Biding His Thyme: 4 (7 page)

Yes, Jake Ramsay was a dangerous man.

Despite her disordered thoughts, Sorrel
managed to mix two batches of bath bombs, the scents of cinnamon and cloves,
vanilla and a hint of sandalwood flooding the workshop. She was pressing them
into molds when someone tapped on the door. It opened seconds later and a young
girl peered inside.

“Sister Andrea said I should come and help
you.” Her long hair was confined in the same braid most of the women wore, but
wisps had escaped lending a charming and casual untidiness to her appearance.
Her light blue eyes and rosy cheeks combined with an up-tilted nose gave her
the look of a pixie. Sorrel couldn’t help her return grin.

“Perfect timing, Sister Bernadette,” she
said. “I need this mixture pressed into the molds.” She demonstrated and
watched the girl until she was satisfied she would do a good job. “Perfect.”

The girl pulled a green apple from her
pocket. She glanced over her shoulder, through the door she’d neglected to
close. “Brother Jake told me I should bring you an apple because you didn’t have
time to take lunch today.”

“Thank you.” Sorrel wiped the apple on her
robe, saliva building in her mouth. “I am hungry.” Damning Brother Rick, she
bit into the apple, the small act of rebellion making her bite down with
relish. The tart juices sprang onto her taste buds, the crunch of the crisp
flesh bringing satisfaction. No doubt she’d pay for this, but it was worth it.

She ate the apple in quick bites and tossed
the core into her bin. She set a large pot over the heat and started on a batch
of soap. With the others helping, she’d have time to make a new batch of her
cream.

“I’m back,” Jake said. “What should I do?”

“I have a bucket of ripe mangos. I thought
I’d make more face masks. I need you to peel the fruit and take the flesh off
the stones. It’s such a nice day I’ve set up the table outside.”

Jake gave a quick nod and handed her a
piece of homemade bread. She glanced at Sister Bernadette but the girl was busy
at her task. With a tremulous smile, Sorrel accepted the bread and thrust it in
her pocket.

“Thanks,” she mouthed. “Do you want me to
show you how to stone the mangos?”

“I think you’d better,” he said. Once they
were outside, he said in a low voice, “Thanks for putting me out here. It will
give me a chance to watch everyone, see the comings and goings from the
compound.”

“That’s what I thought.” She demonstrated
what she wanted him to do and left him to it.

“What are you making there?” Sister
Bernadette asked.

“It’s a special hand cream that’s good for
those who suffer from arthritis.” She lied smoothly, having used this excuse in
the past.

Sister Bernadette leaned closer and
sniffed. “It smells nice. What’s the scent?”

“Ylang-ylang, ginger and sandalwood,
mainly.”
And a few other secret ingredients
.

“Can I try some?”

“Of course, although it’s not for everyone,
because some people experience a bad reaction. It causes tingling, a bit like
pins and needles, in some people when they use it.” Sorrel wondered if she
should worry about the smoothness of her lies, although like all the best
liars, hers held a smidgeon of truth. The cream had started out as a cure for
arthritis. It was her mother who’d had the brainwave about two years ago.

“Why do you make it then?”

“Because arthritis is extremely painful and
the cream works for some people.”

“Like Brother James?”

“Yes.” Sorrel scraped the side of her pot
and blew on the spoon. A quick spot test on the back of her hand told her the
cream was at room temperature. “Give me your hand.” She rubbed a little of the
cream on the fleshy part below Sister Bernadette’s thumb.

After a few seconds, the girl jerked her
hand away, her eyes widening. “It’s tingling.”

“If it’s too painful—wash it off.”

“That’s weird,” Sister Bernadette said.
“Brother James uses this on his hands?”

“Yes.”

“Poor man,” Sister Bernadette said. “I’m
going to help him with his meals when I see him struggling.”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that.” Sorrel
turned off the heat and set her spoon aside. “Let me show you how to make some
potpourri sachets.”

By the time the dinner bell went she was
quietly satisfied with the items they’d produced. There was too much for the
two handcarts, which meant she could start stockpiling. She’d worried about how
she’d manage to make more of her cream, but she’d be able to work on another
batch during the evening. No one would think anything of her working long into
the night since she had done it often in the past.

“Can I go now, Sister Bitter?”

“Of course. Would you like to help me for
the rest of the week?”

“Yes, please.” Pleasure suffused Sister
Bernadette’s pixie face, making Sorrel want to sigh. She was so beautiful. The
moment she reached the legal age, the men would pounce. She’d be pregnant and
trapped before she could blink.

“Good, I’ll see you tomorrow after the
lunch hour. Oh, wait. You’ve worked so hard. Let me give you a sachet as a
thank you.”

“Thank you.” With a wave Sister Bernadette
skipped from the workshop. She heard the girl stop to chat with Jake then
silence fell.

“Do you want me to pack away the table?”

“Please, then you can go to dinner.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll go and wash up while the ablution
block is quiet.”

“You’ll miss out on dinner.”

She shrugged, not bothering to tell him
that she missed out on a lot of meals. She’d had an apple and some bread. It
was more than she ate most days.

“I’ll save you something if it looks as if
you’ll miss out.”

“Don’t bother,” Sorrel said, imagining
Brother Rick’s irritation. “If I miss out it will be my fault. At the moment
all I want is a hot shower and to wash my hair.”

“Perhaps I’ll come with you.”

Alarm flared in her. She preferred to bathe
at this time of the day if she could manage it because there were fewer prying
eyes around. “No.”

“Very well,” he said. “I’ll meet you back
here after dinner, if I don’t see you in the dining hall.”

She gave a clipped nod and only relaxed
once he’d departed. Jake might be here to spy on their group, but it didn’t
mean he needed to learn her secrets too.

The woman was up to something. Even if he
hadn’t seen the guilt rush into her face, he’d have known because of his gut
instincts screeching at him. Just as they were telling him Brother Rick was up
to no good.

He’d have to risk leaving Sorrel alone
later tonight to prowl the compound, but there was no way in hell he’d fail her
in the same way he’d let down Greg. As he entered the dining hall, he scanned
for Brother Rick and his particular friends—the ones who’d left the compound
with him the day before.

They weren’t present. Possibly they were
late, but they didn’t arrive while Jake moved up the meal line. Roast lamb
tonight. His image of cults as full of hippy vegetarians had done an abrupt
U-turn since his arrival.

The question was where they obtained their
meat.

When he reached Sister Andrea at the head
of the line, he asked, “Is it possible to save something for Sorrel, a meal I
can take back to the workshop? She needs to work through the dinner hour.”

The woman gave him a cursory glance then
shifted her gaze to someone behind him. Her mouth pulled to a prune-like purse
when the man let out a raucous laugh. Brother Rick was in the building. She
turned her attention back to Jake and gave a decisive nod. “Heard the gossip,”
she said. “About time someone started looking after the girl. Come to the
kitchen door before you go back to Bitter—Sorrel’s workshop. You need to go out
of the dining hall and turn right, taking the passage to the first door. Ask
for me when you get there, but don’t tell anyone what you want.”

Jake nodded at her terse instructions and
moved on before the next person in the line reached Sister Andrea. Maybe he’d
do a little subtle probing about the meat when he went to pick up Sorrel’s
meal.

With his dinner in hand, he glanced around
for a spare seat. The tables with men were all full, so he took possession of
one of the chairs with a group of women. At his arrival they fell silent. Their
expressions ranged from astonishment to outright glares.

“Am I not allowed to sit here?” Jake forced
a smile, one of his most charming. “I promise I don’t bite.”

One of the younger girls recovered her
powers of speech first. She batted her eyelashes in his direction. “Maybe we
like men who bite.”

“Sister Lisa,” one of the older women
admonished.

It did no good, since the rest of the women
giggled. The flirtation spread from Sister Lisa to the rest of the younger girls,
and Jake belatedly realized he should’ve kept the charm zipped. He didn’t want
to attract so much attention he wasn’t able to skulk around the compound
unnoticed.

“Is the gossip true?” Sister Lisa leaned
over allowing the bodice of her robe to gape. “Did Brother Rick walk in on you
and Sister Bitter kissing?”

Bloody hell
.
Jake picked up his knife and fork, holding his anger close. If any of the women
bothered to check his hands they’d notice the bloodless knuckles. None of the
men or women called Sorrel by her name. It was always Bitter. No wonder Sorrel
craved freedom.

“I knew it couldn’t be true,” Sister Lisa
said. “She is very plain.”

“She has a good heart.” Jake fumed while
eating his dinner. He wanted to say a lot of things. He said none. Instead he
pondered the questions he needed answering. “I’m interested in learning about
the farming side of Children of Nature,” he said. “Tell me about the animals
you have here.”

The women basked under his attention. Their
fawning made him feel uneasy, slightly unclean. Their roving gazes didn’t help.
Maybe he’d take a shower after dinner to cleanse off some of the drool.

“We have sheep and pigs. We keep chooks and
sell eggs at the market,” one of the sisters said.

“What about cattle?”

“No,” Sister Lisa said. “We don’t have
enough land to support larger stock. We don’t have cattle or horses. I sure
wish we could get some alpacas. They’re so much cuter.”

“Maybe we should suggest alpacas at the
next community meeting. The fleeces make beautiful clothes,” one of the women
said.

Jake let the talk drift over him. He’d
learned the cult didn’t have their own cattle, which begged several questions.
Where had the beef they’d eaten for dinner the previous evening come from? Had
they paid for it?

The cult prided themselves on
self-sufficiency. Of course they might trade.

“What’s for pudding tonight?”one of the
women asked.

“I heard it was sticky date pudding and
custard. I’m off to see if the rumor is true,” another said. The rolls of fat
beneath her robe rippled when she waddled past.

Jake eyed her for a few seconds longer,
wondering how come she got to eat when Brother Rick wouldn’t let Sorrel eat
three meals a day.

He finished his meal and took his dirty
plate to the collection point. Deciding to pass on dessert, he left the dining
room. The door to the kitchen stood open, a blast of steamy heat slapping him
in the face when he stepped inside.

“Here you go, Brother Jake,” Sister Andrea
said when she saw him. She handed over a square box.

“Thanks. Do we grow all the produce and
meat here at the compound?”

“Yes, we’re totally self-sufficient. We do
a little bartering with the local farmers. That’s where Brother Rick obtained
the beef we had for dinner last night.”

“And very delicious it was too.” Bah, lies.
Beef was expensive, especially the finer cuts. Besides, what could the cult
exchange that was equal value? His mind drifted to bliss cakes and drugs. He
could hardly imagine the farmers Luke had described dealing in drugs, although
stranger things had happened. “Thanks again for this.” With a wave, he turned
away, making sure to limp.

Back at the workshop, Sorrel was making
another batch of soap. Her hair was damp and she’d tied it back in a high
ponytail instead of her normal braid. She’d changed robes since this one didn’t
bear the same splatters he’d noted before he left for dinner. There was a
strange smell, sort of metallic and verging toward unpleasant. After shutting
the door, he moved closer, no longer limping since he was out of sight of
everyone else.

“Sister Andrea packed a dinner for you,” he
said, thrusting the box at her. “I’ll stir the soap while you eat.”

Shock flashed across her face. She stared
at him, her blue eyes wide and unsure before her gaze darted to the box.
Slowly, she reached out to accept it, her stomach letting out a rumble of
hunger. Her expression turned sheepish. “Thanks.”

The look of vulnerability flickering across
her face tugged at him, made him angry and off-balance. He didn’t understand
why everyone treated her like a dog turd when she worked hard to help to
support the cult. There were individuals who didn’t think the same way in
private, yet when they were in the company of other cult members they followed
Brother Rick’s lead like well-trained sheep dogs.

He stirred the pot with the soap, dragging
the spoon across the bottom as she’d shown him earlier. “This is almost melted.
What do you want me to add?”

She swallowed a mouthful, dabbing the
corner of her mouth with a linen cloth. “Measure out three cups of oatmeal and
one tablespoon of the vanilla perfume oil.”

Jake followed her instructions, sniffing at
the mixture in the pot. This wasn’t the smell. “This looks integrated. Should I
pour it into the molds?”

“Please. Don’t fill the molds all the way
to the top. Leave a few millimeters so that we can add some toasted oats for
decoration.”

Jake took the pot off the heat and poured
it into the square molds she’d already set out. His friends would die laughing
if they could see him, but he kind of enjoyed the process of making things.

She finished eating, but didn’t jump up to
take over. “Good. Now sprinkle enough of the oat mix on top to cover the soap.
Yes, like that. Perfect.”

Once he’d finished, he set the pot aside in
the industrial size sink, ready for washing. He cleaned the workspace as she’d
shown him and put the tubs of raw ingredients back on the shelf. “What else are
you going to do tonight?”

“The bath salts seem to be going well. I’ll
make a quick batch of chocolate bath salts and call it a night.”

When she stood and moved past him, he caught
a whiff of the same metallic stench. “Why do you color your hair?” The minute
he uttered the words, things started to click—the turn of lock when a puzzle
slotted together in the right way. A rush of success, of intrigue and curiosity
simmered in him, and he hesitated in light of the knowledge although he
suspected the reasons for her subterfuge. “Come here.”

Sorrel stared at him, shock striking her as
she acknowledged the order, yet didn’t act on it. He knew. He’d guessed her
secret.

Panic bloomed then, and the hard, rapid
knock of her heart trying to claw out of her chest. She took half a step toward
the door.

“Sorrel.”

“What?”Alarm yanked her from her normal
subservient manner. He knew. The question was what did he intend to do with the
knowledge.

“Come here.”

An order, and she found herself taking a
step before her brain processed the instruction and issued an alternative. She
came to an abrupt stop.

“No problem,” he said, this time his voice
silky, a little menacing.

Oh stars. He couldn’t turn on her. He
couldn’t impart his knowledge to Brother Rick. He couldn’t. But she knew human
nature, knew him for a soldier. Would he offer up the information in order to
get closer to completing his undercover assignment?

He stalked the distance separating them,
and terror multiplied inside her like a virulent strain of bacteria. She
certainly felt ill, the dinner she’d eaten churning in the pit of her stomach.
Self-preservation roared to life. She took a rapid step back to find herself
trapped against one of her workbenches. He was on her in seconds, his large
frame blocking her departure, his arms caging her in place.

“Wh-what do you think you’re doing? I need
to go to the restrooms.”

“I don’t think so, sweetheart.” He leaned
over, reducing the space between them. Her pulse raced, but she couldn’t avert
her gaze, trapped as she was by his dark gaze. For a moment, she thought he was
going to kiss her like he had before. She listened, but couldn’t hear the
approach of footsteps, couldn’t hear the arrival of rescue.

Jake continued to stare, his chest pressed
against her breasts. She could feel him, even through her robe—the heat of his
bigger frame, the hard muscles. Although the man was on the thin side, he was
strong. Already with regular meals, the healthy air and exercise had made a
difference.

Stars, not helping
. “This isn’t funny, Jake. Let me go.”

“Ah, sweetheart. You’re full of secrets,
aren’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His head dipped again. Her eyes fluttered
closed and she tilted her head up a fraction. She shouldn’t want him to kiss
her. It was wrong yet she craved his lips on hers again, had thought about him
during her shower. The urge for physical contact ate at her, the desire to feel
normal like one of the couples she saw during her trips to the town, like Alice
and her husband James.

Time passed and still his lips didn’t touch
hers. She swallowed and opened her eyes enough to peek through her lashes. She
discovered him studying her intently. His grin widened, and he sniffed her hair.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” He pressed a kiss to her
forehead, and while she gaped at him, he kissed her lips. Unlike their first
kiss, this one contained no preliminaries. A hot, hard masculine mouth feasted
on hers, his tongue slipping between her lips and taking the contact deeper
into sensual territory. His taste roared through her. His touch as he pressed
her against him, locking his hands against her hips. She moaned, gasping for
breath yet not wanting him to stop.

When he lifted her head, his eyes
glittered. “What color is your hair?”

“Huh?”

“You’re covered in padding beneath your
robe. Your face is blotchy in a different place than it was earlier and your
hair smells of some sort of dye. You’re deliberately making yourself look ugly.
I presume it’s to keep under of radar of the men here in the compound.”

“You have no idea what it’s like living
here.”

“You could have left.”

“I’m trying to leave. I have to get it
right the first time, because I’ll never get a second opportunity.”

“So you put up with everyone treating you
like shit. You put up with missing meals because Brother Rick wants to punish
you for whatever reason. All that so you get your precious freedom.”

“You’re a man. You have no idea what it’s
like.”

“We’re going to get you out of here. I’ve
promised you already, and I mean to keep my word. Are you done here for
tonight?”

“I suppose the bath salts can wait until
tomorrow.” He still hadn’t released her, not that she wanted him too.

“I want to explore more of the compound. If
you come with me we can tell anyone who catches us we’ve gone off for some
privacy. The quicker I find what I’m looking for the sooner we can both leave.”

“You’re taking me with you?”

“I’m not leaving you here,” Jake said, his
grasp tightening around her. His head dipped and he kissed her again. This time
was slow and deliberate, and she felt the echo in her sex. By the time he
lifted her head, she fought for breath and her entire body hummed with
pleasure. For the first time in her life, a man tempted her, and she didn’t
know if she should deck him or draw him closer for another kiss. He pulled away
and offered her his hand. “Are you ready to act the courting couple?”

“Where do you want to explore first?”

“We’ll wander to the tree line. I want to
check the boundaries on the north side of the compound. Sister Andrea said the
beef was bartered with one of the local farmers. That’s a lie. According to
Luke Morgan none of the local farmers have dealings with Brother Rick or anyone
else here at the compound.”