Linda Warren

Forgotten Son


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      Eli followed him to the same room as yesterday. Peter waited outside at the door, with Ezra, who was tending to the dogs.

      “Have a seat, my brother,” Amos said, sitting at a small table holding papers, books and a worn Bible. This furniture was not rough or crude. It had probably been brought in specially for Buford and his needs.

      Eli did as instructed, wondering what this was about.

      Amos folded his hands over the Bible. “You have been with us for a day and night. How do you like it here?”

      “Very peaceful and quiet.”

      And disturbing.

      “Yes. We live close to God and the earth. But we have to build high fences to keep the bigots and naysayers out.”

      And the law.

      “You can have a home here, my brother, if you so choose.”

      Eli rubbed his hands together, wanting to give the right answer. “I’m out of a job, my family doesn’t want anything to do with me and I’m one step away from jail. At this point, any refuge is welcome.”

      “Just be aware your choice will be final.” The words held a warning. “Once you are accepted into our faith and its teachings, you will always belong and there will be no going back to your old way of life.”

      And when people leave, you murder them.

      “We will feed you, give you a home and nourish you mentally and spiritually. In return you will devote your life to me and my teachings.”

      There it was. Buford thought he was God—accountable to no one but himself.

      “What do you say, Elijah?” Buford asked. “That’s what you will be called here. We use only biblical names.”

      “I really appreciate all you’ve done for me, but I’m still trying to get my bearings.” Eli chose his words with care.

      “What better way than to start a new life, a new beginning?”

      Eli hesitated, not wanting to seem too eager.

      Buford leaned back. “I have a daughter turning fifteen in a month. If you join our faith, she will become your wife.”

      Eli stared into his gray eyes and saw that Buford was absolutely serious. He felt sick.

      “I already have a wife.”

      “You will leave your old world behind and everything and everyone in it. I am the law here.”

      “I see.”

      “In our faith girls are promised for marriage when they turn fifteen, then they start to bear children to fulfill the promises in the Bible—to go forth and multiply and to serve their husband and to spread the word of the prophet.”

      “Is it legal to marry a fifteen-year-old?”

      Eli was stalling for time, to consider his responses.

      “My brother, you have a lot to learn.” Buford gave a slight smile. “I told you there is no law here except mine. We are not bound by society or its absurd rules.”

      Eli clenched his hands together. “I’m not questioning your judgment, sir, but I’m having a hard time with age fifteen. How about the dark-haired woman? She seems older.” He knew he could jeopardize the whole mission, but he felt this was a way to get information.

      Buford’s face darkened. “Jezebel is sojourning with us. She is not a member of our faith—and never question anything I tell you. That is the first thing you learn here.”

      “Yes, sir. I’m sorry. I’m just learning.”

      He had to force the words out.

      “Don’t let it happen again.”

      “Yes, sir.”

      “Since you’re new, I will be patient with you, Elijah. Let me explain something about our faith. Only pure-blood women are accepted as wives.”

      Eli frowned. “Pure-blood.”

      “Yes. Jezebel has dark eyes and hair and her bloodline is tainted by someone with a darker skin. That is not accepted in our faith.”

      “I have dark hair.” It was the only thing Eli could say. He was learning Buford was more of a bigot than he’d ever imagined.

      “But you have blue eyes, denoting your bloodline.”

      “I see.” But he didn’t. All he saw was an evil man controlling a handful of people with his insane ideas.

      There must have been something in his voice that Buford picked up on because he added, “Don’t worry about Jezebel, my brother. We found her wandering the streets in search of food, and we took her in and gave her a place to stay. We are not heartless. But Jezebel has no memory. She doesn’t even know her name, so we gave her one. She is happy being a servant to the wives and she asks for nothing else. When she is ready, she will leave and I will let her.”

      Eli’s mind went into overdrive with this piece of information. He found comfort in knowing that the FBI would soon raid the compound. He would make sure they knew about Jezebel. Hopefully, they could help her—if Buford hadn’t totally brainwashed her into submission.

      “What is your decision, my brother?” Buford’s gaze held his.

      “Yes. I’d like to stay here.”

      He swallowed back everything else he was feeling.

      “Good. Good.” Buford nodded, stroking his beard.

      “Bless you, my brother. My head wife, Ruth, will tell our daughter, and in a month I will marry the two of you. First, you will go through a trial of learning our faith and rules. After a week, we will have another conversation, and if I am satisfied with your sincerity, I will baptize you and give you a robe. You will denounce the evils of society and from then on you will be one of us. In the meantime you will not speak to my daughter or go near her.”

      Why the hell would I want to?

      “Yes, sir.”

      “You will find many rewards here, Elijah. After you are baptized, we will build a house for your family.”

      “My family?”

      “Yes. We’ve needed new men for a long time. Ezra has a daughter turning fifteen in six months and she will also become your wife.”

      Good God.

      “You are a strong man and you will help to make our faith stronger.”

      Like hell.

      “Today you will continue to help chop the wood. We are preparing for a big celebration in our faith and you will get to witness it firsthand.”

      “A celebration?”

      “Yes. I will be taking my seventh wife in a few days. I’m in a state of fasting from pleasures of the flesh. I have twelve daughters and six sons. My seventh wife will bear my seventh son who will be the messiah of our faith and lead my people. This came to me in a prophecy and now it will be fulfilled.”

      Never, you bastard.

      Eli stood and held out his hand. “Congratulations, sir.” He was getting close, gaining his trust. This was good.

      Buford stood in turn and shook his hand. “You will now call me master.”

      The word stuck in Eli’s throat like a wad of chewing gum, and with supreme effort he swallowed his revulsion. “Yes, master.”

      “Good, Elijah.” Buford nodded in approval. “I could tell when I met you that you belonged with us. You will be a great asset to our group.”

      “Thank you…master.” He fought his distaste of the word. “What can I do to help with your wedding?”

      “Just