Ashes of the Red Heifer (17 page)

       Her father strode up the cracked sidewalk, his cold eyes staring past her. He might as well have planted his boot in Annie’s stomach. She had known he wouldn’t be happy to see her, but she wasn’t prepared for the pain.

The black dog enclosed in the bunkhouse yard set up a snarling racket. Her father swung his head toward the dog and shouted, “Quiet! You dumb animal.”

David reached his arm around the small of Annie’s back and drew her close. “Mr. Grant. My name is David. I’m working with Annie to cure a new strain of a killer brucellosis.”

Matthew Grant’s eyes flitted to David, then straight ahead. He didn’t answer. When he got close to them, he stepped on the grass and continued toward the house.

Annie looked at his broad back. The lanky frame she remembered had filled out with age, but his rolling cowboy gait was the same. Feeling an urge to hurt him as he’d hurt her she threw her words like a dagger. “I see King Solomon progeny are still bringing high bids.”

Her father stopped, but didn’t turn. Annie twisted the knife a little more. “I read in the Journal that ABS bought Solomon’s Choice for forty-nine thousand last spring. Not bad for a bull you saw no future in. Ironic that you were cashing that check about the same time I was scraping up enough money to make my last school loan payment.”

He pivoted, the anger draining from his face, replaced with pain. “Why have you come back to torment me?”

Maybe he did feel some remorse; maybe he missed her. Annie took a step forward. “Appears to me like Solomon bought a lot of things around here: a fancy sale barn, big sign. The place looks good.”

His eyes hardened and he snarled at her. “You prideful daughter of Satan. It was the Lord who gave us the blessings of success. He blesses all who are obedient. To those who reject him, he sends calamity.”

The porch door opened and Arlene stepped out. Her hand flew up to her mouth.

The scene felt too familiar. The only thing missing was Lizabeth’s whimpering. Annie stepped forward. “I’m your daughter. So if you call me the devil’s spawn, what does that make you?”

“Mr. Grant, I think you should hear what Annie has to say,” David said.

Ignoring David, he flung out his arm and looked to the sky. “My Lord, Jesus Christ, send this abomination from my sight.”

Annie raised her voice. “What have I done that is so unforgivable? I bred Solomon and it looks to me like he’s put Grant Red Angus on the map. What about the bull you argued was superior to Solomon? Red Glory. I haven’t seen his offspring offered since I left.”

Her father locked his steely gaze on Annie. “Red Glory’s bloodline is still on the ranch, but yours never will be. You disobeyed me and left the sanctity of a Christian home.”

David cleared his throat. “Maybe we—”

Annie interrupted him. “Come on, Dad. Evil? Because I wanted to live my own life? What about the good I did for the ranch, for you and Mom?”

Her father glared at her. “The Almighty put you here on this ranch and he intended you to stay.”

“Stop it. I’m not a demon. I’m Annie. Remember?”

He focused on her, mouth opened slightly.

She refused to let tears break loose, determined to be as tough as her father. “Remember the night of the blizzard on April fourth and Doc couldn’t get here and we did that emergency C-section? We were up all night and the next day we had twenty-seven calves. All our neighbors had calves die on them. But not us. What about our first bull sale? How we argued over which to cull and which to sell. You got so mad you finally let me put King Solomon in the ring.”

Her father stood frozen, emotion wiped from his face. Annie wanted to break through the stony indifference, to see the love and pride that used to shine in his eyes. “I’ll never forget that day we rode out to the summer pasture, just you and me. We ate our lunch on Wild Horse Hill and planned the bred heifer sale. We mapped out a five, ten, and twenty-year plan. Did you stick to it, Dad?”

Annie felt David’s hand on her arm, but couldn’t accept the comfort it offered.

Her father didn’t say anything. The only sound was the constant rustle of the wind and occasional lowing from the calving lot.

He closed his eyes and in a hoarse voice started to recite, “If your eye causes you to stumble, pluck it out…”

Annie’s tears stuck in her throat. “Don’t pluck me out of your life. I miss you. Don’t you miss me?”

He stared at Annie, his face a mask of agony. In a choked voice he said, “‘Get behind me, Satan.’”

Annie winced. “Don’t do this, Dad. Can’t we forgive the past?”

He lowered his head and slowly turned toward the house, his lanky gait sorrowful as he dragged himself past her mother and inside.

Annie looked to her mother, pleading for intercession, yet knowing it would break the lifelong pattern. “Mom?”

Tears streaked her mother’s face, but she remained silent. She turned from Annie and quickly followed her husband.

Annie’s heart shattered. She should have let the CEO shoot her in that darkened room in Jerusalem. It couldn’t have hurt this much. She fought against the self-pity, knowing a lot more than her feelings rested on this mission. She wrapped her arms around David, soaking up strength.

He stroked her hair. “I’m sorry. Shh. It’ll be okay.” He repeated the words over and over, calming her, giving her time to recover.

She always knew that someday she’d come back. Under all the loathsome beliefs of her father, he was the only person who really understood her. Everything she knew about cattle and rangeland, about working hard, and about the world, could be traced back to him.

Slowly the ranch around her took shape and the heartbreak turned to anger. Ashamed of her breakdown, she abruptly pulled away from David. “That’s what religion will do for a person. He used to love me.”

David’s face was a mixture of anger and compassion. “How could someone like you come from someone like him?”

“I
am
him. Well, without the God-blindness. Stubborn, workaholic, quick-tempered. That sound like anyone you know?”

“You’re not like him. You’re caring and warm and compassionate.”

The words ran over her like the wind ruffling the leaves. Her boots slapped the broken concrete. “I’m not a scared teen-ager anymore. He can’t hurt me if I don’t let him.”

“What are you going to do?”

“What I came to do.”

She clumped up the wooden porch and the springs of the door squealed as she swung it open. The back porch hadn’t changed at all. It still was jumble of old coats, overshoes, gloves, caps, odd bits of machinery and tools. It looked like a general repository of items that didn’t belong anywhere in particular.

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 clung to her.