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  His question appeared to startle her. “I’m Sophia Hannah,” she said. He found the way her full lips quirked as if on the verge of a smile unbelievably sexy. His entire body stirred. Of course, he ignored this. The last thing he needed right now was to get his insides all tangled up because of a woman.

  And then, before he could ask her anything else, she spun on her heel and left.

  Part of him wanted to go after her. Instead he hunted around for his clothes. Might as well get dressed while he waited to see what would happen next.

  He located his shirt and jeans in a beige metal locker. They were neatly folded, with his briefs tucked in between. His socks and boots had been placed on a shelf nearby. Everything appeared to be in good condition, which meant whoever had undressed him had done so carefully. He wondered if the pretty little nurse had helped.

  Glancing back once at the doorway, he dressed hurriedly, using the hospital gown as a sort of impromptu curtain. Just seconds after he’d finished, he heard voices coming closer. Male voices, so most likely the doctor or maybe Thomas and his bodyguards.

  Three men stepped into the room. They all had a wholesome sort of look. Short hair cut the same way—one light, two dark—and identical expressions of earnest friendliness on their clean-scrubbed faces. Jack didn’t recognize any of them. But then, why would he?

  “Welcome,” one of them said, stepping forward and offering his hand. He stood at least six-four, with an impressive girth. When they shook, Jack took note of the rough calluses on his fingers.

  “I’m Phillip.” He smiled, less of an aw-shucks grin than Jack had expected. “You’ll be staying with me. We single guys all room together. Also, you can tag along with me when I go to work tomorrow. I’ll keep you busy, at least until they assign you to your job.”

  “Assign?” That word again. Asking might be the wrong move, but Jack did anyway. “I don’t get to choose?”

  All three of the men exchanged glances before breaking out into laughter. Though Jack listened, he couldn’t detect anything but humor in the sound. No uneasiness or fear.

  “Nope,” one of the other men answered easily. “I’m Randy and this is my brother, Jeff. In case you can’t tell, we’re twins. Not identical, though. But I think we still look a lot alike.”

  Glancing from Randy to Jeff, Jack had to wonder how he’d missed the resemblance. Same eyes, chin, skin tone and nose. There were a few differences—all minor—but enough to be the difference that would enable anyone to tell them apart.

  “We work with Phillip,” Jeff chimed in. He smiled with the same open friendliness as the other two men. “If you’re lucky, maybe you’ll get to work with us. Ever done any carpentry work?”

  Regretfully, Jack shook his head.

  “Ah, well.” Phillip clapped Jack on the shoulder. “I’m sure you have your own set of skills. Come on. We’ll show you where you’re going to be living.”

  * * *

  After the three men had shepherded the handsome newcomer out of the medical facility, Sophia sat and tried to catch her breath. She wasn’t sure what it was about the man, but she’d felt the strangest sort of anticipation whenever she’d been anywhere near him. A kind of thrumming in her veins that made it difficult to think straight never mind breathe. Though she recognized her attraction to him, she didn’t pretend to understand why. Most likely because she’d just become newly engaged to a man she hadn’t even met.

  As if she’d read Sophia’s thoughts, Ana hurried into the room. “Here,” she said, shoving a sealed white envelope at Sophia. “Thomas left this for you on the front desk. It’s probably the official notification of your engagement.”

  Accepting it, Sophia turned the envelope over and over in her hand. Part of her didn’t want to open it, as if by not doing so, she could wish away her new future.

  “Read it,” Ana demanded. “If you’re not going to, I’ll be happy to do it for you.”

  “No.” Using her fingernail, Sophia slit the seal. Inside she found an embossed white card. The front read Congratulations! Inside, the specifics of her upcoming nuptials were spelled out. Upcoming wedding between Ezekiel and Sophia Hannah, and then the date and time and place.

  “That’s it?” Sophia said. “Nothing more? I find this cold and rude and, quite frankly, insulting.” Her anger surprised her. And Ana, too, whose eyes had gone huge and round.

  “Well, at least it’s official.” Briskly, Ana changed the subject. “What’s the story on him? The guy who just left?”

  Sophia considered. “He’s new,” she said carefully. “Apparently, Thomas brought him in from the outside. I have no idea why.”

  Pursing her lips, Ana swallowed as she digested Sophia’s words. Though Sophia could tell the older woman wasn’t enamored of the possibility, she also knew Ana would never dare express disapproval about anything Thomas did. After all, Thomas only acted at their leader’s discretion. And everyone knew that everything Ezekiel did was always, without question, for the best of his Chosen children.

  “Well—” Ana dusted her hands on the front of her shift “—we’ve got more important things to worry about. We have a wedding to plan.”

  Sophia stared. While she didn’t want to hurt Ana’s feelings, she had always figured she and her best girlfriends would plan her wedding. After all, she’d certainly helped with all of theirs. Sophia knew they’d all be over-the-top excited once she gave them the news. Until they found out her intended husband was an old, old man.

  She sighed. “Of course we do,” she said softly. “But first I have to let my friends and the rest of the family in on the news. I’m pretty sure I’ll have lots of help getting everything set up.”

  Narrowing her eyes, Ana nodded. “You do understand that this can’t be just any wedding, right? You’re going to be marrying our leader. Think back to his last wedding, if you’re old enough to remember. Now that was a spectacle. You’ve got to think big, flashy and showy. You know Ezekiel will finance whatever you want.”

  All three of the adjectives Ana had just used were the antithesis of what Sophia had wanted. When she’d dreamed of her wedding, she’d planned more along the lines of classic, understated elegance. A quiet ceremony and later a joyous celebration of the love she and her new husband shared.

  She didn’t have that, either. There would be no love, no joy and certainly no celebration. At least on her part, though she knew she’d have to put on a show.

  Did Ezekiel still even celebrate? After at least twenty-five or thirty marriages, she figured this would be old hat to him now. Since she didn’t know him, she had no idea how Ezekiel felt. Though as far as she and everyone else was concerned, his feelings were everything. All that mattered was keeping Ezekiel happy.

  What Ezekiel wanted, he got. And right now, he apparently wanted her.

  Later, after arriving home to the house she shared with her best friend Rachel and two other single girls, she tried to summon up the appropriate excitement to deliver the news. Luckily, all the others were younger than her and had enough abundant glee to cover her lack.

  “You’ve been chosen by our leader?” Rachel squealed, wrapping Sophia in a tight hug before spinning her around the room. “What an honor! I can say I knew you before!”

  Her best friend’s unbridled happiness finally coaxed a smile from Sophia. “It’s kind of weird, though. He’s never even spoken to me. I don’t even know how he came to know of me.”

  One of the other girls, a quiet, mousy brunette named Cheryl, snorted. “Have you looked in the mirror lately?”

  The others giggled.

  “I’m sure he must have seen you somewhere.” Heather, who shared a room with Cheryl, smiled. “He probably took one look at you and knew you were the one he wanted for his next wife. You’re so lucky.”

  She did look in the mirror—every single morning when she got r
eady for her shift at the medical clinic. She knew some might consider her features pleasing if not ordinary. Brown hair, brown eyes. Definitely nothing extraordinary enough to draw any man’s attention—witness her lack of marriage offers. And really, if one considered the fact that the only man even remotely interested in becoming her husband was nearly four times her age, the “struck by her beauty” explanation didn’t work.

  Cheryl, who was always up for a good party—hurried into the kitchen and returned with a bottle of homemade red wine. “We need to have a toast!”

  “Yes, we do,” Rachel agreed, going for the juice glasses. She brought six—all mismatched—out on a round tray. “I hope it turned out good.”

  Heather, who made the wine in secret, grinned. “Oh, it’s good. Believe me. I tried some last weekend. Even Danny liked it.” As usual, she blushed after saying her boyfriend’s name. Everyone knew it was only a matter of time before Danny petitioned to become her husband. Some girls got lucky that way.

  In fact, every single one of Sophia’s married friends had been ecstatic over the man they’d been joined with in matrimony. Leave it to Sophia to be the lone exception.

  “Hey.” Rachel sidled up to her, handing her half a juice glass of wine. “You seem lost in thought. What’s wrong?”

  Sophia blinked, suddenly aware that everyone had stopped talking and now watched her intently.

  “Are you all right?” Rachel asked, her low voice radiating genuine concern.

  Wondering what would happen if she blurted out the truth, Sophia swallowed hard and tried to summon up a smile. She didn’t know how they’d react if she shared with them her concerns. Later, she knew she could confide in Rachel. And she would, as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

  For now, she needed to laugh and pretend to celebrate with her roommates.

  Of course everyone wanted to offer their ideas on decorating for the wedding. Sophia made a face and relayed to them what Ana had said.

  “You know what? She’s right,” Rachel said thoughtfully. “This won’t be an ordinary wedding.”

  “I wonder if Ezekiel will assign some of his staff to plan the ceremony. Provide the decorations and everything?” Heather put in.

  The other women murmured their agreement. None of them had ever been a part of something so big before. Speculations ranged from the outlandish to the ridiculously expensive.

  “I’m thinking Sophia will want classic elegance,” Rachel insisted. Since she knew Sophia better than anyone else, no one argued.

  Classic elegance. Sophia wasn’t even sure if such a thing could be applied in this situation. Glumly, she realized she didn’t even care. For most of her life, she’d spent a lot of time imagining how her wedding would be. The colors, the dresses, the flowers. Where, when and the poignant reactions of the guests to her and her groom’s individual, self-written vows.

  None of that mattered now. She wished she could find something positive in all of this, but she only felt numb. And she tried hard not to picture her wedding night.

  After the entire bottle of homemade wine had been emptied, everyone drifted to separate parts of the house. Relieved, Sophia escaped to her bedroom and plopped down on her bed. Earlier she’d thought she would welcome a good cry, but the initial numbness had seeped through her veins and now all she could do was stare up at the ceiling, dry-eyed and sick to her stomach.

  Rachel came in quietly. Since they shared the room, she didn’t knock. She sat next to Sophia on the edge of the bed and waited, aware her silence was its own form of support.

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Sophia finally blurted out. “I had so many hopes, so many dreams. Now they’re nothing. How can I marry him? I just can’t, Rachel.”

  Instead of overreacting to her desperate plea, Rachel simply nodded. “You don’t care that it’s a great honor, do you? Of course not,” she answered her own question. “You’ve always been a romantic. This development calls for you to become a realist.”

  The words calmed Sophia, exactly as Rachel had known they would. In reality, there was nothing Sophia could do about her impending marriage, so she might as well resign herself to it.

  “Status,” Rachel said, poking her. “I know you’re looking for something good and right now that’s the only thing I can think of. Right now, you’re just a regular person. Sure, you’re one of the Chosen, but so is everyone else. Once you’re married to Ezekiel, you won’t be regular any longer. Your status will be hugely elevated.”

  “As if I care about that.” Sophia’s laugh verged on the edge of hysterical. “All I ever wanted was someone to love who would love me back.”

  “Well, maybe Ezekiel will love you. And you never know, you might come to grow fond of him, too.”

  Sophia stared at her friend in disbelief. “Talk about rose-colored glasses,” she said.

  This made Rachel laugh. “I learned from the best, you know. You can’t let your shock kill your positive outlook. After all, it isn’t like you have a choice.”

  While her words might be harsh, she was right. Again. Because Sophia had no choice. She needed to figure out a way to come to grips with the turn her life had taken.

  “I just need time,” she said, her tone firm as her confidence returned. “Time to get used to the idea.”

  Rachel nodded and hugged her. “That’s the spirit. Now, come help prepare dinner. You know it’s our turn to cook.”

  Sophia jumped to her feet. “Good. That’s exactly what I need. Busywork, to keep from dwelling on this mess.”

  “That’s the spirit.” Rachel grinned. “Much more like the Sophia I know.” She linked her arm through Sophia’s. “Come on. Let’s make something delicious for our dinner.”

  Sophia let Rachel drag her to the kitchen. Reminding herself that she had time made it much easier to breathe. Maybe she could even figure out a way to extend the time and make her upcoming wedding date even further away than the one month Ana had mentioned earlier.

  She couldn’t help but hope she’d have some wiggle room on the date.

  Chapter 3

  Following his new pals outside, Jack looked around carefully, squinting in the bright daylight. The sun, warm for spring, sat high in a bright, blue, cloudless sky. It wasn’t humid, though, but a dry heat, and not nearly as hard to take as spring in Texas. The air felt different here, purer somehow. Must be the higher altitude. Surrounding the compound as well as within, there were lots of trees, evergreens along with hardwoods. His first impression was wilderness. The cult’s encampment appeared to be in an isolated area, far from any other dwellings, towns or people. All around the settlement he saw nothing but undeveloped terrain.

  The building they’d left, the hospital, looked identical to several other cinder-block buildings loosely grouped around what appeared to be some sort of central square. Everything had been painted a pale shade of dried mud. Boring, yet soothing, too. There didn’t appear to be any external individualization—no colors or decorative accents adorned anything. He couldn’t even tell which structures were residences and which were businesses—assuming they had any. He’d venture a guess that any type of monetary capitalization was frowned upon here—no doubt the leadership dispensed what was needed to the residents. That way they were dependent on the organization for everything in every aspect of their lives.

  It definitely seemed slower paced, more evenly regulated than the competitive world he was used to. And as far as he could tell, none of his companions seemed to be suffering. As they walked, the other men joked with each other, jostling elbows and laughing easily in a way that reminded Jack of college kids. He supposed these guys weren’t much older than that, which made him feel sort of ancient. But, no matter. He hadn’t come here to make friends. Though being pleasant wouldn’t hurt. More flies with honey and all that.

  The paths were al
l gravel or cobblestone; nothing as efficient or modern as pavement.

  His companions stopped in front of a single-story, unassuming building, one of many in a neat row. These were slightly smaller than some of the others, their rectangular shapes and placement reminiscent of row houses.

  “Here we are,” Phillip said, beaming with pride. “Home. Thomas wants you to room with me. Here, single people all live together, two to a bedroom. I have an empty bed since Prescott got married.”

  Jack nodded. “Sounds good.”

  Phillip opened the front door with a flourish. “Come on in. I’ll show you where you’ll be living.”

  Stepping inside, Jack looked around. After the outside, he’d expected a seriously Spartan interior, with scant decoration and functional furniture. He saw he’d been correct about the furniture—the small living room contained a boxy, two-cushion couch, one chair, a plain, rectangular coffee table and a matching end table. But the real surprise hung on the walls.

  Paintings—splashes of lush color—hung on the walls. A landscape here, a floral there. An abstract, and a portrait. All of those in one room. Intrigued, Jack strolled over to inspect the landscape, which appeared to be inspired by the local forests surrounding the compound.

  Now, Jack was no judge of art, but he knew what he liked and this—clean lines, bold brushstrokes of color—was it. “That’s amazing,” he said. “Who’s the artist?”

  “Me,” Phillip responded, pleasure warming his voice. Jack turned to see his new roommate beaming with pride. “When I was in school, I demonstrated this talent, so I was permitted to keep it as my hobby.”

  “Permitted?” The word slipped out, but Jack felt it was reasonable.

  “Everyone is allowed to have one hobby, as long as it doesn’t interfere with their work and study of the Volumes of Choice.”

  Though Jack hadn’t heard of the Volumes of Choice, it seemed pretty self-explanatory. It must be COE’s religious tenet.

  Instead of commenting, he moved on to inspect the next painting. A single flower, painted in five different shades of the same color. Beautiful, in a completely different way than the first painting, though the artist’s style remained the same.