Chapter 2 #2
She looks at me skeptically but begrudgingly acquiesces, picking up the pickaxe and following me into the tunnel.
“Your hands are pretty full there, sweetheart. You sure you want to keep that gun pointed at me while I show you my silly little DIY project?”
“I’m fine, thanks.”
I keep up my bullshit story about the drain as we make our way westward underground.
“Tell me something, cowboy,” she says. “Why isn’t there any water down here if this is supposed to redirect the creek?”
“Good question. It’s, ah, not active yet. I’m just, uh, laying the groundwork until we can get permits…”
Her footsteps stop behind me.
I turn. “What is it?”
Her face is illuminated in the headlamp, and her pretty brown lashes blink against the direct light.
“You need to cut the crap.”
“So do you,” I say.
“You first.”
“No way.”
“Well, I’m the one with the gun and the pickaxe,” she says.
“One would think that would incentivize me, but in fact, having a gun pointed at me just makes me want to lie more to protect myself. If you tell me who you are, that’s more likely to disarm me, don’t you think?”
She stares at me for a long moment. Then holsters her gun. “You talk too much.”
To my surprise, she turns around and walks away, back toward the compound.
“Hey!” I call after her, though I don’t know why.
“Bye!” she says. “I’m not interested in playing your games. I’m tired. And I have a wall to fix.”
Curious and perplexed, I watch her walk away. I have to think fast. If I were in my right mind, I’d simply head back to the ranch, block off the tunnel, and wait for the bad guys to show up and shoot me for trespassing.
But I can’t make myself let this angel get away from me.
“Sure!” I call after her. “Much easier to walk away and pretend you don’t know how that tunnel got here. If they question you, it’s better if you don’t know what your neighbors are planning.”
She freezes. “What are you talking about?”
I rub my thumb over my lip.
“Play dumb. Play the part of a clueless sister-wife to keep yourself safe. If you get too curious about what I’m up to, the elders will figure out who you really are.”
She looks down at her front and adjusts something, then turns back to me. The flicker in her eyes gives her away. Damn. I’m right.
“What did you say?”
“If you were one of those sister-wives, you would have been on your knees praying to heavenly father, but you’re not. You haven’t invoked the big Sky Daddy, or the Angel Moroni.”
Her eyes flash. “You’re going straight to hell for talking like that. But fortunately for you, our Father is merciful, and there’s still time to repent.”
I laugh hard and loud. “Nice try, lady. That schoolmarm outfit is doing nothing to hide that hard ass underneath it.”
She hisses, “What?”
I’m only a little scared when she slowly begins to stalk toward me, full of piss and vinegar.
“You. Ain’t. One. Of. Them,” I taunt.
She looks down the front of her baggy overalls, with its denim, skirted bottom. She forces a joke as she flounces the wide skirt. “You calling me dowdy? This thing has pockets.”
“I’m sure it does. But you can’t distract me from the truth.”
“You are simply mistaken,” she says.
Am I really going to keep pushing? Hell, I’ll do anything to get her to keep looking at me like she wants to kill me. It’s the hardest I’ve gotten in a long time. Maybe in my life.
“So you’re telling me you don’t know the outside world? You’ve never been to the movie theater? Drank coffee? Held hands and kissed with a man?”
She blinks at me slowly.
“Listen. You don’t understand…”
I don’t care if she’s the one with the gun. I’ve got the upper hand now.
“You expect me to believe that you don’t paint your lips to make yourself feel a crumb of sexiness, because every second you spend in this place is stifling your entire existence?”
“Commenting on my lips? That’s just weird and sexist,” she says.
She’s closer now.
Politely, I click off my headlamp, and suddenly we’re plunged into darkness. As dark as the grave.
I regret not seeing her face up close, but I can’t have her blinded by the light. I peel off my work gloves and drop them.
“Sure it is. And you expect me to believe you belong here, being told what to do, waiting for one of these selfish old men to marry you, when you know damn well what it feels like to have a young, strong heathen between your legs?”
Her quick intake of breath keeps me going. I close in on her. She’s so close I could grab her, drag her to me and get her nice and dirty with one hot kiss.
“That’s right, Blondie. You’ve known men who make you feel good. You got that look.”
She’s so close now I can feel her breath as she says, “What look?”
I lean in close, my filthy face an inch from hers. “You got that look of someone who knows her worth.”
Her swallow is audible.
I don’t know who she is, but we both know she’s in danger if it’s found out she’s an imposter. Although, why anyone would want to pretend to belong to a cult is beyond me.
Unless she’s a cop.
“And you’re one of the cowboys they keep talking about,” she says. “The ones who’ve been stealing and kidnapping women from the church.”
Stealing? Kidnapping?
“I don’t do anything illegal,” I bristle, feeling a familiar sense of PTSD from my one brush with the law years and years ago. But that’s all behind me now.
“Well, the elders think otherwise. And they’re offering lots of cash to turn you over to them.”
“You gonna turn me in for a reward?” I ask with a smirk. “You think they’re gonna turn a load of cash over to a woman?
She’s so close now, it would take nothing, no effort, to purse my lips and kiss her. “Maybe I’d like to find out.”