Touch of Rain Read online

  “I already told you—I don’t know.”

  Presumably they were talking about Inclar. Or his body. But aside from the fact that Gabe had lied to Shannon about knowing where Inclar was, it didn’t mean much. Anyone on the farm could have killed him, though my bet was still on Gabe since he was likely responsible for placing the perimeter guards who’d attacked us. You didn’t put guards at a place like this unless you had something to hide.

  “I have to be sure this isn’t going to cause problems.”

  “Yes.” Harmony’s voice was scarcely a whisper.

  “You aren’t hiding something from me, are you?” A tiny sliver of the gentleness was back in Gabe’s voice.

  “No. I promise. Come to bed, Gabe. We can worry about this in the morning.”

  I peeked around the corner and caught a glimpse of them in each other’s arms before Jake yanked me back. I tried to reconcile this submissive Harmony with the confident woman who had been teasing Korin earlier. The change of attitude was too noticeable to be a coincidence.

  Or maybe she was a good actress.

  Could she be involved with Korin? Maybe the two of them were plotting together. No, I couldn’t see that. Korin had been too deferential to Gabe. I couldn’t forget the tears in his eyes back at the hotel in Portland.

  I felt a stab of frustration. We had a dead body that had disappeared, a missing woman in a locked room we couldn’t find, and no solid evidence.

  Silence had crept over the square, signaling Gabe and Harmony’s departure, but only after the lights in the main house winked out did Jake let me head back to the women’s dorms. He hugged me tightly before we parted in the square and whispered, “Be careful.”

  “I will.”

  I wondered what time it was. We’d been gone for hours, I was sure. Maybe longer. We hadn’t started sneaking around until after one, and given that sunrise came near five-thirty, and the sky started getting light sometime before that, we might not have much time before everyone woke up. After all, there were cows to be milked, eggs to gather, pigs to slop, horses to feed. In fact, I was pretty sure the sky was getting lighter already.

  As I opened the door to go inside, my worry turned to horror when I caught sight of my nightgown, now streaked with dirt and torn in two places. Not to mention the blood drying on the sleeve. I’d have to stash this some place and wear a T-shirt from now on, taking care to dress after everyone else was in bed so they wouldn’t ask what had happened to the gown.

  It doesn’t matter, I reminded myself. The police are coming, and by tomorrow night I’ll be back in my own bed wearing whatever I want.

  I did need to look at my arm, however, and maybe find something to wrap around my right wrist. Thankfully, I’d seen where Scarlet kept the first aid kit when she bandaged my toe earlier. I felt my way to the bathing room and closed the door behind me, at last flipping on a light that had me blinking at its brightness.

  Retrieving the first aid kit above the rows of cubbies, I pulled down the elastic neck of my granny gown to get a look at the wound. I had to manipulate my arm just right to see a nasty puncture from whatever I’d fallen on. Hopefully nothing that would cause an infection. They had a little antibiotic cream in the first aid kit, but I would really have preferred to use a little comfrey and goldenseal. Since I hadn’t brought anything but Jake’s comfrey salve for my bruised face, I’d have to familiarize myself with their stock of herbs to make a good poultice.

  Not that I’d have much time since Ethan should be back soon with the police.

  I hummed as I wet a rag and wiped the drying blood from my arm, thinking of Ethan and going home. Tawnia and I would laugh about all this someday—after she stopped being angry at me for not leaving the farm sooner.

  I tried not to think of the guard I’d left unconscious in the woods, knowing that he’d come to or be found soon. Instead of worrying about him, I’d be better off using my time praying he wouldn’t recognize me.

  Soft steps came down the hall, the floor boards squeaking softly. Would they pass by or come inside? I scanned the room for a place to hide. But all I could see was the metal tub where I’d bathed, and its position didn’t afford much protection. Better to bluff my way through than to be discovered trying to hide. I held my breath. For a few blessed seconds, it seemed as if the steps would go on past, but as my muscles began to relax, the door cracked open.

  “Who’s here?” Victoria stood in the doorway, blinking at the sudden light. “Autumn? Is that you?” Pause and then a little gasp as her eyes adjusted. “Oh, my goodness, what happened to you?”

  “Nothing. I’m fine. I—uh—I had to go the bathroom. It was dark. I fell.”

  “Oh, you poor thing!” Closing the door behind her, she moved quickly over the space between us. “You should have woken me. I would have taken you.”

  “I didn’t want to be any trouble.”

  “No trouble. I can never sleep past four-thirty even on fast days. I’m too used to being in the kitchen making sure the men have breakfast when they come in from milking. I thought since I was up, I’d start boiling water for baths. We don’t have water heaters here. Yet. They have one at the main house. One of those electric ones that heats water right when you use it. We’ll be getting one here soon.”

  She had taken over cleaning and bandaging my arm. “In the winter we keep a port-a-potty in here for emergencies. It gets really cold, even with our electric heaters. Wow, that must have been some fall,” she added, eyeing my face. “I mean, you had a cut and bruise before, little bit of a black eye, but now it’s much worse. What happened anyway? The first time, I mean.”

  “Spring’s husband was trying to make her go home with him, and I got in the way.”

  “You mean that new girl with the cute baby? I watched him last night while he was sleeping in the kitchen. Darling boy. Her husband wanted her to stay?” She sounded almost envious.

  “He wasn’t finished beating her.”

  “Oh.” Victoria swallowed noisily. “Anyway, you should do something about your face.” She finished the bandage on my arm and pulled me over to the mirror. I stared. The cut on my cheek had ripped open again, there was a spreading bruise on my jaw, and a slew of new scratches. The older bruise under my eye had a new, darker one over it, and purple marks stood out on my throat, deeper than the ones Inclar had left me. I hadn’t remembered any of this during the struggle, but now that I saw it, exhaustion leaked through me, stealing what remained of my energy.

  I turned to her urgently. “Do you have any makeup? I mean, it would cover a little of this at least. I know you don’t wear it now, but you used to, right? Did you bring some with you? Or know someone who did?”

  She nodded. “I’ll show you what we have. We don’t use it much. Well, one of the girls who is sweet on a boy might if she has a pimple or something. Someone always buys a bottle when they go to town.” She reached for a small basket next to a table that held a sewing machine. Inside were a half-dozen used bottles of base and cover-up in differing shades.

  “Thanks, Victoria.”

  She froze, the basket stretched between us. “What did you call me?” Her eyes were anxious, looking small in her bloated face.

  With a sinking feeling, I realized what I’d done.

  “You didn’t fall, did you?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “One of the guards—”

  “No.” She held up a hand to stop the words. “I don’t want to hear.”

  “I’m leaving here soon. I want you to come with me.”

  All the color drained from her face. “I can’t,” she whispered, her eyes darting to the door and back again. “Please don’t let them hear you say that.”

  “They said I could leave any time.”

  Her head shook rapidly, but with so little back and forth movement, I couldn’t tell if she was saying no or if she was having a seizure.

  “Victoria, what’s wrong?”

  “Misty,” she corrected. “And please don’t talk that w
ay.” Her breath came faster now, her ample chest heaving. She was frightened, horribly frightened.

  “Look. I know your name because I talked to your parents. You’re why I’m here.”

  “They sent you?” A new expression flitted over her face, one I almost didn’t recognize as hope. But that’s what it was. Alive one second and gone the next.

  “They’ve never stopped looking for you.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “I—I—” She glanced again toward the door.

  “We’re also looking for a woman named Marcie. She lost her husband and her baby before coming here.”

  If anything, her fear cranked up a notch, becoming pure terror.

  “What is it? Tell me!” I touched her arm, but she pulled away.

  “I have to go.” She started quickly for the door but stopped before she reached it.

  “Please,” I begged. “Talk to me.”

  Without responding, she hurried to a huge armoire next to an old washing machine and pulled out a clean nightgown in the same material as my dirtied one. She threw it in my direction.

  The gown fell at my feet. “I can help you,” I told her.

  “No,” she said, “you can’t. Stay away from me!” With that, she whirled away.

  I stared after her, uncomprehending. If I hadn’t already known something was up, her reaction would have cemented any suspicion. She wanted to leave here, maybe had even tried to escape in the past, but something or someone prevented her from trying again.

  Who? Only Gabe and Korin and Harmony could wield such power here. Or Scarlet. And maybe some of the guards.

  With Victoria knowing my true reason for being here, I now had a new worry. If she told someone, I could be in serious danger. My only hope was that her fear would keep her from doing anything rash until the police arrived.

  First things first—I needed to get cleaned up. If Victoria had awakened, others wouldn’t be far behind. I pulled off the nightgown as quickly as I could and pulled on the clean one. Then I washed my face, blotted it with a towel hanging on a hook, and dabbed on a bit of cover-up. When I was finished, I could tell I had on makeup, but except for the healthy bruise on my jaw, my face didn’t look much different from the day before. Or wouldn’t once the cheek scabbed over again. I’d have to remember to put vitamin E on it every day so it would heal more quickly.

  I used towels to clean the dirt from my legs, silently grateful for the black socks that had protected the bandage on my big toe. The bit of dust and dirt that had crept through the socks was nothing compared to the dust and dirt on the rest of me. I threw the towel in a basket near the sink and left the room, flipping off the light. Feeling my way in the dark, I found the storage closet and stashed my nightgown behind a suitcase on a top shelf. By the time Scarlet discovered it, I’d be long gone. Maybe everyone would be gone.

  Three more creaky boards and I was in my room. Victoria had left the door open, and I was relieved to see her bunk occupied. I’d been worried she’d run outside and blunder into a guard or, worse, go straight to Gabe and Harmony.

  I didn’t realize until I stopped moving how much my body ached, especially my wrist, which I’d wrapped in a rag, twisting it up and around my thumb to immobilize it as best I could.

  Everything at the moment depended on how fast Ethan brought the police and whether or not the guard recognized me.

  “Victoria?” I whispered.

  No answer.

  “I know it might be hard to believe,” I told her, “but somehow I’m going to make sure everything is okay—for both of us.”

  Chapter 18

  It felt as though I’d no sooner closed my eyes than the world exploded into light and movement. Footsteps pounded down the hall, and people called out to one another. Scarlet and someone else were talking loudly outside our open door. I pried open one eye. Essence was still in bed on the other bottom bunk, but even from below, I could see the top one was made, the corners tucked in neatly under the mattress above the slats that held it. My head ached fiercely, but that was nothing a little tea couldn’t help—providing I could find the right herbs.

  “It’s about time you woke up,” Spring said, coming inside the room with her son perched on her hip. She looked better today, though her greenish bruises were still visible. “You must have been tired. Oh, look at your face! It’s even worse today.”

  “Yeah, when I got lost in the forest last night, I fell down pretty hard.”

  Spring nodded. “Things like this always look worse the next day.” Spoken by someone who had reason to know.

  Scarlet had followed her in, her large brown eyes soaking up everything about me. “Child, what’s wrong with your wrist?”

  “Must have happened last night too.”

  Scarlet clucked her sympathy. “You should have told me. I have somethin’ better than that old rag. I keep elastic bandages in a drawer. Come along, now.” Her southern accent was deeper this morning, as though she’d been steeped in southern dreams. I wondered where she came from and how she’d ended up here.

  “Where’s, uh . . . Misty?” I said, forgetting for a moment Victoria’s new name. At least I didn’t call her Victoria, which was an improvement over last night.

  “She’s getting breakfast for the little ones. They don’t fast, of course.”

  My stomach rumbled at the notion of food. After pulling on some jeans and a commune T-shirt, and slipping Jake’s comfrey salve into my pocket, I left my unmade bed and let Scarlet lead me back to the bathing room, where she wrapped my wrist. The pain wasn’t as bad as when I’d first injured it, but the joint felt stiff. When she finished, I rubbed salve into the scratches on my face and touched up the makeup as Spring watched with interest. I offered her some for her own bruises, and she accepted with a smile. She looked young and carefree this morning, the fear gone or at least laid to rest temporarily. I hoped nothing I did at the farm would change that for her.

  “About the fast,” I said to Scarlet, my stomach driving me to distraction, “we can drink, right?”

  “If you want, though many choose not to the first day.”

  “It’s just my headache. I could use some herbs.”

  “Come over to the kitchen. I’ll show you where we keep them.”

  “I’ll come along,” Spring said. “I need to feed Silverstar.” She kissed the boy’s face exuberantly.

  The back door to the main house opened to a large entryway that would have been more usually found in the front of most houses. But then this door was, for all intents and purposes, the main entrance. Across from the entrance I glimpsed a door to a large room with several women inside, but Scarlet turned left down the hall and then veered left again into the huge kitchen. Delicious smells preceded our arrival, making my stomach eager with its protests.

  Two long tables filled much of the available space in the kitchen, their scarred wooden tops showing they were well used—and for more than just eating. A handful of children sat devouring a breakfast of bacon, eggs, and hash browns—all of which, Scarlet informed me, were grown or raised right here on the farm. Cups of foamy milk sat before the children, and I wondered if it was still warm from the morning’s milking. A few vacant places showed where other children had already eaten, their empty plates awaiting removal. A pile of bacon was growing on a plate near Victoria, who stood cooking before an industrial-sized wood stove.

  Light poured in through large windows that faced the back porch and the square. The curtains were open, and I could see men and boys outside, walking around purposefully. A few young girls emerged from the direction of the outhouses. Only two women were tending the smaller children in the square, and I wondered where the rest were and what they were doing.

  My eyes riveted once again on the pile of bacon. I sighed a little too loudly. Victoria glanced at me and then away again.

  “Right here’s the herbs,” Scarlet said, showing me to a row of wooden boxes with a knob on the top of each lid. “They’re all marked. Feel free to use whatev
er you want. We always have a pot of water boilin’ here for tea.” She turned to Spring. “Would this boy like some oatmeal? There’s a pot here, all cooked and ready to go.”

  “I’m sure he would,” Spring said.

  I made myself some feverfew and raspberry tea, and while it was steeping, I made up a comfrey poultice using olive oil as a base and put it on my left arm, rebandaging it. I saved a bit in the bottom of the cup to put on when I changed the bandage again later. Though the police should arrive soon, there would be a long drive back to Portland, and I wanted a head start on healing before Tawnia saw me.

  I was relieved that there were no imprints on the dishes or utensils I used, or on the herb containers, though I hadn’t really expected any. These were mundane objects no one really cared about. I could almost pretend to be normal and that I was at Harmony Farms because I wanted to be.

  Scarlet paused in gathering used dishes from the table. “That’s a great talent you have.”

  For a crazy moment I stiffened, thinking she meant reading imprints, but she was only referring to the herbal remedies, which to me could hardly be called a talent. I’d mixed my own herbs with Summer from my earliest childhood.

  “I could do better steeping it a few weeks and then mixing it with beeswax and a little lavender,” I told Scarlet. “I make all my own salves, poultices, and lip glosses that way.”

  “I can’t wait for you to show us how. Now we mostly just wash and package herbs to sell. We’d have to buy the beeswax, though. That’s one thing we haven’t gotten into yet. We usually trade for our honey.”

  I nodded, my eyes drifting to the pile of bacon Victoria was bringing to the table. What I wouldn’t do for a piece—or ten.

  Scarlet laughed. “It’s mind over body, child. Don’t you worry. We’ll keep you busy. You’ll be proud of yourself once you’re finished.”

  I was pretty sure the only thing I’d be was hungry. I felt as weak as a kitten.

  Classic cult tactics, I thought. Starve the people, work them hard, wear them down. Makes them pliable.

  “Open your mouth, Silverstar,” Spring crooned to her son. “Look, there’s raisins and honey. Yum.”