Eric spotted them and moved farther into the pew, beckoning them to join him.
“Did you rest well?” he whispered as she stepped in beside him. He handed her an open hymnal.
“Someone locked me in,” she hissed, “and I didn’t appreciate it.”
He frowned. “You must be mistaken.”
“Humph.” Jennie didn’t know whether to believe him or not.
He turned his attention to the hymnal and began to sing along with the group. Training and familiarity with the songs moved Jennie to sing. She entered into the worship like she might have at home. She had a lot to talk to God about.
When the service ended at five, Jennie asked Eric about her grandmother. “Marilee acted like they hadn’t found her. Did they? Do you know?”
“Take it easy, Jennie. You need to trust God in this.”
“I do. I just want to know what happened.”
“You will. I’ll take you to Donovan right now.”
“Good.” Jennie’s heart hammered in anticipation. Finally she’d be meeting the man in charge. She’d get some answers. So why did the idea of meeting him frighten her?
Eric escorted Jennie out of the great room and across the grounds into another building-a smaller one resembling a private home. As with the others, this building was also white stucco with a red roof. Just above the door hung a small wooden cross.
They stepped into a tiled entry. Beyond it, Jennie could see the hardwood floors and beige area rugs. When she started toward the living room, Eric held her back. With his free hand he pulled a cord, and a gong sounded.
“You can’t just walk in,” he explained. “Donovan may be in a private session.”
“Welcome, dears.” An elderly woman with stooped shoulders stepped into view. Her gray gaze moved from Eric to Jennie. “You must be Jennie.”
“Yes … I—”
“Come in. Come in.” Her warm smile put Jennie at ease. “Donovan is expecting you.”
“This is Lois.” Eric gave the woman a hug. “She’s been here for over sixty years.”
“Seventy.” Her eyes sparkled. “I was born here. My grandfather was one of the founders.”
Jennie felt enormous next to the tiny woman.
“Wow. You must like it here.”
“Yes.”
Was it Jennie’s imagination, or had some of the sparkle gone out of the woman’s eyes? “I’d like to hear about how you came to be here and how all this got started.”
Lois seemed pleased. “Then you must come and have tea with me. Perhaps tomorrow. Eric can show you to my room.”
“Do you stay here?”
“Oh no, dear. I’m in the women’s dorm.” She turned and started walking into the living room. Seated on the couch in front of the fireplace were two of the three men Jennie had seen that morning—Stan and Daniel. Reading their expressions of pity sent Jennie’s heart skittering into a black hole.
Somewhere in the distance she heard her name.
A man wearing a loose-fitting white shirt and khaki pants took her hands. “Welcome to our humble community.”
Jennie tore her gaze from the men on the sofa to focus on Donovan. She recognized him as the spokesperson she’d seen on the television interview. He was shorter than she’d expected. Stocky, tan, with coffee brown hair and eyes that seemed to change color even as he watched her. Gray, green, blue.
“I’m sorry it has to be under such tragic circumstances,” Donovan went on.
“Tragic…” Her voice trailed off. She bit her lip and took a deep breath. “Did you find my grandmother? Is she—?”
“Perhaps it would be best if we spoke privately.” He nodded a dismissal at the men and Eric.
“Wait!” Jennie grabbed hold of Eric’s shirt. “I want Eric to stay.”
“Very well.” To the men he said, “We’ll continue our discussion in the morning.”
When they left, Donovan gestured for Jennie to sit down. Lois came into the room with a pitcher of juice and glasses. She poured a glass for each of them. Donovan and Eric picked theirs up. Donovan handed the remaining glass to Jennie. She shook her head.
“Please. I want to know about my grandmother. Why can’t you just tell me?”
“As you wish.” He took a long drink and set his glass on the table. “Stan, Daniel, and Craig found the wreckage.”
“And Gram …?” Jennie braced herself, not wanting to hear the news they seemed so reluctant to give, yet needing to.
“She wasn’t there.”
6
“What?” Jennie didn’t know what she’d expected, but it wasn’t this. “What do you mean she wasn’t there?”
“The men searched the area but could find no one. It is possible she was rescued, though there weren’t any signs of that. She most likely walked out.” Donovan reached down beside the couch and pulled up Gram’s suitcase and her black leather backpack. “My men found these. Thought you might like to have them.”
A lump in her throat stopped her response. Jennie took the backpack and ran her hand along the soft leather. Gram is alive. She has to be. “She wouldn’t have left this behind. If she’d been rescued, she’d have taken her pack. And she’d never have left on foot without provisions and survival gear.”
“Eric mentioned that she’d had a head injury. Perhaps she came to and wandered off.”
“No.” Jennie gripped the bag. “She wouldn’t do that.
She’s trained—”
“Trained?” Donovan cast her an odd look.
“Um … to take care of herself.” Jennie pinched her lips together. “She’s had wilderness survival training.”
“I see.” Donovan lifted his glass and took a drink. “I’m afraid we can only guess what has happened to her. But we can pray that she remain alive and safe.”
“Someone should be looking for her.” Jennie tightened her grip on the pack’s strap.
“Ah, but they are. While my men were out, they alerted the authorities. The sheriff has promised to continue the search and to locate your family. You must not be anxious, Jennie. Trust in the Lord to bring about His perfect will.”
“Why didn’t the sheriff come get me?”
“What would be the point? You’re safe here. As soon as they locate your parents, you’ll be returned.”
Jennie swallowed back her frustration. It would do no good to argue. And against what? They’d done everything they could. Well, maybe not everything. They hadn’t let her search for Gram. “I’d like to go back to the wreckage.”
“I’m not sure that’s wise.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you. I just need to see for myself. Maybe I can find something your men missed. Some clue as to where she might have gone.”
He sighed heavily. “There’s really no point.”
“Maybe not, but I have to.”
“I could take her.” Eric glanced warily at Donovan. “I should make a mail run again tomorrow anyway.”
Donovan relented. “You are free to do as you wish, of course, but I strongly advise against it. The weather conditions are still poor. There’s another storm predicted tonight.”
Jennie sucked in a deep breath and let it out in a rush. “Good. How early can we start, Eric?”
“Um … like Donovan said, we need to see what the weather’s like tomorrow. If it’s snowing …”
“I know.” Jennie sighed. “I just wish you had a way for me to contact my family. Are you sure you don’t have a phone or a computer…?”
Donovan gave her a sympathetic look. “We prefer not to have modern conveniences here. I’m sure Eric explained that. We feel they compromise our standards.”
“But you have an airstrip.”
“Yes, unfortunately. If we are to survive here, we must receive food and supplies as well as get our products to market.
Planes are the most expedient way, as the road into the compound is not adequate for anything other than horses.”
“And four-wheel drives,” Jennie murmured.
“None of which would be large enough to serve our purposes. As for the planes, we don’t have any of our own,” Donovan added, confirming Eric’s earlier response. “We simply run and maintain the landing strip.”
“But you have a hangar.”
“Sometimes the pilots need to work on their planes or keep them out of the weather.”
“What about a radio? Don’t you have radio contact with the planes?”
“‘No.” His Adam’s apple rose and fell, showing his obvious frustration with her persistence.
“I already told her that.” Eric looked like he was ready to throttle her.
She ignored him. “What happens when you have an emergency? If someone is hurt or … killed?”
“Sometimes I wish we did have a more effective means of communication. But if we relent in one area, what stops us from relenting in another? We must draw the line. The Bible tells us not to be conformed to the world and its ways.”
Donovan had drawn a number of lines, and Jennie kept crossing them with more and more questions. She probably shouldn’t push it, but their head-in-the-ground attitude made Jennie want to scream. “How can a phone be bad?”
Donovan straightened, seeming to set aside the matter. “I understand you are upset about your grandmother. It is a tragic thing. But let us not worry about tomorrow or the weather or what fate awaits us or Mrs. Bradley.”
Jennie frowned. “How … how did you know her name? I didn’t tell you.”
Donovan nodded at the backpack. “Her ID is in her wallet.”
“Oh.”
Giving Jennie a warm smile, Donovan placed a hand at her back and escorted her into the dining room. “We can perhaps talk more about your grandmother later, but now it is past time to eat, and dinner will be getting cold.” Gram is more important than your stupid old dinner. Jennie bit her lip to keep her comment inside.
Entering the large dining room, Jennie set her anger aside. She was hungry, and the food smelled delicious. She was surprised to find a long, rectangular table surrounded by twelve chairs in the center of the room. The chairs were simple straight-backed Shaker style, yet the natural wood gave it a look of elegance. Fresh flowers filled two vases that sat on a starched white table runner. Three places had been set at one end. A large soup tureen, a bowl of salad greens, a basket of bread, and a pitcher filled with some kind of iced beverage waited for them. The smells made Jennie’s stomach growl in anticipation.
Donovan held out the chair at the head of the table for Jennie. Then he and Eric sat on either side of her.
“Um … shouldn’t you be sitting here?”
He smiled. “You are my guest. I trust you will do the honors and bless our meal.”
Feeling a bit intimidated, Jennie asked the blessing. Normally prayer came easily for her. At home they said grace at nearly every meal. But this was different—like praying in front of a pastor.
Donovan thanked her and reached for a basket of freshly baked bread. After tearing off a portion, he handed it to Jennie. She slathered butter onto her piece and spent the next few minutes indulging herself in what had to be the best stew she’d ever eaten. The small bits of meat had the texture of hamburger, but not the taste. “This is good,” she managed between bites. “What kind of meat is in it?”
“I’m glad you approve.” Donovan smiled. “There is no meat in it. It’s tempeh.” At Jennie’s questioning look he added, “A soy product that’s specially treated.”
“We make it here,” Eric said, “for our own use. It’s Donovan’s secret recipe.”
“Not mine, exactly, my mother’s. We were primarily vegetarians long before it was popular. The tempeh satisfies most of the meat eaters among us.”
By the end of the meal, Jennie felt satisfied and strangely at ease. Donovan was right. She needed to let her concerns go and place them in God’s capable hands. God could take care of Gram far better than she could. Donovan, in his gentle and persuasive way, had helped her to see that. She’d still go riding with Eric in the morning, but she didn’t feel the urgency about searching that she’d had before. Peace, Donovan had called it. A peace that passes understanding.
After thanking Donovan for the meal, Jennie and Eric left his quarters to go back to the dorms. Eric took hold of her hand as they walked.
Jennie wondered briefly about what Ryan and Scott would think of her being with Eric. Just as quickly she shrugged the thoughts away. They had both been boyfriends, but Ryan was currently dating Camilla and wanted to remain friends, and Scott was too busy working with whales to think much about her. She still liked them both, but she was beginning to like Eric as well.
“Well, what did you think?” he asked.
“About what?”
“Donovan, of course.” Eric cast her a bemused smile. “Isn’t he great? He has this way about him—you know, that calms people down. Gets them to let go of their problems.”
“Hmm.” Jennie had to agree. She felt more relaxed than she had in ages.
“Hey.” Eric tightened his grip and pulled her toward the gates. “I have to check on the horses. Why don’t you come with me?”
“Sure.”
They walked through the open gates, and Jennie sensed an even greater freedom. She could come and go as she pleased. She frowned, remembering the locked door. You must have been mistaken, she told herself. The door was just hard to open, that’s all. She drew in a deep breath. The air was cold and snowflakes drifted down. Jennie tipped her head back and caught some flakes with her tongue. A cool wind swirled around her ankles, lifting and tugging at the hem of her dress. She’d rather have been wearing her jeans, but the dress was okay. It made her feel feminine and old-fashioned, something she didn’t mind at all.
“It’s good you came to us, Jennie.” Eric opened the barn door and stepped inside. Several horses snickered a greeting.
“Why’s that?” The earthy smell of dirt and manure settled Jennie even more. She didn’t know why she’d let her imagination run away with her like that. These were good people. Kind people. They’d welcomed her in and treated her like one of their own.
Eric went straight to the horse he’d been riding earlier and stroked her neck. She snorted and nuzzled him. “I don’t think it was an accident. I think God knew you needed a respite, so He sent you to us.”
“Actually, I do. But so does our whole family. Why didn’t God send any of the others?”
“Who knows? Maybe you are more in need of what we have to offer here.”
“I need something. Life hasn’t exactly been easy lately. Especially for my mom and dad.”
“What do you mean?”
“That’s why we were going to Mount Bachelor. Gram and J. B.—my grandfather—arranged this ski vacation for us. Thought it might help us get over …” Jennie felt an overwhelming sadness. She hadn’t thought about little Emily all day.
Eric stepped away from the horse and settled an arm around her shoulders.
Tears escaped Jennie’s eyelids and trickled down her cheeks. “My little sister died in childbirth. She came too early.”
“I’m sorry.” Eric gathered her into his arms. Jennie wrapped her arms around his waist. These were the first real tears she’d shed for the baby. Between sobs she told Eric how her mom had gone into labor early, and Emily was just too little and too sick to survive. She leaned her head against Eric’s chest, taking comfort in the steady beat of his heart. Her own heart ached with the loss of her sister and even more at the thought of what might have happened to Gram. No, she told herself. Don’t go there. Gram is strong. She can take care of herself.
Jennie sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s just …”
“Hey, no problem. Lois s
ays tears help clean the heart.”
She took a deep breath and stepped away. “I like that. Sounds like something Gram would say.”
“Look.” Eric pointed out the barn doors at a bright, nearly full moon. “It’s clearing up. How about going for ride?’”
“Can we do that?” Jennie smiled. Except for her trip to the Colony that morning, she hadn’t been riding since last summer when she’d stayed at her aunt and uncle’s dude ranch in Montana.
“Sure. It’ll be fun. With the moon on the snow it’ll be just like daylight.”
She glanced at her skirt with disdain. “I don’t know if I can ride in this dress.”
“Sure you can. Just ride sidesaddle.”
Jennie helped Eric saddle up Sable and another horse called Faith. Faith was a gentle mare with soft brown eyes and a disposition to match. At Jennie’s request, they rode around the compound. Lights attached to the tops of the walls lit the periphery. She and Eric rode outside their reach.
“It still looks like a prison,” Jennie mumbled.
“I guess in a way it does.” Eric glanced warily at the shadowed hills surrounding them. “Like I told you, it isn’t to keep us in …”
“I know. It’s to protect you. I’m still not sure from what.” She followed his gaze over the hills. Coming around toward the stables, Jennie saw a flash of light about halfway up one of the higher hills. “What was that?”
Eric reined his horse in. “I don’t know. Almost looked like lightning.”
“But no thunder.” Jennie pulled up beside Eric, then nudged Faith forward in the direction of the light.
“Jennie, don’t. It might be—”
The unmistakable sound of a gunshot split the cold, clear night.
7
“Get down.” Eric jumped off his horse and gave her a swat. Sable reared and broke into a run, heading back for the barn.
Faith whinnied and pranced anxiously to join Sable. Following Eric’s lead, Jennie managed to clear the saddle, then took cover behind an outcropping of rocks. Her heart hammered so loudly she could barely hear Eric’s instructions to stay low and follow him. They moved among the rocks, managing to stay under cover for about twenty yards. Scrambling behind the last rocks at the bottom of the hill, Eric put up his hand to stop her. “Wait.”
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