Avery woke several times during the night, her heart racing.
She dreamed that they’d returned to the blessing pool for a second ceremony. She was wearing a white dress, with a crown of blossoms in her hair. When she waded into the dark water, her skirts turned red with blood. Gasping, she looked up at her companion, but it wasn’t Nick who held her hand. It was Jonah.
She finally drifted off again in the wee hours of the morning. At dawn, she opened her eyes to a room filled with light. She was tired, but warm. Nick’s wool blanket covered her from neck to toes. He must have gotten up already. A twinge of guilt struck her for enjoying the bed and the blanket. She squashed it, climbing out of bed. He’d brought her into this nightmare against her will. He wasn’t concerned about her comfort and safety. Why should she be concerned about his?
The cabin was empty. As she tidied the bed, she heard Nick’s voice outside, saying goodbye to someone. He came through the door a moment later with a loaded basket. “You’re up,” he said, eyes raking over her.
She touched her hair, which felt like a bird’s nest. “How did you sleep?”
“Fine. You?”
“I got a few hours.”
He extended the basket toward her. “Margot brought this stuff for you.”
She accepted it from his outstretched arms and placed it on the bed. The basket held a treasure trove of items. A hairbrush, toiletries, two basic skirts, a shawl and five blouses of various colors. There was even a pair of soft leather shoes that appeared to be her size. She tried the shoes on first. They fit.
“There’s a bell for breakfast,” Nick said. He was watching from the doorway.
“Did it ring already?”
“No. I think it will ring soon. I can’t tell what damned time it is.”
She didn’t remind him not to blaspheme. He must have searched the cabin thoroughly and deemed it safe. She gathered the toiletries she needed and visited the bathrooms. There were three young women inside, chatting excitedly. They went silent as soon as she entered.
“Good morning,” Avery said.
“God’s grace,” they replied in unison, and hurried out.
Avery used the facilities before brushing her hair and teeth. There was a jar of mint powder toothpaste. She remembered it from her childhood. After she was finished, she returned to the cabin and handed the jar to Nick, along with a second toothbrush. He used it at the kitchen sink, unselfconscious. She wondered if he’d really been able to sleep last night. It was difficult to tell when he was lying. His face didn’t reveal his thoughts or emotions often. He wasn’t made of ice, however. Last night he’d been affected by the violin performance. Apparently it had reminded him of his mother. His eyes softened when he spoke of her. He’d lost his mother twenty-five years ago, but he still got sentimental about her.
She tried not to find that appealing, and failed.
He glanced over his shoulder at her before spitting in the sink. She realized she was staring at him while he performed an intimate, if ordinary, task. These moments were usually reserved for real married couples.
She grabbed the basket and retreated to the bedroom, her heart pounding. She told herself it was anxiety about the coming day. She shouldn’t be feeling stirrings of sympathy for Nick, or stirrings of anything else. She had to focus on the task at hand. In a few minutes, they would join the others for breakfast, followed by holy service that would complete their initiation. There was a chance she would be recognized as a former daughter of The Haven. She might see Father Jeff. She might meet her sister.
Avery took a deep breath, overwhelmed. Then she selected the first blouse in the basket and put it on with shaking hands. The blouse was white with tiny blue flowers embroidered down the front. It fit comfortably loose, like a peasant blouse. Although the garment was modest, her neck and collarbone were exposed. She grabbed a gray knit shawl to wrap around her shoulders. Then she tied her hair back with a blue ribbon she’d found in the basket. Her hair was too short to braid, so the stubby ponytail would have to do. Trying to stay calm, she smoothed her skirt and returned to Nick. His gaze skimmed her outfit. He didn’t say she looked nice again, but his eyes glinted with approval. She wondered if he was the kind of man who secretly preferred demure, docile women.
The next time I get on my knees, it will be for you.
Her cheeks flushed at the memory of his sexually charged comment. He wasn’t the conservative, missionary-only type, judging by those words, and by their brief encounter on her couch. If his kisses were any indication, he enjoyed an enthusiastic partner.
The bell rang in the tower, bringing a fresh wave of panic. She went to the sink for a drink of water before they left. She didn’t want to go, but she couldn’t stay here, obsessing over what might happen next. It was better to keep moving forward, step by step.
They walked outside together. The sunlight felt too bright, the air too thin. There were other families heading toward the community’s center. Avery pressed her palm to her stomach in an attempt to calm the butterflies.
“You’ve got this,” he said, taking her hand.
She didn’t believe him, but she nodded dutifully. “I’ve got this.”
“You’re doing great.”
“I’m doing great.”
“When in doubt, smile.”
She smiled. It felt weird, like her mouth was warring with the rest of her face. He paused before they started down the path. They were alone at the edge of the commune. In the distance, two women in dresses walked behind a single man and five children of various heights. A girl chased after a little boy in a suit and bow tie. No one was paying attention to Nick or Avery—yet. They would be stared at in the breakfast hall.
“Watch what I do,” he said. He took a meditative breath first. His expression went blank. Then he flashed a sincere-looking smile that began with his eyes. She realized that he’d used this technique to disarm her during their first meeting. His warm and charming manner was one of his many facades.
Setting that issue aside, she tried to mimic his actions in the same order. Deep breath, blank face, bright eyes, smile.
“You’re a natural,” he said, his gaze sharp.
There was no false positivity in his words, no pep talk. Just stated fact. He didn’t seem surprised by her adeptness, either. The art of deception came easily to him. He assumed it would come easily to her, too. Maybe he knew it would, the way he seemed to know what she was thinking at any given moment. They shared similar trajectories in life. Childhood trauma, loss, being uprooted. Career ambitions. Relationship avoidance. She could identify the triggers. He could pull them.
He believed in her ability to do this job. His confidence boosted hers, and his unflappable attitude helped. She wanted to please him. He had an effective way of bending her to his will, but she wouldn’t forget why she’d agreed to do this. She had her own agenda. At some point, it might diverge from his.
They continued down the path together. In full daylight, the place looked more quaint than sinister. Some of the cabins showed their age. Paint was peeling off the front of the old schoolhouse, which sat beside two new buildings. It was a clear, bright morning, without the misty overcast conditions that plagued Portland. She imagined the temperature would climb this afternoon. Right now, it was cool enough to make her shiver in the thin knit shawl.
Nick put his arm around her to chase away the chill. She leaned into him, the way a wife would, and sniffed his neck. She told herself it was for the role, but it wasn’t. He smelled like soap and mint, mixed with earthy male. She’d read somewhere that scent was a major factor in physical attraction. If that was true, they were well matched, because she wanted to press her nose to his throat and inhale. Instead of breathing deep, she pulled away, frowning. She was a mature psychologist, not a giddy teenager. Her current fixation on Nick was a mental distraction. She couldn’t process the fear and stress she was experiencing, so her mind had shifted to more pleasurable pursuits.
It was a defense mechanism. It was neuroscience.
“You don’t have to sleep on the floor,” she murmured.
He arched a brow. “No?”
“We can pull the mattress off the bed. I’ll take the mattress. You take the bedsprings.”
“I’m fine on the floor.”
She opened her mouth to argue, then closed it. Haven wives didn’t argue, and there was no reason to change their sleeping arrangements. She didn’t know why she’d brought it up. She was in a strange headspace, torn between desire and dread.
They passed the church and entered the cafeteria together. There was a long line for breakfast. Members piled their plates high with pancakes, eggs and bacon. Children with sticky hands and faces ate happily at every table. It looked like any breakfast social, except for the old-fashioned clothing. And the polygamy.
Nick and Avery joined the others in line. After they got their plates, they found an open table and sat down. She didn’t see Father Jeff or Brother Jonah in the crowd. She didn’t see her stepfather, Gary, who would be in his seventies if he was still alive. Avery ate sparingly while Nick tackled his plate with methodical precision. She’d have to learn his trick for eating on a nervous stomach. Maybe he didn’t get nervous. Similar trajectories or not, they hadn’t developed similar personalities. She couldn’t suppress her feelings.
When in doubt, smile.
She smiled.
He nodded his approval, taking a sip of coffee. “This is good.”
“Farm to table,” she murmured.
“No doubt.”
She drank her orange juice, which tasted fresh-squeezed. They had fruit trees on the property, as well as several barnyards full of well-tended animals. These people treated their hogs better than their wives.
“I wonder if they buy flour or grow wheat. I can’t imagine growing wheat here. It’s so labor intensive, and the soil’s rocky.”
“Hmm.”
“With the right crops, the meals will be even better.”
Nick Dean proceeded to bore her with a litany of agriculture details. She was grateful to him for monopolizing the conversation. It kept the pressure off her and discouraged the strangers nearby from asking them questions. Before she knew it, she’d finished her eggs. He noted her empty plate with a wink. He was a sneaky operator.
After breakfast, they moved from the dining hall to the church. It was a full house. Nick and Avery took the same seats they’d inhabited the night before, next to Brother Rupert and Sister Margot.
“That blouse is lovely on you,” Margot gushed to Avery. She cupped her hands together and placed them over her heart. “How old are you, dearie?”
“Thirty-one.”
“My Beverly would have been thirty this year. She wore that blouse to her firstborn’s blessing ceremony. Thank you for reminding me of her. I think she’s looking down on us from heaven right now.”
Avery was glad she’d practiced smiling with Nick. The expression felt more natural every time she tried it, and she’d experimented with several variations. The polite smile, the gentle smile, the pious smile.
Margot blinked tears from her eyes as Jonah took the stage. He began with a community prayer. They all bowed their heads as he read from his father’s book, personalizing here and there with references to specific cult members. He spoke of their trials and triumphs with carefully chosen words. Avery didn’t recall much about Father Jeff’s sermons, but she knew they hadn’t been temperate. Father Jeff had ginned up his followers with fire and brimstone, mixed with mystical ideas. Jonah had more substance, less flash.
The audience started fidgeting. Men shifted in their seats. Women scolded children in whispered hisses. A young mother with a crying baby exited through the back door. Several heads turned in interest.
Jonah didn’t command the same respect or attention as Father Jeff. He wasn’t crazy enough, or arrogant enough, to consider himself a messiah. He wrapped up his prayer and moved on to a hotter topic: Nick and Ellen Dean.
“If you joined us for the music recital, you already know that I invited two new members into our flock. Brother Nick and Sister Ellen will complete the initiation during today’s service. Please welcome them as warmly as you did last night.”
The audience clapped politely while Nick rose to his feet, bringing Avery with him. They walked down the aisle like a newly married couple, hand in hand. Avery tried one of her smiles, but her face felt frozen. They were greeted on stage by Brother Sage and Sister Imogen, Jonah’s creepy familiars. Nick and Avery stood next to Jonah, facing the crowd.
“Don’t start without me,” a man called out from the back of the church.
Avery’s stomach dropped, because she knew that voice.
It was Father Jeff.
* * *
He was older than she remembered, but still tall and imposing. His white hair and beard flowed like an angel’s wings. He wore a midnight-blue tunic and white trousers with his signature leather sandals. He strode down the aisle, arms open and raised in greeting, eyes bright with holy fervor. No less than three women and twelve children followed him. They took a pew in front that had apparently been reserved for Father Jeff’s brood. Avery’s sister wasn’t one of the wives present. Where was she?
“Father,” Jonah said stiffly. “How good of you to join us.”
If Father Jeff was bothered by his son’s cool greeting, he didn’t show it. He climbed the steps to the stage and addressed his flock. “Family,” he said in an adoring tone.
“Father,” they shouted back in unison.
Yes, these were his followers. Not Jonah’s.
“I apologize for missing the music recital,” Father Jeff said. “I heard the performances were outstanding. Grace wasn’t feeling well, so I stayed with her. She’s been confined to bed rest until the baby comes.”
Grace, Avery’s mind whispered. Her sister’s name was Grace.
“I will pray for her confinement to end,” Jonah said.
Father Jeff squinted at this comment, which seemed to have a double meaning. Then he turned to her and Nick. He sized Nick up before moving on to Avery. Her breath caught in her throat as his gaze swept over her, lingering on her chest. She felt nauseated by his perusal, beyond nervous. It was almost like an out-of-body experience. She was staring down at herself, frozen in place.
“They are tainted,” Father Jeff said.
“I’ve cleansed them,” Jonah countered.
“We don’t accept outsiders.”
A hush fell over the crowd. Imogen stood like a deer in headlights. She seemed torn between her loyalty to Jonah and her natural inclination to agree with Father Jeff. She hadn’t wanted the Deans to join the commune. It appeared that Jonah hadn’t asked for his father’s approval in this matter. The tension on stage was palpable.
“We’ve accepted outsiders before,” Jonah said. “Our need is great, and they are worthy.”
Father Jeff stroked his beard, considering. “How can you guarantee their worth?”
Jonah glanced at Avery, as if her worth was clear. Nick bristled beside her, affronted on her behalf. Or perhaps on his own. Nick Dean thought highly of his botany skills, and he was the true believer between them.
“New members can’t be initiated without my blessing,” Father Jeff said. “I will look into their souls and cleanse them by my own hand.”
Jonah didn’t object to this suggestion. His father held the power here, even if Jonah had usurped him momentarily. Nick straightened his shoulders beside her, ready to be judged. He was confident in Father Jeff’s lack of psychic ability. Avery prayed the guru wouldn’t notice any resemblance between her and Grace. Father Jeff stepped in front of Nick first. The two men were about the same height. Although Nick kept his eyes downcast in a deferential manner, Father Jeff wasn’t satisfied.
“Kneel,” he said.
Nick knelt without argument. She’d criticized him for kneeling earlier, but she’d done it only to goad him. There was no weakness in Nick Diaz, no fear whatsoever. He wanted to see Father Jeff nailed to the wall, at any cost. She was afraid of the actions Nick would take to accomplish that goal.
Brother Sage brought a bowl of holy water for the blessing. Father Jeff dipped his thumb into the water and swept it over Nick’s forehead. He said a quick prayer before he shifted his attention to Avery. He didn’t ask her to kneel before him, thank God. She stood very still as his thumb painted a wet mark between her brows. Then he grasped her chin with one hand and searched her face.
“You are one of us,” he said. “Part of our family, as if born to us.”
Avery’s heart froze at this oddly accurate statement. Her eyes slid to Imogen, who might find the deeper meaning in those words. Father Jeff was a convincing performer. Avery felt like a rabbit caught in a trap, heart bursting with adrenaline. Was he making this up, or did he recognize her?
He moved his hand to her forehead, as if he could read her soul through his palm. “I see you barefoot in the woods. I see a newborn child.”
Avery swallowed hard, blinking rapidly. She didn’t know how to hide her fear, or how to suppress it, the way Nick did. Nick glanced up at her from his supplicant position. His hands were linked behind his back, his expression calm.
Father Jeff continued to surprise her. He grasped her shoulders and turned her toward the crowd. Embracing her from behind, he flattened her hands over her stomach. Her pulse raced and her skin crawled at his twisted exploration. She wanted to kick and scream and fight—for her sister, for her mother, for herself. Instead she stayed quiet, enduring his touch. The same way she’d endured it twenty years ago.
“No seed grows here,” he declared. “You are barren.”
Avery frowned at the strange diagnosis. She’d never tried to conceive a child, but she had no reason to believe she couldn’t. It dawned on her that Father Jeff was inventing a medical problem to cure in front of his loyal followers.
The realization calmed her nerves. She’d watched him perform this routine before. He couldn’t see into her past, and he couldn’t predict her future. He was just putting on a show, like any two-bit faith healer.
“I see you with a babe,” Father Jeff said. “You will be blessed in The Haven. Our land will be fertile and your belly will grow round with a child.”
Nick, who was still on his knees at her feet, wrapped a hand around her ankle. She wasn’t comforted by the gesture. Father Jeff continued to knead her stomach. She got the impression that he wanted to plant his seed there. She suppressed a shudder of disgust. Memories of him stroking her hair after her mother’s death assailed her. This was his style of leadership. He preyed on the needy and vulnerable. But she wasn’t a young, helpless girl anymore. She’d escaped him once before; she could escape him now.
She collapsed against him heavily, pretending to faint. Father Jeff wasn’t ready for this maneuver. She slid from his grasp like a wet noodle. Nick caught her fall, as she’d hoped. He cradled her in his arms and pressed his lips to her hair. She was vaguely aware of Father Jeff taking a bow on stage. The audience roared with applause. They loved a good healing, or groping, or whatever had just transpired.
Avery clung to Nick, sobbing.
The rest of the initiation passed in a blur. Nick helped Avery to her feet. She wiped the tears from her cheeks. Father Jeff recited one of his mystical chants and spoke about the power of faith. Imogen looked disappointed by the proceedings.
So did Jonah, but for different reasons. He seemed irritated with his father for stealing his thunder. He closed his bible with a snap as soon as the ritual was over. Then he presented the new members to the crowd.
“It is done. Brother Nick and Sister Ellen are part of our family.”
Father Jeff clapped Jonah on the back, a little too hard. He shook hands with Nick and Brother Sage. He ignored Imogen, who stood at Jonah’s side like a proper little minion. When the audience filed out, Father Jeff returned to his wives and went with them. Jonah gestured for Nick and Avery to follow him into a small room tucked behind the stage. He sat down at a large wooden desk. Nick and Avery took seats across from him. Sister Imogen poked her head in to check on them.
“Do you need anything from me, Brother Jonah?”
“No,” he said, waving her away.
“It was a great service.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll see you at lunch.”
“God’s grace.”
“God’s grace.”
Jonah folded his hands on top of the desk, his expression grave. “You didn’t tell me you couldn’t have children.”
Avery was still reeling from the ordeal on stage. She had no response for Jonah’s accusation.
“We didn’t know,” Nick said.
“You said you wanted a baby, but hadn’t been blessed yet.”
“That’s right.”
“Have you tried to get pregnant?” Jonah asked Avery.
She moistened her lips, uncertain.
“You can tell him,” Nick said.
Avery didn’t know what to tell him. They hadn’t decided on a specific script for every possibility. The best she could do was invent a plausible excuse and hope Jonah believed it. “We were going to let it happen naturally.”
“And it didn’t, after three years?”
“No.”
“Weren’t you concerned?”
“I was concerned about Nick,” she said. “Managing his illness has been my top priority. I haven’t thought of anything else.”
“So you could be infertile,” Jonah said.
“She’s not infertile,” Nick said. “Father Jeff just said she’d have a baby.”
Jonah’s mouth twisted with frustration. He couldn’t argue that his father was a charlatan whose word meant nothing. Nick grasped Avery’s hand and kissed her knuckles. She smiled at him tearfully.
“I don’t like being lied to,” Jonah said.
Nick released her hand. “My wife doesn’t lie.”
“Consider my perspective,” Jonah said to Nick. “I’ve invited two outsiders here for the first time in decades. I thought you were worthy of this honor, despite your illness. Her womb, and your ability to fill it, was a significant factor in your acceptance.”
“Forgive me,” Nick said, more contrite. “I downplayed the issue in the meeting yesterday, but Ellen is telling you the truth. We’ve been focused on my health instead of her desire for a child.” He gave Avery an apologetic glance before returning his attention to Jonah. “The fault is all mine.”
Jonah leaned back in his chair, dissatisfied.
“What can I do to prove my worth?”
“Get her with child as soon as possible. That will please my father.”
“Will it please you?”
Jonah’s gaze flitted between Nick and Avery. There was something melancholy about his expression, as if his pleasure couldn’t be attained. “It will please me if you follow my orders without question.”
Nick nodded his compliance. Avery stayed silent, her eyes downcast. They were supposed to be fruitful and multiply, not ask questions. Even so, Avery wondered about Jonah’s unmarried status, and the tension between him and his father. Jonah was old enough to take a wife, but hadn’t done so. He’d chosen Imogen to be part of his trusted inner circle. Avery had heard his critical tone when he’d spoken of Grace’s confinement. Maybe Jonah disagreed with his father’s treatment of women.
“Don’t mention your brain disease to anyone else,” Jonah said. “As of now, that matter is just between us.”
“Of course,” Nick said. “I feel better already.”
“God’s grace,” Jonah said, dismissing them.
“God’s grace,” Nick and Avery parroted.
They walked out of the rectory and into the bright sunshine. It was warm enough that she didn’t need her shawl, which she’d left behind. She hoped Sister Margot had retrieved it for her. As they headed down the path together, Avery noted the various groups of churchgoers chatting in the community’s center. There was a garden on one side and a ballpark on the other. Boys were already playing a game, their Sunday sleeves rolled up to the elbows. Girls were picking wildflowers at the edge of the field.
Avery had gathered flowers here as a child while her mother socialized. They’d both worked in the garden every summer. She pulled her gaze away from the humble scene. Nick led her past the churchgoers and continued toward the cabin. He seemed to understand that she needed to retreat. She was drained from the morning’s events, her head spinning with memories both dark and light.
They retreated to the cabin, which appeared even more cramped than before. She felt like a prisoner in a terrible sleepaway camp.
“Are you all right?” Nick asked.
“No.”
“What can I do to help?”
Overwhelmed, she sank into a chair. He poured her a fresh cup of water and sat down across from her.
“It’s okay to talk. I’ve checked every inch of this place.”
She took a sip of water, saying nothing.
“I had to kneel again.”
Her lips curved faintly. “I saw that.”
“Did he touch you, before you ran away?”
Avery hesitated before answering. She wasn’t eager to share the details of her past. She wouldn’t feel safe here no matter how many times he checked the cabin for listening devices. “He didn’t get the chance.”
“What do you mean?”
“He stroked my hair the night my mother died, and promised to take care of me. He said he needed a new bride.”
“Is that why you left?”
“It was a factor.”
Nick stood, rubbing a hand over his jaw. He paced the room a few times, visibly agitated. “I don’t think he recognized you. That’s the good news.”
“What’s the bad news?”
“The bad news is he’s not a fighter. He preys on defenseless girls, but he’s nonconfrontational with men. He couldn’t even look me in the eye. When the time comes, he’ll surrender to law enforcement.”
“Why is that bad news?”
“Because I’ll have to take him alive.”