or using a cane. Even the elderly are robust and take power walks in the park. I’ve noticed all the beautiful people but never considered that significant. What do you believe it means?”
May tenderly rubbed the baby’s toes and fingers. “I’ve been midwife in this area for years—long before Samuel Grayson and the Devotees came to town and disrupted everything. Take my word for it, not all babies born in this town are absolutely perfect. You see every kind of birth defect here that you see anywhere else.”
Susannah’s hands began to shake. “What happens to those babies? Where do they go?”
“Here, let me help you.” May slid her hand under Susannah’s and pulled the baby from the water.
Next, she laid the child down on a soft towel and showed Susannah how to pat her dry. “There’re lots of wild rumors about what happens to the babies. One I heard suggests the imperfect little ones are taken out of town and given to new parents who can handle the defect.”
When Susannah gasped her horror, May pursed her lips and handed over a dry and happy Melody. “Another rumor is even worse. I heard there’s a secret room located under the community-center complex where everyone who’s not perfect is, well, maybe not in prison but out of sight.”
Susannah cradled her baby. “You’re kidding, right? The Devotees aren’t like that. They’re kind and generous, and they really care about people. It’s impossible.”
Shrugging a shoulder, May asked, “What’s the one thing you like best about the Devotees?”
“That’s easy. The ‘Being the Best You’ seminars Samuel gives every evening. They’re wonderful. He actually makes me think I can do the things I never thought I could.”
“In other words, those seminars make you believe you can be perfect. You’re already beautiful on the outside, but you think becoming a Devotee will make you beautiful on the inside, too?”
“Well …” Not when May put it that way. “I guess not.”
“But being perfect is important to Samuel and his Devotees. Would you agree?”
“I suppose.”
May give her a wry smile. “It’s time for another breast-feeding lesson. Why don’t you just think over what we’ve talked about? You have a few days yet before you need to take the baby to town and go back to the Devotees.”
Susannah had thought about it. The idea grew in her mind until she could think of nothing else. Finally, she told May that she didn’t want to take any chances with her baby but didn’t know what else to do. She loved the Devotees and loved the town of Cold Plains.
Torn, Susannah went through the next few days in a haze until one morning when one of Samuel’s friends, a nice man by the name of Jonathan Miller, called May looking for Susannah.
He told May that he’d heard a rumor that Susannah had already given birth, and the Devotees were eager to welcome the new mom and baby back into their midst. They stood ready to offer her anything she might need.
May hung up, shaking her head. “This is trouble. I told him you weren’t here, but I bet he comes here to look for you later today. It’s time for a decision.”
Suddenly terrified, Susannah gulped down her panic. “We have to leave. Now. This morning. Help me, May. I don’t know where to go or what to do. But they can’t find Melody here. We can’t let that happen.”
May took a breath and nodded her agreement. “Okay. Let’s get cracking. I can lend you a carrier and a backpack—and the money for a bus from the highway to Laramie. You’ll find help in Laramie. I’ll give you a few numbers to call.”
After they had packed up the bag, Susannah remembered the one missing piece of their plan. “How will the baby and I get to the highway bus stop?”
“I can drive—” May stopped talking when the sound of a car turning into her long driveway came through the trees. “Oh, Lord. They’re here. You’ll have to walk. Out the back way through the woods. Quick. Here’s a map and general directions. Don’t let them spot you.”
Susannah put the baby in the carrier and hurried to slide the backpack over her shoulders. She tore out the back door of May’s house at a dead run and never turned around.
Tired and exasperated with his family, Nathan Pierce rolled his tight muscles as he strolled across the barnyard toward the foreman’s quarters. It was almost dawn, and he’d had maybe two hours of sleep last night. And now he was out here looking for the ranch foreman to issue orders for the day before he could even start breakfast.
Reminding himself for the fiftieth time in the past two days that he loved his family’s ranch enough to stick around when things got rough, Nathan sighed and whistled for the dogs. While he was out this far, he might as well make sure they were fed and groomed.
With one whistle, old Joey came running, barking and bouncing in the morning’s gray light. The shepherd was a longtime favorite. But where were the rest of the hounds?
The care of these dogs was the only thing he expected his brother to handle. Was even that too much to ask of the man who actually owned the whole place?
Sighing with frustration, Nathan thought back to how he’d gotten in this position. His mother’s father, the one who’d built this ranch from a humble few acres into a grand showplace, died eight years ago. He had loved his granddaddy dearly, but every day since he’d passed away, Nathan had cussed out the old man for leaving the ranch to his oldest grandchild.
What the hell had Isaac been thinking? Nathan might’ve understood if his grandfather had bequeathed the place to his son-in-law, Nathan’s father, Evan. But Evan and Isaac had never agreed on anything—least of all on the management of the land. So Nathan’s older brother, Derek, ended up with everything.
Not that Derek cared one way or the other. Right after the reading of the will, his brother had turned over management of the place to their father—against all his grandfather’s wishes.
Where were those dogs? Nathan whistled again and then listened. He heard Buck the coonhound baying from somewhere nearby. Buck never bayed like that unless he had a critter cornered.
Hell. It was just another chore that would have to be attended to before he could start his day.
Nathan strode forcefully toward the dogs’ commotion, wondering if he would need a rifle to dispatch whatever kind of critter could have wandered into one of the barns. He hated the thought of killing a hapless wild animal and decided to try shooing whatever it was back out into the woods without deadly force. He just hoped the damned thing wasn’t a skunk.
By the time he reached the dogs, his ranch foreman was coming from around the other side of the barn with a rifle already in hand.
“Hold it, Mac. Take charge of the dogs, and let me see what we’ve got cornered before we go tearing in, guns blazing.”
“Okay, boss. It’s your skin.” With a grin, Mac grabbed the three dogs by their collars and held tight.
Nathan shook his head and entered the largest hay barn. Was he being foolish to come unprotected? Stopping right inside the door to pick up a pitchfork, he cautiously walked down the long center aisle while being careful to check both right and left among the huge stored hay bales.
Toward the end of the aisle, right before the entrance to the tool storage area, Nathan heard a strange noise. He stopped and listened intently. What was that sound? It wasn’t like any animal he’d ever encountered. Then after a few seconds he took that sentiment back.
The noise sounded for all the world like the mewling cries of a newborn kitten. Jeez. The dogs were going nuts over a new litter of kittens?
Just in case he was wrong, Nathan hefted the pitchfork in both hands and crept quietly around the half wall on his way to the main storage room and the cries.
What he saw