скачать книгу бесплатно
He wanted to put his hands around his throat and choke the life out of him…as Buford had done to Ginny. But he wouldn’t. Caroline Whitten’s life depended on his honor as a ranger, and he wouldn’t forget that.
“What is your name, my son?” Buford asked.
“Eli Carter,” he replied, using the fake name the FBI had given him.
“Are you in trouble with the law?”
“I’m separated from my wife, and when I went to the house to see my kids, she called the cops and had me arrested. In the separation agreement I’m suppose to be providing child support, but I lost my job and was unable to pay her any money.” That was the story the FBI had also given him. Buford hated women who tried to dominate a man.
“Women do not know their place in this world.”
Neither do you, you bastard.
“Tell me about it,” Eli murmured.
“All persecuted souls are welcome here. You will work for your food. There are fields to tend and goats to milk, but you can only stay if you follow the rules and the prophet’s word.”
“No problem.”
“This is Ezra and Peter.” Buford introduced the men.
“They’re in charge of guarding the compound…and me.” He let that sink in, then added, “They will search you for any hidden devices that might harm us. Do you object?”
Eli got the feeling it didn’t matter whether he did or not. “No. I have nothing to hide.”
Ezra, a big somber man, gave him a thorough once-over. He nodded to Buford.
“We have to be careful,” Buford said. “There are people out to hurt us.”
“I just need a place to stay.”
“Then you’re welcome here, brother. You will not speak to the women, though. They’re off-limits to you. Do you understand?”
“Sure. A woman is the last thing on my mind.”
“If you’re in need of female comfort, let me know and I will arrange something.”
Eli managed to suppress his shock. Did they share the women? It was too sickening to think about.
“You will have a trial period, then you’ll be asked to join us in our beliefs or to leave.”
“I understand and thank you.”
The words tasted like sawdust in his mouth.
“We don’t have extra sleeping quarters, but there are some heavy quilts you can use to sleep under the stars, or if the weather is bad, you can sleep in the eating area.”
“Thanks,” Eli said again.
“Brother Michael and his sons are cutting wood. Brother Samuel will take you to help them.”
“Sure,” Eli replied, and they left. Outside he wanted to suck fresh air into his lungs, but he resisted and followed Samuel through the woods to the chopping site.
Eli kept searching for something out of place, something to indicate that Caroline Whitten was here. The place had an eerie quiet about it. The grass and trees were green and the air was fresh and invigorating, but he didn’t hear any birds or other sounds in the woods. It wasn’t an eerie quiet, he decided. It was a deathlike quiet.
They reached the site. A big dead tree had been felled and Michael and his sons, Daniel and David, were cutting it up with handsaws. Two mules hitched to a wagon waited nearby. Eli was introduced and Samuel left.
Eli helped load the cut wood until his arms ached and he was soaking with sweat. Finally the last piece of wood was on the wagon and they headed to the compound. Michael drove the mules and Eli walked behind with the boys. They had to be around fourteen and fifteen and were already sprouting beards.
“That’s a lot of wood,” Eli commented, trying to get information. “Does it last very long?”
“Not too long,” the older one, David, said. “We use it to cook.”
“And we need it for the wedding,” Daniel added.
“A wedding?”
“It’s going to be a big one. The prophet’s taking his seventh wife. It’s very important ’cause—”
“Daniel!” David exclaimed in a reprimanding tone.
The youth hung his head as he realized he’d misspoken.
“Hey, no problem,” Eli assured them. “The prophet helped me out when I needed it and I’d love to be at his wedding to show my support and appreciation. I don’t know much about your faith but I’m willing to learn.”
“My brother doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” David said, and the boys ran toward the compound.
Eli stopped. Daniel knew what he was talking about. Caroline Whitten was marked as wife number seven. She was here. But where?
Caroline, where are you?
CHAPTER TWO
ELI KEPT HIS EYES AND EARS open, but he didn’t detect any evidence of Caroline. Supper was in the eating area and the men ate at a crudely made table. The meal was vegetable soup, bread and goat’s milk. After the women waited on the men, they sat on the floor and ate with the children. He noticed that most of the women were blond and young, probably in their late teens or early twenties. Two appeared to be in their thirties, and an older woman, maybe forty, with grayish-blond hair, seemed to be in charge.
One woman caught his eye. She had dark hair and eyes and looked out of place among the blondes. He wondered how she fitted in here. The other women made her do most of the kitchen work, and they shouted orders at her as if she were a servant.
After supper, the men had a meeting, and Eli was introduced to them more fully. It was clear that Samuel was Amos’s right-hand man. Ezra and Peter took care of security, along with four Dobermans. Nathaniel and Michael were in charge of maintenance of the compound, which meant they supplied firewood, tended to the vegetable fields and the goats and chickens. Amos informed Eli that he’d be working with Michael, then he was dismissed with another warning to stay away from the women.
He looked around, but since it was dark he couldn’t see much. He listened at the door to Buford’s house, then gave up when he couldn’t make out any of the muffled voices. But they were making plans—plans for a wedding. He hurried away before the men came out.
Later the group met around the campfire and the dark-haired woman brought out an ornate chair for Buford. Everyone sat on the ground and Amos began to preach. He spoke of hell, damnation, sinners and salvation. It was hard for Eli to listen, but he stoically kept a rein on his emotions.
Afterward, the men hugged Buford and the women and children bowed at his feet. This was even harder to watch—how these women had been subdued into servitude, yet praised his name the whole time.
The men retired to their huts with their wives and children. Eli watched the dark-haired woman. She didn’t follow any of the men. Instead, she went to the kitchen area. His curiosity grew, but he didn’t want to cause any dissention that would get him kicked out of here—not until he knew where they were keeping Caroline.
Nathaniel brought him two old quilts, and Eli lay under the stars. The Dobermans guarded the compound and Ezra was out walking them around the fence. This was Eli’s opportunity to inspect the area.
He’d noticed the rickety barn earlier and now saw a corral for the mules. The chickens had gone to roost for the night and the goats were lying around the barn. He was careful not to disturb them.
From the light of the moon, Eli saw a wooden door on the ground not far from the back of Buford’s house. He crept forward to check it out. The door opened easily, but creaked loudly in the process. Waiting to make sure no one had heard, he investigated.
He followed steps down into a dark hole—a cellar of some kind. With his hands outstretched he felt walls of dirt braced with plywood. There were shelves filled with jars.
It was a vegetable cellar—the type used in olden days to store jars so they wouldn’t freeze in the winter and would stay cool in the summer. There was enough food here to last a year. And the cellar provided shelter from tornadoes and bad weather.
Eli wasn’t sure how the ceiling was supported, but it had to be braced with something. He kept searching with his hands, but all he felt was wood, jars and dirt. The FBI had already checked out the room. Had they missed something? He could see nothing in the darkness, and decided to return in daylight.
Climbing the steps, Eli closed the door carefully, making as little noise as possible. A makeshift shed was used for storing feed for the animals, and he made his way there.
He saw no trace of Caroline.
Eli hurried back to his pallet before Ezra returned, feeling his frustration mounting. He fell into a fitful sleep.
The cult’s morning ritual was much the same as the previous night’s. Everyone was up at five and the women served breakfast after Buford gave the blessing. The prophet preached again, then everyone went to work except Buford. He asked to see Eli in his quarters.
Eli followed him to the same room as yesterday. Peter waited outside at the door, with Ezra, who was tending to the dogs.
“Have a seat, my brother,” Amos said, sitting at a small table holding papers, books and a worn Bible. This furniture was not rough or crude. It had probably been brought in specially for Buford and his needs.
Eli did as instructed, wondering what this was about.
Amos folded his hands over the Bible. “You have been with us for a day and night. How do you like it here?”
“Very peaceful and quiet.”
And disturbing.
“Yes. We live close to God and the earth. But we have to build high fences to keep the bigots and naysayers out.”
And the law.
“You can have a home here, my brother, if you so choose.”
Eli rubbed his hands together, wanting to give the right answer. “I’m out of a job, my family doesn’t want anything to do with me and I’m one step away from jail. At this point, any refuge is welcome.”
“Just be aware your choice will be final.” The words held a warning. “Once you are accepted into our faith and its teachings, you will always belong and there will be no going back to your old way of life.”
And when people leave, you murder them.
“We will feed you, give you a home and nourish you mentally and spiritually. In return you will devote your life to me and my teachings.”
There it was. Buford thought he was God—accountable to no one but himself.
“What do you say, Elijah?” Buford asked. “That’s what you will be called here. We use only biblical names.”
“I really appreciate all you’ve done for me, but I’m still trying to get my bearings.” Eli chose his words with care.
“What better way than to start a new life, a new beginning?”
Eli hesitated, not wanting to seem too eager.
Buford leaned back. “I have a daughter turning fifteen in a month. If you join our faith, she will become your wife.”
Eli stared into his gray eyes and saw that Buford was absolutely serious. He felt sick.
“I already have a wife.”
“You will leave your old world behind and everything and everyone in it. I am the law here.”
“I see.”
“In our faith girls are promised for marriage when they turn fifteen, then they start to bear children to fulfill the promises in the Bible—to go forth and multiply and to serve their husband and to spread the word of the prophet.”
“Is it legal to marry a fifteen-year-old?”
Eli was stalling for time, to consider his responses.
“My brother, you have a lot to learn.” Buford gave a slight smile. “I told you there is no law here except mine. We are not bound by society or its absurd rules.”
Eli clenched his hands together. “I’m not questioning your judgment, sir, but I’m having a hard time with age fifteen. How about the dark-haired woman? She seems older.” He knew he could jeopardize the whole mission, but he felt this was a way to get information.
Buford’s face darkened. “Jezebel is sojourning with us. She is not a member of our faith—and never question anything I tell you. That is the first thing you learn here.”
“Yes, sir. I’m sorry. I’m just learning.”
He had to force the words out.
“Don’t let it happen again.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Since you’re new, I will be patient with you, Elijah. Let me explain something about our faith. Only pure-blood women are accepted as wives.”
Eli frowned. “Pure-blood.”
“Yes. Jezebel has dark eyes and hair and her bloodline is tainted by someone with a darker skin. That is not accepted in our faith.”
“I have dark hair.” It was the only thing Eli could say. He was learning Buford was more of a bigot than he’d ever imagined.
“But you have blue eyes, denoting your bloodline.”
“I see.” But he didn’t. All he saw was an evil man controlling a handful of people with his insane ideas.
There must have been something in his voice that Buford picked up on because he added, “Don’t worry about Jezebel, my brother. We found her wandering the streets in search of food, and we took her in and gave her a place to stay. We are not heartless. But Jezebel has no memory. She doesn’t even know her name, so we gave her one. She is happy being a servant to the wives and she asks for nothing else. When she is ready, she will leave and I will let her.”
Eli’s mind went into overdrive with this piece of information. He found comfort in knowing that the FBI would soon raid the compound. He would make sure they knew about Jezebel. Hopefully, they could help her—if Buford hadn’t totally brainwashed her into submission.
