Heartfield Ranch (Communities of Discipline Book 2) (5 page)

“What’s up?” Jake Markum was fitting together piping for a hydroponics project when Clay walked in. “You look troubled. Doesn’t have anything to do with the new visitor, does it?”

Clay shook his head and laughed. “Word travels fast.”

“Yes it does,” Jake replied.

Clay leaned against the workbench and watched Jake snap the fittings on another piece of tube. “She just asks an awful lot of questions, and in the manner of someone who doesn’t want to appear to be asking an awful lot of questions, if you catch my drift.”

Jake raised an eyebrow. “Journalist?”

Clay shrugged. “Dunno.”

“Why’d you bring her if you weren’t sure?” Jake picked up another piece of tubing. “Does it have anything to do with the fact that she’s so pretty?”

“Had more to do with the fact that she was stranded on the road, although being pretty certainly would have made her harder to leave.”

Jake laughed. “Want some advice?”

“Always,” Clay replied.

“There’s no need to be paranoid, Clay. We’ve all kind of decided that. If someone wants to find out about what goes on in here, it’s not that hard, especially with our commitment to helping others. It’s OK to be guarded, but don’t be surprised if someone you extend a hand to doesn’t turn around and bite it.”

“She was especially interested in the fact that women here live like they do; it seemed hard for her to get her mind around the idea that they are disciplined and subject to male authority.”

“Did you tell her she’d have to answer to one of us while she was here?”

“Yes,” Clay replied. “Me.”

“You?” Jake looked surprised. “That’s a departure. You usually outsource that to someone else. Why not this time?”

Clay looked past him and was silent for a moment. “I really don’t know, he admitted. “I just felt led to do it.” He paused. “She’s with Ann Marie.”

“Is she now?” The men were both silent now. When Ann Marie had arrived at Heartfield, she’d practically begged to be taken in. She’d told the men at the start that she was well aware of the rumored practices of the community and had no problem with what they practiced. Jake had become her guardian initially, and later the two had fallen in love and had gotten married. Ann Marie’s managerial knack and way with animals had made her an asset to the community, but she was regularly bombarded with letters from her parents - letters she refused to open. She’d confided in Clay about the overbearing nature of her parents, and how she’d felt compelled to break away and come to Heartfield. But she’d often fretted to anyone who would listen that they may try and make her leave, even if it meant bringing down the community in some way. Some worried that a rich, powerful family might send someone to infiltrate the group and a debate had ensued among some about whether  Ann Marie’s presence compromised the security of the group. But in the end it was decided that Ann Marie could not be blamed for her parents’ actions, and that the leadership would not become exclusive out of fear. Those needing help or sincerely seeking the kind of lifestyle Heartfield offered were welcome to stay either temporarily or permanently if they choose. But neither Clay nor Jake could help but wonder if this new woman they knew as Betty wasn’t working for the Fales. It was a suspicion they had about every newcomer, but few had asked so many questions right off the bat.

“And I suppose you want me to ask Ann Marie if she got any weird vibes from her?” he asked.

“Would you mind?” Clay asked. “I’d like to know as much about this gal as I can.”

“Seeing how you seem to have taken a personal interest in her, I can’t understand why.” Jake said mockingly.

Clay smirked but said nothing.

***

While Clay and Jake were discussing their new visitor, Karen was wondering how an obviously intelligent woman like Ann Marie could swap the power and prestige of the corporate world for a life of submission and menial farm chores. But she could not deny the obvious contentment the other woman displayed as she moved throughout the barn, introducing her to the animals and explaining what needed to be done for them.

“These are the chicks.” Ann Marie lifted the lid of a box heated by a light bulb secured to one of the inside walls. As she did, a group of fluffy, peeping chickens raced to the other end of the brooder. “They’re just a few days old and as they grow we’ll determine which will become layers and which will go in the freezer. We have to make sure they have food and water at all times. It’s amazing how fast they eat and drink.”

She closed the brooder. “And that’s pretty much everything.”

“It’s a lot of work,” Karen said, shaking her head. “It’s funny. I grew up looking forward to leaving a farm and getting a job and here are a bunch of people traveling here for what I couldn’t wait to escape.”

Ann Marie laughed. “You’re talking to one,” she said. “I’m entirely sure this wasn’t the life my parents envisioned for me.” She grew quiet.

“So what do they think of your living here at Heartfield?” Karen felt a slight twinge of guilt over her feigned ignorance. She already knew what Ann Marie’s parents thought.

“I don’t know. I haven’t talked to them since I got here,” Ann Marie looked slightly embarrassed at the admission.

“Why?”

Ann Marie smiled sadly. “No need to,” she replied. “I know they’d tell me this place is wrong, bad, whatever. They’d try to get me to leave. So really there’s nothing to say.”

“Why would they think it’s bad?” Karen asked. “You seem happy.”

“Because I’m not supposed to be happy living like this.”

“That doesn’t make much sense,” Karen coaxed. “Lots of people like living a rural lifestyle.”

They were walking toward the back of the barn now, to the feed room. “It’s not the farming that bothers them, well my mother actually…” Ann Marie’s voice trailed off. “It’s more the values here.”

“You mean the role of women?” Karen looked over at Ann Marie, who looked back in surprise.

“Clay explained everything to me.” Karen stopped and turned to face her companion. “He sort of had to. I heard one of the women being…”

“Corrected?” asked Ann Marie. “It happens. And we accept that. And no, my mother could not accept that. She raised me to be like her, an old school feminist. You know, the old ‘a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle’ mentality. Marriages should at best be political arrangements in her eyes. She never understood that I didn’t see things her way, that what made her happy would have made me miserable.” She looked away. “I’m a failure in her eyes.”

“Are you happy answering to someone else after the kind of work you did before you came here?”

Ann Marie studied her face for a moment. “I don’t remember telling you what I did,” she said.

Karen blushed, feeling angry with herself. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I just assumed you did some kind of work in the city.”

Ann Marie held her gaze, then shrugged. “Yeah, I can see why you’d assume that,” she said as Karen breathed a sigh of relief at the close call. The pair turned and walked to the feed room.

As they were filling buckets with grain for the goats, Karen noticed a door with a lock on it. Wallking over, she studied it, noting it was the only lock she’d seen on the place.

“What’s in here?” she asked.

“Dangerous stuff,” Ann Marie said. “It’s locked for a reason.”

“You girls having fun?” Clay was standing in the doorway, and Karen jumped at the sound of his voice.

“Sure,” Ann Marie said. “I’m just showing her what needs to be done.”

“Well finish up quick,” Clay said. “A storm’s coming. The weather radio just went off. It looks to be a bad one. We all need to get into the main hall as quickly as we can.”

“All right.” Ann Marie turned back to Karen. “We need to hurry. The main hall is the only building with a basement.”

They rushed to put the animals away, and as they were preparing to head to the hall, Karen felt in her pocket for her cell phone. She needed to call in, just to let Clemmons or Jarvis know she was safe and that she’d found Ann Marie. Earlier in the morning she had tried to call from her room at the Wickam’s, but had gotten a no service signal. Now with the whole community distracted, she’d have an opportunity to get away for a moment. Surely they wouldn’t notice her absence.

“I’ll be along in a minute,” said Karen once they left the barn. “I have a pebble in my shoe.”

“I can wait,” said Ann Marie.

“No, go on.” Karen bent down to fiddle with her shoe and Ann Marie walked ahead. Glancing around, she looked to see if anyone else was around, but she was alone. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she turned it on, groaning in frustration when she saw the signal was no better in the barn.

Karen looked towards the left side of the compound. Perhaps if she went farther out, closer to town, she could get a signal. Sometimes a few hundred yards could make a difference. Glancing toward the hall, she could see people filing in as the winds began to strengthen. Over her head the sky was ominously dark. Early spring brought dangerous storms to the area, and some of them could be severe. Karen felt she needed to check in just in case the landline phone service became disrupted. She wanted her bosses to know that she was OK, that she had not only found Ann Marie but also a locked room that contained “something dangerous.” She suspected weapons.

She ran towards an open field, looking at her phone every few minutes. The screen still read ‘No Service’ and now the wind was blowing even harder. From somewhere behind her she heard a crash.

Just a little bit farther
, she told herself.
Just a little bit farther and if it doesn’t work I’ll try later.

The sky lit up with lightning and she ducked, suddenly afraid. She was out in the field now and the storm was on top of her. She looked up at the roiling crowds, greenish now and swirling overhead. A drop of rain hit her in the face, and she turned to run for the cover of a tree. But she didn’t get far. Something hit her, and she didn’t see what it was until the tire that knocked her legs out from under her rolled on past, bounced along by the force of the wind. The phone flew out of Karen’s hand and she landed in the dirt as hail began to pelt her back. She was afraid now, out there, unprotected. Around her she could hear the sound of things being blown about, of branches snapping in the distance. She scrambled to her feet, and stumbled towards the tree, limping as she ran on her bruised leg.

Then she heard something else, the sound of someone calling.

“Betty! Betty!” It didn’t occur to her that they were calling for her, even when the voice’s owner was beside her, his hand on her shoulder as he spun her to face him.

It was Clay.

“What in the world are you doing?”  His expression was both angry and concerned. “There’s a tornado coming!”

Karen looked at him, unable to find an answer. But he wasn’t about to wait for one even if she’d had it to give.

“Come on!” he yelled, and began to pull her along but stopped when he realized she was limping.

“I hurt my leg,” she said.

With a groan of irritation, he picked her up as if she were nothing and –cradling her in his arms – ran. Hailstones were slamming against them now, and Karen marveled at how he could run as fast as he did with the wind whipping and the burden of her body in his arms.

“I don’t think we’re going to make it to the hall,” he yelled, and turned to sprint toward the barn. He put her down and pulled on the door, which nearly refused to budge against the force of the wind against it. With a groan he pried it open and pulled Karen inside.

The sound of hailstones pelting the barn was earsplitting as the door slammed shut, and Karen wrapped her arms around her body to try and stop the shivering that had overtaken her.

“Come on. We need to get to the feed room. It’s the strongest part of the barn.” Clay took her hand and Karen went along, still limping a bit on her sore leg.

Once inside, she sat down on a feedbag and looked up at the roof, as if expecting it to blow off at any moment.

“Let me take a look at your leg.” Clay was approaching her now.

“It’s fine, really,” she said, but changed her mind when she noted the look of grim irritation on his face. This was not a man to be trifled with.

She stretched out her leg. “It’s fine,” she repeated, but he ignored her as he ran his hand up and down first her calf then her thigh, feeling for broken bones and asking her if it hurt when he squeezed certain areas. She winced but shook her head at each question.

“It’s just bruised,” he finally announced. You’re lucky.” He paused, and looked at her. “So you want to tell me what on earth possessed you to run out into the field during a storm?”

Karen paused, her dazed mind trying to come up with a plausible answer.

“Betty?”

She looked at him and looked away. “I-I don’t know.”

“I think you do,” he said. He reached into his pocket. “You dropped this out there.”

Karen looked down to see he was holding her iPhone cell phone.