Heartfield Ranch (Communities of Discipline Book 2) (8 page)

“So she didn’t see anything out of the ordinary?” Sheriff Phil Smith furrowed his brow. “Nothing at all?”

“Not yet.” Capt. Clemmons shook his head.

“Damn.” The sheriff sat back in his chair, rubbing his chin. Harlan and Melissa Fales weren’t going to like this. He was scheduled to meet with them that very afternoon and had wanted the kind of progress report that would generate hope for them along with a fat check for his campaign coffers.

He sat up and moved the chair forward, planting his elbows on his desk. “Well you tell Patterson that she needs to keep digging, and digging hard. Folks don’t lock themselves away like those Heartfielders unless they’ve got something to hide.”

“Not necessarily,” Clemmons responded. “Maybe they just wanted to get out of the rat race.”

The sheriff glared. “You arguing with me, Clemmons?”

The captain sighed. “No sir,” he said. “It’s just that…”

“It’s just nothing.” The sheriff stood and began to pace. “Like I said, people who drop out of society generally do it because they don’t want to follow the rules. Sure, they may start out with some utopian-pie-in-the-sky-peace-and-love goal, but take it from me - sooner or later they get a notion that a compound is a kingdom. Then they start to get paranoid and start stifling freedoms and stockpiling weapons. If that’s happening under our noses then I want to know about it.”

Sheriff Smith stopped and stared hard at Clemmons. “And anyone who doesn’t agree can mull that mistake while they’re reading parking meters on Main Street, got it?”

Clemmons nodded, stood and exited the room with Sgt. Jarvis.

“Well that was real swift of you,” Jarvis said. “You know damn good and well what’s driving this.”

“Yep, the campaign.” Clemmons snorted. “And that Melissa Fales and the checkbook she keeps dangling in front of the boss’s face. Shit, I hate the way money is affecting this office. It didn’t used to be like this.”

“No, it didn’t, and if you ask me I won’t be too unhappy if Smith gets his skinny ass handed to him by Rupert Harrell.

Rupert Harrell, a former state trooper, had filed late for the office – on the day of the deadline in fact. His entrance into the race surprised everyone, but no one was more surprised than Smith, who had run unopposed during the last two elections. In fact, he was so confident of his unopposed incumbent status that he hadn’t even thought of funding his campaign. So when Harrell began to get support and donations, Smith panicked.

The Fales entered the picture shortly afterward and pledged their loyal support, provided Sheriff Smith found a way to get their daughter back home.

For Smith, busting up Heartfield would achieve two objectives – it would rehabilitate his image and shake the perception that he had grown soft and complacent in office while guaranteeing a flood of donations from the Fales and others. Those who worked for the sheriff knew the pressure he was under, and realized that he was watching their every move.

“So when was the last time you talked to Karen?” Jarvis asked.

“A couple of days ago.” The men were back at their desks now, and Clemmons put a piece of gum into his mouth.

“So how’s it going?” Jarvis asked.

Clemmons sat in his chair and popped the gum loudly, laughing as the secretary across the room jumped at the sound.

“OK, I guess,” he said. “So far the people in Heartfield don’t suspect a thing.”

***

Karen paced nervously in the Wickham’s cabin. Clay had not come back after the meeting. What had been decided about her future in Heartfield? From time to time Lynette Wickham looked up from where she was feeding her baby, her eyes brimming with concern.

“Don’t worry so much,” she said. “They’re an understanding bunch, the men. I’m sure they’ll weigh all the options.”

Karen stopped walking and smiled, embarrassed. “Am I so obvious?”

“Like a big red truck.”

The two women giggled, then Karen turned serious.

“I feel bad,” she said. “I mean, I asked Clay if I could stay and it put him on the spot. I didn’t mean to get him in trouble with the others.”  Karen had been nearly overwhelmed with guilt since Clay had come to her and told her about the emergency men’s meeting. She knew that Clay had enough on his plate as the group’s undeclared leader. He didn’t need this kind of headache.

“Don’t worry about Clay.” Lynette picked the baby up and wiped his face with a wet washcloth. “He can take care of himself.”

Karen looked out toward the meeting hall. Through the windows she could see the figures of the men rising now and heading to the door. Her eyes scanned the departing crowd nervously until she saw Clay, who came out last flanked by Adam and Lynette’s husband, Randy.

“They’re finished,” she said.

Lynette walked over and looked out. “Everyone looks pleased,” she said, giving Karen’s arm a nudge. Karen looked over to see Lynette smile. “Even Clay.”

But for Karen, it was too much to hope for, and she couldn’t feel at ease until she knew not only that she could stay, but that her presence wouldn’t cause problems. She could no longer deny her growing feelings for Clay, but told herself that she could not let things get too personal. She was a sworn officer of the law, after all, and her superiors were still depending on her to investigate the compound. So what if they didn’t know her cover had been blown? Her curiosity was as much personal as professional at this point. Once she satisfied herself that nothing unusual was going on at Heartfield aside from some unconventional – or ultra-traditional – views, she would pen a report putting the matter to rest. And then what? Go back to her life as a lonely professional. Or maybe, just maybe…

Karen imagined herself living among them but quickly pushed the thought from her head. No, she couldn’t do that. To join Heartfield – even if they let her – would be to betray the gains she and other women had worked for.

Karen was dwelling on the internal conflict when Clay and Randy walked through the door. She crossed her arms across her chest as they entered, and only managed one, hopeful word.

“Well?” she asked softly.

“It was a rousing debate,” Clay said, “but ultimately the men decided that you are welcome here. But just as a visitor.

Karen breathed a sigh of relief.

“But just so you know, you’re still under my authority and protection, Karen. Get out of line and there will be consequences.” He raised both eyebrows and placed his hands on his hips. “Do you understand that?”

She nodded. For some reason, the words sent a thrill through her, but she didn’t have time to reflect much on it before he was asking her another question.

“More importantly, do you accept it?”

Again she nodded. “You explained it the first day, Clay. I told you I understood then and I still understand.” She looked down, blushing. “If anything, I understand it even more.”

Randy spoke up now. “There’s still a good deal of suspicion about your motives, so if you’re lying to him, Karen, then there could be a backlash not just against Clay but against me and Lynette here since we’re allowing you to stay with us.”

“I’m not lying,” she said, her tone slightly defensive.

Clay rubbed his chin. “I hadn’t thought about that. Maybe I should have her stay in my cabin.”

But Lynette shook her head. “That would only cause more resentment, Clay. You know the rules because you made them. Unmarried women don’t cohabitate with unmarried men. Remember?”

Clay had the good grace to look embarrassed. “I was just trying to make things easier,” he said.

Lynette smiled. “If you want to make things easier, Clay, then just trust your judgment and stop worrying so. Worry lays the seeds of doubt, and those just make us all more insecure.”

Randy walked over and gave his wife a hug. “Wise words, my dear.”

Clay looked over to see that the baby had fallen asleep on the couch and noticing the way Randy and Lynette were staring at each other, decided they could use some privacy. Turning to Karen, he took her gently by the arm.

“What do you say to a walk?” he asked.

***

“It’s really beautiful out here.” Karen’s voice was wistful as she watched the sun setting over the distant hills. She and Clay were standing on the edge of a lake, its mirror smooth surface reflecting the dusky sky.

“Well, we wanted a place as pure and unspoiled as our intentions, flowery though that may sound,” Clay replied. “We felt the Lord led us to this place.”

“Do you think it can last, though?” Karen asked. “I mean, do you ever worry that the women will…I dunno…outgrow the need for discipline? That they might rebel?”

Clay shook his head. “I could see that happen if we were marrying underage girls, but we don’t accept minors here, and are careful to screen men and women who express interest in our lifestyle. The women who come here want this lifestyle as much as we do. If they change their mind, they’re free to go. But they like the system. It’s effective. ”

“Not effective enough to survive the continuing lure of outside progress?” Karen felt reckless playing devil’s advocate, but couldn’t stop herself. In her own way, she was testing Clay. But she also knew he was somehow expecting her to.

“There’s been a lot of systems that were effective that haven’t survived,” he said. “Look at the Native Americans and the way they treated the land and the animals. It was remarkably simple, and remarkably logical. Take no more than you need. Respect nature for what it gives you. Leave a small footprint. That way of life was also destroyed by what you call ‘progress.’ Makes you wonder whether it was progress at all.”

“But the question is,” she said, “whether or not we can truly go back in time. I mean, if society as a whole fails to return to those principles, what difference does it make?”

Clay turned to her and smiled. “Society is lost,” he said. “You can’t control what the masses do. You can only control your own destiny. For Heartfielders, this is it.”

He knelt and picked up a stone, throwing it at a perfect parallel angle to the water. A split second later, it began to skip, sending perfect ripples all the way to the shore.

For a moment they sat in shared silence before Clay finally turned to her. He noted that her skin was already taking on the same sunkissed hue of some of the other women. Farm work agreed with the pretty police officer. But did all of Heartfield’s ways?

“Let me ask you a question, Officer Patterson.”

“Shoot,” she said, not looking at him.

“Do you find anything personally appealing about our lifestyle, even if it’s not something you want to admit?”

Now she did look at him. “It’s novel,” she said. “And on the face of it, I can understand the appeal. I won’t lie. It’s hard to be a woman in today’s modern society. You’ve got to work twice as hard to get half the credit. I’m lucky to work with a group of guys who respect me, but it wasn’t always like that. There were times when I wanted to just throw in the towel. So the idea of just playing house and letting some man support me and make all the decisions – of knowing I have that option – has its appeal. But then I think of all the hard work of women who worked so I could have more choices, and it seems downright ungrateful to not be all I can be.”

“Hmmm.” Clay paused to consider what she was saying. “OK. I get that. But what if one of those things you want to be is happy, and you can’t find that in the modern world. Does it make a woman ungrateful to find happiness where she can, even if that’s willingly putting herself under the authority she’s been told to reject?”

“See, now you’re trying to trick me.” Karen found herself laughing. She’d not expected such an intellectual argument from the leader of a patriarchal commune.

“No I’m not,” he said, pleased with her smile and returning it. “It’s a legitimate question, Karen. And it’s no different for men, when you think about it. In the outside world, I knew men who weren’t at all like me. Their wives told
them
what to do. And you know what? Those guys weren’t unhappy. It’s almost as if they knew if they didn’t tell someone to be home from the bar by eleven they might just stay all night. I never felt they were lesser men. Now, if they hated being told what to do and stayed with an overbearing wife, then I’d not have respect for them at all. But it’s the same way here. I can see you not respecting a woman who made herself stay at Heartfield even though she hated the lifestyle. But I’d stake my life that you won’t meet any women like that. You’ll find some who struggle with obedience, like Sarah, and get their asses spanked more than they care to. But I’d argue that a woman like Sarah would probably be in trouble in an office setting.”

“Good point,” Karen said.

“Well, thank you,” Clay replied. “But you still didn’t answer my question.” His eyes sought hers. “Is there any part of you that’s personally drawn to this?”

“No,” she lied, and then said it again a little more forcefully. “No. Of course not. I can’t imagine what kind of woman would seek out something like this. Not for real.

***