Once Upon a Mail Order Bride - Linda Broday Page 0,118

keep her eyes on the future. She knew she had a reason and a purpose for being in the world. That she had an obligation to leave things in better shape than she’d found them. She hoped she’d left something good and lasting in the short time she’d had.

The cool morning air made her shiver. She wished for a fire instead of the gray ashes. Squawking overhead drew her gaze toward the dawn, and there in formation were three or four dozen geese flying south for the winter. As she stared, they made a design, a loose heart in the sky above.

Ha! Now she was seeing things. Maybe pain and hunger had messed with her head.

As though he’d read her mind, Ezekiel got up and yelled toward his wife. “Woman, cook me something! Have it ready when I get back.” Then he swung his attention to Addie. “We’ll get to the Lord’s business now.”

Panic gripped Addie. Her heart beat so hard it tried to jump out of her chest.

Her mother roused and climbed out from under her shelter. Addie winced at her black eye and new bruises. Ingrid didn’t meet her stare but kept her eyes down as she’d been taught. The man of the house was always superior and must be obeyed with no questions.

Silently, Ingrid lugged a box from the wagon, pulled out a skillet, some potatoes and onions, and a can of lard. Ezekiel kicked her, but not all the blows landed. Ingrid had gotten pretty good at dodging his feet.

She needed to relieve herself but knew not to ask. No, he’d show her no favors. She was an outcast, a sinner of the worst sort, and doomed to die by his hand any moment.

Ezekiel stared at her, picking his teeth. “I found me some water last night while I was chasing after you, girl. The Lord’s commanded me to baptize you, make you clean before we get to the rest. You’re a filthy heathen!” He stood and towered over her with a raised fist. “Living with a bunch of murdering, thieving outlaws. Laying up in bed with one. Letting him touch you and more. Do you carry his whelp?”

“I’d be happy to have his child. Ridge Steele is my husband by anyone’s law, and I love him—” A brutal kick cut her words short. She took the pain inward, swallowing a cry. She stared up at him, her chin raised. “Get it over with. Whatever you have planned, just do it.”

Taunting him might not’ve been the wisest thing to do. He yanked her up by the rope around her neck. The violent wrenching strangled her for a long moment before he loosened the taut hemp cord.

Her mother never spared them a glance, but kept her head down, slicing and stirring.

“It’s time!” he yelled, pulling her along behind him. “God has willed you to die, and die you will. I am His right arm, a light in the wilderness, a brother.”

“You’re crazy!” Addie screamed back. “You’re a crazy, vengeful lunatic!”

She struggled with all her might to stay on her feet. He’d not stop if she fell. Her frantic heartbeat and rapid breathing sent her body into shock. Her head swam, and the ground whirled around her. Where was Ridge? Didn’t he care about her? Was she just someone he’d whiled away time with?

No, he loved her. He’d said so many times. Ridge Steele loved her.

Don’t descend into Ezekiel’s madness.

They reached a pool of water fed by the creek she’d seen the night before. Ezekiel didn’t stop. He walked straight into the pool, pulling her after him. The water only reached his chest by the time he got to the center. If she could stay on her feet, she’d be all right.

But the water inched higher and higher up her chest, and fear held her in its grip.

“Adeline Jancy, I, the New Messiah, cast out this devil that’s inside you.” With that, Ezekiel put his hands on her head and pushed her under.

Addie held her breath, twisted and turned to escape his clutches, but found it impossible to break his hold. Her starved lungs exploded, sending pain through her body. She put her shoulder against his chest and pushed but couldn’t get a grip or budge him.

She worked her wrists with feverish desperation, trying to free them. Her strength was fading. Her air had almost run out.

This watery grave held her bound as sure as quicksand.

She had been born Adeline Jancy, daughter of New Zion’s false messiah. Here