Had she gone back to her family in Portal? If so, why? She’d been terribly unhappy there….
Still, the girl’s parents wanted her to come home. Maybe they could salvage their relationship. If Courtney wasn’t going to stay in Paradise, she needed their help and support. But Sarah didn’t think Courtney had gone home. Something didn’t feel right. A hush had settled among the Brethren, an uneasiness Sarah had never sensed before—except during the first few days after Martha got away. Once again the men scurried through Paradise with their heads bowed, going to or from the Enlightenment Hall, as if they were deeply worried.
Earlier, Sarah had dared to approach Brother Titherington to ask about Courtney, and he’d barely paused long enough to mumble, “Haven’t seen her.”
“Sister Sarah? Is there something we can do for you?”
Patricia Sellers had spotted her. Patricia was the administrator of the children’s programs and one of the nicest people Sarah had ever met. “I just…I was wondering if Courtney was here.”
“Courtney…?”
“Sinclair. The new girl. She wears black and has lots of piercings?”
“Oh, you mean, Trix.”
Sarah had heard the nickname, knew it was the girl’s own preference, but she hadn’t used it herself. Somehow it didn’t fit Courtney. She wasn’t sure why Courtney thought it did. “Yes.”
“She doesn’t usually come by until after she gets off at the cheese factory.”
“She didn’t go to work,” Sarah explained.
“Perhaps she’s ill.”
“I’ve checked her tent, spoken to the other women who share it with her. They don’t know where she is. They say she never joined them for dinner last night and never rolled out her bed, either.”
“She might’ve stayed at the Enlightenment Hall with the Holy One. He’s been taking a special interest in trying to help her, praise be to God.”
“Yes, praise be to God,” Sarah echoed. But after what she’d witnessed with Sister Martha, Sarah didn’t think she wanted another friend to draw so much of the Holy One’s attention. Although Sarah had been a devout follower of Ethan Wycliff since she’d first heard him speak on the Appalachian Trail near her hometown, he seemed different. Changed.
Or was that her broken heart talking? She couldn’t deny how much it hurt that he scarcely noticed her these days. She supposed now that the church had grown so large, he had other things to worry about than an ugly, scarred woman. But he’d been able to see past her appearance before. At least, he’d made her feel as if he could. And what about the stoning? The bloodlust that’d overtaken the Covenanters when Ethan ordered Martha stoned still horrified Sarah. How could Ethan be the man she’d thought he was, a man she’d compare to any of the great prophets, if he was willing to resort to such violence? Was it true that his actions were sanctioned by God, as everyone said? That God’s punishment was righteous punishment?
Maybe. She didn’t pretend to know God’s mind. But sometimes Ethan didn’t seem Christ-like at all. To Sarah, Martha had been no more deserving of public slaughter than anyone else in Paradise. What had happened to acceptance, tolerance and love? To providing a refuge from the dangers of the world?
Those questions had swirled in her mind ever since she’d helped Martha escape, probably because the answers were so unsettling. If Ethan was wrong in ordering Martha stoned, he wasn’t really holy and the foundation for the religion she’d gladly embraced was a false one. And if he was right, she’d rebelled against him and therefore rebelled against God.
“Is there anything else?” Patricia asked when Sarah didn’t leave.
“No. If you see Courtney, would you tell her I’d like to talk to her? I’d really appreciate it.”
“Of course.” Patricia reached out to squeeze her hand. “You look lovely today.”
“Thank you,” Sarah murmured, but she knew it was one of those kind lies designed to lift her spirits. She hadn’t been pretty since she’d been injured in the house fire that had killed her mother and taken the lives of her younger sister and brother. The terrible burns she’d sustained trying to rescue them had destroyed too much of her face and hands. The skin grafts made her look like a monster. Even the children were frightened of her.
“She’ll be okay,” Patricia called after her.
Sarah had to catch the tent flap so it didn’t hit her in the face. “How do you know?”
Patricia widened her eyes. “Because God will mend her broken heart the way He’s mended yours. The way He mends every heart that turns to Him for solace.”
Embarrassed, Sarah nodded. Patricia hadn’t been speaking of Courtney’s physical welfare. That the girl might be in danger hadn’t even crossed her mind. But it had crossed Sarah’s, and the resulting fear sat like a lump in the middle of her chest. Although she kept telling herself she was crazy to suspect her beloved leader of harming anyone, she kept recalling the triumphant expression on Ethan’s face at the stoning, when Martha’s husband had thrown the first rock and hit her so cruelly on the temple. Martha had become so disenchanted with him that she’d been very vocal about her doubts, only to be stoned days later. Courtney had also been talking, saying things she shouldn’t. Sarah had heard her tell others that Ethan couldn’t be a prophet. She accused him of being a sexual deviant who preyed on the weaknesses of others to cover his own inadequacies. She claimed she had proof that he wasn’t superior to anyone else.
What that proof might be, Sarah didn’t know. She hadn’t asked because she didn’t want to get involved. She was trying to rebuild her faith, not demolish it entirely. She wasn’t convinced Courtney would’ve told her, anyway. When the others had asked, she’d merely laughed and said she’d discovered a secret Ethan wouldn’t want her sharing with the world, and that he’d pay dearly to keep her silent. She said it would be her ticket to the good life somewhere outside Arizona.
Had she gotten what she wanted from Ethan and left?
Sarah happened to pass Bartholomew as she walked back to the cheese factory. He didn’t seem to be in any better mood than the other Spiritual Guides. He was moving slowly, obviously in pain. She had to call to him three times before he looked up.
“Brother Bartholomew!”
As if reluctant to be interrupted, he glanced at the Enlightenment Hall but stopped to address her. “What is it?”