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The juices left in the Instant Pot were still hot and she carried it to the back door and slipped outside to dump it in the garbage can before the fats inside congealed and she’d have to scrape it out. Her garbage can was behind her garage on a cement pad, where she didn’t have to look at it from the house.
Setting the pot on the cement pad, she lifted the lid on her garbage can then moved a paper bag she’d thrown away yesterday to the top and opened it up. She lifted the pot and poured the hot liquid into the bag.
Setting it down again, she rolled the bag closed and closed the lid.
As she headed back to the house, a cloth covered her head. She swung the pot but failed to connect to anyone. It clattered to the ground. A gigantic hand covered her mouth. She was lifted, kicking and screaming, and carried to a vehicle. She stiffened so they couldn’t put her inside. They punched her in the stomach, and she doubled over. They tossed her inside. Something wet covered her mouth and nose and she lost consciousness.
* * *
Lara sat tied in a chair,the bag or hood still over her head. She could hear someone walking around on a wooden floor, so she assumed she was in a house. She didn’t remember the drive to wherever she was.
A door creaked and heavier footsteps entered the house. They stopped in front of her. She held her breath but didn’t move or say anything. The footsteps moved away from her and she let her breathing continue. She could see some shadows as they moved past a window. The light footsteps were of a woman based on the flowing dress as she moved.
“She say anything?”
“No, sir.”
“Good. Say nothing to her.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Have her readied for the wedding at six tonight. We’ll wed as the sun begins to set.”
“Yes, sir.”
The heavy footsteps passed by her without stopping and her heartbeat raced as the words whirred through her head. Wedding. We’ll wed. He couldn’t mean he was to marry her. She wouldn’t do it. She wouldn’t say vows to another man. Certainly not someone she didn’t know.
She swallowed and tried taking steady breaths. Her stomach roiled, and she worried she’d vomit. How many times today had she felt that way?
The woman shuffled toward her and stopped in front of her. Her voice was soft when she said, “I’m taking the hood off now.”
Her hands were gentle as she lifted the hood from the bottom and held it away from her nose and mouth as she gently lifted it from her head.
“It’ll be easier to breathe now.”
She shuffled over to the counter where she’d been working and brought over a pestle and mortice and looked at her face. “The ether gave you a tiny rash. I’ll put the poultice of aloe vera and oatmeal on to help you heal. I’ve added a bit of honey to make it stick.”
She dipped her finger into the bowl and scooped out a small amount of the poultice. Moving toward Lara, she winced. “It won’t hurt. I’ve used this on my children.”
Lara looked into her eyes. They were old eyes, faded blue. The lines around her eyes and mouth spoke of age, of a woman who’d lived a hard life and had seen her better years pass by. Lara guessed her to be in her seventies.
“Why am I here?”
“You heard Everett. He’s marrying you tonight.”
“No. I won’t marry him.”
The older woman grinned. “You will.”
“No, I won’t.”
The woman stopped spreading the poultice on her face and grinned at her. “If you don’t marry Everett, he’ll kill your man.”
“My man.” Her breathing quickened. “You mean Tate?”
The older woman nodded.
“But why?”
