Avery folded her hands in her lap as they headed back to the communal center.
Jonah was a careful driver, unlike his brother. She could feel his eyes on her flushed face, gauging her reaction to Nick’s kiss. Although it was normal for a husband to kiss his wife goodbye, the contact hadn’t felt practiced or commonplace. She was worried that Jonah would pick up on the sexual tension between them. Married couples weren’t supposed to have that kind of tension. Nick and Ellen had been ordered to make a baby. They should be in a state of relaxed, postcoital bliss.
Jonah pulled to a stop behind the church, next to the door to his rectory. “Is everything okay with Brother Nick?”
“Of course,” she said.
“It looked like you were arguing.”
She bowed her head, as if in shame. In reality, it was anger. She couldn’t believe Nick had ordered her to obey him, and then kissed her two minutes later. He was lucky she hadn’t bit him and drawn blood.
“Do you think he’s working too hard?”
“It’s not my place to criticize,” she demurred.
“A husband should please his wife.”
Avery didn’t know what to say, so she stayed quiet. Jonah was difficult to read, like a master chess player. She couldn’t guess his next move. Did he want her to agree with him, or demonstrate loyalty to Nick?
“Our ways must seem strange to you,” Jonah said.
“I’m settling in,” she said. “Everyone has been so welcoming.”
He arched a brow. “Even Sister Imogen?”
Her lips parted with surprise.
Jonah chuckled at her reaction. “She can be a little uptight.”
Avery got the impression that he was trying to disarm her with his casual tone and conspiratorial attitude. It was working. His eyes glinted with sincerity. His clean-cut good looks gave him a boyish appeal. He wore black slacks and a white cotton shirt with the cuffs rolled up to his elbows. She wouldn’t forget that he’d made her strip and walk naked through the woods, but she could have a civil conversation with him. He wasn’t needlessly cruel, like Jeremiah. Jonah was deliberate in every action.
“Don’t be afraid to come to me if you have any problems,” Jonah said. “Giving spiritual guidance is my favorite part of the job. My door is always open, and that goes for my home as well as my office.” He pointed to the house where Father Jeff used to live. “Drop by anytime. Day or night.”
“I appreciate that.”
“The health center is right here. We’re neighbors.”
She glanced at the building he indicated. The front door was about ten steps from the church rectory where he wrote sermons and guided wayward spirits.
“I’ll give you a tour.”
She rose from the passenger seat, swallowing her unease. She wasn’t eager to be alone in an enclosed space with him. Handsome or not, he was still creepy, and his twenty-four-hour availability struck her as overkill. She doubted he invited every member of his flock to call on him in the middle of the night. He had an ulterior motive for taking her under his wing. Maybe he wanted to antagonize Nick. The two men had acted like adversaries earlier. Maybe Jonah found her attractive and considered her a ripe candidate for an affair. Even in this staunchly religious sect, people committed sins of the flesh. Powerful men of all walks of life couldn’t seem to resist. There was also the possibility that Jonah imagined himself as her next husband—after Nick died of his “illness.”
Disquieted by the thought, she stalled him before he reached the door to the health center. “There is something you could do for me.”
He puffed out his chest. “Name it.”
“I can’t see properly without my glasses. I’m afraid it will interfere with my nursing duties.”
“No problem,” he said. “Your glasses are in my office. I’ll get them for you.”
“Do you have Nick’s watch?”
He hesitated. “A watch isn’t a medical necessity.”
“It is for him,” she said. “He loses track of time and forgets things because of his condition. He can recall a wealth of scientific information about plants and growing seasons, but he struggles with daily routines. The watch helps him immensely.”
Jonah’s brow furrowed with disapproval. He wasn’t as enthusiastic about bending the rules for Mr. Dean.
She touched his arm, which felt strong despite his slender build. “Please. I’ll be so grateful.”
Her breathy request did the trick. He was a clever strategist and a dedicated preacher, but he was also a man. A lonely man, if her feminine instincts were correct. A man who hadn’t yet chosen a wife, perhaps because a teenaged bride didn’t appeal to him. “Come with me,” he said, changing directions.
They entered through the back door of the church and continued to his rectory. Both were unlocked; there was no crime here. She filed that information away as Jonah rounded his desk. The top drawer held her prescription lenses, wrapped in soft cloth. He rummaged through another drawer for the watch, which appeared to have been tossed inside without care. He gave the watch a cursory inspection. It was a dated analog timepiece, harmless looking and clunky. She wondered if it truly held any sentimental value for Nick.
“These items aren’t to be flaunted,” Jonah said. “You will wear the glasses only when you need them to care for a patient. Brother Nick can keep the watch in his pocket. Is that understood?”
“Of course,” she gushed. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome,” he said, studying her. He seemed to be contemplating a recoupment for his generosity. She stuck the treasures in the pocket of her voluminous skirt and left his office before he could make a suggestion. They returned to their original destination, the health center. Now there was a woman standing outside the building. She wore a buttoned-up gray dress with a spotless blue apron. Her hair was pulled back into a severe bun. She looked like an older version of Imogen. With a start, Avery realized she was Imogen’s mother.
Imogen’s mother…and Gary’s first wife. Avery’s mother had been Gary’s second wife. Avery had lived in this woman’s household in the years before she’d escaped.
“Sister Katharine,” Jonah said. “How lovely to see you.”
They exchanged greetings, and Jonah introduced Avery as Katharine’s new assistant. Katharine studied her without comment. There was no flicker of recognition in her eyes. She didn’t remember Avery as the skinny girl who’d babysat her children.
Avery breathed a sigh of relief. She’d dodged another bullet. Every time she met someone from her past, she tensed in anticipation of discovery. The possibility hung over her like a dark cloud. Her anxiety doubled when Nick wasn’t around to monopolize the attention. She wondered if her luck would run out eventually. It could happen any moment. Someone could look twice at her this afternoon, or tomorrow morning. A single whisper of her former name could jeopardize the mission.
Instead of giving the tour he’d promised, Jonah made an excuse to leave. He wasn’t as interested in spending time with Avery when there was a chaperone around. Katharine led Avery through the medical center, which had first aid supplies, an exam table and some basic equipment. There were herbs growing on the windowsill. Jars of ingredients for homeopathic remedies lined a shelf. They appeared neatly labeled, but Avery couldn’t read them without her glasses. While Avery had nothing against alternative medicine, she had misgivings about Katharine. She remembered her as a stern woman, even cold. Avery wondered if she’d been selected for the job, or if she’d volunteered.
“Have you been trained as a midwife?” Katharine asked.
“I’m afraid not,” Avery replied. “I was a pediatric nurse.”
“So you’ve handled newborns.”
She nodded, though she didn’t have much experience with infants. She’d held both of Chuck’s sons when they were only a few weeks old. They’d been so wrinkled and helpless, like little hairless possums. She remembered smiling as Tyson clutched her thumb in his tiny hand. She might have an aversion to all things maternal, due to her mother’s untimely death, but she could hold a baby without having a panic attack.
“I have to make a house call,” Katharine said. “You can come with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“To Father Jeff’s. Grace is in her final month.”
Avery’s stress level skyrocketed. She couldn’t think of a reason to decline, so she didn’t. Staying behind might mean spending the morning in Jonah’s company. As much as she’d like to avoid Father Jeff, she was curious about her sister. The prospect of seeing Grace filled her with equal parts anxiety, dread and hope.
Sister Katharine collected a leather satchel from the health office before they set out. They walked along the same path Avery and Nick had taken to enter the commune. She wondered if Katharine had any real medical supplies, or just backwoods remedies. Imogen had confirmed what Avery already knew from experience: the members of this community didn’t believe in modern medicine. Modern golf carts, however, were acceptable.
“Can I carry your bag?” she offered.
“It’s not heavy,” Katharine replied.
“What’s in it?”
“Bandages, antiseptic, ointment. The usual assortment.”
Avery didn’t remark on the content. It was better than toadstools and milkweed. “Are you related to Imogen?”
“She’s my daughter,” Katharine said.
“You look alike.”
Katharine touched her face, as if she’d forgotten the resemblance. Avery regretted broaching the subject, because it might invite Katharine to make a similar comparison. The woman had known her mother.
“Is Imogen married?” Avery asked, hoping to distract her.
It worked. Katharine’s eyes narrowed with pique. “No, she’s not.”
“Does she wish to stay independent?”
“She’s very dedicated to her secretary position.”
“Hmm.”
“My younger daughter, Isobel, is married,” Katharine said. “She’s expecting, too. We’ll check in on her during the home visit.”
Avery vaguely remembered Isobel, who’d been a toddler twenty years ago. “Is she married to Father Jeff?”
“Brother Jeremiah,” Katharine corrected proudly.
It was clear that Katharine approved of her younger daughter’s life choices. Isobel had married the son of the prophet. She lived on the elite compound with a husband who wasn’t an old man. Jeremiah’s awful personality didn’t seem to bother Katharine as much as Imogen’s single status.
“I supposed you’re used to secular ways,” Katharine said. “Women having careers instead of families.”
“Some have both,” Avery replied.
“It’s poison.”
“What do you mean?”
“Those kinds of ideas infect a woman’s body and keep her from increasing. You’re lucky Father Jeff cleansed you.”
Avery withheld comment. It wouldn’t do any good to assert that her beliefs had no scientific basis. Access to birth control was the key to fewer pregnancies. She wondered if any natural contraceptives grew in the woods around here. These poor women needed all the help with family planning they could get.
“Do you have a husband?” Avery asked.
“He passed,” Katharine said. “Five years now.”
“My condolences,” Avery said.
She felt no sadness over the death of her stepfather, who had slapped her the last time she’d spoken to him. Katharine didn’t appear broken up about it, either. She didn’t miss a step as she strode forward.
They approached the gate where a teenaged boy was standing guard. He opened it with a mumbled greeting. As they walked through it, a wave of memories washed over her. Twenty years ago, there had been no armed guards to stop her, and no razor wire. She’d climbed the fence easily. As soon as she was on the other side, she’d run like the wind. The desire to do the same thing now was difficult to resist.
You’ll do what I say, and that’s final.
Nick’s highhanded command didn’t keep her grounded. If anything, it encouraged her to flee, because screw him and his stupid orders. She wasn’t his employee. She wasn’t his wife. She didn’t care about his investigation. She wanted to see her sister.
It was a short walk to the Silva compound. A second guard let them inside a wrought iron gate. He looked as bored and callow as the previous one. She hoped these boys had been given training on weapons safety, because the automatic rifles they carried were no joke. Beyond the gate, there was a mini-commune of sorts. A ranch-style home loomed large in the distance. Several smaller buildings in the foreground resembled guesthouses, or servants’ quarters. The estate itself was neither grand nor well cared for. The grass needed cutting. There was a playground with children’s toys strewn about.
“We’ll visit Grace first,” Katharine said. “She lives in the garden house.”
The garden house was more of a groundskeeper’s shack. The no-frills structure was nestled amid an overgrown bramble of rosebushes at the end of a cobblestone path. As the front of the building came into view, Avery spotted a young woman with a rounded belly sitting in a lounge chair. She jumped up with impressive alacrity and tossed something into a murky-looking miniature pond. Then she rushed into the cottage and slammed the door.
The pungent odor of marijuana hit Avery’s nostrils as they ventured forward. It was as much of a shock as the disorganized grounds. She glanced at Katharine, who said nothing. The midwife either didn’t notice the scent or couldn’t identify it. Had she never encountered the drug in her sheltered existence?
Katharine rapped her knuckles on the door. “Grace?”
“Go away.”
“You’re supposed to be confined to bed rest.”
“I’m resting.”
“You’re up and about.”
“I feel fine. Leave me alone.”
Short of busting down the door, there wasn’t much Katharine could do. She wore a sour expression as they retreated.
“She’s a difficult patient,” Katharine said. “Always has been.”
“Why is that?”
“She doesn’t think I’m qualified to be a midwife, for one. I took over for her mother, who passed away last year.”
Avery had wondered who raised Grace. The most logical choice was Katharine, because Grace had been born in her household. Imogen, Isobel and Grace were half sisters. They all shared the same father. Katharine could have kept the child. Instead, it seemed she’d gotten rid of the evidence of her husband’s second union.
“Grace wanted the job,” Katharine continued. “Father Jeff forbid it. Her place is here, serving him.”
“Why is she confined?”
“It’s just a precaution,” Katharine said. “She fell off a bike last week. She shouldn’t have been riding, of course. But as you can see, she’s headstrong. That’s why she lives by herself. She hasn’t learned how to get along with the other wives.”
Avery remembered how difficult this situation had been for her mother. Sarah had never been accepted by Katharine. The two wives had occupied different areas of the same house. Avery and her mother had been treated like intruders instead of family members. They’d known they weren’t welcome.
“Does Grace get along with Isobel?” Avery asked.
“Not as well as she used to,” Katharine admitted. “They were like sisters as children.”
They were literally half sisters.
As they ventured farther into Father Jeff’s lair, Avery studied their surroundings. Between the gate and the main house there was a structure that appeared to be a guard tower. It sat on a raised platform, high enough to overlook the rest of the compound, as well as the neighboring commune. There were a couple of cabins at the base of the tower. Dirt bike trails zigzagged in every direction, with various ramps and jumps. A trio of teenaged boys stood around a ping-pong table, arguing in boisterous volume.
“The guards live here?” Avery asked.
“Most of them do. They need to be available around the clock. Keeping us safe is an important job.”
Avery assumed the guards were also making sure no one escaped. They looked bored with their duties, but security detail was easier than farmwork. There were perks in the form of recreation activities, and private cabins with no parental guidance.
“This is Isobel and Jeremiah’s house,” Katharine said.
Avery turned her attention to a basic modular home opposite the guard cabins. The front door was open. Katharine announced their visit and let herself in. The space was as tidy as a pin, with homespun decor. Yellow curtains fluttered in the kitchen window. A vase filled with wildflowers adorned the dining table.
“Isobel?” Katharine called.
There was no response.
Frowning, Katharine continued out the back door. Avery followed, curious. A trim young woman with a wicker basket was standing with her back to them, hanging freshly washed clothing on a line to dry.
Isobel didn’t turn at the sound of Katharine’s voice. She didn’t turn when Katharine touched her shoulder, either. The young woman sank to her knees in the grass and covered her face. Avery rushed to join them, concerned about her medical condition. Isobel’s gently rounded stomach indicated she was in her second trimester. Katharine knelt beside Isobel and moved her hands away from her face. She had a split lip and a swollen eye.
Jeremiah.
“What happened?” Katharine asked.
Isobel embraced her mother, weeping.
“Did you anger him?”
“I didn’t mean to. I just asked him why he was going over there, and he—”
Katharine cradled her daughter’s head to her chest and smoothed her hair. “You mustn’t question him, darling.”
Avery was disturbed by Katharine’s advice, but not surprised. Women held no power in their community. They simply had to endure whatever abuse they were dealt. Isobel couldn’t argue with Jeremiah. If she reported his behavior to someone who might care, like Jonah, she risked incurring more of Jeremiah’s wrath.
They went inside the house, where Katharine performed a basic exam in the living room. Isobel rested on a sofa with a cool washcloth on her forehead. She resembled Imogen so much the two could be twins. Both were pretty, petite and dark-haired. Katharine placed a cold compress on Isobel’s left eye. Katharine might not be the kindest soul, but she appeared to love Isobel. Avery felt a pang of sympathy for both of them. No mother wanted to see her child in physical or emotional pain.
“Did you take her breakfast?” Katharine asked.
“How could I?” Isobel wailed. “This is all her fault.”
Katharine made a sound that was part soothing, part shushing. “She’s supposed to be confined, sweeting.”
“She doesn’t need any help. I’m the one who’s hurt.”
Avery realized this conflict was about Grace. Jeremiah and Grace? Avery couldn’t sort through all the different levels of dysfunction and twisted connections around here. Katharine spent the next few minutes fussing over her daughter. Before they left, Katharine packed a breakfast in a wicker basket. She left it on Grace’s doorstep.
“Tomorrow, you’re getting an exam,” Katharine said through the door. “Father Jeff’s orders.”
Grace’s response was unintelligible. Avery desperately wanted to barge in and see her sister face-to-face. She wanted to ask her a thousand questions. Most of all, she wanted to rescue her from this nightmare. Grace was confined in the garden house like a prisoner in a penitentiary for wayward wives.
Katharine didn’t speak as they walked back to the commune, which gave Avery time to consider her options. Maybe she could return to the compound with Katharine tomorrow and get a chance to meet Grace.
Or maybe she could return without Katharine, and find a way to help Grace escape.