Summer of the Redeemers

by Carolyn Haines

  At Kali Oka, I loosened the reins and let her go.

  “Run, Cammie, run!” I whispered. “Run free.” Nadine had once told me that a horse’s only defense was flight. We were fleeing, both of us. Only this time I wasn’t running away.

  We went down toward the Redeemers because the road was less traveled, and I wasn’t certain how much control I’d have over Cammie for the first half hour or so. She was too nervous to listen to any of my aids. She simply had to move for a while, and I did my best to sit on her back without interfering. I would have put her in the pasture, but I wasn’t certain I could catch her again before Nadine returned, and I was determined to take her with me.

  If Nadine wanted to punish me, she could find a way that didn’t involve Cammie. I had to get Cammie away from Nadine. When we pulled up to a halt at the bridge at Cry Baby Creek, I wasn’t prepared to find Magdeline standing just on the other bank. There wasn’t another Redeemer in sight.

  We stared at each other. Between my legs Cammie blew and trembled. I knew better than to try to force the issue of the bridge, so I turned her toward the bank of the creek. With very little reluctance she stepped into the water. I let her have a small drink, then urged her to the other side. When we climbed over the lip of the bank, Magdeline was still there, watching us.

  “I can help you,” I said. I was as breathy and trembly as Cammie.

  Magdeline only stared at us. I thought for a moment that they might have cut out her tongue.

  “Magdeline, I can help.”

  “Where’s Greg?” she answered. There was no expression on her face.

  “He’s okay.” I tried to reassure her. She looked wild.

  “He hasn’t been here for weeks. Rachel said you and that woman with the horses had him. She said you’d turned him to the ways of sin.”

  She didn’t smile, not even a hint. This wasn’t the same girl who’d pointed the finger of fornication at Rev. Marcus. Magdeline had changed in ways that I couldn’t begin to define. Her … personality was missing.

  “Do you have him down there?” she asked as if she hadn’t heard what I said. “Tell him he has to come back here.” Desperation finally cracked the shell of her cold mask. “Tell him. Please!”

  “Greg was badly injured, but he’s fine now. Magdeline, I can help you. Me and my family.”

  “Where did he go?” A tear slipped down her face.

  “Come with me, Magdeline. Come to my house. My grandmother will help you.”

  “Greg promised me that he wouldn’t leave me. He swore it.” She turned to look back at the church. “I can’t pretend much longer.” She spoke more to herself than to me.

  “Are his … parents still looking for him?” I didn’t really know where he was staying.

  Something changed in her face. “Maybe they wouldn’t tell me.” She looked up at me, as if she might be able to see the truth sitting on the end of my nose. “Maybe they would keep it a secret. To scare the rest of us. To say that Greg had gone off, fallen away. They said he would be punished in a terrible way.” She spoke faster as her eyes searched my face. “I’ll hunt for him here.”

  “He must be around. I saw him last night. I know he’s at Nadine’s part of the time.”

  “I’ve seen him, too, but I can’t talk to him,” she whispered. She sidled toward me, completely unafraid of the horse. “I see him at night sometimes. Always at a distance. He’s with a girl. I thought it was you. She has on a white dress. They stand by the creek together.”

  I could barely talk. “Are you sure? I mean, are you sure it’s Greg?”

  She shook her head, and her beautiful hair shimmered down her back. “They’re faraway. At a distance. And”—two tears leaked from the corners of her eyes—”they touch each other. Like lovers.”

  “Magdeline, come with me now.” She wasn’t right somehow. The things she was saying were mixed up. If she was describing what I thought she was describing, it would be Greg and Selena. But Selena was a ghost. None of it made sense, but I knew it was important to get her to come with me. Mama Betts would find someone to help straighten it all out.

  “If you see Greg,” she put her hand on Cammie’s shoulder, “tell him that I’m pregnant. He promised not to leave me. Will you tell him?” Tears dripped off her chin, but she didn’t seem to notice.

  “Yes, I’ll tell him.” My voice was little more than a whisper. “I’ll tell him. I’ll even look for him just to tell him.”

  Her hand drifted to my knee. “Greg said you lived in a beautiful world. He said it was a dream.”

  “Magdeline, let me help you. Greg must have told you that I wanted to help. Get up here with me, and we’ll ride to my house. My grandmother is smart. She’ll know what to do.” I was begging her. If Greg was at the Redeemers, he wouldn’t let her suffer so. If Greg wasn’t there, Magdeline had no one to protect her. And her baby.

  I reached my hand down to her as I shook my foot free of the stirrup. “Put your foot in the stirrup, and I’ll pull you up.” Cammie stood steady as a rock.

  Her fingers closed on mine. They were cold and soft, without any real strength, and I had the craziest sensation that she was already dead.

  “Hey!”

  We both turned to look at the tall, gaunt figure of John Singer striding toward us. Cammie danced backward and Magdeline shook her hand free of mine.

  “You’re on Redeemer land now,” he called as he rushed toward us. “This time you’re going to pay.”

  “Where’s Greg?” I asked him, doing my best to hold Cammie still. “Come on, Magdeline,” I whispered. She stood about four feet from me, frozen.

  “You’ve made your last bit of trouble.” John Singer reached for the reins, and I let Cammie step away from his hand.

  “I want to talk to Rev. Marcus,” I told him.

  John Singer smiled. “Get down off that horse, and we’ll take you to him.”

  “I’ll wait here. Tell him I have a message for him.”

  Magdeline was looking at me like I’d gone mad. Singer’s eyes shifted from me to her, calculating. “I’ll get the reverend,” he finally agreed. “Just you wait here.” Very quickly his hand darted out and grabbed Magdeline by the arm. While she was off balance, he dragged her toward him. She made no effort to resist, not even when he shook her arm fiercely. “You can’t seem to learn, girl,” he said as he pushed her roughly ahead of him. “What did you tell her?”

  “Hey! Leave her here.” I nudged Cammie forward a step or two.

  Singer looked over his shoulder at me, then turned Magdeline to face me. “Tell her you want to stay here.” He paused, then shook her. “Tell her.”

  “I have responsibilities in the church,” she said, looking beyond me at the far bank of the creek. “I can’t talk anymore. I’m neglecting my duties.” She turned away voluntarily, preceding Singer down the path toward the church.

  The look he gave me was filled with satisfaction. He turned and stalked after her, circling his fingers around her arm.

  I remembered something. “Maggie!” I called her name loudly. Even in Singer’s tight grip she turned back to look at me. “I won’t leave you here. I swear it.”

  Singer thrust her forward, and they disappeared behind a clump of pines and elderberry bushes.

  I didn’t have long to wait before Rev. Marcus came through the clearing. The sun crested in the wave of his Bryllcreemed hair. His clothes were crisp, expensive, and they hung on his body to show the leanness of his waist and hips. In contrast to the other Redeemers, his shoes gleamed with polish. To my surprise, he was alone.

  “You have a message for me?” he asked.

  His blue eyes looked up at me with nothing more than mild curiosity. He was a damn fine actor.

  “Nadine Andrews wants to see you.”

  “The woman with the horses?” There was no recognition in his voice or face, only a mild and contemptuous interest.

  “Yeah, that’s her.”

  “Tell her to come down here. I’ll
be glad to talk with her. I have an interest in a young boy she’s … sheltering.” His lip curled on the word.

  “You nearly killed Greg. If it hadn’t been for Nadine, he might have died.”

  “The Bible states clearly that to spare the rod will ruin the child. His back will heal. It’s his soul that I’m concerned about. Mrs. Andrews,” he almost sneered the words, “may have condemned the boy to hell. I suspect the three of you will spend eternity roasting in the flames.” His gaze fell on my leg. “I can redeem you, though. You’re young. You aren’t hardened in the ways of sin. I could work with you—”

  “What kind of punishment do you get for selling babies?” My legs tightened involuntarily on Cammie’s sides. She backed up, her body tensing beneath me.

  His eyes narrowed. “You tell Greg to get his butt back here. Whatever he’s been telling you, he’s going to pay for. And you, you’ll pay for interfering here. You’ve snooped and pried since the day we moved here. God’s going to punish you with a mighty blow. He is a just God and a righteous God. He protects his flock.”

  I tickled Cammie’s sides, and she lunged forward. The preacherman broke off his tirade and fell back. “It won’t be God but the sheriff who comes after you,” I promised him.

  “We have broken no laws here. The First Amendment guarantees our right to religious freedom. We have learned that there is nothing in this world but blood and redemption.” He spread his hands out, palms up and looked toward the heavens. Peace and compassion spread across his features. “Upon the cross the Lord Jesus gave his life, his very flesh and blood, for us. That sacrifice bathes us all in his blood and allows us the choice of eternal redemption. I offer you that choice, Rebekah.” He brought his gaze down to rest on me. “Yes, I know your given name, and a good one it is. Rebekah, a woman of the Bible. You could be a lovely servant of God. You’re a warrior, Rebekah. Fierce, courageous. I like that, a bit of spirit in a young woman. I would welcome you into our flock. I have need of someone like you. A special place beside me. Exalted, esteemed. I had hoped that Magdeline might earn that place, but she is too weak.” He lifted an eyebrow. “But you are strong, Rebekah. Everyone would recognize your special destiny, and they would worship you. You have a choice today, damnation or redemption. What will it be?”

  Nadine had prepared me for the preacherman’s tricks. That gave me courage, and I wasn’t afraid, not for myself. He could never catch me on Cammie. “If anything happens to Maggie, you’ll go to prison for the rest of your life.”

  “That isn’t the right choice.” He shook his head sadly. “You will suffer as all sinners suffer. What is it you love? What things do you cherish the most? Those are the things God will take away from you. One by one. And the agony for you will be knowing that you brought it on yourself. Everything you love will suffer because of you.”

  “It’s you who’s going to suffer. When my father gets home—”

  He smiled. “I have suffered, and I am redeemed. My suffering is past.”

  “Let Maggie come with me.”

  “She has no desire to leave with you. She is loved here, cared for. We’ll make sure that she is protected.”

  “And her baby? What will happen to her child?” I hurled my knowledge at him. “What will happen to the child you fathered with Magdeline?”

  Surprise touched his features, but he erased it in a moment. “A child,” he murmured the words. “I’ll provide a decent and loving home. That is what we do here. We find homes for children.”

  “You sell them.”

  He looked at me, an appraising glance. The warmth and compassion that had softened his face as he looked toward heaven was gone. He was thinking of something mean and terrible. It flickered behind his eyes. “God is preparing a special punishment for you. Very special. He will smite you to the ground and crush your bones beneath his heel.”

  I turned Cammie, ready to run. At the thicket of pines I saw a motion. Two Redeemer men were struggling with something in the underbrush. When I heard the yelp of fear and pain, I knew they had Picket.

  Thirty-five

  CAMMIE bolted forward and then shied right. I lost my stirrup and felt myself sliding down her neck. My fingers clutched mane, and I managed to stay on top of the spinning horse. When I looked at the preacherman, he was grinning. “I told you God was going to take away the things you loved.”

  “Let my dog go.”

  “We have a right to dispose of any animals that trespass on our land. The dog is vicious. She has to be destroyed.” He looked from me to the two Redeemers, and Picket yelped again. They were holding her down, one with his foot on her neck while the other tied her legs together.

  “Stop it!” I tried to make Cammie go to Picket, but the thrashing and commotion frightened her. She shied and tried to bolt.

  “Picket!” I screamed her name. “Picket!”

  I dug my heels into Cammie’s side and she shot forward, covering the ground between me and the two Redeemers in three strides. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but when I saw the Redeemer lift the large knife in the air, I hauled back on the reins.

  Cammie skidded to a halt, trembling.

  I couldn’t stop looking at the knife. It was at least nine inches long, a steel blade that glittered in the sun. I thought of Caesar. Stabbed over thirty times. The Redeemer who held the knife grasped Picket’s tied mouth and lifted her head, exposing her throat.

  “Let her go,” I whispered.

  “Get off our property.” Rev. Marcus had walked up closer to the horse. “If you ever come here again, we’ll be the ones who call the sheriff. The damage you’ve done is irreparable. Greg is gone. Magdeline will be punished. We’ll do whatever it takes to cleanse her.”

  “What about Picket?”

  “We don’t allow pets. Poor Magdeline found a stray cat this summer. It had to be destroyed. It was very upsetting for her. I told her it didn’t have a soul, but she insisted on burying it. Quite a little drama. Now get off our property.”

  “Let me have my dog.” I couldn’t leave Picket. I remembered the day Magdeline and Georgie had buried the cat. They were both crying. And the preacherman would kill Picket too. In cold blood. Just to be mean. “Let her go and we’ll leave. Forever.”

  He nodded to the two men. As they picked Picket up by her legs, swinging upside down, he laughed. “Go home, Rebekah. Maybe your dog will come later. Maybe not.”

  He walked away from me, following the men who had my dog, back toward the church.

  “Wait a minute,” I called after him. “Wait!”

  He kept walking, a casual, not hurried walk that told me he’d never turn around.

  I turned Cammie toward the creek and we crossed. On Kali Oka, I held her to a trot. She’d spent most of her nervous energy, and she settled down to a pace that covered the ground. I went straight back to Nadine’s. No matter what had happened between us. No matter how much she hated me, she had to help Picket. Nadine would go in there blasting. The Redeemers had killed Caesar. I was certain of it. I’d seen the knife, a hunting blade capable of such terrible wounds.

  Nadine’s truck was parked in the driveway. I rode Cammie into the barn and put her in an unused stall at the end. I left the saddle on her but pulled off the bridle so she wouldn’t accidentally step on the reins. I’d give her water when I found Nadine.

  I ran to the house, not bothering to knock. Whatever was in my way, I jumped over it.

  “Nadine!” I called her name as loud as I could. “Nadine! Help me.”

  I went through the house twice before I accepted that she wasn’t there.

  The barn.

  I hurried outside, running hard. The barn door was wide open, as I’d left it. I ran into the shadowy depths and blinked while my eyes adjusted. The barn was silent except for the noises of the horses. There was no sign of Nadine.

  I checked the tack room and the feed room.

  “Nadine?” I called her name.

  Up above me in the loft, there was the sound o
f scurrying, small noises that sounded as if someone was trying not to laugh.

  “Nadine?” I went to the ladder and called. “Are you up there?”

  Silence.

  Had I ever climbed into the loft and found anything I wanted to see? I put one hand on a rung and slowly pulled myself up. My head cleared the loft floor, and for a moment I was dazzled by the shafts of light coming in from the hay door, which Nadine never allowed open unless a load was being delivered. Then I saw her.

  She was a silhouette, her hair tumbling down about her shoulders, her naked breasts revealed by the intense backlight. She was sitting on something, moving slowly forward and back, her profile clear and tilted up, reverent. She put her arms behind her neck, lifting her hair and letting it fall through her fingers. Sweat glistened on her face and breasts and torso. She was dancing, slow and sexy, to some music I couldn’t hear.

  It took me a moment longer to notice the pale naked legs of the man she was astride.

  “Hush!” she whispered, giggling. “She won’t come up here. She’s terrified of the loft. Just be quiet and she’ll go away.”

  “Nadine—”

  His protest was cut short as she leaned over him and let her hair drape in his face. She pushed back suddenly, and he groaned.

  “Forget her,” Nadine whispered. “Say it, Greg.” She increased the tempo of her movements. “Say it!”

  “I love you,” Greg whispered. His hands reached up and tangled in her hair. He lifted it off her back and let it fall through his fingers, and the sun turned it into spun gold.

  The only thing I could think about was Charlie and Earnest, and how I’d watched them feed from Nadine’s mouth. I was unable to look away even when I didn’t want to see.

  Nadine bent over Greg, pushing a breast into his mouth. The golden sun furrowed her spine, splitting her down the center in soft white hills.

  My feet felt below me until they touched the next rung. My body descended, but my gaze clung to them until I dropped below the loft floor. When I touched the ground I found Cammie’s bridle. The sweat had dried on her, crusting her hair into little tufts. She took the bit eagerly, and I led her into the yard before I mounted. When I was clear of the gate and walking down the drive, I looked back. Nadine’s body whipped back and forth in the sun, much faster than before, her hair a wild dandelion riding the action of her hips.