Deceived: Lured from the Truth (Secrets)

by Melody Carlson

  “Sorry to pop in on you like this,” Josiah tells him as we settle in the chairs opposite his desk. “But it is imperative that I speak to you, Uncle Jim.”

  The reverend leans forward now, peering curiously at both of us with troubled dark eyes. “This sounds serious. Is something wrong?”

  “No,” Josiah assures him. “Not wrong exactly. It’s just that Rachel needs a job and a place to live. So I brought her here. I hope that’s all right.”

  Without responding, the reverend looks intently at me, almost as if he’s trying to discover my motives or see into my soul. I feel my cheeks flushing and I wonder if this is a mistake.

  “I told Rachel that we could accommodate her,” Josiah presses on. “And I think Eleanor would like her to help out in the kitchen. Rachel has some experience with that sort of thing. I mean, if it’s all right with you.”

  Now the reverend fixes his gaze on Josiah. “So is that all this is? Rachel is simply looking for work and a place to live? Nothing more?”

  “Certainly, she’s interested in our way of life here. She’s hungry for what you teach at church.” He glances at me. “Right?”

  I nod eagerly. “Yes. Absolutely.”

  “And that is all?” The reverend’s gaze moves from Josiah to me and back to Josiah again … waiting.

  Josiah looks uneasy now. “Yes, of course that’s all. What else would it be?”

  Now the reverend actually begins to chuckle. “I’m sorry, but for some reason I thought you brought her in here to announce that you two wanted to get married.” He laughs louder.

  “Married?” I can’t help but gasp. “Seriously?”

  Josiah just laughs with his uncle, as if that was a pretty good joke. I can’t help but feel slightly offended by this. I’m not even sure why exactly. Is it because of what the reverend assumed or because Josiah thinks it’s so funny?

  The reverend looks back at me now. “How old are you, Rachel?”

  I’m still stuck on the marriage thing … as well as trying to decide how to answer. If I admit I’m seventeen, he might make me leave. On the other hand, it feels wrong to lie to a man of God.

  “She’s eighteen,” Josiah says for me.

  “I’m sorry,” the reverend tells me. “I can see that I caught you off guard with my assumption. But as you get to know me better — and I hope that you will — you’ll come to appreciate that I call it as I see it. And for some reason I got the impression that Josiah and you were here for another reason.”

  He pauses, quietly watching me as if he’s still not convinced we’re not secretly planning to elope. Naturally this makes me nervous. Because, sure, I do like Josiah — perhaps I even love him — but marriage? Seriously?

  “Rachel’s had a rough day,” Josiah says. And now I’m taken aback as he proceeds to tell him about what happened at Nadine’s. It’s not that I don’t want the reverend to know about it, but it’s unsettling hearing it again.

  “So you’re truly innocent?” the reverend asks me.

  I nod. “I honestly am completely innocent. I was totally blindsided by my coworkers.” I sigh. “Although in hindsight, I should’ve seen it coming.” And now he asks me to explain, so I tell him the whole ugly story.

  “Why do you think your coworkers treated you this way?” he asks.

  So I tell him about how I’d been concerned about sanitation and how I had higher work standards.

  “She made them look bad,” Josiah adds. “They resented it.”

  Now the reverend smiles and nods. “Well, as they persecuted our Lord unjustly, so they will persecute us. You should be honored, Rachel.”

  “Honored?”

  “It’s an honor to be persecuted for righteousness’ sake.”

  “Oh.” I nod. “Yes, I do remember reading that in the Bible before.”

  “Are you familiar with the Bible?”

  I tell him a bit about my church history. He asks me a few theological-sounding questions and I do my best to answer, finally admitting that I’m not as well versed in the Bible as I wish.

  “No worries,” he tells me. “That is why we’re here. We will all learn together.” He looks at Josiah. “I think Rachel will be comfortable in Miriam’s cabin.”

  Josiah looks surprised. “Miriam?”

  The reverend puts the tips of his fingers together, almost in a praying posture, and nods. “Yes, Miriam’s influence will be just what Rachel needs.” He smiles at me. “Rachel is a good name. I have a very good feeling about you.”

  For some reason this gives me great hope. “Thank you! And thank you for letting me stay here. I promise to work hard.”

  He nods. “I believe you will.”

  “We’ll let you get back to preparing for the evening service.” Josiah stands and the two of them shake hands.

  “Tell Miriam I’m counting on her to make Rachel feel right at home here,” Reverend Jim says. “If she has any questions, she can come speak to me.”

  Josiah nods. “I’ll do that.”

  Before we leave, I thank the reverend for welcoming me like this. “I already told Josiah, but I felt right at home the first time I came here.”

  “That’s a good sign, Rachel.”

  Walking back to the delivery truck, where my bags are still stashed, I feel a wonderful sense of excitement — as if I’m embarking on a big adventure. I chatter away as we carry my stuff over to the cabin area, but then I notice several young women walking together, and I’m suddenly reminded of how my wardrobe doesn’t exactly fit in here.

  “What about my clothes?” I glance down at my jeans and cringe at how grungy and out of place I look. Even Josiah, still wearing his delivery uniform, looks much nicer and neater than I do. “Will that be a problem?”

  “I’m sure Miriam can help you figure that out,” he tells me. But something about the tone of his voice sounds different. Almost as if he’s not sure about this now. Is he questioning whether or not I can fit in here? Second-guessing himself for bringing me?

  I hold my head high. I will do all I can to convince him that this is not a mistake. I will make him and his uncle proud of me. I can do this. I will do this!

  [CHAPTER 10]

  Miriam works in the dairy,” Josiah explains as we walk. “But her shift should be over by now. Hopefully we’ll find her at home.” He pauses, glancing over his shoulder almost as if to see if anyone is watching us. But the three girls have gone into one of the cabins now. “I need to tell you something,” he says in a hushed tone.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Not exactly. You just need to know that Miriam is … well, she can be a bit cranky if you know what I mean.”

  “A bit cranky?” I can’t help but smile at this.

  “Don’t get me wrong; Miriam is quite devout, but she can be a bit negative and harsh at times. And I don’t want her to drag you down, Rachel. You have such a good spirit.” He reaches his hand out as if he wants to touch my face but then draws it back as if someone could be spying on us. “Don’t let Miriam change that.”

  I nod, trying to absorb all this. “Thank you, Josiah. I’ll keep that in mind.” I give him a confident smile. “And don’t worry. I’m pretty tough. I mean, if you consider the abuse I took at Nadine’s. Miriam can’t be any worse than that, can she? I mean, this is a Christian environment.”

  He shrugs. “Yeah … you’re probably right.” Hoisting the strap of my biggest bag more securely over his other shoulder, he nods over to where a tall, thin woman is stepping outside of one of the cabins. “Speak of the devil,” he says, almost under his breath.

  “What?”

  “Just joking.” He chuckles. “Sorry ’bout that. I know my uncle wouldn’t see the humor in that.” He waves toward the woman with his free hand. “Miriam. Someone I want you to meet over here.”

  As we walk toward Miriam, I’m suddenly reminded of someone but I can’t quite recall who. Then as Josiah introduces us, I get it — with her dark, beady eyes and long, narrow nose, Mir
iam reminds me of the Wicked Witch of the West in The Wizard of Oz. Even her brown hair that’s streaked with gray has a slightly witchlike look. But then she smiles and, grasping my hand, warmly greets me and — poof — the silly witch image completely vanishes.

  “I’ve seen you around and about here,” she says in a sweet voice, which also has an Australian accent. “I’ve been hoping to meet you.”

  “Rachel is going to be with us for a while. My uncle suggested she might be able to stay with you. Do you mind?”

  “If Reverend Jim thinks it’s a good idea, so do I.” She reaches for one of my bags, taking it from Josiah. “I’ve been feeling a bit lonely since Kellie and Brandy left.”

  Josiah seems to bristle at something, glancing at me with a furrowed brow as she reaches for the second bag. “Yes … I suppose you’re ready for a new roommate.”

  “Come on,” she says to me. “Let’s get you settled in. I’m sure you already know that there are no guests here. If you’re part of this community, you’re expected to work. If you don’t work, you don’t eat.”

  “I’m aware of this,” I assure her. “I actually like to work.”

  “Then you’re in the right place.” She slaps me on the back. “Now come on.”

  I glance back to see Josiah still standing there with what seems like a perplexed expression. For the second time I’m worried that he thinks I won’t be able to cut the mustard here. And so I give him a confident wave and a broad smile. “See you later,” I call out as Miriam leads me into her cabin.

  “These cabins look so cozy.” I look around the sparsely furnished room. There are four bunks, each topped with a handmade quilt. There are four small three-drawer pine dressers, four small pine desks, and four wooden chairs. On the floor is a large braided rug in a rainbow of colors. “Did someone make that?”

  Miriam nods. “I did. It’s a way to recycle unneeded clothing.”

  “It’s pretty.”

  “Thank you.” She points to a bed in the far corner. “That’s my bed there. You can select any of the others.”

  I set one of my bags on the bed by the only window. “This one will be fine.”

  “That window can be drafty. You might want to switch come winter. That is if you’re still here by then. Josiah didn’t say how long you intend to stay.”

  Now I feel uneasy. Will they be as friendly and accommodating to me if they know I only plan to be here for the summer? Now that I think about it, nothing was said about the duration of my stay. If they consider me just a visitor, will I be treated differently? Will I even be welcome? Should I pretend that I’m considering staying here indefinitely?

  “How long do you intend on staying?” she presses.

  I smile and shrug. “I guess I’m not really sure. This is all so new to me. I’m still sort of adjusting to everything.”

  She returns my smile. “And there’s no need for me to pressure you. After all, we live one day at a time around here. Tomorrow will take care of itself.”

  “Yes.” I nod eagerly. “I believe that too.”

  Miriam’s lips form a tight line and her dark brows draw together. “However, even if you’re only here for just a day, if you plan to work and be part of our community …” She points to my jeans. “Those will not do at all.” She shakes her head. “Not at all. The Bible makes it clear that women are not to dress like men. And we take that seriously here.”

  “I apologize for my appearance. And I’m aware that I need to wear a dress. Unfortunately, the only dresses I have aren’t very long.”

  She makes a tsk-tsk sound. “That’s simply the way of the world, is it not? Women going around dressed like men or like harlots and not thinking a thing of it. Goodness, when I saw Monique on Sunday — oh my! Thankfully, she was agreeable to burning her clothes.”

  “She burned her clothes?”

  Miriam looks startled. “Certainly.” Now she points to her rug. “Those horrid rags weren’t even worthy of walking upon.”

  I nod. “I do remember being concerned when we picked her up on the highway that evening. I mean, judging by her clothes, she was a little scary.”

  “Thankfully, she has seen the error of her ways.”

  “That’s really amazing.” I smile, but the truth is, I’m still trying to wrap my head around this. I haven’t actually talked to Monique yet. Not since Sunday anyway. But is it possible that she’s really done a complete turnaround? Maybe miracles do still happen.

  “Now, as to your wardrobe needs.” Miriam bends down and pulls open one of the drawers on the dresser near her bed. “I realize I’m a bit taller than you, but perhaps we can make this work.” She pulls out a long plain dress in a nondescript shade of dark blue and holds it up.

  “Oh … ?” I study the drab dress, trying to imagine myself in it.

  “Go ahead, put it on.” She hands the dress to me.

  Suddenly I feel self-conscious, not sure that I want to disrobe in front of this complete stranger. Of course, this is silly considering that I’ve been living in the dorm with women I never knew before, showering and dressing in front of them. However, there is something unsettling about being alone in here. “Do you mind if I change in the bathroom?”

  She frowns. “Is there something you feel a need to hide?”

  “No …” I shake my head. “I guess I’m just a little shy.”

  “All right. This time you can do that. But I don’t want you to start using the bathroom as your private dressing room.”

  I sigh, not wanting to rub her the wrong way. “Okay then. I’ll just change out here.” But I turn my back to her as I remove my clothes. As I struggle to pull the dress over my head, I remember that I’m wearing some rather skimpy underwear. Not skimpy compared to what most girls wear, but I’m sure it’s skimpy compared to what someone like Miriam must wear. Not that I want to think about that. Fortunately, she doesn’t say anything.

  I push my arms through the sleeves, arranging the bodice of the dress around my waist, then turn to look at her.

  “It’s a little long,” she says. “But it won’t be dragging in the dirt. If you want to shorten it a bit, I don’t mind. I doubt I’ll wear it again. Of course, you may not know how to sew.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m appalled at how many girls arrive here and don’t even know how to thread a needle. But that doesn’t last for long. As a matter of fact, I teach the beginner’s sewing classes. Would you like me to sign you up to join us on Thursday night?”

  “I already know how to sew. I’ve been sewing since I was twelve.”

  She looks surprised. “Well, that’s a skill that will be useful around here.”

  “And I can cook too.” I stand taller, feeling thankful for all my years in 4-H.

  “Goodness. Josiah did well to find you, didn’t he?” But now she scowls. “But I do hope you won’t let these skills give you a big head. We are all equals here. No matter how talented or pretty or smart — we show no preferences. It makes no difference. We are all equal and the same in the Lord’s eyes.”

  “Yes, of course. I wasn’t trying to brag.” Okay, maybe I was.

  “So since you won’t be in the beginner’s class, I will sign you up to attend our Saturday-night sewing circle.” She points to the patchwork quilts. “We made all of those. And we make dresses and shirts and curtains and all sorts of good things.”

  “Yes, I’d like to be part of that.”

  “As for your cooking skills, perhaps you’ll want to help in the kitchen.”

  I explain that we’ve already spoken to Eleanor about this very thing. “And Reverend Jim agrees that’ll be a good place for me to work.” I consider telling her about my dream of running a restaurant someday, but that might sound like I’m bragging again. I’ll have to be careful about that.

  “Do you mind if I use the restroom now? I mean, I really have to go.”

  She chuckles. “Well, of course. Go. You don’t need to ask to use that, Rachel.”

  I notice three things about the Spa
rtan bathroom: (1) there is no mirror above the sink, (2) the hand soap appears to be homemade and smells funny, and (3) the hand towel feels like cardboard. As I hang the stiff towel back on the wooden bar, I wonder if this was how the pioneers lived. When I return to the room, I find Miriam going through my bags.

  “The reverend will expect me to show you what’s acceptable here … and what is not.” She points to a small pile on my bed. Only underwear and socks and my T-shirt nightie. Now she places my toothbrush and my hairbrush next to it. “That should do it.” She zips up the bag and turns to me.

  “You’re kidding. What about my shampoo and — ?”

  “You’ll find everything you need in the bathroom.”

  “So … what about my other things?” I point nervously at my bags. Hopefully she’s not planning to burn them.

  “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On your level of commitment.” She studies me closely.

  “I’m not sure what that means.”

  “Yes, it takes some people longer to decide.”

  I just nod.

  “In the meantime, we better get these things into storage.” She picks up one of my smaller bags.

  “Storage?”

  “Don’t worry, they’ll be safe.” She nods to the other bags. “Come on, let’s get moving.”

  I gather up my bags, leaving my purse on my bed.

  “Get that too,” she tells me.

  “But my cell phone is in there.”

  She laughs. “You won’t be needing that.”

  “But I — ”

  “Didn’t Josiah tell you that cell phones are not allowed?”

  “But he has one.”

  “I’m sure he uses one for making deliveries. But I assure you that he doesn’t have one for his personal use.”

  I’m not so sure, but I don’t want to argue with her. Instead I pick up my bags and follow her outside. We walk over to a small building with no windows, and she unlocks a door and tosses my bag in there. “Go ahead and leave your other things here too. If you decide to leave, they’ll be returned to you.”