Wyoming Undercover. Karen Whiddon
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Embarrassment warred with horror as Sophia realized what Deirdre meant. She mumbled some sort of response, hoping it didn’t sound too much like agreement. Was this some sort of test? It had to be, because there was no way Deirdre could be serious.
Something of her thoughts must have showed on her face. Deirdre chuckled again before patting her on the head the way one would a wayward child. “Go on back home now,” Deirdre said. “We’ll talk again closer to the ceremony.”
Sophia felt another flash of panic. “About that...” she began.
“You don’t need to even worry about that,” Deirdre said. “It will all be handled by our staff, including our dress. All you have to do is show up.”
One more dream dashed. Of course everything about this marriage-to-be was the opposite of her hopes and expectations.
Somehow she managed to respond with a thank-you before turning and heading back the way she’d come.
Jack couldn’t stop thinking about the beautiful nurse. He knew he needed to focus. A feminine distraction could only be potentially catastrophic. So he went to work with his roommate Phillip, who seemed hopeful he could teach Jack how to become a skilled carpenter. While Jack had his doubts, he was game. Anything to help him blend in with the group. At least being new, he could ask a lot of questions. And despite his resolve, he lasted three days before he found himself casually asking about the nurse he’d briefly met in the medical clinic.
“Sophia Hannah?” Phillip’s incredulous expression was comical. “You don’t want a woman like her.”
“‘A woman like her’?” Repeating the words, Jack waited for the other man to elaborate. “What do you mean?”
“Clearly you’ve seen her.”
Jack nodded. “Yes. She’s gorgeous.”
“Oh, stunning. And that’s the problem. Everyone knows women who look like her are nothing but trouble.”
Unsure how to respond to that, Jack simply shrugged. Maybe it was a cult thing.
“Anyway,” Phillip continued, “it doesn’t matter. Sophia is claimed already. And by none other than our illustrious leader. A man as powerful as him is the only one who could handle a woman like that.”
“Ezekiel?” Jack had done his research. The cult leader was at least eighty. “Isn’t he a little...old for her?”
“He’s Chosen,” Phillip said, as if that explained everything. “He has more wives than I can count. And some of them are younger than his own children—heck, his own grandchildren.” And then he laughed, as if that was the greatest thing he’d ever heard.
Nothing new there. Men in power often went in search of women many years younger. But Jack would bet Sophia was in her mid-to late twenties or, at most, early thirties. That would make Ezekiel forty or fifty years too old for her. He couldn’t help but wonder how she felt about that.
“So.” Phillip clapped him on the back, still grinning. “She’s off-limits. But I know plenty of other girls still looking for a husband or fun. Once you get settled in here, I’ll take you around to meet some of them.”
Though Jack wasn’t even the slightest bit interested—he hoped he wasn’t around long enough to have to deal with any of that—he nodded. “Sounds good. Now, how about you show me what you want me to do with those cinder blocks?”
They were building more dwellings. Phillip had explained that all residence buildings were built from the exact same blueprints. No one’s home was better than any other’s. The only ones that were different were those built to house Ezekiel’s family members.
While Jack had never worked on a construction job site before, this one ran like clockwork. Everyone went about their chores with dedicated efficiency if not outright happiness. Lots of whistling and good-natured joking.
“All the workers seem to really enjoy their jobs,” Jack commented. “I haven’t heard a single complaint. Observing, they all seem focused.”
“Oh, they are,” Phillip said confidently. “Since childhood, we know we have to find what we do best, so by the time we’re adults, we can excel.”
“I’m guessing everyone is well paid.”
“Paid?” Phillip laughed. “Oh, we’re paid, all right. We have a roof over our heads, food in our bellies and direction to help us strive to reach a higher level of consciousness.”
Jack stared. On the surface, everything inside the compound seemed ordinary. But he sensed there was more, lurking.
“The system here is simple,” Phillip continued, the earnestness in his expression letting Jack know this was important. “If you do well, you’re rewarded. If you don’t...”
Jack waited for his new friend to finish.
Instead, Phillip shook his head and asked a question, “You say you’ve been in the military, correct?”
“Yes.” Jack nodded. “The army. Afghanistan.” Which had also been where he’d suffered his injuries and nearly lost his life, though he didn’t say that out loud.
Again he thought back to the pretty little nurse. Sophia Hannah, promised to a man old enough to be her grandfather. He gave a mental shrug, aware he didn’t need to be thinking about her.
Suddenly aware Phillip watched him, he grimaced. “Why? What does my having been in the service have to do with any of this?”
“I just figured you’d understand our system more quickly, that’s all.” Phillip shrugged. “From what I understand, they use a similar system of punishment and reward. Helps you become the best soldier. Here, we think it assists you in becoming the best you can be.”
Jack nodded. “I understand.” Even though he really didn’t.
Phillip smiled and they went back to work.
The next day, Phillip told Jack he planned to train him on a new task. Jack was agreeable since, as of yet, he hadn’t seemed to be a good fit for any of the others he’d tried. Though he kind of sucked as a construction worker, now that he had the routine down, Jack thought he might improve with practice.
After he’d been injured and once he’d gotten out of the hospital and dealt with his addiction, he’d been adrift.
He’d tried to work as a police officer in a small town southwest of Fort Worth, but soon realized he was too jumpy. PTSD, they’d called it, but he’d never actually bought into the idea. For one thing, most of the time he’d felt fine. Sure, the occasional loud noise had him throwing himself to the ground, but that was to be expected of a man who’d nearly lost his life in an IED explosion. He’d been damn lucky to come out of it with only the scars.
He knew his refusal to get treatment had been part of the reason they’d politely asked him to leave. The other part? He didn’t like to think too much about