Stranded

by Patricia H. Rushford

  Stan promised to keep them informed as Jennie and Eric mounted the horses and rode off. On a rise two miles away, they could still see the fire’s glow. So far there had been no sirens. No headlights from other vehicles. The authorities weren’t coming. Jennie wondered if the sheriff didn’t know or if he and others in the area were ignoring it. Eric’s ranch was a long way from civilization. Still, wouldn’t someone have reported it? Apparently even a fire like the one they’d witnessed could go unnoticed out here. Or maybe the authorities had no intention of responding.

  It made sense in a warped kind of way. If the ranchers wanted to get rid of the Colony, maybe the sheriff did too. It would explain why Jennie’s parents hadn’t been notified. For a brief moment Jennie let herself entertain the thought that her family had been notified and had chosen to leave her there. She knew in her heart that couldn’t be true. They’ll come, she reassured herself. But until then, you have to take care of Gram and try to figure out what’s going on.

  Neither she nor Eric spoke much during the trip back. She was lost in prayers and thoughts about Gram. Eric seemed steeped in grief over losing his parents and his brother. Or maybe wondering, as she was, if they were alive, where they might be.

  The long trek back gave her time to think about a lot of things. None of them very pleasant. Questions continued to buzz around her head like a swarm of yellow jackets. Where were her parents? What was taking so long? Where was the sheriff in all this? Was Stan a government agent? He seemed to be keeping an eye on her and Eric. Could the government be investigating the Colony and not want her and Gram picked up?

  “Eric, what do you know about the two men who were killed?”

  He shrugged. “They were nice guys. Hadn’t been with us too long.”

  “How long?”

  “Two or three months.” Eric cast her a suspicious glance. “Why?”

  “Just curious. Their deaths are probably tied to your parents’ disappearance.”

  “I’m sure they are. I told you, this vigilante group—whoever they are—won’t stop until they see every last one of us in the grave.”

  “Do you know how they were killed?”

  “Shot.”

  “At the same time?”

  Eric sighed. “No. The shootings were about a week apart.”

  “Do you think the sheriff is in on it?”

  Eric pondered her question and nodded. “That’s possible. He doesn’t like the Colony or the people in it.”

  “Why do you think so? What does he do that makes you suspicious?”

  “Humph.” Eric rubbed the back of his neck. “I can just tell. He wants us out of there. I think he’s afraid there’s going to be another incident like there was in Idaho last year. Remember that weird religious cult? Federal agents wiped them out.”

  “They brought it on themselves,” Jennie said in the government’s defense. “They had weapons. Their leader was a sick man.”

  “Maybe he was, but a lot of innocent people died. Same thing could happen with us. We have no weapons—”

  “Stan does,” Jennie interrupted. “So do the other men.”

  “For protection. We’re not doing anything wrong, but what if the government came in and tried to force us out? The people here will try to defend themselves. I don’t care what anyone says. We aren’t some weird religious cult, Jennie. The people at Desert Colony are devoted followers of Christ. We should be able to worship and live as we please. It’s one of our freedoms as US citizens.”

  “The government won’t interfere as long as you’re living within the law.”

  “Tell that to the sheriff and his vigilantes.”

  Eric seemed certain now that the sheriff was involved. Jennie almost wished she hadn’t mentioned it. She hated thinking a law enforcement officer might be one of the bad guys. While there were a few, most, like her father, grandfather, and grandmother, were sincere and honest. “I don’t know, Eric. I’d hate to think …”

  “They’ve got the power to make it look like we’re doing something wrong. Want to know why they took my parents away and burned the house down?”

  “Apparently to destroy evidence.”

  “Yeah, but why my family? I’ll tell you why. Because I’m one of the Desert Colony people. I think this is a scrup, and we’re going to get the blame.”

  Without letting her respond, he went on. “They killed two of our men, and the sheriff accuses Donovan. He’s going to accuse us of this too. We are innocent, Jennie, but they’ll make us look guilty. If they do, there’s nothing to stop them from forcing us out, even if they have to blow the place up to do it.”

  There was a bitterness in Eric’s voice she’d never heard before. Jennie could understand why, but she didn’t like it. In fact, his response worried her. He could be right. The people who wanted them out could commit all sorts of crimes and plant evidence to make Donovan and his people look guilty. And if the sheriff had a hand in it, the federal authorities would believe him. They might send undercover agents into the area to find out what was going on.

  Jennie had another wild thought. If they’d sent Gram to take photos, could they have had agents in place at the compound? The two men who’d been shot? The men may have learned too much or confided in the wrong people. If only Gram would come around. She’d know. Jennie was sure of it.

  “Go ahead,” Eric said when they reached the barn. “I’ll take care of the horses.”

  “Thanks.” Jennie raced into the compound across the yard and up the hospital steps. The door was locked. She beat on it with both fists, dumping her anger and frustration into the wood.

  A woman in a navy dress and white apron finally opened it. Shushing Jennie, she came out and closed the door behind her. “You’ll wake the patients. What do you want?”

  “I need to see my grandmother.”

  “It’s three in the morning.” Though Jennie didn’t remember seeing her before, the woman seemed to recognize her. “Oh,” Her annoyance slipped behind a forgiving face. “I’m afraid that’s not possible right now.”

  “Why? Stan said she was worse. What’s wrong?” Jennie’s stomach had wound itself into a tight coil.

  “Not worse, really. She became extremely agitated during the night. We had to sedate her.”

  “He said it was her heart.”

  “Her heart?” She looked puzzled. “He told you that?” Jennie nodded.

  “Well, it wasn’t her heart, though her pulse rate has been somewhat erratic. Although,” she added thoughtfully, “we did think it might be her heart early on, but it wasn’t.”

  “Why can’t I see her?”

  “She’s resting. She’s had a rough night.” Looking Jennie over, the nurse said, “You look like you could use some rest yourself. Come in and let me see to that burn. We have some special ointment that will heal it quickly and minimize the scarring.”

  Jennie nodded and followed the nurse into a treatment room.

  “By the way, I’m Sheila. What happened?”

  Lying down on the exam table, Jennie briefly told her about the fire.

  Sheila made clicking sounds to show her disapproval. “I can’t believe someone would intentionally start a fire. You poor thing. As soon as I’m finished with you, I’d better check on Eric.”

  Feeling comfortable with Sheila now, Jennie closed her eyes. It hurt to have the nurse mess with the wound, but the alternative would mean infection. Somewhere between the cleaning of burned skin and dressing it, Jennie dozed off.

  It must have been for only a moment or two. When she awoke, she was still lying on the exam table. The nurse had her back turned, and Dr. Paul was standing beside her. The nurse drew something up into a vial. The doctor’s gaze drifted from the nurse to Jennie. He smiled when he saw she was awake. “Welcome back. Eric was just telling me about your ordeal.”

  “Eric’s here
?”

  “Just came in a few minutes ago. Kimberly is dressing his burns.”

  “How is he?”

  “Doing very well. I’ve got him all sutured up. He should be fine in a few days.”

  Sheila came toward Jennie, syringe and needle poised. Jennie sat up so fast, she nearly fell off the table.

  “What’s that?”

  Sheila smiled. “An antibiotic.”

  “Just a precautionary measure, Jennie,” Dr. Paul assured. “You don’t want that burn getting infected.”

  Jennie fumbled with the hem of her sweater, lifting it over her head, then raised the sleeve of her turtleneck. She watched the nurse clean a patch of skin, then sink the needle into her arm. Sheila plunged the milky-looking liquid into Jennie’s muscle and swiftly pulled the needle out, rubbing the injection site with a cotton ball.

  It ached. Jennie slipped her arm back into her sweater. “Dr. Paul, what happened to Gram?”

  Sheila looked annoyed. “I told her that Mrs. Bradley had been agitated.”

  “I just want to know why,” Jennie said.

  Dr. Paul brought his gaze to meet Jennie’s. “We’re not certain. I suspect her head injury may have caused some sort of paranoia. She was extremely combative.”

  “I’d like to see her. I won’t wake her up.” Jennie slipped off the table, her legs unsteady. “Please.”

  Sheila and Dr. Paul looked at each other. He gave her a brief nod. “Go ahead, but only for a few minutes.”

  Jennie left the exam room and tentatively crept down the center of the ward. The overhead lights were still off, leaving only a dim night-light near each of the beds. It was enough. Gram looked peaceful. Surprisingly no worse than she had the day before. If anything, she had more color. Jennie pulled a chair as close to the bed as she could without touching it. She wanted so much to crawl in beside Gram and cuddle up like she had so many times in the past. Instead, she rested her arms and head on a corner of the bed near Gram’s feet. Tears welled up in her eyes and slipped silently onto the white bedspread. Gram’s foot moved. Jennie jerked up.

  Gram lifted her right hand, then let it drop. Her eyes opened. Jennie smiled and scooted forward. “You’re awake,” she whispered.

  Gram put a finger to Jennie’s lips and furtively glanced toward the nurses’ station, where the doctor and two nurses were talking to Eric. Or rather listening. Eric must have been telling them about their crazy night. Jennie wanted to tell Gram too.

  Gram reached up and brushed Jennie’s bangs aside. When her fingers brushed the bandage on Jennie’s face, she paused.

  “It’s a long story,” Jennie said softly. Gram closed her eyes.

  “What’s going on?” Jennie whispered. “They said you were worse.”

  “Go now.” Gram mouthed the words so softly, Jennie could barely hear. “Find Lois. She’ll explain.”

  Jennie didn’t understand why, but after promising to be back later in the morning, she kissed Gram good-bye. When she reached Eric and the others, Jennie told them she was going to bed for a while. Eric opted to walk back to the dorms with her.

  “How is she?” He took hold of Jennie’s hand. The gesture warmed her.

  “Okay, I guess.” As much as she wanted to tell him what Gram had said, she wouldn’t. Not until she’d had a chance to talk to Lois. She and Gram must have talked. “Better in a way.”

  “Good.” Eric seemed preoccupied and sullen. He dropped her off at the dorm and went on to the men’s side. Before going to bed, Jennie showered, taking care to keep her bandage clean, which wasn’t an easy task. She was filthy, her skin nearly black from the smoke. Her clothes smelled so bad, she actually considered dumping them in the trash as she peeled them off. Once she’d finished her shower, Jennie slipped into a clean cotton nightgown, bundled her clothes in the towel, and set them just inside the door to her room. She quickly banded her hair in a scrunchie and crawled into bed.

  Even though Jennie’s mind whirled with unanswered questions—more now than before—she slept. Maybe it was the injection she’d received at the hospital, or maybe it was knowing Gram was getting better, or having someone to talk to who might have some answers. Jennie slept through breakfast and didn’t awaken until the noon bell.

  She wasn’t surprised to find her clothes missing and a clean dress lying across the foot of her bed. Marilee had been busy. Jennie dressed quickly and rushed into the dining room, eager to find Lois. The older woman wasn’t there. After filling her plate, Jennie took a seat next to Marilee and Eric.

  “Where’s Lois?” she asked, trying not to seem too eager.

  Marilee looked up from her lentil soup. “You haven’t heard?” Her face clouded. “Oh, you wouldn’t have.”

  “Heard what?”

  “Lois is in the hospital.” Eric kept his gaze on his spoon until it reached his mouth.

  “What do you mean, in the hospital? She isn’t sick, is she?”

  “Not exactly. It happens sometimes—you know, as people get older. I didn’t think Lois would get it, but …” Marilee set her spoon down and picked up a whole-grain roll. “She has dementia.”

  Jennie felt like she’d been rammed in the stomach. She’d awakened feeling optimistic. Gram wouldn’t have told her to find Lois without a reason. Jennie assumed the older woman knew something—could answer at least some of the questions Jennie had.

  Now she had no one.

  18

  The food in Jennie’s mouth tasted like ashes. She pushed her plate back and started to take a sip of juice, then stopped. She held it in midair, examining the orange liquid. Marilee eyed her warily. Jennie pretended to take a sip and casually set the glass on the table. “I’m going to see Lois.”

  “Now?” Marilee and Eric both looked at her as though she were crazy.

  “I have to see her and my grandmother.”

  When she went to get up, Eric put a restraining hand on her arm. “Wait.”

  “Why?” Jennie glanced around and saw for herself.

  Her announcement had caught the attention of several residents. One of them was Dory, the older woman who’d told her about the juice being a healthy drink. When Jennie caught her gaze, she looked away. Jennie wished she were better at reading faces. Something in the woman’s face sent Jennie’s intuition into overdrive. She knew something. Jennie had seen Lois and Dory together and assumed they were friends. She wondered how close they were and if Dory might know what Lois and Gram had talked about. Maybe Lois had confided in her. She’d find out soon enough.

  “I want to go too,” Eric said, “as soon as we finish eating.”

  Eric’s gaze held a warning. Jennie took it to mean they shouldn’t be drawing attention to themselves. He was right.

  Jennie settled back down and began eating, or rather moving food around on her plate. Fortunately, Eric was a fast eater. A few minutes later, he pushed himself away from the table and gathered up his dishes.

  “I’d like to come with you,” Marilee said, “but I have dish duty. Tell Lois I said hi and I’ll come over to see her later.”

  “I doubt she’ll understand.” Eric grimaced. “You know how they get. She probably won’t even recognize me.”

  “I know,” Marilee said, “but the nurses say we need to talk to them anyway. You never know what they might be hearing.”

  Eric grumbled something Jennie didn’t understand.

  “Jennie,” Marilee said as they picked up their dishes, “I took the liberty of washing your clothes. They’re drying now.”

  “Thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”

  “Oh yes, I did. I did Eric’s too. I just hope the smoke smell comes out. It was horribly strong.”

  “I appreciate that. And the dress. Thanks.”

  Marilee smiled. “I like doing things for people. I’ll take your clothes back to your room as soon as they’re do
ne.”

  They dropped their dishes off, and as Jennie turned around she nearly ran into Dory.

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” Dory smiled up at her, looking as though they shared a secret. Did they? Jennie wanted to talk with the woman, but it would have to wait until she could get her alone. Then she would have to be careful. Very careful. Dory could have had something to do with Lois’s sudden illness.

  Jennie waited until she and Eric were outside before asking, “What did you mean back there—about knowing how they get. Do very many of the older residents have dementia?”

  “No. Not a lot.” He tossed her an aggravated look that said he didn’t want to talk about it. “It just happens sometimes.”

  Fine. Jennie didn’t plan to say another word. They walked in silence through the courtyard and into the hospital. Jennie made a point to look at each of the patients as she walked by on her way to Gram’s bed. There were only three besides Gram and Lois. Two older men who looked like skeletons with skin. They appeared to be asleep. A woman with stark white hair that stood up at odd angles had the head of her bed elevated. She was still eating, and her hand shook as she brought a piece of bread to her mouth.

  Jennie smiled as she walked by. The woman glared at her but didn’t speak.

  “That’s Gladys,” Eric said. “She thinks everyone is out to get her.”

  Maybe they are. Jennie didn’t put voice to her thoughts. This wasn’t the time or the place. When she approached Gram’s bed, Jennie’s heart dipped like a plane suddenly losing altitude. Her eyes were glazed over again, staring at some unknown spot across the room.

  “Gram.” Jennie squeezed her hand. She didn’t respond. Her eyelids fluttered shut, seeming to close Jennie out. A deep and sudden sense of loss gripped her. “Gram,” she whispered, her tone urgent. “I need you. Please wake up. Please.” She waited for several minutes, but Gram gave no indication that she’d heard.

  Jennie started to step away, then remembered something Marilee had said. “You never know what they might be hearing.”

  Jennie leaned close to Gram’s ear and told her about Lois. “I’m scared, Gram. Really scared. I don’t know who I can trust.”