“Sit please.”
Her body instantly obeyed. She fell into a catatonic stare as Grace brushed the tangles from her damp hair. Like Alice, she’d somehow fallen through the looking glass. She wasn’t herself here. Yet no one else seemed to find anything amiss.
The primitive fixtures and practical functions fascinated her but also terrified her. These things were outside of her wheelhouse, beyond what she knew and therefore impossible for her to dream.
This was real. All of it. Not just the foreign Amish culture, but also the bizarre way Grace knew what she was thinking and the drugging spell both she and Adam could put her under.
He claimed he hadn’t drugged her, and she didn’t believe him. But now, forced into this catatonic trance as his sister did something to her hair, she felt so far removed from reality she began to believe something else was happening here.
“You’re not dreaming,” Grace said softly, her fingers gently pulling as she braided her hair. “But your dreams brought you to Adam. They called to him, like a stirring that awoke his soul.”
She was definitely reading her thoughts.
The delicate weight of the braid laid against her spine and Grace rounded the stool, dropping to her knees in front of her. “I know you’re confused, Anna, but if you can’t trust Adam, trust that God has a plan. Let him lead you.”
Who? God or Adam? Both seemed undeserving of her trust.
Grace sighed, her head tipping to the side. “Do as Adam says, and he will keep you safe. But you must trust him. In the end, you’ll be stronger—possibly his equal. I’m not suggesting you surrender forever. Just for now. I know my brother. Once he has you, he’ll give you anything you ask. He just wants your loyalty and trust in return.”
The towel slid down her back to drape over the stool as Grace slipped a gossamer gown over her head. She pulled her to her feet and the thin material whispered to her ankles. Her nipples puckered, pressing against the gown and showing in the candlelight.
Grace smiled. “You truly are lovely. Adam’s very lucky.”
Grace led her back to the house, into the utilitarian bedroom they’d visited before. Anna’s motions were not her own, and the longer she remained under this puppet spell, the more she questioned her sanity.
A chest of drawers stood against the wall, holding another ceramic basin and pitcher. Her stomach pinched as her eyes reflexively searched for some sort of modern flaw to prove this was all a joke, but every piece of furniture and every hand stitched blanket proved otherwise.
No mirrors and only a simple chair in the corner. Her gaze shifted to the bed—large enough for two.
Grace, still holding the lantern from outside, placed it on the bedside table casting the room in a soft golden glow. A braided rug covered the worn floors, dating the home beyond Adam’s family. Did Jonas or Abilene’s parents live here before?
“Is this Adam’s room?” Startled by her own voice, her fingers rushed to her lips.
Grace glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “For now. He’ll be building a house soon, a place for the two of you, where you can have your privacy.”
What was the point in arguing that she wouldn’t be staying? No one listened to her anyway.
A timber box sat beside the lantern. Annalise lifted the lid and frowned. Tiny, wooden figurines hid inside.
Grace lifted a small wooden fox. “Adam’s very skilled with his hands.”
“He carved these?”
Grace nodded and replaced the figurine, shutting the box and taking Annalise’s hand. “Remember what I said? Let him lead you.”
“I can’t trust a man who did what he did.”
“Try. For every inch you give him, he will offer you a mile.”
She doubted that. Stuck in a primitive version of The Wizard of Oz, she only wanted to go home. She didn’t trust Adam, but part of her trusted Grace. Maybe her advice would be the magic ruby slippers to take her home.
For every inch you give him, he will give you a mile.
If that was true, Annalise needed to improve her acting skills. There had been a point when she liked him, a brief moment when they first met. But then he’d only been an intriguing customer at the bar. The more she learned the less appealing he became. His unarguable beauty did stretch that far, but there could never be any excuse for abducting her and holding her against her will.
It would take every ounce of determination to pretend she forgave him. And what if she messed up? Tonight, at dinner she glimpsed a firm, unbending side of him that promised Adam could be dangerous if pushed too far.
Perhaps she should be grateful he hadn’t done more than insist she follow him and dress like a cast member from Little House on the Prairie.