Deceived: Lured from the Truth (Secrets) (7 page)

“Not exactly.”

“Rachel came out here to try our church,” Josiah tells him.

“Oh, you’re the girl I spoke with on the phone,” Mrs. Davis says. “Now I remember.”

“Well, I hope you enjoy the service. It won’t start until ten. But I’m sure Josiah will make you feel at home.”

“I’m just showing her around,” Josiah tells them.

“It’s such a beautiful property,” I say. “Such a lovely location for a dairy.”

“And not a bad place to live either,” she tells me.

“We’ll see you later.” Reverend Jim nods. And now Josiah and I continue with our walking tour. He shows me some more buildings related to the dairy. And then we walk down a wooded trail that follows the creek until we reach an area with lots of small wooden cabins nestled among the evergreens. There must be at least twenty of them.

“What is this? Some kind of a summer camp?”

“Lost Springs used to be a fishing resort,” he explains. “The fly-fishing on the creek is exceptional, and fishermen would rent the cabins.”

“It looks like some of them are occupied now.” I notice a young woman hanging laundry behind one of the cabins.

“Yeah, some of the dairy workers live here.” He points to a cabin off to our left. “That one’s mine.”

“How interesting and quaint. Do you live here year-round?”

“Sure. It’s a bit rustic, but we’ve been insulating them so they stay warmer in the winter.”

“I’d love to see inside of one,” I say.

“I’d show you my cabin, but my uncle has strict rules about not entertaining the opposite sex … if you know what I mean.”

My cheeks warm. “Of course. I wasn’t hinting for you to invite me into your cabin, Josiah. I simply meant they look charming and I —”

“Just pulling your leg. Come on, I’ll show you a vacant cabin over here. Who knows, maybe you’ll want to move in.”

He opens the door to reveal a small, dark interior where everything is made of wood. Wood-paneled walls, wood floors, and wood bunks. Enough for four to sleep. “Is there a bathroom?” I ask.

“You bet.” He opens a door next to an open closet, revealing a tiny bathroom, complete with a shower. “All the comforts.”

“Not bad.” And although I don’t mention it, I think this setup is preferable to the dorm where I live. At least it’s more private here.

After we leave the cabin area, Josiah takes the creek trail, which eventually wraps around, bringing us to another open area and several more camplike buildings, all with brown wooden siding and green metal roofs. Only these structures are much larger than the cabins. And some of them look newer.

He points to a tall lodgelike structure with big double doors in front. “That’s the meeting hall, where we have church.” Now he points out an older-looking low building. “That’s the dining hall.” Finally he points to what looks like a well-made log house. “And that’s my uncle’s home.”

“Nice.” I nod with appreciation. “It all has such a good feeling to it. Everything is so orderly and neat.” I look at the flower beds, with white and red petunias growing in straight, even rows. “Even the flowers are tidy.”

He smiles. “Uncle Jim likes it that way.”

“Well, I think it’s all very lovely. It’s like another country or going back in time. And not like the resort where I work either. They try to make everything look old-fashioned and sweet, but beneath the veneer it’s rather disappointing.” I smile at Josiah. “This feels real.”

“How about a real cup of coffee or something cool to drink?” He leads me over to the dining hall. “Breakfast is over by now, but there are still beverages to be had.”

I help myself to iced tea and Josiah fixes himself a coffee. “My mother would frown upon this too.” He holds up the cup.

“Coffee?”

“GEF opposes caffeine as much as alcohol and drugs.”

I nod. “That’s right. It’s one of the don’ts.”

“Part of a long monotonous list. Fortunately Uncle Jim did away with that part too. We’re allowed to drink coffee. But alcohol and drugs are still taboo.”

I’m curious to hear more, but before I can ask, some young people come up to say hello to Josiah. As he introduces me, I focus on trying to remember their names. Sometimes I use a game my dad taught me to help remember people’s names. You pick out something unique about a person and tie it to his or her name. However, these people strike me as strangely similar to each other. Not only do the women all have long hair, similar to mine, but they are also wearing longish dresses, which make my skirt look even shorter in contrast. However, everyone is warm and friendly and welcoming, and I don’t feel too out of place.

“I reckon we better get over to church.” Josiah points to the clock above the stone fireplace.

“Reverend Jim doesn’t tolerate tardiness,” a girl quietly tells me. “He says it’s rude and insulting to be late.”

“I completely agree.” I remember how many times Belinda has insulted me by being rudely late to work.

We walk together as a group toward the tall meeting house. The double doors are opened wide, and I can hear music wafting out. For some reason I assume it’s a recording, but as we go inside, I realize there’s a small choir of men and women up in front. The singing is actually live. And it’s very pleasant sounding too.

I smile at Josiah as he guides me up to one of the front pews. Although this building looks recently built, these wooden pews seem old. As we slide in, Josiah tells me in hushed tones that they were recycled from an old church. “I think they were from someplace back east. Like Pennsylvania.”

“Very cool,” I whisper.

Then as we sit there, quietly listening to the choir, I look at the big window up high in the arched point of the roof. It’s just a plain glass window, probably about five feet by five feet. But with the tall evergreen trees and the clear blue sky and golden sunlight pouring through, it’s far more exquisite than stained glass.

And suddenly, as I’m looking up there, I experience this unexplainable rush of joy — like God is really, truly here. Like he is most definitely in this incredible, amazing place — and I’m so happy I can actually feel tears filling my eyes.

I glance over at Josiah, wondering if he’s experiencing the same flood of emotions. But his eyes are closed and his head is bowed as if he’s praying. And that’s when I notice everyone else’s head is bowed in a similar fashion.

So even though I’d rather just stare out the beautiful window, I follow suit and bow my head as well. And with the clear, sweet tones of the choir’s singing washing over me, I feel more spiritually alive than I have ever felt before. I feel like I am finally home.

[CHAPTER 6]

“S
omeone’s in a good mood,” Belinda says in a slightly snotty tone as I’m humming to myself while scrubbing down the blender, which someone neglected to clean after making a triple berry smoothie that splashed all over the place.

“I’d be in a good mood too if I didn’t come in to work until one and got to leave at six thirty,” Lorna says.

“I wasn’t even scheduled to work today,” I remind them. “I only came in because Nadine was worried you guys would be swamped.” And we have been swamped. In fact, this is the first time without a customer since I got here, and it’s close to six thirty now. I’m well aware my coworkers are jealous that I have a short shift today. Even when I point out that they’re getting time and a half for more hours, they’re still mad at me. I suspect it’s related to my sanitation seminar last night. But I wish they’d just get over it.

“I’ve been here since eleven,” Belinda complains. “I should be the one getting off now.”

“You should’ve asked me to trade with you yesterday,” I tell her as I dip the washrag into the bleach solution and wring it out. “I already made plans for tonight.”

I don’t tell them that my plans involve going to church again. They wouldn’t get it. They already teased me for going to church this morning. They’d probably really let me have it for going twice in one day. But when I heard that Reverend Jim has an evening service at seven, I felt desperate to go. To that purpose I actually packed my clothes from this morning and at exactly six thirty, I duck into Nadine’s office, lock the door, and do a quick change.

Then I dash out the back door, avoiding more comments from my coworkers. As soon as I’m walking down the alley, I call my mom’s number. To my relief, she doesn’t answer. “I just want to let you know I’m going to church tonight,” I say lightly. “I know you and Nadine are barbecuing burgers, but don’t wait for me. I’m not sure if I’ll be back in time to watch the fireworks. If I miss it, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Now I remember that I forgot to recharge my phone today. “And I’m not sure if this old phone has much charge left in it, so I’ll probably turn it off. Have a good Fourth. Later.” I’m just closing the phone as I reach the appointed meeting spot in front of the post office, where Josiah is already waiting for me.

“I hope we won’t be late,” I say as I hop into the small car. “I came as fast as I could.”

“No worries. I explained the work situation to my uncle,” he says as he takes off. “He was glad you want to come back and said not to be concerned about it. If we’re late, we’ll just slip in a side door and hopefully no one will notice.”

“Thanks so much for picking me up.” I stuff my work uniform deeper into my bag. “I know I already gushed about how much I like your church. But I really do appreciate you making the effort to give me a ride.”

He gives me a genuine smile. “It’s my pleasure, Rachel.”

I look down at my skirt, which for some reason feels even shorter now than it did this morning. “I wish I had something more suitable to wear. I couldn’t help but notice how the women at your church dress pretty modestly.”

He nods in a halfhearted way. “Yeah … that’s something my uncle insists on. I actually think it might’ve been Celeste’s idea to start with. I’m not really sure.”

“Is it a rule?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know if it’s a rule exactly. I just know that all the women dress like that. To be honest, I thought it was sort of odd at first. It took some getting used to, but now I hardly notice it anymore.”

I tug the hem of my skirt down to my knees. “I kind of get it. I mean, it’s aggravating that most girls don’t practice any kind of modesty, so I think it’s refreshing when women aren’t flaunting their flesh.” I giggle nervously. “I hate the uniforms Nadine makes us wear at work. Seriously, the first time I put on those short-shorts, I was like —
Are you kidding?
But then I suppose I got used to it. And with no air-conditioning, well, who wants to wear long pants? But when I think of how the women at your church were dressed today, well, it makes my uniform seem pretty skanky.”

“I reckon I can see your point. But to be honest, I sort of fancy your work uniform.” He laughs. “Of course, I won’t admit that to my uncle anytime soon.”

I gently punch him in the arm. “I guess you can’t help that you’re a normal hot-blooded guy. But the more I think about it, the more I understand why your uncle wants women to dress modestly. It just seems more proper … more dignified.”

“So you wouldn’t have a problem dressing like that?” He glances at me with a curious expression. “Wearing granny dresses?”

“That’s what you call them?”

“It’s what I thought when I first got here and saw all these women wearing baggy dresses down past their knees. It reminded me of my great-grandma back when I was a little tyke. She dressed just like that. Granny dresses.”

“You know, as weird as it sounds, I think it’d actually be a relief to dress like that,” I admit. “But I’m pretty old-fashioned at heart. To be honest, there’s a lot about our culture I’m not real crazy about.” Now I remember the scantily clad women I see in the ice cream shop all the time. Sure, they’ve been out on the lake, but I sometimes feel embarrassed or even disgusted by how much skin they’re showing. “Seriously, when did it become acceptable for girls to go around practically naked?”

“It’s been like that for as long as I can remember.” He sighs. “But I lived in Sydney.” He lets out a low whistle. “Believe me, you can see everything and anything on a Sydney beach.”

“I’ll bet you can.” Now I feel slightly unsure. Does he disagree with his uncle on this issue? And if so, why? But just as I’m trying to think of a tactful way to ask him about this, he pulls over — right on the shoulder of the highway.

“What’s wrong?” I ask as he comes to a fast stop.

He puts the car in reverse now, and with his head turned around, he quickly backs up.

“Where are you going — ?”

“A hitchhiker,” he tells me.

“You’re picking up a hitchhiker?” I give him a horrified look. Is he nuts?

“Uh-huh.”

I turn around to see who he’s going back for and am surprised to spot a young woman about twenty yards back. And speaking of scantily clad — or were we? — this girl has on shorts even skimpier than my work uniform. This is paired with a strapless purple band that looks more like a scarf than a top. To complete her ensemble, which seriously resembles a hooker, she has on tall shiny black boots. “You’re really picking her up?” I say in a meek voice. “What if she’s dangerous?”

He chuckles. “You think she’s got a derringer in her boot?”

“Maybe …”

“It’ll be all right. God is watching out for us, Rachel. And remember this morning’s sermon? About how God wants us to reach out to everyone and anyone, no matter what they look like?”

“But … I … uh …” I don’t even know what to say. I’m tempted to tell him my mom has made me swear to never pick up a hitchhiker. Never, ever. But then I’m not driving.

“G’day.” Josiah sticks his head out the window, waving to her. “Come on — if you want a lift.”

The girl walks up and bends down to peer in my window, and seemingly satisfied that we don’t look like thugs, she climbs into the back of the small car. “Thanks for stopping! I was ready to give up.”

“Where ya headed?” Josiah asks as he takes off.

“I don’t really care. Maybe Seattle.”

“You don’t have any bags,” I point out. “Traveling rather light, aren’t you?”

“I had to make a quick getaway, if you get my drift.”

“Well, it’s doubtful you’ll make it to Seattle tonight,” Josiah tells her. “And hitching in the dark seems a bit dodgy.”