in the Institute. Then he’d returned ... somewhere in his late teens. That visit was fuzzy in his memory, something all the drugs they’d had him on for years had torn holes in, like so much else from that time period. He knew he had been there, he knew he had slipped his guard, he knew he’d experienced some real freedom for a change, but the details escaped him. He also hadn’t remembered how it felt to be in Point Pleasant. He’d gone for walks through the snow when they’d first arrived, exploring the town and opening himself up to the minds that moved past him. There was a darkness here, he could sense it. More so than any other ‘normal’ place he could remember being. It was lingering under people’s thoughts, some fear that wasn’t entirely rational.
To Mal, that just meant God had led him to the right place. Point Pleasant needed to be cleansed, and he was the only one who could do it.
It was still the early days of the church, and Mal was adept at reading the political climate around him, so to speak. It was a survival mechanism, he wouldn’t have made it as far as he had otherwise. So the sermon he preached that morning was a low key one, full of the mercy that God had for His obedient children. While he talked, he’d been listening. Not to himself, but the thoughts of those in front of him. As it so often did, his attention drifted toward a girl in the congregation. He’d noticed her -- he’d been helpless to, with all that red hair -- the first week she and her family had turned up at his doors. Mal had been drawn to her in more ways than one. He’d caught some glimpses of her thoughts, and they were intriguing so far.
Once the service was over, Mal made his way to the door to shake hands and say goodbyes to his growing flock. And to hopefully separate one particular little lamb out for closer inspection.
The end of the service came too soon. The end of it meant she had to leave and she didn't want to do that. Ruth liked being at the church, liked listening to Mal preaching the Word, liked listening to Mal period. His voice was soothing and powerful; she could listen to it all day. She wished she could hear it more than just once a week, but she couldn't. She wasn't allowed the chance.
Unlike her siblings, Ruth spent little time at the church beyond services. It wasn't that she didn't want to be there, she did, but her parents preferred she not pollute the church with her presence longer than was needed. So when Eli and the others would engage in other church activities, Ruth was sent home to continue worship by herself. It was lonely, but that is how it had been for many years and would never change.
She trailed behind her family as they went to exit the church, keeping a close eye on Eli but keeping her distance. While her parents willingly claimed her as part of the family, they didn't necessarily like associating with her while at church. Oh, she would sit with them, but that was about it. They were embarrassed, ashamed of her.
One by one her family passed by Mal, shaking his hand and complimenting him on his sermon. When it finally reached her turn to interact with the preacher, Ruth's head lowered. "That was a wonderful sermon," she said softly, meekly.
Mal was very aware of where the Collins family was in line, and that little redheaded Ruth was the last one. Always the last one, like the runt of the litter, falling behind. He warmly greeted the Collins parents, the other children ... and then Ruth was in front of him, dropping her eyes. She looked so submissive and soft and pretty, the smile that crossed his face was almost genuine. “Why thank you very much,” he said, his tone warm and sincere. Mal offered his hand out to Ruth to shake, putting it in her line of sight. “I don’t believe we’ve formally met ... Ruth, isn’t it?” Even if she hadn’t already caught his attention, her name would’ve been easy to pluck out of her mind, but Mal didn’t need to this time.
Ruth stole a quick glance when he addressed her but kept her head lowered. Her lips upturned into a small smile and her cheeks felt warm. He was smiling. He was going out of his way to talk to her and smiling while doing so. It made her heart flutter. Few bothered to interact with her and hardly anyone smiled while doing so. Eli would. He would always smile for her. Spying Mal's extended hand, she lifted her head so she could address him properly and took his hand in hers. Her eyes widened when he said her name and her cheeks turned pink. She stood there, stunned. He knew her name. She didn't think he even knew she existed let alone knew her name. "I -- yes. You're right. Ruth Collins," she confirmed timidly, smiling some. "It's nice to meet you. Formally."
Her hand felt like a tiny bird in his, small and delicate. Breakable. Mal didn’t really shake it, just enveloped it in his, then put his other hand over top. His smile widened a bit when she looked at him, and those rosy cheeks gave him a little flutter of his own. She had to be in her mid-teens, but she still had a young face, and he liked that. “Likewise, Miss Collins,” he said gently, sure she would get a thrill out of that, too. Mal gave her hand a soft squeeze then let go, not wanting to hold on for too long with her parents right there. He arched a brow at Ruth as if something just occurred to him. “Are you busy this afternoon? I have a few things I need to get done, and I could use an extra pair of hands ...” Mal glanced questioningly at Ruth’s parents, but it was brief, and his eyes came back to her, as if her answer mattered the most.
Her smile grew. She was taking great joy in this encounter, more than she would ever admit. Hearing the man she had come to admire over the last couple months speaking her name so warmly and feeling his large hands around hers sent a tingle through her body. Her smile faded somewhat when he released her hand, a little disappointed that their contact had to end. She immediately perked up, however, when he asked her about staying. Her head turned to her parents, anxiously awaiting an answer. It didn't matter how much she wanted to say yes; she knew that they were ultimately the ones that decided if she could stay. Her parents exchanged glances, silently discussing her fate through their gaze before bringing their attention to Mal. Not Ruth. They looked as if they wanted to say something, but all they did was nod.
The smile returned to her face, brighter and wider than before. "I'd love to help," she answered eagerly with a quick nod.
Mal opened his mind up to the thoughts of the Collins adults, reaching out to feel the shape of them, hunting for any doubt they might have about leaving their daughter in his care. If he found any, it would be easy enough to squash for the moment. He had to be careful in these early days -- not everyone understood every part of him. Nor should they be expected to; God worked in mysterious ways, and so did Mal. He didn’t hear much concern from them, at least not about him being some sort of predator, so Mal left their minds to their own devices, and gave a pleased smile when they acquiesced. Little Ruth was practically beaming, and that was just delightful. “Excellent,” he said to all of them. “Thank you. I’ll ensure that she gets home safely.” Mal motioned for Ruth to stand next to him, as there were a few other people still waiting behind the Collinses to be seen off. Duty first, then pleasure.
Ruth was happy beyond belief. Never in her wildest dreams did she believe such good fortune would befall her. First she was actually noticed by Mal, then asked to help him, and now she had been given the permission to stay without a single argument or alternative suggestion - she was sure they would have insisted one of the other children stay instead of her - from her parents? It was too good to be true.
At Mal's behest, Ruth quickly moved out of the line and settled herself by his side. She smiled over at Eli and gave him a tiny wave of goodbye, watching him leave the building. When she could no longer see him, she let her gaze drop to the floor with hands clasped in front of her as she patiently waited for the other parishioners to get their turn with Mal.
Everything coming out of Ruth’s mind -- because Mal was certainly listening -- was pure joy. It was encouraging to hear. There was something dejected about her, and he was beginning to suspect she wasn’t treated very well at home, which could only be good for his purposes. He made note of how she focused in on her older brother Eli, and filed that tidbit away. Mal continued on autopilot, shaking hands and smiling and telling everyone to have a good afternoon, the Lord was with them.
Once the last of his flock had trailed out, Mal returned his attention to Ruth. He gave her a more lopsided smile, brushing his hands off on the sides of his pants. “Well,” he said to her. “I’m glad you could stay. Come with me back to the office ... are you thirsty? Hungry? Anything?” He started to walk in that direction, around the back of the pews toward the doors to their left that led to the rooms set into the side of the sanctuary.
Her head tilted ever so slightly when he flashed her the lopsided smile. It wasn't like the one he had been giving everyone going through the line. It seemed more casual, more relaxed. He was allowing himself to loosen up, let his hair down as it were. At least that is how Ruth saw it. She hoped that was the case. She liked thinking she was getting the opportunity to see a side of Mal the rest of the congregation didn't get to witness.
Ruth hurried after him, doing her best to keep up with his pace. "Ah, no, I'm okay, thank you." She wasn't being entirely truthful. She could have gone for a cup of water, but she didn't want to bother him. He had things he needed to get done; she didn't want to be the reason he had to put it off. She didn't want him unhappy with her. “If I may ask…,” she started quietly, seeming a little hesitant. “What is it you wished my help for?”
She was so cute and meek, it made Mal’s insides squirm in a delightful sort of way that he hadn’t felt in quite a while. He had Sam -- he loved Sam -- but a man’s heart was always craving the next thing. Perhaps little Ruth with her red hair and sweet blush was it. Mal held the door for her to the hallway that led to his office, his gaze nothing but friendly for the moment. “Just some papers to sort and organize, some copies to be made. Administrative things that are way more fun with company.” He grinned at her at the last part, making it sound kind of conspiratorial, like they could goof off together. “Hope you don’t mind. Many hands makes for light work, you know.”
Ruth passed through the door with a small nod of appreciation and paused, waiting for him to lead the way. She looked up at him, noting his grin and the almost playful tone of his words. It brought a shy smile to her face. "I don't mind at all," she quickly assured. "I'm happy to help in anyway I can anytime you need me." She always wanted to be helpful, but there was a hint of selfishness to her offer. Now that she had caught a glimpse of a more laidback Mal and tasted his kindness, she wanted to keep experiencing it.
Of course she was, the sweet little lamb. Mal liked his followers helpful, eager to please him. Especially the ones he kept the closest. He moved around her to escort her down the hall to the office at the very end of it. Mal pulled his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door. It wasn’t a very fancy office, but it had carpet, and the austerity of it lended itself well to his purposes. There was a modest desk with a closed laptop and a few paper trays, a simple office chair behind it, and a couple of plastic ones in front. There were a couple of bookshelves loaded with Bibles and resource books, volumes of history with dozens of bookmarks peeking out of the tops of them. A few filing cabinets and an obviously used copy machine took up the other side of the office. The only adornment on the walls was the wooden cross that hung above where Mal sat.
He walked with Ruth to the filing cabinets and smiled at her again as he opened one of the drawers. “Do you know how to work a copier?” he asked as he riffled through a few files to find what he wanted.
Ruth's eyes scanned the room from where she stood by the door. This was the first time she had ever been to his office. To any priest's office really. She hadn't been particularly close with the preacher at her last church so the opportunity never arose to visit it. She took a special interest in the bookshelf and nearly went to it so she could see what it possessed, but refrained. Mal hadn't asked her to his office to browse books. "I do," she answered with a small smile and a nod. She would often copy pages from the books at the library, usually pictures or a favorite blurb of text so she could revisit them at home.
“Great,” Mal said, pulling a couple of manilla file folders free of the cabinet. He pulled a few papers out of them and stuck them in a particular order. They were lesson plans for the younger kids of the congregation; he was seeing more and more of them, and if he was going to recruit someone to work with him to run it, he needed something to show them. Mal of course could’ve done all of this himself, but he took much more pleasure in having a pretty little lamb do it for him. “I need about ... ten copies of this stack,” he told Ruth, offering the papers over to her with another smile.
Ruth nodded once again. "Okay. Ten copies each." Taking the papers, she made the short journey to the copier. Her eyes moved over the buttons and she froze. This copier was different from the one at the library. The library's was newer, the buttons marked clearly and with instructions written on a sign next to it so anyone could use it without bothering the librarians. This one was older and the text that informed the user of what each button did was faded beyond recognition. Her mind started racing. She didn't know how to use the copier. She told Mal she knew and yet she didn't. What was she going to do? She couldn't just fiddle with it until she discovered how it worked; she would only waste paper and time. She glanced over at Mal, debating whether she should admit to her lie or not. Would he be angry? Kick her out? She didn't want that. She didn't want to be sent away. But she couldn't just stand there doing nothing.
"U-um… I'm sorry." Her voice was quiet and her head hung low, face red with shame. "I thought I would know how to use the copier, but I don't. I'm sorry." She closed her eyes tightly, mentally and physically preparing herself for the worst.
Mal sorted through some more papers while Ruth went to the copier, and the silence that followed clued him into her confusion before she actually confessed it. His hands paused and he looked over at her, a tiny bit distracted by the gentle curve of hips under her dress for a second before she spoke. Mal took a glimpse into her mind and was both amused and delighted at the force of the shame and worry there. He was beginning to think ‘not treated well at home’ was a vast understatement for this one. Interesting. Useful.
“That’s all right,” he told her gently, straightening up. There was no sense of judgement or disappointment in his tone. “They all tend to be different. Here, I’ll show you.” Mal walked over and placed himself behind Ruth, a bit to one side, closer than he would have with an audience. He lightly touched the back of her arm, the one holding the papers, and gestured with the other. “Put these here, face up ... good, now you punch in the number of copies you want ...” His hand moved to rest lightly on Ruth’s back as he directed her on how to do that. “And then just hit the big green button.”
Ruth's eyes opened when Mal finally responded to her confession. A wave of relief washed over her and she released a shaky breath, allowing herself the chance to breathe again. "Thank you. Thank you so much." He wasn't upset with her. He was understanding and kind even after her lie, her failure. She lifted her head somewhat, watching him as he approached and situated himself behind her. Her gaze then moved to the copier and she dutifully followed his instructions. It was deceptively easy and she wanted to kick herself for not realizing this.
She was so focused, so determined to learn so she could complete the task asked of her, that she barely noticed the subtle movement of Mal's hand. It wasn't until he rested it on her back that she realized he had been touching her. Her cheeks turned red. Now that she was aware of his touch, she was having a hard time not focusing on it. She mentally shook her head. No, she needed to concentrate on her task, not on his warm, gentle hand. "O-okay," she managed, pressing the green button as instructed. The machine sprung to life and loudly went to work copying. There were several more pages; she would set them into the copier one by one when ready.
The copier not needing her attention for the time being, she let her mind wander back to the light pressure on her back. She couldn't help the tiniest of smiles. It was a simple, practically insignificant form of contact for anyone else, but not for her. "Thank you," she finally said, suddenly remembering her manners. "For showing me how to use the copier."
It was such a simple process that she would have had to be insufferably stupid not to get it. Mal was glad to know that she wasn’t insufferably stupid. Instead she was just innocent, sheltered. And she blushed so prettily. It was all he could do not to pet her long hair. He bet it felt like silk. What was the verse? If a woman have long hair, it is a glory to her? It was in Corinthians somewhere, he thought.
“You’re very welcome,” he told her gently, leaving his hand where it was for another moment. She was so eager to thank him for every little thing, part of him really liked it. After a couple of heartbeats, Mal gave Ruth some more space. Instead of going back to his papers or to his desk, he leaned against the wall next to the copier, loosely crossing his arms over his stomach and studying the girl. “So, Miss Collins. Tell me about yourself. How long has your family lived here?”
Her smile faded when Mal stepped away from her, taking the touch on her back with him. A look of disappointment appeared in its place. It had ended too soon, just like when he held her hand earlier. She spied him moving around her and forced the disappointment from her expression before he fully came into view.
Ruth was swapping the paper in the copier out for another when Mal posed his question. There was a brief pause. He wanted to know more about her? This made her slightly uncomfortable. She didn't like talking about herself; she never knew what to say. Her family, however, was an easier topic so she latched onto that. She knew what she should and shouldn't say, what could be disclosed freely and what needed to stay hidden. "Over a century," she answered softly, resuming her task of changing the papers out.
Mal didn’t honestly care about her family. They were the right sort of people to be at his church, seemingly devout and serious in their faith, good soldiers for Christ. But they didn’t personally interest him. Ruth did, and he found it particularly interesting that she chose to answer about her ‘family’ in the broader sense. The historical one. He watched her hands moving with the papers, so small and pale, rather elegant, but not completely flawless. She used her hands, that much was obvious. Lots of scrubbing, perhaps.
“That’s a long time,” he commented, his gaze moving back to her pretty face. “You’re a historical family in the area, then. Are you interested in history?” Mal tilted his head at her, looking curious. If she was, maybe he could tempt her back with some books of his.
"Yeah," Ruth agreed. Her family had been in Point Pleasant for a long time. She never thought of them as a historical family in the area, though. Probably because they didn't hold much sway in the town's affairs like the other families that could claim a century or more of history. The Collins family had always been on the outskirts, engaging when they needed to, but ultimately minding their own. Ruth lifted her head when he inquired about her interest in history, unintentionally catching his gaze as she did so. For the briefest of moments she allowed herself to stare into his eyes before dropping her gaze. They were nice eyes; blue like Eli's.
"I like history, yes," she finally answered. She was blushing again, embarrassed by what had just transpired. She didn't mean to stare; she hoped he wasn't offended. "Past events are intriguing and the library has a lot of books on history. Historical texts too." She couldn't help a small smile when talking about the library despite her worry. She loved it. It was her home away from home, her sanctuary. "Do you? Like history, that is?"
Mal didn’t look away when Ruth’s eyes locked onto his. She could stare at him all she wanted, and it was obvious to him that she did. Mal reached out mentally to scan over her surface thoughts, hunting for any discomfort and indications of what her actual hobbies might be, if she didn’t have any interest in history. It was easier with eye contact. And apparently she liked his, so that was good. He heard the comparison to her brother’s eyes and made a mental note of it. Close ties to siblings could help or hinder him, depending on the nature of their relationship.
Her love for the library was loud and clear. Mal happened to have an extensive collection of books -- reading was about the only entertainment he’d been allowed for so long -- so that was a good start. He allowed himself a faint smile to match Ruth’s, and he nodded. “I do, yes,” he answered. Mal nodded toward one of his bookshelves. “I have quite a few books about Biblical history here, if you’d like to take a look sometime. And a lot more upstairs. Books about all sorts of things. What’s your favorite genre?”
Her face lit up. "Really?" She asked in disbelief. Funny how the conversation moved to the bookcases that just a little while ago she wanted to browse through. Funny, but wonderful, because now she was being invited to read them and others Mal had in his possession. "If it is alright then yes. Yes, I'd love to take a look!" She was so happy, so excited that she was practically beaming, and then Mal asked about her favorite genre.
Her light dimmed. This was a question she neither expected nor wanted to be asked. Fantasy. She immediately answered in her mind, but didn't dare speak it aloud. That was a genre she shouldn't enjoy with its magic and fantastical creatures and false gods, but she couldn't help it. There was something about the worlds and the characters' journey through them that drew her in. It was a wondrous escape, but it was sinful and used to tempt true believers to evil. So she kept it hidden, to reveal it would only prove her parents right, that she was and forever will be a creature of sin.
"Non-fiction. Historical," she lied. Ruth felt bad about lying. She wanted to confide in him, but it was too risky. What if he told her parents? They would be livid. And Eli… he would be so disappointed in her.
The mood change to his seemingly innocuous question would have been palpable to anyone, but Mal was gifted enough to be able to hear why. He watched her expression do its subtle work as she thought her true answer but decided not to say it for fear of judgement. Judgement she apparently got from her family. While Mal agreed on some level that fantasy books could be dangerous to impressionable minds, he wasn’t sure he was convinced that they were evil across the board. God wanted them to use their artistic talents, after all. However, it told him something interesting about the Collins family, didn’t it?
Mal briefly considered letting her know that he didn’t believe her, but the girl was already so meek, he wasn’t sure that wouldn’t send her down some tiresome shame spiral. She was opening up some, he wanted to make sure she thought of him as safe. So Mal gave her a warm smile. “In that case, I can keep you busy reading for quite some time,” he said. “I’ve also got plenty of fiction, the classics, some fantasy. More frivolous material, but it can be good for the soul to go adventuring in your mind sometimes, you know?” It was nothing more than a casual mention, but he thought it would be enough to hook her even more.
Her smile grew, relieved that Mal had accepted her answer, and that the offer to browse his book collection was still on the table. Ruth had been worried he might have realized she was lying and rescinded the offer. She wouldn't have blamed him. He hadn't, though, and that brought back the excitement she had felt just moments before.
She listened happily as he listed off what was in his collection - she couldn't wait to sink her teeth into more historical texts - head tilting curiously when fantasy was mentioned. "You read fantasy?" She asked, eyes widening, hopeful she heard correctly. If he, a beloved and trusted man of cloth, read fantasy, then was it truly such a horrible thing for her to do the same?
“Some of it, yes,” Mal answered easily with a nod. “Have you ever heard of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe? C.S. Lewis was a wonderful Christian author. He wove allegories and Godly lessons into his books. I have the whole set, I could lend it to you.” It was true, at least, though Mal didn’t limit himself to books that would be church-approved. He wondered if loaning Ruth a book or two would upset her parents, and if it did, could he placate them into trusting him. He knew he could make them trust him, and he would if that was what it came to, but trust was so much more powerful when it came organically. Like what he was doing now, with this beautiful little lamb.
"The Chronicles of Narnia," she said with an enthusiastic nod. Those were some of the first fantasy books she had read and remembered loving them. They were what encouraged her to branch out into other novels like it. "I read them when I was younger. Really enjoyed them. I've been wanting to revisit them so if it's really okay I'd love to borrow them. Ah..." She suddenly looked uncertain, even a bit embarrassed, as a thought crossed her mind. "Or... read them here. My parents are a bit... strict when it comes to books." If they weren't able to be verified as appropriate reading they didn't want it in the house (which this one was easily verifiable but they wouldn’t bother to find out for her) and they would never believe her if she told them Mal had lent them to her. But if he assured them he did lend them to her... "But if you told them you lent them to me I know they would allow it."
Mal knew he would have to get chummy enough with Ruth’s parents. He would read them and act appropriately, but most parents of teen girls had a healthy wariness of older men spending too much time around them. Those men weren’t Mal, of course, but the Collinses didn’t know that. Not yet. God had put this girl in his path for a reason, and he wasn’t going to pass by anything God directed him toward. He lifted an eyebrow at Ruth when she mentioned that her parents were strict, like he couldn’t imagine being a stickler about books, then flashed her a smile. “I’ll talk to them a bit more, see what I can do,” he assured her, like it would be easy. “In the meantime, you’re always welcome here to read. I can always use more copies made.” He dropped her a conspiratorial wink, still half-smiling.
"Always papers to copy," she agreed shyly, the edges of her lips rising into a conspiratorial smile. Ruth would use any excuse to spend more time with Mal. She was smitten, his kindness and good natured demeanor drawing her in like a moth to the flame. She had been uncertain about interacting with him, believing he would see her as an ugly stain on the church like her parents, but that wasn't the case at all. He seemed to like her company, enough so that he felt he could be relaxed and playful with her. Seeing him that way made her feel like she didn't have to be so wary, so closed and nervous, that she could open up to him. There was only one other person in the world that she believed she could put her trust in: her brother Eli. Sweet, wonderful Eli.
Before she knew it, Ruth had finished copying all the papers he had given her. This caused a momentary frown to cross her face, slightly upset that her time with Mal seemed to be coming to an end. She bent down to reach for the stack of newly printed papers, resting the master copy on top before handing it to him. "Ten copies each, like you requested."
Mal straightened up and uncrossed his arms to take the warm stack of paper from her. He liked how small she was, how he had almost a full foot of height over her. He could vividly imagine how she would feel in his arms, against his body. He tried not to imagine it at the moment, but the thoughts were there anyway, as unruly thoughts tended to be. Mal could sense by the tone in her thoughts that she was warming up to him, starting to trust him. It was almost too easy, but he knew he couldn’t get cocky. Such things took time.
“Thank you, Miss Collins,” he said with a bright smile. Mal started toward his desk on the other side of the room, motioning with his head for Ruth to follow. “Now we get to sort and staple them all together.” He paused, then glanced back at her, a knowing little smirk on his face. “Unless you’d rather browse the bookshelf while I do boring stuff.”
Ruth immediately placed her hands behind her back after he took the papers, looking up at him with a pleased smile. She had done her job well and was rewarded with a smile that made her heart swell with delight. When he motioned for her to follow, she did so obediently. "I'd like to help you," she answered quickly. Ruth would've loved to browse the bookshelf, but not at the expense of leaving Mal to do the rest of the work he had specifically asked her to assist him with. Pink tinted her cheeks and her gaze dropped slightly. "But maybe… after? I could browse the bookshelf? If that is okay."
“Sounds like a deal to me,” Mal said good naturedly as he reached his desk. He sat behind it and motioned for Ruth to take one of the chairs in front of it. It was a menial task that he wouldn’t have minded doing himself in the slightest -- routine busywork was meditative for him sometimes -- but having an eager-to-please pretty girl around to do it for him was even better. He spread out the paper stacks and told Ruth what order he wanted them in, then pushed his electric stapler over closer to her. He took the manual one. There were other things he could’ve been doing, but he had found that doing some task together formed a bond with people. Especially young, isolated people like this one seemed to be. Mal didn’t try to chat any further, curious if Ruth would bring her own subjects up or if she would be too meek to talk to him.
Ruth took a seat and watched him spread out the papers, nodding her understanding before getting to work. The room went quiet. The conversation had ended which she didn't mind. They were both concentrating on the task at hand and idle chatter wasn't necessary. Being able to sit comfortably in his presence was enough for her. There weren’t many she could do that with.
A soft humming broke through the silence, the tune from one of the hymns that had been sung during the service. It was her, but she paid it no mind, seemingly unaware she was even doing it. She had a tendency to hum while doing menial tasks, it helped her focus and made the work a bit more fun. Her parents found it annoying, but Eli and sometimes even her other siblings enjoyed it. It helped them pass the time.
It was kind of impossible for Mal not to be aware of where it was coming from, and the movements of his hands slowed down only briefly when Ruth started to hum. He recognized the tune after a couple of bars, which was only a credit to her pitch. Smiling faintly, Mal let her go on with it for a while before he looked up at her, straightening out a stack he’d made and setting it further aside on the desk. “Do you sing?” he asked her quietly, sounding genuinely interested. The church hadn’t been around long enough to really have formed a choir yet, but Mal wanted to get one going if he could.
"Hm?" Ruth lifted her head, his voice shaking her out of her daze. She appeared slightly confused as her mind worked to register what he had said. Finally, after a few moments, she realized and her face turned bright red from embarrassment. She had been humming, hadn't she? She didn't even notice, but Mal had. She resisted the urge to bring her hands to her cheeks to cool them down - they were burning so intensely - using them instead to continue collecting the pages in front of her. If she didn't bring attention to her face then maybe he wouldn't notice. Ruth knew full well he would notice no matter what she did, but it was a nice thought.
"I like to, yes," she replied softly, eyes lowered. "Sorry. I didn't realize I was humming."
Oh that blush. Mal enjoyed it immensely already, it put thoughts in his head of how the rest of her body might flush with various emotions and ... stimulations, but he didn’t mentally dwell there. Patience, patience, patience, all things in good time. He was going to have to break her of the habit of apologizing for everything she did, that would eventually get tiresome, but it gave him an interesting insight into her psyche. He studied her face and then the way her hands kept working, sure the small tremor there wasn’t his imagination.
“You don’t have to be sorry,” Mal told her gently. “It was lovely. Will you sing something for me?” He was aware that asking would put her on the spot, and she would probably fumble over the request, but he wanted to see if she would still try for him, so soon.
Ruth's head sprung up, eyes as wide as saucers. "Sing?" She squeaked. He wanted her to sing for him. He wanted her to sing for him. What was she going to do? The obvious answer would be to do as he requested, but she would mess up. There was no denying that. She was too timid, too nervous not to, and she didn't want him disappointed. He said her humming was lovely… she wanted him to think her singing was too. There was a good chance he might even if she fumbled, but she'd never know unless she tried.
"O-okay," she replied softly. She cleared her throat, trying to get the lump out of it before opening her mouth to sing. Her voice was small and trembling, but clear and light. Ruth chose a carol - In The Bleak Midwinter - partly because the season had just passed and it was fresh in her mind. Mostly, however, it was because her brother liked carols and she liked to sing them for him. Closing her eyes, she imagined standing at the piano with Eli pressing on the keys, singing the melody while he played the accompaniment. Her voice evened out as she focused on this image. She just needed to sing and not dwell on who was listening. No judgment, just music.
Her eyes fluttered open when she stopped, ending the carol after the second verse. Despite her better judgment she looked at Mal, wanting (and yet not wanting) to see his reaction. Please like it.
For a second Mal thought she might try to wiggle out of it, tell him no. Or try to, anyway. Mal could be very convincing when he needed to. But Ruth did as she was asked, like the good girl he was sure she was. Her voice was clear and sweet, even with the wobble in the beginning, and he listened attentively. While he was listening, Mal delved into her mind to poke around a bit and see what she was thinking about on the surface. It was much easier to do when someone was distracted, and Mal clearly saw Ruth’s brother Eli playing a piano, and felt some of her intent love for him. He was her favorite sibling, then. Interesting. He could also sense her desperation for Mal’s approval, and that pleased him quite a bit.
He was smiling faintly when she opened her eyes again, and he pulled his probing mind back a bit, but kept the connection open to himself. Mal wanted to know her. “Thank you, Ruth,” he murmured, sounding absolutely genuine about it, like she’d just done him a big favor. “That was beautiful. Were you in the choir in your old church? I’d love to get one off the ground here.”
Beautiful. That wasn't a word that was often used to describe her or anything she did. Her heart danced with joy. He called her beautiful. Well, not her specifically, her voice but that was part of her so in a way he had? Right? Or maybe not. She tried not to dwell on it, knowing it would only make her flustered.
"They didn't really have a choir," she confessed. Which was true. They had a small organ to accompany the hymns sung by the congregation but that was about it where music was concerned. Ruth smiled, suddenly a bit excited. "I think a choir here would be wonderful! There are so many good singers in the congregation. I know you would have no trouble starting one."
Her childish excitement was kind of adorable in that way that would eventually get annoying if Mal was exposed to it too much, he knew. It was useful at the moment though -- the more he knew how to make Ruth happy, the easier it would be to control her. So far it seemed that simple attention and praise was enough to do the trick. “You think so?” he said, as if her opinion mattered in the slightest. Mal smiled wider at her. “I know there are a couple of people who came with me from New York who sing, maybe you can help them recruit some more.” He would need to tap someone else as an actual choir director -- Mal couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. His God-given talents lay elsewhere.
"I do." Ruth nodded, her smile widening along with his. And then he mentioned recruiting and her happy little balloon of excitement deflated. Her eyes lowered and smile faded. "Help recruit?" She asked, uncertain. The idea of talking to the other parishioners, of asking something of them, made her nervous and worried. She didn't have much presence and most people tended to ignore her or, in less pleasant circumstances, lash out at her. How much help could she be when no one wanted to listen to her? But Mal was asking her and she wanted to be of help to him so she would try. "I... don’t know many in the congregation...” She lifted her head and managed a small smile despite her lingering uneasiness. “But I will do my best to help in any way I can."
She was so up and down -- how exhausting it must be, being a teenage girl, he thought. Mal liked that the prospect of talking to people obviously scared her, but she was saying she would help anyway. That was the kind of loyalty he needed. Unquestioning, if not unflinching. That could come later, once her confidence had grown, as it surely would. “I have no doubt you will,” he answered warmly. “Perhaps you can pass out some flyers for me.” It was a subtle suggestion that it might not be as impossible a task as she thought. Mal didn’t want her to dwell and dread having to interact with people -- doing so with a piece of paper in hand was always easier somehow. “I do hope you’re right though, I would love to add more music to the services. ‘O sing unto the Lord a new song: sing unto the Lord, all the earth. Sing unto the Lord, bless his name.’”
Ruth was noticeably relieved. Flyers she could do. You didn't need to talk much when you could simply hand someone a piece of paper with all the information. They might still ignore her but at least she wouldn't have to agonize over what to say so that she didn't upset anyone. All she needed to do was mention Mal asked her to give them out and, maybe, saying he instructed her to do so would prevent anyone from being too harsh with her. "I hope so too," she replied, smile growing a little when Mal quoted Psalm 96. She loved the psalms; it was one of her favorite books in the bible. "’I will sing to the LORD as long as I live; I will sing praise to my God while I have my being’."
Mal smiled brilliantly at her -- she knew her Bible. A lovely, Godly girl, just ripe for the plucking. It was no accident that she’d been brought to his church. She belonged under his wing. “’Let my meditation be pleasing to Him.’ Very good, Ruth,” he told her with a soft chuckle. “Do you do much Bible study at home?” Mal was fairly certain that the Collins children were homeschooled, and judging from what he’d heard of their parents, it was a religious education. It was unmistakable that they were strict, he could hear that as easily as he heard anything else in their minds. But he had a feeling her answer would give him even more insight into what her status was in the household hierarchy.
That smile. It was different from the others - bigger, brighter, almost… proud? Ruth wasn't sure. All she knew is that she wanted to be the reason for him to smile like that again. And the praise that followed? That brought color back to her cheeks and a small, pleased smile to her face. She lowered her head somewhat, suddenly a bit shy.
"We do," she answered, pushing some of her hair back behind her ear before she returned to collecting the papers. It was a good excuse not to look at him until after her cheeks cooled down. "We read and discuss daily as a family. And I do further study when I'm unable to participate in other church activities with them."
Unable. That was good. It made it seem like she had the choice; that she simply couldn't make it as opposed to not being allowed. Ruth had no desire to paint her parents in a negative light, mostly for fear of retaliation. If they found out her words made anyone, especially Mal, think ill of them, she would be severely punished.
"Eli does a lot of individual study as well. Far more than I," she added, wishing to move the attention away from her so she could avoid revealing what she shouldn't. Her eyes glanced at the text on the newly stapled stack of papers in her hand. "If you needed it, perhaps he could help with this?" She turned the paper around to make it clear what she was referring to. "He is a good teacher."
Mal sensed a bit of deception with her wording somewhere in the first part of what she said, but he let it pass without digging too deep. He would know all there was to know about her soon enough, and her family. Everything in the dark eventually rose to the light. That was just the way of things. He was more interested in how she brought her brother Eli back up in the conversation. Mal was rapidly coming to understand that he was her anchor in the family. Good to know.
“Is he?” Mal mused, glancing from Ruth’s face to the papers she was holding up and back. “Perhaps I’ll have a talk with him, see if he would be interested. How old is he again?” He arched a brow at Ruth, curious as to what their age gap was now. Mal gave a quick smile then and added, “I bet he’s not as good of a singer as you are.”
"He is. He's helped with some of my lessons." Ruth smiled, speaking fondly. But when didn't she speak fondly of her brother? "He would definitely want to help." It wasn't her place to speak on behalf of her brother but she knew he would be interested. He was so dedicated to the church; he was sure to accept Mal's offer. "He just turned 18 this past December," she informed. The comment about her singing made her look away briefly with a shy smile. "He doesn't sing, but he's a talented pianist. One of the best." Because, to her, Eli was the best at everything he did.
Her love for Eli was obvious to Mal, even without his gift in the mix, and he knew that might spell trouble for him down the road. He would have to get close to Eli too, feel the boy out, see where his loyalties could really lie. There was so much potential for both of them, if they could do the right thing and join him completely. Mal found himself a little excited about the prospect, really. The youth were the future, and if he got in good with them early on, everything else would come easier. “Well our little church lacks a pianist as well, so it seems I have a lot to talk to your brother about,” he said, smiling along with her. “Perhaps next week, after service, you can convince him to come chat with me?”
Keeping her involved would also be important.
"Of course! I'd be happy to." Ruth knew it wouldn't take much convincing to get Eli to meet with Mal. Much like her, her brother enjoyed and appreciated hearing him preach the Word; there was no doubt in her mind that Eli would be willing to help Mal with anything he needed. Setting the packet of papers onto the waiting pile, she noticed that they appeared to be done stapling. Amazing how conversation made time go so quickly. For better or for worse. "It looks like we're finished," she pointed out, knowing it was obvious but stating it anyway. If the offer from before was still open that meant she would be able to browse his bookshelf now. She would wait, however, until she got the go ahead. "Is there anything else you need done?"
Mal couldn’t think of anything off the top of his head to direct Ruth to do. Nothing that was appropriate at the moment, at least. He could sense her eagerness to get her hands on his books, and it brought another smile to his face. “I don’t believe so,” he answered, folding his arms on the stack of papers in front of him casually. Mal gave Ruth a knowing and amused sort of look. “I think we had a deal though, didn’t we? So if you’d like to stick around ... there are a lot of pages that haven’t been browsed in a while.” He nodded toward the bookshelf in invitation.
Ruth smiled brightly. It took every ounce of willpower not to just jump up and run over to the bookshelf. She needed to be calm and courteous; she couldn't go running around like an overexcited child. Yes, she was overjoyed to finally be able to look over the books but that was no reason to be rude. Standing, she bowed her head slightly to Mal. "Thank you. If you think of anything else I can help with please let me know." She stepped away from the chair and slowly made her way to the bookshelf, eyes scanning over the book spines of the shelf closest to her eye level. They then moved up to the shelves above and she perked up, spying an interesting book resting on the highest shelf. She reached up and attempted to grab at it, but even the extra height from standing on her tippy-toes wasn't quite enough for her to reach. Why did they have to make shelves so high?
That tiny bow was something else, and Mal got a small tingle in his gut when Ruth did it. He wondered if that had been trained into her to do at home, or if it was just something special for him. He wanted it to be something special for him, but Mal wasn’t so naive. He watched Ruth make her way over to the bookshelf, his gaze drifting over the gentle curves that peeked out through her boxy dress when she moved a certain way. He didn’t stare for long though, just in case she turned around. Mal started to turn back to some paperwork on his desk, but the little grunt of effort Ruth made caught his attention again. She needed a book up higher than her arm could reach, and that was just beyond adorable, wasn’t it?
Mal stood up and crossed the room without a word. He moved in close behind Ruth again, much like he’d done at the copier, and easily pulled the book she wanted off the shelf. “History of the Holy Land,” he murmured, reading the title. He didn’t move away from her right away, like he probably ought to. Mal wanted to enfold her in his arms, feel how small she was against him, and he had to fight the temptation with another reminder about patience. He offered Ruth the book instead, holding it down in front of her, his arm almost around her.
Ruth didn't hear Mal approaching, too busy struggling to get that extra bit of height she wasn't capable of. The thought of asking him for help briefly crossed her mind, and she was about to do just that, but he was already standing behind her and plucking the book from the shelf. Her heels lightly hit the floor and her outreached arm retreated to her chest as she went still. Her face was red and her heart pounded. He was so close; she could feel the faint warmth of his body. What would it be like to feel the full warmth against her? To have his arm not just holding the book in front of her but around her? She leaned back, unconsciously bridging the gap between them.
"Thank you," she murmured, taking the book and holding it close to her chest. Her eyes closed and she stood there, basking in the closeness and not wanting it to end, but knowing it would. He had come over to do one thing and that was not to be close to her. No one but Eli wanted that. She loved to be held by Eli but sometimes... sometimes she wished someone else would want to hold her as well.
It was tantalizing, being so close to her. Mal felt like he towered over Ruth, and he liked that feeling, he always had. And her body heat ... he barely had time to think about how much he wanted to touch her before Ruth was doing that for him. Mal’s heart immediately started to thump harder, and he felt warmth rush toward his crotch. Almost out of instinct, he opened his mind to Ruth’s to listen in on her thoughts. The contact wasn’t an accident, that much was clear, and she was enjoying it. A lot. Which made it nearly impossible not to put his arm around her and pull her in closer. Mal managed though, just barely. He closed his eyes and briefly prayed for strength. “You’re welcome,” he murmured back.
There were other interesting thoughts floating through Ruth’s mind, centered around her brother. Her brother holding her. It all seemed so un-sibling-like to Mal, but Ruth’s thoughts around it didn’t seem to be ashamed or guilty, which just made it all more interesting. It was a bit difficult to think clearly when she was leaning on him, though. Mal allowed himself to put his hand on the curve of Ruth’s shoulder. This was all taking much too long for propriety, but she didn’t seem to want to pull away from him, so Mal wasn’t going to make her. The more voluntary it was, the better. He gave her a gentle squeeze, but otherwise didn’t move.
Ruth glanced at his hand resting on her shoulder. He was touching her. Willingly touching her. It wasn't an embrace like she was secretly wishing, but it was contact and it made her heart flutter. In a rare instance of bravery, her hand crept slowly up to his and hesitantly touched the top of his fingers with the tips of her own. They lingered there for just a brief moment before retreating back to hold the book. She shouldn't touch him. His hand on her shoulder wasn't an invitation no matter how much she wished it was.
She slowly turned around, no longer against Mal's body but still dangerously close. Her gaze moved to his face, lower lip trembling slightly and eyes betraying her desire for further contact, before quickly lowering her head. She was quiet, uncertain what she should do. She desperately wanted to move closer to indicate in some way she wanted to be held, but she didn't dare. What if he rejected her? She would be devastated. If only there was some way she could know, some sort of sign that it would be okay to seek his embrace, but she doubted such a thing would happen. Yet she still foolishly hoped.
That tiny touch felt electric to him, and he realized how long it had been since he’d touched someone new. Not the hand-shaking bullshit social dance he had to do all the time, but a real touch. It was so hesitant and intimate, and the way she pulled back from it made Mal’s groin tingle sweetly. He liked them innocent, shy, uncertain of themselves. They were so easy to build up from there. He hadn’t had a new girl since Sam, and Mal was already sure he wanted this one to be the one.
He expected her to pull further away when she turned, but Ruth didn’t. She looked up at him instead. If he hadn’t been who he was, Mal might have misinterpreted the look in her eyes. But he was listening to her intently, and even when her gaze dropped, he knew what she wanted. Mal very much wanted to give it to her too, and more. He was just having trouble thinking of how to do it in a way that protected him at the same time. He didn’t want to set off any red flags in her, or do something she might talk about later. Ruth could obviously keep a secret about her older brother, but would she do the same for him? The temptation was too great to fully resist, but Mal could have a little taste, right? If it stayed small.
Still gazing down at her, Mal opened his arms a bit wider. “You look like you could use a hug,” he murmured, his voice a bit too low to be casually observing. But it was close enough.
Out of the corner of her eye, Ruth noticed his arms opening a bit wider, but was unable to determine why until he voiced his observation. She quickly lifted her head to see Mal gazing down at her, her eyes wide in disbelief. The open arms and the quiet statement… that was an invitation, wasn't it? It was the sign she had been hoping for. She gave a small nod before lowering her head once more and, after a moment of hesitation, stepped forward and pressed her body against his. The contact made her whole body tingle. Her eyes closed and she immediately nuzzled her face into him. "I do. Always," she finally answered, tiny voice muffled by his clothing. She always wanted a hug. She always needed a hug.
The book was still between them, but Mal couldn’t really complain about that. He was hyper-aware of every part of her that was touching him as he gently wrapped his arms around her. Given their height difference and the way she had her face pressed into his chest, Mal thought the hard thump of his heart might betray him, but he couldn’t care about it just yet. She was too short for him to rest his cheek against her hair, unfortunately. Mal closed his eyes and bent his head instead, just to get close enough to breathe in the sweet scent of her. He let himself hold her tighter at her words, his thumb rubbing slowly against the back of her shoulder. “Then you should always have one available,” he murmured, almost absently. It was an intensely erotic feeling, and Mal let a bit of that seep into the telepathic connection he had with her, so Ruth would get a taste of it too.
"I would like that," she murmured in response. The embrace was meant to be innocent, a chance at feeling the chaste physical affection she so desperately craved. Somehow, though, it didn't stay that way. A warmth moved through her body, radiating from her loins. She recognized that feeling. She felt it when Eli's hands would move over her body and grow in intensity when his fingers glided along her bare skin and lips touched hers. It was a wonderful, confusing feeling, but always welcome. Without thinking, one of her hands glided down his chest to his stomach, then along his waist, gently massaging above his hip. She was vaguely aware of what her hand was doing and, deep down, knew she shouldn’t be so bold to touch him in such a way, but she didn’t make any move to stop herself. She wasn’t really in the state to think properly; her concentration solely on the rush of heat coursing through her and the bliss of being in his arms.
The way Ruth touched him was almost overwhelming. Mal knew some of it had to do with his telepathic influence, but he didn’t think all of it was. Arousal wasn’t a feeling that was completely foreign to this girl, he could tell that much. She was a teenage girl, so that made sense, but Mal got the impression someone had touched her before. As his arms tightened around Ruth, his mind dug a little deeper, and he saw who. Big brother Eli, how interesting. Mal felt a small tingle of jealousy that someone had gotten there first, and he pulled his mind out of Ruth’s to avoid leaking any of it into her, taking the echoes of his own arousal with it. Her hand felt incredibly good, but it was definitely too familiar for their first encounter. He let his own hand slide down Ruth’s arm and gently took her wrist as he started to pull back some. Mal smiled faintly down at her, just so she knew for sure he wasn’t displeased or upset or anything. “You’ll always have one here,” he murmured. He gave her hand a squeeze and then let her go and took a step back. “Let’s let you dive into that book, hm?”
And just like that, the fire consuming her body seemed to lessen and the smoke clouding her mind dissipated. Her eyes fluttered open and moved to the hand resting on Mal's hip just in time to see him wrapping his hand gently around her wrist. She let out a small gasp and her eyes grew large; realization suddenly hit her. She had been rubbing Mal's hip like she would Eli's when they would touch one another. Why hadn't she noticed that? She quickly looked up at Mal with fear in her heart, certain she would be met with a look of disgust. What she found, however, was a faint smile and eyes that held no judgment. Her heart skipped a beat. He was wonderful. "Thank you." Her voice was quiet and trembling, but she was smiling. It was small and faint, but it was definitely a smile. When he stepped back, Ruth's hand returned to the book she held against her chest. She glanced down at the book, then up at Mal shyly. "Can I... sit at the desk with you while I read it? If that is okay.” She shouldn’t be asking such a thing after what she had done and especially not while the feeling that encouraged such behavior still lingered within her. She knew this, but that understanding and accepting expression he had given her instilled just enough courage to ask.
She was skittish, but in a different way than he was used to feeling. She wasn’t cautious out of self-preservation, it was more like a burning desire to please him. Mal had a feeling her home training had something to do with that. It usually did. Enough gentle handling ought to have her eating out of the palm of his hand. He just had to make sure she could stay discrete. And that her brother wouldn’t end up being a problem. “Of course,” he answered her tentative question with more warmth. “Keep me company while I do boring paperwork, distract me with interesting facts you find.” With a faint chuckle, Mal turned to head back to the desk and settle in, motioning for Ruth to pull one of the chairs in front of it closer and sit. Some relaxing quiet time together, then he would get Ruth home in one piece and instill some trust in her parents. It was more than a good start. Mal was resting more and more assured that God had led him to Point Pleasant for many reasons.