Rock-A-Bye Rescue. Karen Whiddon
Chapter 2
Beth Cornelison
One of the best parts of my job is the camaraderie I have with other writers. One such writer friend, Liz Talley, sat down with me on a Saturday last April over a yummy lunch of fire-roasted pimento cheese and helped me plot out the premise for this two-in-one story. The saying goes two heads are better than one, and that is most certainly true when bouncing ideas around for a new book, new characters and the right setting.
Liz was especially helpful in creating Dean Hamilton. She waxed poetically at lunch that day about a warrior with mad fighting skills and a bad boy persona who is really loyal and gentle under his gruff exterior. Hmm, that does sound like a great hero!
Lila, an artist and tenderhearted foster mother, seemed a perfect counterpoint to Dean. Add an ice storm to strand the two together with a vulnerable baby. Check! Send danger their way in the form of an escaped cult leader. Check! Before we knew it we’d cooked up a plot as delicious as the diner’s special pimento cheese. Thanks for the plotting help, Liz!
And when asked by my editor who I thought should write the other story on the two-in-one, the talented Karen Whiddon topped my list. I’m so glad she had room in her schedule to join me on this project!
Whether it is frigid where you are this month or heading into spring, I hope Dean and Lila’s story adds some sizzle and excitement to your day!
Happy reading,
Beth Cornelison
To Amy Talley—a sweet friend and awesome writer who helped me plot this story (Dean is for you!), and to Karen Whiddon, my partner in (written) crime on this project. Best wishes to you both!
The Enemy was at his door. A whole army of government minions were, even now, breaching the sanctity of his compound, seeking to destroy him. The voices had told him they would come. He’d heard the warning about The Enemy soldiers screaming in his head at dawn that morning. And he’d prepared.
He’d gathered his wives, his children, his brothers and servants. He’d assembled them all in his bunker, armed the men with blades and called on them to defend their family, their leader, their freedom even unto death. Better to die in a battle for The Truth, he’d warned his family, than to be taken a prisoner in The Enemy’s realm.
He was ready.
“Kent Pitts!” The Enemy bellowed through a bullhorn at his gate. “This is Max Dunn of the FBI. I have a warrant for your arrest on charges of kidnapping, rape and weapons violations.”
A gasp of horror whispered through his people. One of his wives began softly sobbing.
“Be strong, my family,” he shouted. “Fear is a tool of the government.” In his chest, his heart pounded like the drums of war.
“You need to open the gate and come out with your hands over your head.”
Kent clenched his teeth, felt the eyes of his soldiers turn to him for guidance. “Stand firm, brothers.”
“I have the ATF and local police with me, and we are prepared to enter by force if you don’t surrender peacefully,” The Enemy’s minion shouted.
“Master Pitts,” one of his men said, “maybe we should just—”
“Silence!” his younger brother, Wayne, barked. “Our leader has spoken. Through him, The Truth has spoken! We will stand and fight. This is our home, our private compound! We will defend it, defend our leader against anyone who interferes with our mission!” Wayne looked to him, his face seeking approval, and Kent jerked a nod.
A tense silence fell over his people. Only the sound of his newest son, Caleb, mewling hungrily to his young mother and his six-month-old daughter Eve’s restless whines could be heard as his people held their collective breath...and waited.
“Mr. Pitts, this is your last warning to come out peacefully before I give the order to breach the gate!” The Enemy called again. “Don’t make us do this the hard way.”
Slowly, methodically, Kent began lining his wives up, oldest to youngest, and turning them to face the door. They looked like angels, wearing their matching blue dresses that marked them as his brides, and all with their hair worn in a single braid down their backs. When The Enemy’s men entered the bunker’s meeting hall, the first thing they’d see would be the women, the girls, their babies. “We face a dark hour, my friends, but I am confident of our victory. The Enemy may enter our doors, but I, your leader, will not let him take your freedom!”
A loud boom sounded just beyond the doors of the sanctuary.
A few of the women screamed, and Caleb’s mother, Lydia, began crying, hugging her baby to her chest. Though his wife had just turned eighteen, had only been brought into the family a year ago, her lack of trust and cooperation irritated him. He moved his gaze to the girl next to Lydia. “Rachel, come here.”
His youngest wife hesitated, glancing up at him with wide eyes, then handed baby Eve to another woman. Head bowed, she obediently stepped forward.
“Bring Lydia with you.”
Rachel and Lydia exchanged a look, then joined hands and crept forward together, heads down. Another echoing blast sounded outside, and the girls flinched.
Kent walked to the podium, where two ceremonial long swords were displayed with blades crossed. He took them both down and handed one to Wayne. As he walked back toward his young wives, Lydia’s eyes rounded.
“Rachel, hold the baby. Lydia, lift your skirt and bend over.” When the girls were slow to act, he slapped the sword against the podium. The sound echoed through the sanctuary, as loud and ominous as the explosions outside, where The Enemy’s minions entered the compound. “Now!”
Baby Caleb squawked as Rachel scooped him from Lydia’s arms. Lydia turned and exposed her undergarment-covered