Biding His Thyme: 4 (2 page)

“Alice promised she’d meet her. Sorrel said
meeting with a man would raise suspicion. One of the other cult women is bound
to notice and report back to the men running the place.”

“Makes sense. What’s your impression of the
woman?”

“Solemn and plain. Not much to look at, and
a bit on the dumpy side,” James said.

”Yeah, but is she telling the truth? Could
she be setting us up?”

James sipped his coffee. “No, I didn’t get
that impression. I think she’s genuine in wanting to get out. She was jumpy.
Keeps looking over her shoulder, and she doesn’t think much of the new leader.
You met him?”

“Yeah, he’s charming, but slimy with it.
You know the sort. I can see him being controlling. What was Alice’s take?”

“She wanted to help and was ready to take
Sorrel home with us then. I’m not such a soft touch.”

Luke shot him a swift glance. “She might be
genuine.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” He checked his watch.
“I’d better go. We have a board meeting this afternoon. I’ll call you the
minute she gets in touch.”

* * * * *

Children of Nature Compound, Sloan

“Excuse me,” Sorrel said, reaching for a
tray. She waited for the last of the men to move along the meal line in the
Children of Nature dining hall. The aroma of fresh, yeasty bread and a savory
soup drifted from the nearby kitchen. Hunger clawed at her, but she kept her
eyes off the women serving the meals.

Instead her gaze flitted around the hall.
It was a large, rectangular room, filled with a dozen trestle tables. Each
table seated twelve people, and most of them were already taken.

A robed man, ahead in the line, turned to
glare at her. “What do you want Sister Bitter? We’re not done eating yet.”

The men and women sitting at the nearest
table stared in open curiosity. They nudged one another, some of the men
sniggering.

“You’ll have to wait,” another ordered. He
eyed her dumpy figure, a smirk forming. “It won’t hurt you to wait. You need to
lose weight.”

“Of course.” Sorrel took a step back,
glancing down at her feet in submission.
Bastards
. Bullies the lot of
them, and Brother Rick encouraged them to pick on her. She hated the changes
since Brother Rick had taken over, the way the men treated the women as
inferiors.

“Bitter, aren’t you almost twenty-five?”
one of the men asked. “No one will want to fuck you. You’re too fat and ugly.”

Sorrel knew better than to show any outward
reaction. It would goad them to greater cruelty. She should be used to the way
they treated her with disdain because of her appearance yet, stars, it hurt.
They thought they were so clever, taking the literal meaning of Sorrel and
using it to taunt her.

Bitter.

Bitter Thyme.

The wit who’d rechristened her Bitter
thought the new name fit so well, he’d told everyone, and the wretched nickname
had stuck.

“Go,” the first man said. “You must have
chores to perform.”

Sorrel blinked once, twice. Tears stung her
eyes, but she refused to let them fall. It would give the men another weapon to
taunt her.

Keeping her head bowed, Sorrel turned away
from the food, ignoring the hunger pangs twisting her stomach. She’d set
herself on this path and mustn’t falter now.

Without thinking about her destination, she
found herself back at the workroom across the other side of the compound, where
she made soap and creams and various other items to sell in the shop in town.
Dried herbs and flowers hung from the ceiling in tight bunches, their colors
faded while their scents perfumed the air with lavender, rose, rosemary and
marigold.

Today she was making lavender bath bombs
and bath salts. Her stomach let out a rumble, the pangs of hunger so bad they
were painful. She hurried to the sink and poured herself a glass of water,
hoping to trick her stomach into thinking it was full. She was halfway through
a second glass before a prickle of awareness identified another presence in her
workroom. Stomach churning, she turned to face the new arrival.

One of the women.

Some of the tension lifted from her
shoulders. “Can I help you with something, Sister Marigold?”

Sister Marigold, the elderly woman who was
in charge of the cult shop, glanced over her shoulder before entering. “I
brought you something to eat.” She extended a piece of fresh bread and a hunk
of cheese. “It’s not right, the way they treat you and make you miss meals.
It’s not right.”

The tears were back again. This time the
emotion was gratitude instead of anger and fear. One small act of kindness was
all it took.

“I don’t want you to get into trouble,”
Sorrel said, but she couldn’t stop herself from reaching for the single slice
of fresh bread. It didn’t matter that she didn’t have butter or jam or a bowl
of soup in which to dunk it.

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take. Most of
the other women agree with me. When you deliver the stock for the shop and the
lunches for the women working there, you’ll find an extra one for you as often
as I can manage it.” She glanced over her shoulder and leaned closer when she
noticed two robed women heading in their direction. “Make sure you eat your
lunch before you get back to the compound.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Sorrel said.

“Quick. Eat before someone comes. Where are
the supplies for the store? I’ll help you to load the handcart.”

No longer protesting her hunger, she
crammed the bread and hard cheese into her mouth, chewing rapidly. The faint
yeastiness of the bread burst on her taste buds, the nuttiness of each bite
following swiftly and contrasting with the sharpness of the cheddar cheese. It
was the best thing she’d tasted for weeks.

“Thank you,” she whispered when she was
done.

“Enough of that. You have friends among the
women. Don’t ever forget it,” Sister Marigold said.

Feeling infinitely happier, the hunger
pangs assuaged for now, Sorrel pushed the handcart through the gates of the
compound.

“Are you sure you can manage, Sister
Sor—Bitter?” one of the men guarding the gates asked.

“Let her go,” the second man said with a
jerk of his head. He was younger, taller, his manner superior, a duplicate of
the other cult males. “Make sure you’re back before dusk.”

“Of course,” she said in her agreeable
tone, not raising her gaze to meet either of the men’s. Women were only fit for
raising children and doing the work around the compound. Inside, her seething
anger grew. Somehow, someway she
would
get away from the cult or die in
the trying.

She shoved the handcart along the track,
the creak of the wheels an accompaniment to her thoughts. She needed to meet
with Alice Bates and find a way to eat the meal Sister Marigold had arranged
for her.

The ruts on the track created the usual
difficulties, but she manhandled the cart over and around, trying to make the
trip to town quicker than normal to give her longer to undertake her own
business. She slowed the handcart as she wheeled past the factory, pausing on
the footpath to let James Bates pull his vehicle into the factory driveway. He
saw her, his head dipping a fraction in acknowledgment.

When she reached the store almost
three-quarters of an hour after leaving the compound, a film of perspiration
coated her skin. Ignoring her discomfort, she pushed the cart around to the
rear of the store and knocked on the door.

“Thank goodness you’re here. I’m starving.”
Sister Jasmine was young and blonde with a curvy figure.

“I’ll unpack your lunches in a moment,”
Sorrel said.

“Let me help you with the supplies,” Sister
Jasmine said. “What have you brought us today?”

Even though Sister Jasmine was popular and
slept with any of the men who asked her, she was also sweet. Sorrel couldn’t
help but like her, but she couldn’t agree with Sister Jasmine’s aim to fulfill
her purpose as a woman and have children.

Brainwashed.

Most of the people who lived at the
compound were under Brother Rick’s spell. They didn’t think twice about obeying
his demands.

Damn, what was wrong with her lately?
Put
this stuff out of your head and focus on the important things.

Freedom.

“I made lavender bath bombs this morning.
Here’s a box.” Sorrel handed them over. “I’ve made some carnation body lotion
and there’s plenty of sea salt and peppermint soap in there. I know that’s been
popular.”

“Super,” Sister Jasmine said. “Do you have
some sample sizes?”

“Of course,” Sorrel said, following Sister
Jasmine into the rear of the store. She set the boxes down and went back for
more. Soon the handcart was empty and the women had their lunches.

“I’m off to collect eucalyptus leaves to
use in my soap. They’re on the other side of town, so I’ll have to hurry
because I need to be back at the farm before dusk.” Not too much information?
Sorrel paused to check the women’s expressions, but none of them bore an ounce
of suspicion. “Is there anything in particular you need me to make this week?”

“The lavender soap is popular, and we’re
almost out of the rose-scented cream,” one of the women said. Her gray hair was
braided and hung down her back, almost reaching past her bottom.

“I’ll make more this week,” Sorrel
promised. “I’ll see you again later in the week.”

“I’ll ask Brother Rick if you can come more
often,” the woman said. “The products are selling well. We need more.”

“I can’t make more and deliver them too,”
Sorrel said.

The woman reached over and patted Sorrel’s
hand. “I’ll talk to Brother Rick. Perhaps he’ll assign you an assistant or
maybe someone else could make the deliveries.”

Alarm surfaced in Sorrel, but she bit back
the hasty words forming on the tip of her tongue. She merely nodded and waved
goodbye.

There were spies everywhere within the
compound. She couldn’t trust anyone—no matter how kind they were to her. An
assistant around her workshop would make her plans for escape more difficult.
It wouldn’t help her ongoing experiments with her special cream either.

Aware of the passing time, Sorrel pushed
her handcart through the town to the stand of eucalyptus trees. Hopefully James
had alerted Alice to her arrival in town.

Once she had the eucalyptus in sight, she
glanced over her shoulder. She was alone. With trembling hands she reached into
her handcart and pulled out a packet of sandwiches.

She unfolded the brown paper and almost
moaned at the wonderful scent when she inspected the contents of the sandwich.
Roast beef. She hadn’t had meat for months. There was never any left when they
allowed her to eat.

She bit into the bread and chewed, despite
the urge to gobble it down. A small plastic bottle of homemade lemon drink and
an apple rounded out her lunch, and she savored every bite.

The sound of a vehicle approaching made her
burst into action. She frantically wiped the crumbs from her mouth and thrust
the bottle under the empty packages in her handcart.

Then, she turned to face the music,
prepared with excuses. Her shoulders slumped with relief when she recognized
the woman climbing from the car. A second woman, tall and blonde, and one she’d
seen with Alice before, climbed from the passenger side.

“I need to collect some eucalyptus leaves
to take back to the farm with me. Can we talk while I pick?” Sorrel asked.

“That’s fine. Have you met Janaya? She’s
married to Luke Morgan, head cop here in Sloan,” Alice said. “Janaya, this is
Sorrel Thyme.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Sorrel forced a
smile at the beautiful blonde woman. Now that Alice had arrived, trepidation
danced a Highland fling through her thoughts. What if this went pear-shaped?
What if someone ended up getting hurt? Brother Rick was capable—no, she
couldn’t think that way. “I’ve brought you a sample of my cream.” After a
furtive glance around the area, Sorrel raised her robe and retrieved a small
tub of cream from a concealed pocket. She handed it to Alice. “I can make
more.”

“The user rubs it where?” Alice asked.

“Breasts and nipples, inner thighs and
labia. The clitoris. There’s nothing in it to hurt or cause an allergic
reaction, but I haven’t used the cream internally. External use seems enough to
cause increased sexual awareness and desire. It should make a woman’s natural
lubrication increase.” Sorrel was proud of her matter-of-fact explanation. Her
cream was a great product—she knew it—and she was counting on her expertise
with herbs, flowers and natural cosmetics to gain her freedom and escape from
Children of Nature.

“Great. I can’t wait to try it,” Alice
said. “Normally I’d get you to sign documents, but we’ll have to work on trust
this time. I give you my word that if this product is something we can use I’ll
help you to leave the cult and give you the full credit you deserve. Janaya,
you’re witness to our verbal agreement.”

“Can I try some too?” Janaya’s violet eyes
glowed with interest. “It sounds fun.”

“Is there enough in the tub for more than
one person?”

Sorrel nodded, excitement and relief
pumping through her now that she’d taken this step.

“We wondered if you could do something for
us in return,” Janaya said.

“Me?” What could she do for these two
women? They looked as if they had everything.

Janaya stared at her intently, her eyes
beautiful and mesmerizing. “My husband wants to get a man into your cult. How
easy is it for someone to join?”

Sorrel gaped at them. “Do they have a head
injury?” Stars, she was trying to get out of the place.

Alice laughed. “No, it’s a serious
question.”

“The cops want a man undercover at the
compound?”

“Yes,” Alice said.

“Yes,” Janaya said.

“What’s going on? No, wait.” Sorrel held up
a hand. “I don’t want to know.”