The more Rachel contemplated her situation, the more optimistic she felt. Each day that passed with no announcement from the prophet about her placing, Rachel felt more certain of her own celestial testimony to marry Luke. God had a plan, and it was on His timetable. He wouldn’t allow Prophet Silver to announce her engagement because the one man God had chosen for her still hadn’t received the testimony.
During Sara’s illness, Rachel had spent many lunch hours with Luke, discussing their views on the church and religion in general. He couldn’t answer her when she told him that faith involved suspending disbelief and maybe even ignoring logic. His heart seemed to be opening to God’s plan. And he told her that he had something very important to tell her tonight. Her mind raced with the possibilities.
Sara, on the other hand, was another matter. She had become angry and cynical. Last night, she had told Rachel that she didn’t believe in any part of her religion anymore, and to make matters even worse, she had a black boyfriend! Rachel’s initial shock had threatened to turn into profound despair. She prayed all night for God to reveal what it was that she was supposed to do to save her sister’s soul. The thought of Sara spending eternity burning in hell was unbearable. Rachel fought the undertow of depression that threatened to suffocate her with its bleakness.
Then she had what could only be considered an epiphany. Self-sacrifice: that was the key! If Rachel could in some small way experience suffering, then she could offer her own pain or discomfort up for Sara’s salvation. Surely God would hear her prayers and touch Sara’s heart and mind with the truth.
A DEEP threatening silence lingered in the night. Rachel felt the danger before she met its embrace: a shift in the air and a foreboding that she chose to shake off. Luke was late. Winter’s icy fingers ran down her spine, sending her teeth clattering together. The opaque sky was thick with low-hanging clouds that choked off any brightness.
Danger sensations skipped on the border of her consciousness, when she felt a powerful arm lock around her waist. A hand slapped her mouth shut before she could open it to scream. He lifted her off her feet, the tips of her boots dragging in the snow, but not slowing him down.
The panic came in torrents. Her breathing short and spasmodic. He dragged her toward the woods, the inky black sky his coconspirator. He was going to hurt her, maybe kill her. Why? What have I done? God, please help me, please. Luke! Luke, where are you!
She tried to slow down her breathing and think. Her knotted thoughts started to untangle themselves. His breath was hot on her neck. She ignored it. Fight him.
She started kicking. Her heels found his shins. He slowed down.
“Do that again, and you die.”
She’d heard that voice before, but she couldn’t remember where. With every bit of strength she possessed she flung her hands backward, hoping they’d find her target. Her hands slapped both sides of his face. Her nails pierced flesh. She clawed his face. He yelped. His forearm unlocked from her waist. Her feet hit solid ground.
She swung her body around and bolted back toward the house. Her lungs burned with every surge forward. Then she heard him behind her, vaulting after her like a racehorse clearing hurdles.
The heat from his breath was back on her neck: hot, urgent and vile. Looping his forearm around her waist, he threw her to the ground. Her back felt like it had shattered into pieces. He straddled her torso. His knees pinned her arms to the ground. A punch, thrown with the impact of a cement block, slammed her cheek. Pain knifed through her head.
He turned his black gaze on her. Brother Farley’s features were greased in sweat. He slapped his hand over her mouth again. The devil must have possessed this man of God.
“Let’s get something straight. You scream, and I’ll slit your throat right now. If you come quietly, I’ll let you live.” He moved his face within inches of hers. “It’s your choice.”
Cold fear gripped her throat. He yanked her to her feet. Spasms rocked her back. Her knees buckled. He caught her under the arms, picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder.
He carried her effortlessly. In a few alarmingly short minutes, they were absorbed into the blanket of dark trees. Her body screamed in pain with each step he took. They were going deep into the woods. How could Luke hear her? How could he find her? She couldn’t run anymore. Spasms, like shards of glass, galloped up and down her spine.
“My friend is coming to meet me tonight.” The words were panic ridden, but at least they were out of her mouth. Maybe talking about Luke would scare him off.
“I know all about your friend.”
How could he?
“He’ll be looking for me.”
“He’s not coming for you tonight.”
He had been watching her! Even in the woods months ago . . . on the walk home from Ruth’s house . . . then tonight. He was everywhere. Her heart thundered so hard, she no longer trusted it to keep up its frantic pace. It could stop, exhausted, at any moment. She tried to orient herself. But the creek was silent from the frigid artic air, and in the moonless night, it was impossible.
“Yes, he will.” She wondered if she said that more for her benefit than his. At the very least, it might slow him down, even if it was just for a few precious seconds.
“No. But maybe you do.” She could not believe what she had just said.
“Shut up!” He seemed agitated, a little less in control.
“You won’t get away with this.”
They stopped at the slanted rock. He flipped her off his shoulder like a rag doll. She stood on wobbly knees.
“Watch me.” He pulled his fist back and plowed it into her left cheek. Her short scream spiraled upward. She crumpled to the ground.
Her eyelids, heavy from the effort to stay alive, threatened to close. Her thoughts treaded upward, desperate to reach the surface of clarity.
“You little slut,” he hissed. “I told you not to scream.”
Fresh despair consumed her. He will kill her now. Luke will come for her, but it will be too late.
His lips peeled away from his teeth. Frothy saliva bubbled up in the sides of his mouth. Spit sprayed in her face. “I could have given you everything.” He climbed on top of her. “You thought you were too good for me, didn’t you?”
“Please,” she croaked, “no.”
“Shut up. It’s too late now.”
She felt her panties and stockings being yanked down, and with a quick jerk of his knee, he spread her thighs apart. His solid bulk had crushed her body against the cold slab of rock. Her limbs were fixed as if they were encased in cement.
I am so sorry, Luke and Sara. I wasn’t strong enough.