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“Stop! That’s mine,” she cried, and the next thing he knew they were wrestling for it on the living room floor. She was stronger than he would’ve guessed, but she was trying to keep her doughnut from getting smashed so he pinned her quite easily.
As he was lying on top of her, breathing heavily from the exertion, he realized he should’ve quit while he was ahead. The sticky glaze that had flaked off during the fight was all over them. But that wasn’t the only problem. Fresh desire slammed into him, sending blood rushing to his groin. He’d let down his guard, and this was what came of it. “Well, now we know who can take whom,” he said.
She made a show of gulping down the rest of the doughnut. “You were worried I could take you?” she asked with her mouth full.
He was afraid she still might. But not in the way she meant. She seemed to have resigned herself to the fact that his feelings weren’t what hers were—or had been—so she was better able to ignore the chemistry between them. All that did was make her more appealing because she seemed less fragile.
“Not really.” He got up before she could notice that he wasn’t feeling so playful anymore.
“What’s our next step with the Covenanters?” She stood and dusted herself off.
“We go to a celebration there this evening.”
She looked up, frowning. “You know their celebrations sometimes turn into orgies.”
He shrugged. “An orgy’s got to beat a stoning.”
“What about your computer?”
“What about it?”
“If they’re the ones who took it, we could be in trouble. The browser history alone will prove we have more than a passing interest in Paradise.”
“Not necessarily. With the rumors flying around Portal and elsewhere in this part of the state, it’s conceivable that we were curious enough to look them up.”
“What about your work files? What if they get access to those?”
“That’s what has me worried,” he said.
16
That evening when Rachel rolled up to the gate at Paradise, she was riding in the passenger seat and she wasn’t thinking about the height of the fence or the razor wire. She had the missing girl from Portal on her mind. She couldn’t imagine that Ethan would socialize with locals if he’d kidnapped one. It would be far too easy to spot Courtney or pick up on some detail that would give away the fact that she was here. But the girl had to have gone somewhere. Maybe she was hiding in the compound of her own accord and didn’t want her parents to know. After all, this was the ultimate counterculture. Maybe joining a cult seemed like a great way to punish her folks for whatever she held against them—like giving birth to her or living in Portal.
The security personnel were far more respectful than the ones she’d encountered during her first visit. They spoke in somber tones, barely glanced at her and Nate’s IDs and waved them through without the undercarriage check. Bart himself came out to meet them after they’d parked at the big tent.
“Welcome back to Paradise,” he said the moment they stepped out.
Rachel exchanged a furtive look with Nate. Bartholomew’s words were clipped, but at least he was making an effort. “Thank you.”
“The Holy One is waiting for you in the dining hall. You’re invited to dine with church leaders before the celebration begins.”
Dinner sounded conventional enough, but knowing Ethan’s support for certain kinds of festivities, who could say what might follow?
Bart led them to the largest of the permanent buildings she’d first seen through Nate’s lens.
Nate put his arm around her as they climbed the steps and were shown into a room where Ethan sat at the head of a long table.
“The Holy One” turned immediately. “Ah, there you are,” he said, and got up to greet them by kissing them both on each cheek. “We’ve been looking forward to seeing you again. Please have a seat.”
There were twelve other men, most in their thirties or forties, around the table. They’d stood when Ethan had. Now they approached and embraced Ethan but not Rachel. As they turned to her, they bowed their heads, murmuring things like, “Your presence is a blessing” and “Thanks be to God, who sustains all life.”
When she finally reached the table, Ethan had her sit on one side of him and put Nate on the other. “Friends bring much joy to an otherwise unremarkable day,” he said. “Thank you for coming. Now, let us pray.”
He prayed with his eyes open and his hands lifted toward heaven. The others bowed their heads and repeated his words. Rachel sat quietly, waiting for the prayer to end. She felt Nate’s eyes on her but refused to look directly at him.
The meal consisted of marinated steak shish kebabs and rice. She enjoyed the food but felt the others were paying her too much attention. Every time she looked up, she found one or another studying her curiously. Except for Bartholomew. Seated at the far end, he kept his gaze anchored to his plate. Was that because she was the only woman in the room? Was it unusual for Ethan to dine with a woman? Or was the problem that she was also an outsider?
She didn’t know, but she felt as if she’d dropped through the rabbit hole in Alice in Wonderland. Here, anything could happen.
When Nate and Ethan began discussing the school and the other improvement projects Ethan had planned, Rachel started to feel more comfortable. But that didn’t last. Soon Ethan was probing for information about them.
“So how long have you been married?” he asked.
Nate answered as smoothly as if he was telling the truth. “Almost three and a half years.”
“Those first few years can be rough.”
“If you don’t get along.” Nate took another bite of his food and talked through it. Rachel knew his manners were better than that, but he was playing up the blue-collar aspect of his character. “We haven’t had any problems, have we, honey?”
“None,” she confirmed.
Ethan grinned at her, implying he knew something she didn’t, which bothered Rachel, but she resisted the temptation to try to convince him about her fake marriage. It was preferable to let Nate handle the web of lies this conversation demanded. She wasn’t sure what Ethan and Nate had discussed when Nate came here on his own. Why risk contradicting him?
“Yours is a match made in heaven, then,” Ethan said.
“More or less,” Nate murmured.
“Where did you meet?” It was Bart who asked.
