Desperate Rescue. Barbara Phinney

      Two days later, exhilaration still surged through Eli. He’d spent the last seven years praying for this and while Kaylee had declined his invitation to lunch to discuss what needed to be done, she had agreed to go with him to the compound early Wednesday morning.

      So now, pulling into her driveway to pick her up, he smiled to himself again. Thank You, Lord.

      His smile wavered as another thought hit him. What would Phoebe say to him when they finally saw each other? That he was being selfish and jealous again? That any time Noah had something, Eli wanted it?

      Kaylee’s appearance at her door dissolved the worry. She turned to check the lock, then trotted down the single step toward his car, carrying a small knapsacklike purse. Today, she wore the same jacket she’d worn on Saturday, but her pants were lighter, probably thanks to the warmer weather. Her dark hair was pulled back into a loose, wavy ponytail, something he felt would slip away if a strong wind or hand slipped into it.

      A hand like his?

      No. He shoved away the notion in time for her to reach his car.

      As she opened the passenger door, she peered inside. “Are you expecting to be able to drive right up to the compound in this thing? It’s too low to the ground.”

      “We’ll go as far as possible, then walk in.”

      With a doubtful bite of her lip, she settled in beside him. Her knapsack remained in her tight grip. “We have to be careful. After what happened to Trisha, some of the locals are nervous about the compound.”

      “I imagine. They’re as valuable to the border patrol as the surveillance cameras. There have been some pretty unsavory characters sneaking over the border.” That was pretty much what his investigator reported. It was dangerous to live near the U.S.-Canadian border. Dangerous thanks to people like Noah.

      Anger built in Eli and he fought it with a quick silent prayer. Lord, take away my bitterness.

      “When Trisha died in that motel,” Kaylee whispered, interrupting his prayer, “I knew it was Noah, but he’d managed to convince the police that Trisha missed me so much she deliberately overdosed and did so away from The Farm to save them from getting into trouble.” She snapped her head over, her eyes hot. “He staged her murder to look like suicide! The police closed her file without another thought!”

      Eli held his breath. What other dangerous things was Noah doing with his flock?

      Keep Phoebe safe, Father. Use me to stop Noah.

      The highway narrowed to two lanes as it wound through small towns at the western edge of New Brunswick. The border with Maine lay half an hour ahead, but Eli couldn’t content himself with the passing scenery of quaint cottages, now closed for the season.

      He cleared his throat. “How did Trisha get involved with Noah?”

      “It wasn’t him initially,” she answered tersely. “It was another member. John Yale. Trisha was camping at Baxter State Park when she met John. He spent a lot of time talking to her.”

      John. So their second cousin still hung around. Eli hadn’t been able to confirm if he’d stayed on when Noah had moved his cult from Florida to rural Maine.

      “He’s an older man,” she continued. “But for his age, he sure can climb mountains.”

      The strong, wiry John had been a fixture at family get-togethers and, taking a liking to Noah, would dream alongside him of running big companies and changing the world.

      Eli gripped the steering wheel. Noah had always wanted power and control. Even as a child, he’d bullied and ruled their home. “So John recruited her there?”

      Kaylee nodded. “Pretty much. Trisha was always an idealist. I told her once that she’d probably love to see the world blown up because then her ideals would be justified. We had a huge fight and didn’t talk for weeks.”

      “We’re you both living at home then?”

      “Yes.” She toyed with the straps of her knapsack. “In Nova Scotia.”

      “Did your parents always live there? How did you end up in the middle of New Brunswick?”

      “My father worked on the oil platforms. He met my mother in Halifax and settled there. I took some college courses in agriculture and management and was close to securing a job up here at a local potato-processing plant.”

      He glanced over at her. “And you lost all chances when Noah kept you?”

      “I’d been gone for two years and there wasn’t much fight left in me. Plus, I’m still malnourished. That was Noah’s way of gaining control over people. Hold back just enough food to ensure you’re always hungry.”

      Eli’s already firm grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles ached.

      Kaylee looked as if she could barely stand discussing this. Still, she said, “I came to the point where I just got used to the gnawing hunger. Everyone around me was the same way and they didn’t complain.”

      He felt the uneasy pause.

      “Certainly not in front of Phoebe or Noah.”

      He was at a loss at what to say. Finally, he murmured, “Doing without can make us better people.”

      “What good is doing without food?” She pulled up on her knapsack as she snapped, “It destroys the body and you’re certainly not any better for it.”

      Guide my words, Lord, he prayed swiftly. “Have you asked your pastor about that?”

      “I told you, Pastor Paul is not my pastor. I went to the church in Riverline because Lois asked me to and I owed her for helping me settle in. That’s all.”

      He swallowed. “When bad things happen to Christians, we try to remember that our time here is miniscule compared to eternity in Heaven.”

      “Yeah, if you’re good.”

      Eli shook his head. “No! You’re saved by faith, not by works.” He hadn’t expected to witness to Kaylee and pulled a face as he tried to concentrate on his driving. And where they were going. “Do you like Lois’s church?”

      She took her time answering. “Yes. The people there are wonderful. They’re kind and considerate.”

      “They’re doing God’s work—not for salvation, but because they love Him.” He felt his tight grip on the wheel relax, hoping to give good answers without his full attention. “I wish I could take back all the awful things my brother did to you. You didn’t suffer any permanent damage, did you?”

      “Physically, no.”

      He knew what she meant. “Emotionally, you’re strong, too. You’re here today, aren’t you?”

      She twisted around in the seat and pinned him with a steady stare. “Were you kids raised in the church?”