Deceived: Lured from the Truth (Secrets) (14 page)

“Except during summer,” Bethany clarifies. “We don’t have school again until September.”

“So we work full days,” Lydia fills in.

“Well, I suppose it’s still nice to have a break from the books.” I almost admit to them that it’s summer vacation for me too, but I don’t want to even hint that I’m still in high school.

“Rachel is going to help with the cooking,” Eleanor tells them.

“I hope to lighten Eleanor’s load.”

Bethany and Lydia seem to appreciate this as they return to the dishes, and I suspect they’ve been on the receiving end of Eleanor’s bad moods from time to time.

“I have a couple other helpers too,” Eleanor explains. “Marsha comes in at ten and works until eight. And Hannah is in charge of the chickens and the garden, and sometimes she helps out in the kitchen too.”

“You have a garden?”

Eleanor nods as she picks up a clipboard, looking at what appears to be the week’s menus. “And a greenhouse too. Our goal is to become completely self-sufficient for our food. No small task when you consider how many mouths we have to feed ’round here. Even so, we’re getting close. There are only a few items I have to purchase from the outside world — ingredients like soda and salt and yeast. But I try to keep stocked up on those things.”

She hangs the menu clipboard back on a nail. “Why don’t you go out to the garden and tell Hannah that I need some onions for lunch.”

“How many and what kind?”

Her brow creases. “Four or five white ones.”

“Where’s the garden?”

She points to the back door. “Go out there and follow the gravel trail. You’ll find it. And take that compost bucket with you.”

The gravel trail is bordered by a tall hedge and leads me for about fifty feet before it opens up into an enormous lush garden with tall wire fences around it. And there’s a large greenhouse off to one side. I go through a gate into the garden and soon spot a brunette girl wearing a lilac-colored dress and wielding a hoe.

“Hello,” I call to her. “Eleanor sent me out to get some onions.”

“Hello.” She comes over with a curious expression. “Who are you?”

I introduce myself and she tells me her name.

“Your garden is beautiful, Hannah.”

She shakes her head. “No, it’s not my garden.”

“Well, you’re the gardener and you must be doing a pretty good job because it’s truly lovely.”

She looks down at her bare feet and mumbles, “Thank you.”

I hold up the bucket of smelly compost garbage. “Eleanor asked me to bring this to you.”

She removes the bucket from my hand. “That goes over here. Do you want to see the compost pile?”

“Sure.” I follow her over to what looks like a wooden pen full of dark brown dirt. It smells a little ripe but looks like rich soil. She tosses the contents of the bucket onto it and then rakes it through. “I also raise worms.” She grins at me. “Some people are creeped out by that, but I think it’s cool.”

“How long have you been gardening?” I actually want to know how long she’s been here but am worried that it’s rude to ask.

“I’ve always wanted to grow things. But I’ve only been the gardener here for a couple of years.” She leans the rake against a post and studies me. “I’d just turned eighteen when I first came here, but I didn’t get to work in the garden that first summer. I had to prove myself worthy.” Her lips curve into a partial smile. “But now I’m the head gardener and I have girls working for me.”

I explain that I’ll be helping Eleanor in the kitchen. “She seems a little overworked to me.”

Hannah nods. “She is. That’s great that you want to help cook.” Now she frowns. “Just be careful.”

“Careful?”

Hannah presses her lips together, almost as if she regrets her words.

“You mean of Eleanor’s feelings?”

“Yes.” She nods eagerly. “You wouldn’t want to step on her toes.”

“Right.”

“The onions are over here.” She leads me over to what looks like a garden shed. “I store root vegetables and onions and things in here.” She opens the door and we go into a cool, dark area that smells of hay and vegetables. “How many do you need?”

After I’ve got the onions, she gives me a quick tour of the garden. I’m impressed with all the variety — everything from berries to kale. “So many great choices. This is like a chef’s paradise.”

“Yes … you’d think.”

Now I remember the bland menu. “But Eleanor doesn’t really utilize all these great foods, does she?”

Hannah’s eyes light up. “Not like I wish she would. But maybe you can help her to try some new things.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” I promise as we walk back to the gate.

“The chicken yard is right over there,” she says.

“I thought I heard them.” I peer over a wooden fence to see a large henhouse and a bunch of colorful-looking chickens scratching in the dirt.

“I have — I mean, we have Plymouth Rocks and Leghorns and Rhode Island Reds and Barred Rocks and Light Sussex.” She holds up her hands. “And I’m probably forgetting someone.”

“Sounds like you know your chickens.”

Her smile comes more easily now. “I do. I’ve even given some of the best brooders names.”

“Well, as interesting as this is, I should get back to the kitchen.”

“Nice meeting you,” she calls.

“You too,” I call back. I really like Hannah. She seems real and down to earth. Okay, she’s obviously very down to earth. But she seems like someone I could get to know better. Someone I’d like to know better.

“I got the tour of the garden and the chicken yard,” I tell Eleanor as I go inside. “That’s quite an operation. Something many cooks would dream of having.”

“Yes, I suppose so.” She pauses from measuring flour. “You can chop up those onions for me. I want real small pieces. Minced, if you know what I mean. The knives are over there by the stove.”

I select a good-looking chef’s knife, and before long I am chopping and blinking back tears. I dump the finely chopped onions into a bowl and take them to Eleanor. Glancing at the clock, I remember my appointment with Celeste. “I’ll have to go for a bit just before ten,” I tell her.

“What?” She turns and glares at me. “You’ve barely just got here and now you’re running off? What for?”

So I explain about Celeste and she simply nods. “Well, of course. I wouldn’t want you to miss that. When do you expect to be back?”

“I have no idea, but I can tell her that you’re busy and that I need to — ”

“No, no, don’t do that. Just come back as soon as you’re done. Hopefully you’ll be of some use before lunch. We serve at twelve thirty.”

“Yes, I’m sure I’ll be back long before that. In the meantime what would you like me to do?”

She assigns me some more prepping tasks, and I do them all cheerfully and as quickly as my hands will safely move. But finally it’s nearly ten and I’m washing my hands, trying to rid myself of the onion smell. I excuse myself, hang my apron on the peg by the door, and hurry on my way.

As I walk toward the big house where Jim and Celeste live, I smooth my hair, wishing that I had a mirror to check myself in, but no one probably cares what I look like. Well, except that Reverend Jim thought my dress was ugly last night. To be fair, it is ugly. But even so, I feel a bit confused. First Miriam tells me that appearances don’t matter and then Reverend Jim seems to think they do. Which is it?

Feeling a bit nervous, I go up to the large front door and ring the doorbell, biting my lip as I wait. A pretty young woman with strawberry-blonde hair opens the door. “You must be Rachel,” she says brightly. “I’m Kellie.”

Now I know that Jim and Celeste have children because I’ve seen them at church services, but so far I haven’t quite figured out their names and ages. “Are you one of the Davis kids?” I ask as she leads me inside.

She giggles. “No. And don’t let Celeste hear you saying that.” She lowers her voice. “She’s not really old enough to be my mom.”

“Sorry.” I glance around the large foyer and am surprised to see that it’s actually quite elegant. Unlike the more rustic exterior, this space has marble floors and a large antique-looking table with a big crystal vase of fresh flowers — with a mirror behind it. A real mirror. I try not to spy my own image, which I know must look pretty frowsy. “This is really pretty.”

Kellie just nods, leading me past a curving staircase and down a hallway. “Celeste is back here.” She pauses by a closed door, then taps lightly. “Rachel is here to see you.”

“Come in,” Celeste calls.

Kellie opens the door, motioning for me to go into what looks like a small living room. Like the foyer, this room looks elegant too. With hardwood floors, oriental carpets, and pretty furnishings, I feel caught off guard, like the interior of this house doesn’t match the exterior. Maybe this is how Alice felt on the other side of the looking glass.

“You have a beautiful home,” I tell Celeste as I go over to where she’s sitting at a desk in front of a window that overlooks a beautifully landscaped backyard with a tall rock wall surrounding it.

“Thank you.” She turns and smiles at me. “Because you are Josiah’s special friend, I feel comfortable having you here. But you need to understand that not everyone here enjoys this privilege.”

I nod, standing there and feeling homelier than ever in the presence of so much beauty. There are paintings on the wall, mostly landscapes, although one is a portrait of Celeste wearing a beautiful sky-blue gown with a surprisingly low-cut bodice.

“I can see you’re shocked by how we live,” she says in a weary tone.

“No, not shocked exactly … I’m just trying to take it all in.”

“Well, as you must know by now, Jim is God’s chosen prophet and God has also chosen to bless us.” She waves her hand. “Far more than we ever expected. But then who are we to question God’s blessings? He owns the cattle on a thousand hills. Why should he not give us whatever he pleases?” She smiles. “And for that we are truly grateful.”

“Yes …” I don’t know what to say, what to do, how to act.

“I’m sorry, please sit down, Rachel. I don’t know why I’m rambling like this.” She gets up from where she’s sitting, moves to the sofa, and pats a spot next to her. “Sit, please.”

I sit beside her, folding my hands in my lap. “Thank you for inviting me into your home.”

“Yes, as I was saying, because of your relationship to Josiah, who is like a son to us, it seems only fitting that we bring you into our inner circle too. Josiah has assured us that we can trust you with our friendship.”

“Of course. I have the utmost respect for you and Reverend Jim. And I’m so thankful you’ve welcomed me.” It’s funny when I talk like this; it feels like I’m someone else or playing a part in a movie.

Kellie returns with a tray. “Here’s your tea,” she tells Celeste and sets the tray on the table in front of the sofa. “Anything else?”

“No. Thank you, Kellie.”

After she leaves and closes the door, Celeste pours us both a cup of tea, handing one to me. “Now, I realize you thought I was going to talk to you about your wardrobe, and we’ll get to that. But first I wish to speak to you about Josiah. Both Jim and I can see he is attracted to you. And that you share the same feelings.” She peers over her cup at me. “Am I correct?”

I feel my cheeks warming but simply nod.

“And that’s not a problem. Because Josiah is our nephew, he is allowed some special privileges. For instance, if he chooses to marry, Jim will provide him with a home.” She waves her hand. “Of course, it won’t be as fine as this, but it will be suitable for a young couple.”

I take a quick sip of tea, feeling it scalding my throat, and try not to cough and sputter as I set the teacup back into the saucer. Is she suggesting Josiah and I should get married?

“I can tell by your reaction that you’re not ready for this, Rachel. But you need to understand that it’s more honorable to marry than to burn.”

“What?”

“It’s more honorable to marry than to burn.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

She smiles in a tolerant way. “We prefer that couples — certain couples who have obtained the blessing of the prophet — marry rather than be tempted to commit fornication. Now do you understand?”

While fornication isn’t a part of my normal vocabulary, I do know the meaning. “But I would never consider having sex outside of marriage. I’ve even signed a purity pledge.”

She looks relieved. “I told Jim you were a good girl. But as he pointed out, even a good girl can lose her way. He asked me to speak to you directly on this.”

“But I wouldn’t — ”

“No matter.” She waves her hand again. “I think I’ve made myself perfectly clear. Now let’s talk about your wardrobe needs.” She places a forefinger on her chin, then frowns at my dress. “Jim was right. That dress is appallingly ugly.”

She stands. “Come with me.” She leads me over to another door that goes directly into a very feminine-looking bedroom. “I realize you’re more slender than I am, but we’re about the same height. And if you’re handy with a needle, I’m sure you can do some alterations.”

“Yes, that’s no problem.”

“Good.” She opens another door and flips on a switch that illuminates a spacious walk-in closet. “Come on in here and we’ll see what we can find.”

I try not to gape at the surprisingly large space, but I think it’s nearly as big as the cabin I’m sharing with Miriam.

“Here.” She hands me a floral print dress. “This is a little too young for me.” Now she hands me a robin’s egg blue dress with lace trim around the collar. “And this one too.” Before long I have six or seven dresses in my arms. Fortunately some of them are less fancy and seem suitable for working in a kitchen. She even gives me a couple of belts so I can cinch in the dresses to fit better until I have a chance to alter them.

“I’m sure this is more than enough,” I tell her. “Thank you so much.”

“Yes. I suppose we shouldn’t overdo it.” She reaches for what looks like an overnight bag. It’s made of pastel tapestry, and judging by the designer name, I suspect it was expensive. “Let’s pack them in this so you don’t have to traipse across the grounds with an armload of dresses.”

I thank her again.

“You’re very welcome. Consider yourself part of our family, Rachel.”