Ashes of the Red Heifer Read online

  She crossed the porch in three strides, gripped the glass doorknob and thrust the door inward. She heard David following close behind, and that helped her resolve. The linoleum in the kitchen had been old and worn when Annie was a child; it hadn’t been replaced. The ruffled, dotted-Swiss curtains, ancient bread box, gas stove, dish strainer—every detail—she could have described it all. The only addition seemed to be the drip coffee maker on the counter.

  Her parents sat at the red Formica table, steaming mugs of coffee in front of them. Her father glared at her. “Get out of my house.”

  Annie stood in the middle of the kitchen, hands on her hips. “David and I have come to buy a half dozen bred heifers.”

  Her father roared. “Get out of my house!”

  David’s voice had an edge of steel to it. “It’s important that you listen.”

  “You’ve got to know about BA 23 in Israel,” Annie said. “We’re close to finding the cure, but we need healthy cattle. And I’m here to buy some from you.”

  Accusation tinged her father’s words. “You’ve been in Israel working for the World Merchants, with their schemes to destroy Christendom and bring about One World Order?”

  David sighed. “This won’t get us anywhere.”

  She’d forgotten the way her father spoke in capitals, as if giving a sermon. “The Israeli’s are suffering with this disease. They’ve been trying desperately to find the cure before more countries become contaminated and more people die.”

  Her father threw back his head in disgust. “The Jews are masters at making it look like they’re victims. But they have another agenda and that is to destroy the Adamic Israelites and control the world. God sent this disease to kill the imposters. Let them die.”

  David’s jaw clenched.

  “That’s good, Dad. Wallow in your paranoia. Let them die, and let the disease spread until it wipes out cattle all over the world. Now you’re thinking.”

  Her father stepped so close the spray from his words misted Annie. “Your soul is shriveled and you will burn forever for your hand in helping the World Plotters Against Christendom.”

  “My soul is fine. I’m more worried about yours, all moldy with hate. I’m only here to buy the heifers and get on my way. I’ve got five thousand apiece for six fall calvers.”

  The veins on her father’s temples rose. “I prayed over you and brought you up to walk with the Lord. What caused you to turn and serve Satan?”

  She ached for the love and respect they used to share. But he’d become so bitter, much more damaged than she remembered. “All I’m asking is for you to take the cash and let me have the heifers. We’ll get out of here and you can forget you ever had a daughter. Or better yet, you can curse my name forever.”

  Her father’s gaze darted to David. For the first time, he seemed to really look at him. His eyes widened then narrowed to slits. “You’re a Jew boy, aren’t you? I see it in you now. Agent of the devil.”

  Her mother pushed her chair from the table and rose. She seemed to tiptoe to where Matthew stood. Her fingertips brushed his arm. The look she flashed Annie held a sting of anger. “Leave now,” she whispered through thin lips.

  “Mom, look at him. Can’t you see how crazy he is?”

  Her mother wouldn’t meet her gaze. “Just go.”

  Her father brushed her mother’s hand away as if it were a fly. “I know what they’re after. They want their perfect Red Heifer and it has nothing to do with brucellosis.”

  “You know about the Red Heifer?” Annie asked.

  Her father narrowed his eyes in contempt. “I knew they’d eventually come back.”

  Annie looked at David to see if he understood. David shook his head.

  “Who would come back, Dad?”

  Matthew pointed at David. “Them. They need me to give them what they want most. Their sacrifice.”

  Arlene paled. She shook her head slightly.

  Her father pointed to the table. “I had them right here. Five years ago. I told them no then and the answer is still no.”

  “Why wouldn’t you give the Jews cattle?” Annie asked.

  Her father’s face twitched with frustration. “Hebrews are not Jews! How dare they call themselves sons of God? God’s true Covenant People are those descendent from the ten lost tribes who went to Britain and America.”

  David voice was smooth. “I think there’re some serious flaws in your logic. Look to your Bible.”

  Her father’s mouth drew back in a grimace. “The Hebrew holds the Bible in one hand and holds hands with the devil with his other.”

  “For god’s sake, stop it,” Annie said.

  Matthew seemed to feel satisfied he’d made his point. He addressed Annie. “Oh yes. They came here. The imposters wanted our cattle and they were willing to pay plenty. They wanted us to build them a whole herd to ship to Israel.”

  David took on the voice he used for Alanberg when they wanted something at the kibbutz. “Mr. Grant. We aren’t here to harm you in any way. There is a specific bloodline we need. We’ll take the heifers and be gone before you know it.”

  Her father advanced on David. “Imposter! You walk the earth claiming to be God’s chosen, but you were cast out of the kingdom. We are God’s covenant people, the white Adamic race of true Israelites, not you deceivers who call yourselves Jews.”

  She reached out and grabbed her father’s wrist. “Leave him alone!”

  Her father whirled around, moving faster than Annie thought he could. He raised his strong left arm and began to swing it toward Annie’s head. Another familiar memory: the pain as his palm smashed into her temple, how she’d feel as her body twisted toward the sink and crumpled to the floor, the ringing and flashes of light, the copper taste of blood from her tongue.

  Suddenly his arm stopped. Skin slapped against skin. David shoved her father toward the red table. Her father bounced against it, knocking over the coffee cup. Brown liquid splashed onto the floor and the heavy mug thunked to the linoleum.

  David planted his feet. “If you want to hit someone, hit me.”

  Her father jumped to his feet, face red, eyes bulging in rage. He barreled into David, crashing him against the refrigerator. A stack of aluminum pie plates cascaded to the floor along with the garish traditional turkey platter that shattered with a crash.

  Arlene screamed. Annie started for the fight, ready to pull one or the other away.

  “Stop!” The word rang out followed by the click of a gun.

  Annie swung toward the door to see Moshe standing there, his gun pointing at her father and David.

  They stopped fighting. David took a step toward Annie and her father stood motionless. The only sound was their harsh breathing accompanied by Arlene’s soft sobs.

  Fear curled in Annie’s stomach at the sight of Moshe’s eyes. She’d seen him laughing, worried, full of love and devotion, but she’d never seen him murderous before. She knew if she provoked her father to another outburst Moshe would shoot.

  Annie started to tremble. “Let’s go, David.”

  She took heavy steps toward the door. David backed out, following her.

  Hand on the doorknob, Annie looked back once. Her mother cried soundlessly. Her father leaned against the doorway into the living room; all fight seemed to have left him. Annie lowered her head and walked outside.

  David followed as they crossed the yard to the pickup. The black dog greeted them with another chorus of raucous barking.

  A soft, female voice floated to her. “Annie?”

  “Lizabeth.” She spoke before seeing the young woman standing stiffly in front of the bunkhouse gate.

  Lizabeth looked older than her twenty-nine years. Shadows under her eyes spoke of fatigue. Pulled in a ponytail, her once shiny blonde hair now appeared lifeless and dingy. She wore a shapeless men’s shirt over faded jeans. To Annie, it seemed they stared at each other for minutes, but it was probably more like seconds. In one leap, she closed the distance between them. Lizabeth clu
ng to her.

  After more tears, Lizabeth drew back and let her gaze travel to the two children standing at the edge of the bunkhouse yard, their eyes wide, their mouths drawn into Cheerios of surprise. “These are my kids. Mandy is nine, Lucas is five. Ashley is with her dad, she’s thirteen. And I’m expecting another one after the first of the year.”

  Annie calculated quickly, her mind refusing to register the news. “You have a daughter who is thirteen?”

  Lizabeth flamed red. She looked toward the calving lot. “Yep. We wanted a family right away.”

  Good sense told her to stop, but she didn’t listen. “You would have been sixteen. A year after I left.”

  Lizabeth looked at the ground. “There’s lots you don’t know.”

  Her stomach clenched. “What happened?”

  Lizabeth backed up two steps. She held her hands behind her back, her small mounded belly poking against the oversized western shirt. “I’m not as strong as you, Annie. And I was so young.”

  Annie put her thumb on Lizabeth’s chin and forced her to look up. “Tell me.”

  Lizabeth’s clear blue eyes drew to Annie, then darted away. “God provided a good husband. I love these children to death.”

  “But you never wanted to stay on the ranch. You had dreams of living in a city and traveling.” Annie’s voice caught in the lump in her throat.

  Two tears raced to Lizabeth’s jaw. “It was a childish fantasy. God had a plan for me.”

  “Dad had a plan, you mean.”

  A sob rushed from Lizabeth and she bent as if Annie had punched her. Still, she wouldn’t look up. “It is for the best. I would have failed if I’d left the ranch.”

  Annie wanted to shake Lizabeth. Where was the laughing sister, the comrade who’d withstood Matthew’s belt alongside Annie? “Who is he? Who did you marry?”

  Lizabeth didn’t answer. She cried harder and retreated toward the bunkhouse. Annie grabbed her by the shoulders and forced Lizabeth to look at her. “Who is it?”

  Lizabeth finally looked at Annie. Anger shot from her tear-filled eyes, aimed with accuracy at Annie’s soul. “Melvin Payne. You left. I couldn’t fight them alone. You said you’d come for me but you never did.”

  Nausea flushed through Annie. “I didn’t know. I tried to call you and sent letters, but you never wrote back. If I’d known, I’d have found a way to get you out of here.”

  Lizabeth’s eyes hardened to flint. “You knew what would happen if you left. You made your choices and I suffered the consequences. But you’ll pay. Someday Melvin and I will own this ranch and I’ll sell it, auction off everything, and your precious Grant Red Angus will disappear.”

  The bitterness and anger scorched Annie. Lizabeth, who had smiled and laughed in Annie’s memories, had turned into this vengeful harpy. And it was Annie’s fault for leaving. Annie let go of her and headed toward the hill behind the calving lot. She shouldn’t have allowed them to do this to Lizabeth.

  Lizabeth came after her, voice rising in fury. “You took my life and left me here with yours.”

  Guilt caught her in wave after wave as she ran.

  EIGHTEEN

  Memory powered her legs past the open yard gate, crunching across the gravel, behind the barn and up the steep hill northwest of the headquarters. This was Wild Horse Hill, the tallest point around for several miles. The soft sand anchored sage, soap weeds, the tall red and gold grasses, and bunches of sunflowers all drying now. When they were children she and Lizabeth had spent many summer afternoons searching out sand cherries and buffalo berries for jelly. Reaching the top of this hill had been one of Annie’s first challenges and signs of independence. It was her favorite place in all the earth, the center of her universe.

  Tears spattered her face before she topped the hill and once there, she flopped to the sand and gave way to unrelenting sobs. God, she missed her father. He was the only one who ever understood Annie’s love of the land and the red cattle. He knew Annie’s drive to be the best. He understood…everything.

  That his religion robbed them both of their love kicked at Annie’s insides like a bloody miscarriage. She jumped to her feet and screamed her rage to the Nebraska wind. She cursed whatever god or gods who fueled the insanity corrupting her life from her childhood until now.

  Below, she saw David and Moshe leaning against the pickup.

  After she’d spewed the head off her rage she sank to the sand and sat with her knees drawn up, her back to the headquarters, the sun warming her face. Memories of her childhood bubbled around her and more, the memories of the dreams she had for her life on the ranch. Her throat closed when she thought of the daughter she’d hoped for, the way they’d climb Wild Horse Hill the pudgy child’s hand protected in Annie’s strong hand.

  The image made her think of Moshe and his son. Unless Annie figured out some way to save them, Moshe’s little boy wouldn’t walk hand in hand with him, either.

  David’s heavy breathing and noisy footsteps closed in on her. He dropped down behind her, his long legs stretching out around her hips. He pulled her back into his warm body and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry,” he whispered against her hair.

  She pulled away and faced him. “How could he have done that to Lizabeth? Damn him to hell.”

  David’s eyebrows twitched. “I hate to hear you say that, even if your father is hard to take.”

  She snorted. “I ought to do a lot more than just say it.”

  David shook his head. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I’ve got to say it. The Commandments and the Jewish sages equate reverence for mother and father with the reverence due to God. Whatever your parents do, you have to honor them.”

  “Don’t go getting religious on me now.”

  He gave her a sideways smile. “I am religious. I’m Jewish, remember?”

  “Don’t make it an issue. Besides you didn’t seem to have a moral dilemma at the house. You were ready to clean Dad’s clock.”

  David shrugged and pulled her back against him, putting his arms around her. “They aren’t my parents and he was trying to hurt you.”

  She watched a cloud expand in the blue sky. “Dad was my best friend. We were always out doing something. Fencing, calving, feeding, and when we got a break, I’d go riding. I started A.I.ing when I was a freshman in high school.”

  “Artificial insemination at fourteen? That’s young.”

  She smiled. “Artificial insemination was another fight with Dad. Took me two years of badgering, shoving journal articles under his nose, gathering statistics. I swear I had to drag him every step forward on this ranch.”

  David’s voice vibrated on her back. “You’ve been gone for sixteen years. He must have learned to move forward on his own.”

  His words wrung her heart as if it were a soggy dishrag. All the hopes and plans for the ranch she’d so carefully tucked away came flooding back. “You might believe this since you know me so well, but most people would think I’m lying: I always had a plan for Grant Red Angus. From the time I can remember, I believed we’d be famous for our genetics. I used to read everything I could get my hands on about breeding, beef, ranch management. I read and kept notebooks, drew detailed plans.

  “By the time I was in high school, Dad and I were more like business partners than father and daughter. I lived for the day I would graduate and never have to leave the ranch again.”

  Annie quit talking, surprised at the unusual urge to tell him the whole story. She’d never confided it to anyone, not even Hassan.

  She took a deep breath and shifted sideways. “Dad and I used to argue a lot; it was the way we communicated. Most of the time it didn’t amount to anything serious, but sometimes he’d hit. I could put up with it, because I loved what I was doing so much. And, I loved him. I never thought he didn’t love me, just that he couldn’t control his temper.”

  David pulled her back to lean against him. “You must have left right after graduation. Why didn’t you stay as you planned?
”

  David’s warmth surrounded her, but a chill penetrated her heart. “The night I graduated, my folks had a little reception. People from the church, mainly. We belonged to this little church that calls itself Adam’s Sons. It isn’t a national church, just Pastor Dan who came here and started it with his own beliefs.

  “Anyway, Dad had been saying for weeks he had an announcement to make that night that would bring fulfillment to my life. He’d give me a hug or something—really not like him at all—and say things about my life’s work, and how I’d be a woman. Melodramatic garbage. But Dad always spoke as if he were reading from scriptures.

  “The way he went on about my future, I finally figured he was going to deed me part of the ranch. After the steaks, he made everyone gather on the porch and he brought me over to stand by him. Made a big speech about his daughter and and how I was his gift from God and he wanted to give me a gift on this special day. You can imagine what a blowhard he could be.

  “So there I was, certain by now, that he was going to give me the west ranch. It had a little shack on it and I’d already planned how I could fix it up.” Annie broke off and drew in a deep breath, feeling it vibrate down her throat as she fought the tears.

  David didn’t move.

  She continued. “His arm was around me and I was grinning like an idiot in front of all those people. He stepped back, took my hand and held out his other hand. That’s when I noticed Melvin Payne standing right up front. Melvin was thirty-five or six. His wife had quit him a couple of years before that. She wasn’t much older than me, but she took their two little kids and away she went. Melvin, old, mean, and stinky, stood there with his mouth wide open, his beady eyes glittering. He might as well have had his tongue hanging out.”

  Annie shivered at the memory. To her seventeen years, he seemed ancient, his bald pate shining in the porch light, his paunch hanging over his belt. She sat up and looked at David. “Dad took Melvin’s hand and put it on mine, and before I could scream, he announced our engagement.”

  David’s mouth compressed into a hard line and anger flashed in his eyes. “How could he think you’d be happy with someone like that?”