Stranded

by Patricia H. Rushford

  Marilee smiled. “Um … it isn’t that easy. Of course you aren’t forced to stay. It’s just … look, I need to get to breakfast. You do too.”

  Jennie watched her walk down the hall. An uneasy feeling crept through her veins. They weren’t going to let her leave. She’d read some things about cults. Once you got in, you didn’t get out. Some brainwashed people. Was she being brainwashed?

  Of course not. Donovan had said she could go out this morning to look for Gram. Would he change his mind? He had been reluctant to let her go. Eric had volunteered to go with her.

  Eric. Was he going because he wanted to help, or to keep an eye on her?

  Jennie stopped second-guessing herself and headed for the showers. “I’m leaving today.” She made the statement aloud, as if hearing it herself could confirm it. “With or without your consent, Donovan, I’m getting out of here.” If she couldn’t get her own clothes, she’d do what she’d done last night—hitch up her skirt and make do.

  Jennie showered and dressed, then took the time to braid her hair. She made it in to breakfast twenty minutes late. Several residents eyed her skeptically. Some cast her looks of disdain. Others smiled.

  She ignored them and went to the buffet, only to find that the food had been taken away. Fine. Now she knew what happened when you were late. You didn’t eat. She poured herself a glass of orange juice from the large container on the side bar, then found a seat at the nearest table.

  She’d just gotten seated when Eric joined her. “Here.” He set a plate in front of her. “Saved this for you.”

  Jennie’s gaze met his and held it. “Thanks. You didn’t have to.”

  “Yes, I did. If we’re going to look for your grandmother, you need to eat. I don’t want you fainting on me.”

  “We’re going?”

  “Yep.” An easy grin spread across his face. “Donovan said we should. We can stay out as long as the weather holds up.”

  Jennie felt like hugging him. Instead, she thanked him and pushed her fork into the mound of scrambled eggs. Feeling a twinge of guilt at eating his food, she said, “What about you? Did you get enough to eat?”

  He grinned. “Yeah. When I saw you weren’t here, I asked Marilee. She said you’d be late, so I piled on some extra food.” Jennie looked around the crowded room and spotted Marilee seated several tables away. Marilee tossed her a conspiratorial smile. Had she known Eric would save food for her? Jennie smiled back and turned her attention to her plate. Besides the eggs, there was sausage, which Eric explained wasn’t sausage at all but a mix of soy, vegetables, and legumes. By the end of the meal, Jennie’s mood had improved dramatically. She wasn’t a prisoner after all. She and Eric were going to search for Gram. Her headache had disappeared, and her stomach was full.

  When she got back to her room after breakfast, she found Marilee bending over her bed. She jerked up as Jennie entered. “Oh, hi.” She nodded toward the bed. “I hope you don’t mind, but I made your bed and…”

  Jennie’s gaze drifted to the foot of the bed. “My clothes.” Marilee had laid them out on the blanket. Jennie felt terrible about her earlier suspicions and the way she’d acted. “Thanks. That was really nice of you.”

  “I hope you find your grandmother.” Marilee headed toward the door. “The Lord be with you.”

  Jennie thanked her again, and when the door closed, she stripped out of her dress and boots, then dragged on her jeans and turtleneck, topping it with her wool sweater. When she finished lacing up her hiking boots, Jennie grabbed her jacket and hurried down the hall through the common room and out the door. The gates stood open. Sun glistened on the freshly fallen snow. Beautiful morning. With renewed hope, Jennie broke into a run and didn’t stop until she reached the barn.

  “Hey,” Eric greeted as he threw the saddle on Faith. “You look happy.”

  “I am. My headache’s gone. I have my clothes back. The sun is shining, and we’re going to find my grandmother.”

  Eric frowned. “We’re going to look for clues. I can’t promise we’ll find her. Donovan said you shouldn’t get your hopes up.”

  Jennie refused to let him dampen her spirits. “Do you need any help?”

  “Nope.” He tugged on the strap to adjust the saddle, then gave Faith a pat on the rear. “She’s all set to go. Sable is already saddled.”

  They walked the horses out of the stables and into the sunlight. Faith seemed as eager as Jennie to get going. As Jennie mounted, she noticed Eric had placed saddlebags on both horses. Until then she hadn’t given a thought to the supplies they might need. Not a good thing. If she had gone alone, she’d have been in trouble. “What’s in the bags?”

  “Food, emergency supplies, the usual. Out here you have to be prepared for anything.”

  “Um … thanks. I should have thought about that and given you a hand.”

  “No problem. Lois and I put it all together before breakfast.” He grinned. “She even baked us a surprise treat for lunch. Wouldn’t tell me what it was, but I have a hunch it’s brownies. She makes them with cheesecake and raspberries swirled around inside.”

  Jennie’s mouth watered. “Mmm. Sounds great. I have a good feeling about today.” The comment was more wishful thinking than accurate. She knew all too well that the possibility of actually finding Gram was slim and her intuition had her stomach tied in knots. Something told her not to go, but she wasn’t about to listen. She had a chance to find Gram, and nothing could make her pass it up.

  10

  During the trek to the site of the plane crash, Jennie’s suspicious mind drifted back to Marilee. What were her motives? Why had she been so nice to her? Marilee seemed almost too anxious to see her go. Was she planning something? An ambush? Suppose this was a trap to lure her away and then kill her.

  Jennie shook her head. You’ve been reading too many mysteries. Marilee is just a kindhearted Christian like Lois and Eric.

  The day was half gone by the time they reached the place where the downed plane should have been.

  “I don’t understand it.” Jennie scanned the area, wishing she’d thought to get the GPS instrument back from Stan.

  “It has to be here,” Eric said. “Donovan said these coordinates would lead us right to it.”

  “Apparently he was wrong.” Jennie leaned over to stroke Faith’s neck. “Let’s split up and circle around.”

  An hour later neither had found any trace of the plane or of Gram. Snow still covered the ground, but the body of the plane should have been easy to spot.

  “Why don’t we have lunch,” Eric suggested as he dismounted. “We can look for it again.”

  Jennie agreed but didn’t have much of an appetite. She was just finishing off her piece of brownie when she spotted a flash of light about two hundred yards from them—the sun reflecting off a piece of metal. Her heart leaped to her throat. A gun? Was someone going to shoot at them again? Jennie shouted a warning to Eric, and they took cover behind some brush.

  “There’s no one there.”

  “I saw something. Look, there is it again.” Jennie’s hand went to her throat. “Maybe it’s a piece of the plane.”

  “Let’s check it out.” They mounted their horses and rode over to take a look.

  “It’s a piece of the plane, all right.” Jennie’s gaze settled on the trees Gram had used to sheer the wings off. The broken branches bore witness to the crash.

  “Where’s the rest of it?” Eric spoke her thoughts.

  Stunned, Jennie shaded her eyes from the sun. “I … I don’t know. Unless …” Jennie had only one answer. “The authorities must have picked it up. You know, to determine the cause of the accident. Donovan might have been right when he suggested Gram had been rescued. They found the plane, picked her up, then came back to get the pieces.”

  “Maybe.” Eric examined what looked like part of the wing. “But how could t
hey move it so fast?”

  “Good question. J. B. and my dad have connections with the federal government.” She frowned. “Even if they got moving on it right away…” Jennie let her words trail off. The government wasn’t known for its haste in any situation. But what other explanation could there be?

  “It doesn’t make sense.” She slid her hand over the metal. “Why would they move the plane and not come for me?”

  “Maybe the sheriff hasn’t found them yet.”

  Jennie shook her head. “They’d call the authorities. I know they would.”

  “We might as well head back.” Eric took hold of her arm. “There’s nothing we can do here.”

  Jennie shrugged out of his grasp. “I can’t go back. I have to get help. I have to find a phone or find the sheriff … or somebody.” Looking out over the desolate landscape, she added, “Please, Eric. You have to help me. Take me to the Adams place.”

  “Are you crazy? We can’t go there. I told you—”

  “They don’t like you, I know. But I’m one of them—“At Eric’s injured expression, she said, “I don’t hate you. But I’m not part of your group either.”

  It took a while, but Jennie finally convinced him to show her where the Adams’s lived. He left her at the end of the long driveway, promising he’d wait. At first he’d insisted on going along, but Jennie wasn’t certain what their reception would be. She felt she had a better chance at talking to them if she were alone.

  Riding down the mile-long gravel road made Jennie feel alone and isolated. She was an easy target for anyone who might want her out of the way. Not a rational thought, Jennie told herself. No one wanted her dead—at least, not that she knew of. Marilee might be jealous, but she wasn’t a killer. Jennie breathed a long sigh of relief when at last she neared the farmhouse. No one seemed to be around. There were no vehicles. An old tractor had been parked next to the barn some time ago. Dry grass reached the rusty old seat.

  Jennie dismounted and tied Faith’s reins to the split-rail fence surrounding the farmhouse. The hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention as she walked up the path to the front door. “Hello!” she called out. No one answered.

  The porch creaked with each footstep Jennie made toward the door. Her heart raced. She called out again and knocked on the door. She didn’t really expect an answer. The place had a deserted feel to it. She tried the door. Hinges squeaked as it swung inward. Taking a deep breath for confidence, Jennie stepped inside. Empty. They’d moved out.

  “Well, you didn’t come for a visit,” she said aloud, her voice echoing across the wooden floors. “Find a phone.”

  In the living room, Jennie found a phone jack but no phone. Same in the kitchen. Determined, Jennie made her way up the stairs to the second floor. There were four bedrooms and a bath. All the doors were open but one. Jennie left it until last. No phones, not even a jack. She reached for the doorknob of the last room and hesitated. Her heart pounded in her throat. There’s nothing to be afraid of, she told herself for the umpteenth time. Nothing at all.

  She opened the door and caught sight of a mouse scurrying across the floor. Jennie yelped, then chuckled as the mouse’s tiny feet slipped on the slick hardwood in its attempt to escape. “Relax.” She let go of the knob and stepped inside. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  But someone may hurt you. The thought thundered into her head just as she heard footsteps on the front porch. The front door squeaked open. The bedroom door behind her slammed shut.

  Jennie dropped to the floor.

  11

  “Jennie!” a male voice drifted up the stairwell.

  Eric? Jennie picked herself up off the floor and brushed off the dust. Embarrassed that she’d been so jumpy, she opened the door to the bedroom and stepped out into the hall. “I’m upstairs.”

  When no one answered, Jennie called again, “Eric?”

  She descended the remaining stairs. An icy breeze swept through the open door. The hair on her arms and neck prickled. She had heard Eric. Hadn’t she? Someone had definitely called her name. A creak sounded on the front porch again. Jennie’s heart jumped to her throat.

  A tall, grim-faced man in an oilskin coat appeared in the doorway. Jennie’s fear drained into her rubbery legs when she recognized him. Stan, one of the men from the compound. But where was Eric? “What … what are you doing here?” she ventured.

  Had Stan been the man who’d ambushed them before? Had he come back to finish the job? He’d had a weapon earlier.

  “You okay?” Stan’s voice was gravel rough, but his harsh gaze softened as he looked her over. “We thought we heard a gunshot.”

  “Oh.” She tried to smile at the irony of it. “The wind must have caught the door upstairs. Where’s Eric? I thought I heard him.”

  “You did.” Stan glanced behind him. “I think he got the wind knocked out of him. We both took cover.” The corner of Stan’s mouth twitched. “He did a belly flop off the porch.”

  Eric grunted as he pushed himself off the ground and straightened. “Not funny,” he gasped.

  A bubble of relief escaped Jennie’s throat. “What are you guys doing here?” she repeated.

  Eric mounted the steps, still brushing off the dust. “Stan came out to find us. He has news about your grandmother.”

  Jennie eyed him warily, looking for a sign. Good news or bad? She couldn’t tell. “You found her?”

  A grin broke out on Eric’s face. “She’s at the compound.”

  Jennie brushed past Stan and threw her arms around Eric. Tears welled in her eyes. “She’s okay, then?” she asked as she stepped away.

  “She’s …” Eric glanced at Stan.

  The big man nodded. “Your grandmother is alive, and the doctor says she’ll be fine in a few days.”

  Jennie let out a huge sigh, tipped back her head, and offered up a prayer.

  “I knew it would work out,” Eric said smugly. “Things do if you just trust God.”

  “Let’s go.” Jennie jumped off the porch and headed toward her horse. “I want to see her.”

  Eric’s gaze wandered from the house to the yard and the pastureland beyond. “Place looks deserted. Did you call—”

  “No one’s here. They’ve moved, I guess.”

  He frowned. “That’s not possible.” Eric stepped inside and looked around.

  The blend of disbelief and anguish on his face took Jennie by surprise. “Eric, what’s wrong?”

  “I don’t understand.” Eric went inside, moving quickly from the kitchen to the living room. He started up the stairs and sank onto one of the steps halfway to the landing. Shaking his head, he murmured something Jennie couldn’t understand.

  “What’s wrong?” Jennie followed him in and sat down beside him. “From the way you talked earlier, I’d have thought you’d be glad they’ve moved.”

  “Mom would never have moved without letting me know.”

  “Mom?” Jennie’s mouth dropped open. “You … you live here? I thought—I mean … you were accusing these guys of shooting at us.”

  “My father and brother hated me for joining the Colony. Mom didn’t want me to go either, but I think in a way she understood.” He swept a hand over his face. “They wouldn’t just leave like this. Something must have happened. Did you look around—in the barns and stuff?”

  “No. Just the house. Everything’s gone. Maybe they sent you a letter and it hasn’t come.”

  “Eric.” Stan’s large form nearly filled the doorway. “We need to get back.”

  Jennie placed what she hoped was a comforting arm around Eric’s shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

  “As am I,” Stan said. “However, you left your family to follow the Lord. Have you changed your mind?”

  Eric raised his head and abruptly stood. “No. But this isn’t right. My mother would have told me.”


  “Perhaps I can locate them,” Stan offered. “We can talk to Donovan when we get back.”

  Eric shook his head. “Don’t bother. I lost my earthly family a long time ago. I have a new family now. I don’t need them.”

  Stan nodded and, in a fatherly gesture, settled a hand on Eric’s shoulder.

  Jennie didn’t know what to make of Eric’s situation and reflected on it as they mounted their horses and headed back to the compound. Could his parents and brother really have turned their backs on Eric? She couldn’t imagine anyone being that cruel.

  Her own family wouldn’t disown her no matter what she’d done. They loved one another. Jennie thought about the sacrifices her parents and grandparents had made over the years that reflected their unconditional love. Those thoughts brought her back to the nagging questions: Where are your parents? Why haven’t they come for you?

  Hurt bubbled up in her throat. Tears escaped their confines and trickled down her cheeks, turning bitter cold by the time they reached her jaw. She wiped them away with her jacket sleeve. Jennie couldn’t imagine a snowstorm keeping her father from tracking her down. The only answer she could come up with was that her parents didn’t know where she was. Which meant the authorities hadn’t told them. Not possible, unless the authorities couldn’t find them. Or Donovan’s men haven’t told them.

  Jennie stared at the back of Stan’s wide shoulders. Had he and the others lied about talking to the sheriff? There was something scary about him for sure. Yet, at the same time, she’d seen kindness in the way he comforted Eric. Besides, an inner voice told her, he came all the way out here to tell you about Gram.

  She dug into her jacket pocket for a tissue and came up with only some lint.

  “Here.” Eric handed her a hanky. “What’s wrong? I’d think you’d be happy, with your grandmother being found.”

  “I am—about that.” Jennie explained how his family’s being gone had started her thinking about her own parents. “They’d come for me as soon as they found out where I was.” She pulled up on the reins to slow down and let Stan get ahead.