Deceived: Lured from the Truth (Secrets) (20 page)

BOOK: Deceived: Lured from the Truth (Secrets)
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Now he smiles. “Well, no reason you can’t do that.”

“Really?”

“Wait here.” He points to the door. “I’ll go put the dogs back in the kennel.”

As I return to the door, I spot the piece of cardboard I’d used to stick in the door. I pick it up and tuck it in my pocket. Before long the dogs are gone and Reverend Jim is opening the door. “Come on out,” he tells me. “There’s a nice three-quarter moon out.”

I’m trying to think of a way to tell him that he doesn’t have to stay out here with me, but he’s already sitting down on one of the patio chairs, nodding to the one opposite it. “Come on, Rachel, sit down. I’ve been wanting to talk to you anyway. This is a great opportunity.”

I sit primly down on the chair, clasping my hands in my lap and trying not to stare at his pale bare chest. Reverend Jim must be about as old as my dad, but he doesn’t seem to be in as good of shape.

“That was an excellent dinner,” he tells me. “I meant to come in and tell you.”

“Thank you.” I can feel my palms sweating.

“I was surprised you didn’t join us at the table. Celeste said you weren’t quite comfortable with that yet. I hope that will change soon. We do consider you as part of our family. You know that, don’t you?” He smiles broadly and his teeth glisten in the moonlight.

I nod. “Yes. Celeste has been very welcoming. It’s just there was a lot to do, and I was getting used to the kitchen. And I didn’t have time to clean up. I’ll try to do better.”

“That’s just one of the things I like about you, Rachel. You try so hard. You always seem to give 110 percent.” He reaches over, places his hand on my shoulder, and gives it a squeeze. “I appreciate that and I’m truly pleased to have you as part of our family.” He stands with his hand still on my shoulder.

“Thank you.” I can feel my heart pounding now — in that warning “take flight or fight” sort of way. And yet I remain sitting. Partly because it feels like the hand on my shoulder is pinning me there and partly because my knees feel like gelatin.

“I don’t think you’ve met Jan yet, but I can assure you that Celeste and Kellie are already quite fond of you.” He moves around behind me, placing a hand on my other shoulder, and now he’s gently massaging my shoulders and upper back. “And I am too, Rachel. You’re a talented and exceptionally pretty girl. And I can tell you have a heart to serve God and your fellow man. The first time Josiah brought you to us, I could tell you were a very special girl. Someone I wanted to get to know better.”

I feel slightly sick to my stomach now. Strange because I barely ate any dinner. But I think if I suddenly threw up, it would put a quick end to this awkward moment.

“I can feel the tension in your shoulders,” he calmly tells me as he continues to gently massage. “I’m sure it must be hard work cooking for all of us. You should try to relax more, Rachel. Work is good, but it’s important to have fun too.”

I swallow hard and somehow find the strength to stand up and turn around and face him. “You’re right,” I say in a raspy voice. “I am tired. It’s been a long day.”

He nods with a twinkle in his eye. Like he’s enjoying some private joke. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard the news.”

“News?” I inch back toward the kitchen door.

“Josiah has left us.” He holds up his hands with a sad expression.

I pretend to be shocked. “What do you mean?”

“Josiah decided that he doesn’t fit in here.”

“Why?”

“I’m not sure. All he said was that he’d had enough. He wanted to leave and never come back.”

“Never?” My voice cracks and I’m on the verge of tears again. Not just because of Josiah running off, but also because of what I feel are the reverend’s improper advances. And I do not think I’m imagining things.

“I’m sorry.” He steps closer to me. “I know how you felt about Josiah.” Again he places his hands on my shoulders. “But I do think it’s for the best, Rachel. You belong here, but he does not.” He lets out a sad sigh. “I had such hopes for him … for both of you. But Josiah has let me down.” Now he pulls me close to him, enclosing me in a firm hug, and my face is pressed against his chest and the smell of him makes me feel truly ill. And I’m crying.

“Don’t despair, my little one,” he whispers in my ear. “I will take care of you.”

Everything in me wants to scream and run. But the thought of that shiny gun … the guard dogs … Hannah’s warning — I know I need to be careful. “Thank you,” I say quietly. “It’s upsetting to hear that about Josiah.” I gently extract myself from his arms. “And I just need to process everything.”

He touches my cheek, looking down at me with sympathetic eyes. “I understand, Rachel. Just remember you’re in good hands now. You’re with family. We’ll take care of you.”

“Thanks,” I mutter. Then somehow I get away from him and into the house. I’m up in my room, my back leaning against the door as I try to catch my breath. I’m about to lock the door when I realize there is no lock. So I slide the big, long dresser in front of it. With my dress on, I climb into bed, and with tears of desperation sliding down my cheeks, I attempt to pray. But instead of truly praying, my mind is running in circles.

First I’m trying to figure out how Josiah could’ve left me like this. Then I’m trying to figure out how I’ll get out of here. Like a ping-pong ball, I bounce back and forth between these two subjects. Finally I realize I’ll never figure out why Josiah did this. Maybe someday my heart will heal. In the meantime, I need to devise a plan to escape from this place.

[CHAPTER 17]

A
fter my second nearly sleepless night, I’m feeling both frazzled and fearful. As I make breakfast — which is only for four, the reverend and two of his wives and me — it takes all my concentration to stay focused on the food. I wish I could eat in the kitchen by myself, but Celeste has made it clear that I’m to join them.

And although they praise the crepes with berries and the eggs I scrambled with fresh veggies and cheese, I can only nod in a humble way as I try to look like I’m eating. But the food tastes like cardboard and sawdust, and my stomach is tied in knots. Even so, I force myself to shovel in some bites. I know I’ll need the fuel if I’m going to pull off what I have in mind.

It isn’t until after lunch that I attempt to convince Celeste that I need to get some more veggies for dinner. For some reason she doesn’t seem to completely trust me. Perhaps I’m acting overly eager. “I suppose you could send Kellie,” I tell her, trying to appear as if I don’t really care. “But if the veggies are tough or not right, we can’t really blame her. Selecting good produce is an acquired skill.”

Celeste seems to get this. “I’m sure you’re right. I’ve never been good at picking out melons or tomatoes.”

“I could teach you.”

Now she laughs, waving her hand dismissively. “No thank you. I’d rather delegate that responsibility to you. So be on your way then, Rachel. And while you’re there, why don’t you get some more of those delectable berries you served for breakfast. They were absolutely gorgeous.”

“I’ll do that.” I reach for the basket, looping it over my arm. And just like that, I walk out of the house. Feeling like I’ve just been sprung from prison, I try not to look too eager or excited as I walk toward the dining hall and garden. I planned this all out last night. I will actually go to the garden as I said. And I will gather some vegetables and fruit. But instead of returning back through the dining hall, I will pretend to be interested in looking at the chickens even though I’ve been in the chicken yard before. I know there’s a gate back there because I’ve seen Hannah pushing a wheelbarrow through it. My plan is to use it as my exit.

And because the chicken yard backs up to the woods, I suspect I can continue directly through the woods until I reach the creek trail, which I will follow on down to the footbridge. Then I’ll take the secret path that leads to the hobbit hut Josiah built. There I will hide out until the sun sets. I’ll use the light of the moon to find my way back over the footbridge and through the woods until I reach the cow pasture. I’ll cut through the pasture until I reach the road. It seems like a good plan. By tonight, I’ll be free.

I look down at my dress as I walk up to the dining hall. I specifically chose this one because the calico is dark with shades of purple and gray and black, and I hope it will be like camouflage and hide me as I make my getaway. I’m also wearing my sturdiest shoes.

I greet the kitchen workers and am relieved to see that Eleanor isn’t there right now. That is a lucky break. She might notice that I don’t pass back through the kitchen and get suspicious. My next lucky break is that Hannah is preoccupied with harvesting cucumbers that Eleanor wants for pickle making. I simply wave to her and tell her I’ll help myself.

To keep this realistic as well as to have something to eat later, I do pick some produce. But I do this as quickly as I can without drawing attention to myself. Then I slip into the chicken yard and pretend to greet the chickens like I’ve seen Hannah do. I make my way across, open the gate, and hurry on my way.

My heart is pounding with anxiety as I press through the woods. If I take a straight course, I should reach the creek trail in about five minutes. However, it seems to take longer. When I finally reach the trail, I turn to go downstream, hurrying along, eager to reach my hideaway. My heart isn’t pounding quite so furiously now, but I won’t be able to breathe easily until I’m hidden safely within the hut.

Spying the footbridge, I begin to jog, eager to make it across — and then I see them. Two men are coming directly toward me. I stop in my tracks, tempted to turn and run the opposite direction. But then I hear the sound of barking. The men have a pair of large dogs on leashes. Probably Reverend Jim’s guard dogs.

“Wait right there!” one of the men yells at me.

I remain still, desperately trying to concoct a story about why I’m out here like this as they hurry toward me with the dogs lunging on their leashes.

“What are you doing out here?” Deacon Clarence demands.

“I, uh, I came out to collect mushrooms.”

“Mushrooms?” He narrows his eyes, and I suddenly remember how Monique ran away because this overweight middle-aged lecher wanted to marry her. “What mushrooms?” he growls at me.

“Wild mushrooms … in the woods,” I say innocently. “I want to gather some for dinner tonight.”

“What sort of mushrooms does one find in this part of Idaho?” Deacon Don speaks in a calmer tone. I know he’s Bethany and Lydia’s father. And for some reason he seems more sympathetic.

“Chanterelles.”

Now he frowns. “You’ve seen them?”

“Oh yes,” I assure him.

“Where are these chanterelles?”

I point across the creek. “Over there.”

“Would you care to show us?”

“Don,”
Deacon Clarence says with irritation. “Can’t you see she’s lying?”

Don gives him a look. “Why don’t we let her show us the
chanterelles
.” He points at me. “Lead the way.”

As I’m walking toward the footbridge, I can hear them whispering something behind me and then they start laughing.

“Let’s not go on a wild-goose chase,” Deacon Clarence calls out as I’m about to step on the bridge. “Deacon Don just told me he grew up in Oregon where chanterelles actually do grow. But he says they don’t show up until autumn.”

I turn to look at them.

“Sorry, Rachel.” Deacon Don shakes his head. “But it was your own lie that trapped you.”

“You’re coming with us,” Deacon Clarence sternly tells me.

There’s no point to fight them. They have the power … and the dogs. Before long I’m sitting in the reverend’s office, and he is looking at me with disappointment. “I was afraid it would come to this,” he sadly tells me. “After Josiah left … I was worried you’d try to leave too.”

I’m trying to think of something to say, but my brain feels fuzzy.

“You could fit in so well here, Rachel. You have all the qualities I look for in a young woman.” He peers intently at me. “Are you truly that unhappy here?”

I nod, tears burning in my eyes. “I want to leave,” I say meekly. “I wouldn’t have tried to run away … except I didn’t think you’d let me go.”

“Do you think we hold people here against their will?”

I shrug. “I’m not sure. I guess I don’t really know.”

“I only want to care for my children. God has chosen me to guide and direct, to provide for and protect, to lead and teach. I try to do what I think is best for my children. But sometimes children rebel and go astray … sometimes children require loving discipline to help them get back on the right path.”

Suddenly I remember something. “I’m only seventeen,” I blurt out.

He only seems mildly surprised as he simply nods.

“To keep me here against my will is like kidnapping.”

“Those are the laws of a flawed and sinful world. We have a higher law here.”

“But I want to go.”

“Enough!” He slams the palm of his hand on his desk, making a loud bang that makes me jump. Then he picks up the phone. “Send the deacons back in,” he says in a flat tone.

And now Deacon Don and Deacon Clarence come in.

“Take her,” the reverend tells them. He nods to Deacon Clarence. “I no longer have any use for her. But perhaps you can help bring her back to her senses.”

“Come on, to your feet.” Deacon Clarence roughly grabs me by the arm. And now the two of them — one on either side of me — are escorting me out of the reverend’s office.

“You’re hurting me.” Then I remember being told that the best way to prevent being abducted is to make noise. “Please, don’t do this!” I cry as they push me down the hallway. “I’m only seventeen. This is kidnapping. It’s a criminal offense.” Even as I scream for help, the men drag me through the reception area. Rose doesn’t even look up from her desk.

“Rose!
Help me!
Call 911!”

Deacon Clarence laughs in a mean way. “She thinks that phone is an outside line.” Then as we go outside, he shakes me. “Straighten up, girl!”

“This will be easier if you cooperate,” Deacon Don warns me.

My mind is racing now. Somehow I have to make enough fuss and enough noise that someone will come out here to help me. But when I start to scream, Deacon Clarence smacks me with his closed fist. Not in the face, but against the side of my head and so hard that my ears are ringing and I think I see stars.

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