Water Walker: Episodes 1-4 Part 13

"Zeke wants to see you," Wyatt said.

She turned. He stood in the kitchen doorway, still dressed in grimy work clothes, hair matted to his sweaty forehead.

"Right now?" She set the last dinner plate in the wire drying rack and wiped her hands with the dishtowel.

"Yes, sugar. I was just at his place, he's waiting for you."

"Did he say why?"

"No."

"Well, how was he? Was he cross?"

"I don't think so."

"What do you mean, you don't think so?"

"I mean I couldn't tell if he was cross."

"I swear, Wyatt . . . If a hornet stung you between the eyes, you wouldn't notice it unless someone pointed it out to you. And how many times do I have to tell you to take your shoes off at the door?"

He carefully slipped his work boots off, peeled off his socks, and placed them on a mat next to the door.

She hooked the towel through the refrigerator's handle and hurried past Wyatt, fidgeting with her fraying hair bun on the way to the bathroom. "I have to change. The children are in their rooms having quiet time. They will stay there till I return. No one goes outside. Not them, not you."

"Of course, sugar."

She entered the bathroom, filled the sink with scalding hot water, applied a dollop of Noxzema to her right hand, and scrubbed her face and neck. The medicinal scent of the white cream pleased her and she breathed it in deeply. There wasn't time to be as thorough as she normally required, but this would have to do. G.o.d would cover her haste with grace.

Cleanliness is G.o.dliness, and G.o.dliness is purity. Only the pure can see G.o.d.

Kathryn dried her face and pulled on a fresh dress-the white one with Texas bluebells on it. Her crucifix necklace. Her polished black flats would do too. Hair pulled back without a stray hair to be seen.

Without another word to Wyatt, who stared out the kitchen window with his back to her, she left the house, climbed into the truck and pulled onto the long gravel road.

Why would Zeke have sent for her so late in the day? What had she done or left undone? Nothing. So then it had to be about Eden.

Eden: the spotless lamb who'd quickly come to accept her true place in the world. And her mother's love.

Mother.

She'd wept the night Eden had first used that word with full sincerity. She'd come so far. They all had, and for that Kathryn thanked both G.o.d and Zeke every day.

Kathryn turned left into Zeke's compound and rolled to a stop next to his spotless, black pickup-an F-350 he'd said. Next to it, hers looked like a piece of junk, but that was only proper.

She killed the engine and got out of the truck. Zeke's dogs ran back and forth in a nearby chain-link pen and barked as she climbed the flagstone steps to the house, wiping beaded sweat from her hairline with a handkerchief.

A lone rocking chair sat on the covered porch beneath an overhead fan that labored in the heavy air. She gathered herself and knocked on the door with a slight tremor in her hand, then took a step back.

A brief moment, then the door swung open. Zeke wore a black b.u.t.ton-down s.h.i.+rt, tucked in, with his sleeves rolled neatly to his elbows. His dark, lingering eyes had always unnerved her-there was no hiding from them. He could see through a person's veneers, straight to the true wickedness of the heart.

"Kathryn." Zeke dipped his head. "Thank you for coming so quickly."

"Of course."

"Yes . . . Of course." He pulled the door wider and stepped to the side. "Come in."

The crisp chill of the air-conditioned home was refres.h.i.+ng and the pleasant musk of fine leather and wood nearly divine. To her way of thinking, every time she entered his house the air crackled with something that she could only call reverence. She imagined the children of Israel might've felt something similar upon entering Moses' tent.

The house had a modern kitchen to her right, filled with gleaming stainless-steel appliances and granite countertops. A mahogany dining table for twelve sat in front of a stone fireplace mounted with a huge elk. Hallways branched off on both ends to other rooms.

Zeke's kind of luxury was entirely out of place in the bayou, and yet that was the whole point because it was the way things should be-abundance in the midst of lack.

He led her toward a sitting area in the middle of the room. A pair of high-backed leather chairs sat on either side of a large couch and coffee table, which he'd once told her was hand carved from the trunk of a single redwood. On the corner of the table sat a silver tray with a half dozen highball gla.s.ses and a fancy crystal decanter half filled with amber colored liquor.

"Please." He motioned toward the couch and sat in the chair next to it.

She glanced around, wondering where Barbara was. Zeke normally took her to his office, beyond the earshot of his wife.

"It's okay, we're alone," he said, picking up the decanter.

Kathryn sat on the end of the couch with her hands on her knees. A thick silence pa.s.sed between them as Zeke slowly poured the liquor. Even from where she sat, Kathryn could smell the whisky's sweet oak scent.

He eased back, crossed one leg over the other, and sipped from the gla.s.s. "Chivas Regal." He held the gla.s.s in front of him and turned it slowly. "Barreled the year I was born."

He took a drink.

"Good year. Only two hundred fifty-five bottles exist, and this is my last one so I drink it neat. Always neat. Watering down such a thing of beauty would be a sin because it would make it less true to itself."

He looked at Kathryn and winked. "And the truth sets us free."

She smiled and nodded. "Yes, it does."

"Tell me something, Kathryn. What's your truth?"

She felt the weight of his gaze. "You, Zeke. The life you gave me."

He took another sip of his whiskey. "It's been fifteen years since you came here. Isn't that right?"

"That sounds right."

"You were so lost when I found you. A vagrant on the streets. And now look at you. You're the pride of my heart, Kathryn."

She felt herself blus.h.i.+ng. "Why, thank you, Zeke."

"Everyone else tossed you aside like the trash they thought you were." He paused. "But I, I saw a flower waiting to be opened. And flower you have."

"Because of you."

"I gave you beauty for ashes. The oil of joy for mourning."

Her mind spun back to those ashes. Her mother and father who'd both trampled on her and thrown her into the street. James, that monster, who'd taken Eden away and forced her into an inst.i.tution.

The painful memories spread through her like a wildfire.

"Isn't that right, Kathryn?"

"I'm forever in your debt. All that I have is yours."

"Indeed. All. Because it was I who found you and gave you everything you have. I asked you to die to yourself-to give up what little life you had in return for a new one. Then I brought you back to life."

She absently rubbed the smooth nub where her pinky finger had once been. It had been Zeke's idea to fake her death in the Las Vegas hotel room so that no one would ever come looking for her.

"And then I found and gave you Eden, the daughter who would save your soul and make you whole."

"Yes, you did. Thank you, Zeke."

"Never forget that, Kathryn. And never forget that what is given can also be taken away." He offered her a gentle smile. "One word from me, and the authorities would swoop down on you and take Eden away forever."

She said nothing.

"Isn't that right, Kathryn?"

"Yes, Zeke. It is."

"I was very careful to make sure that my involvement couldn't be traced. I wanted you to bear the full responsibility for your daughter. After all, each of us must stand accountable before G.o.d and men."

He'd only made the point once before and hearing it again made her a little anxious.

"In this way you can also partic.i.p.ate in the full blessing that Eden has been and will be for all of us."

"And I am so grateful. So very grateful."

"Then you will be even more grateful when you learn why I insisted we find Eden and just how great is that blessing."

Learn? She wasn't sure what he meant.

"Tomorrow, Eden turns eighteen," he said.

"Yes, she does." What did Eden turning eighteen have to do with any blessing?

"I've known for years that this day would come," Zeke said. "I thought it best to wait until now to tell you. So you could give your full attention to being a mother."

"Tell me what?"

"After you were inst.i.tutionalized and Eden was turned over to child services, James Ringwald established a trust to provide for your daughter's future."

She sat speechless for a moment. "But he wanted nothing to do with her. Or me."

"Never underestimate the power of guilt, Kathryn. Or the mysteries of G.o.d. Remember, the wealth of the wicked is stored up for the righteous. This has been a long time coming."

"Wealth? James's wealth? How much?"

"The trust was funded with five hundred thousand dollars. The investments have since grown to three times that."

She blinked. "More than a million? And the money belongs to Eden?"

He smiled. "To all of us. But, yes, it's your birthright too. As one family, we will all share in this great abundance together. For what is yours belongs to all, just as what I have belongs to you and all my children."

"Yes, of course."

"The money becomes Eden's on her eighteenth birthday. All she has to do is claim it."

"How?"

"In two days, you and Eden will meet with a judge in town who is a very good friend of mine. He has arranged everything. The paperwork is drawn. Everything will be ready when you arrive."

"But what about the authorities? When Eden comes forward they'll know. They'll know we took her." A chill chased her spine. "They'll take her away from me."

"No. They won't. We'll have to be as wise as serpents, but I've handled everything. I hold all the strings, Kathryn. I always do. As long as you follow me, Eden's safe and so are you."

"But how?"

"The only answer to 'how' is 'yes'. All of G.o.d's promises are 'yes'. All you have to do is embrace them. Can you say yes, Kathryn?"

If there was anyone she could trust, it was Zeke. He'd practically gone to the ends of the earth to find her and give her a new start.

"Yes, of course. Yes."

"Yes."

"It just doesn't seem real. A million dollars? That's . . . that's a lot of money."

He chuckled softly. "Well, it won't all be yours, naturally. But, yes. It's a generous blessing indeed."

"I don't know what to say."

He set the gla.s.s down, reached across and laid his hand on top of hers. A rush of warmth filled her as he squeezed her hand gently. "Thank you is a start."

"Yes, of course. Thank you, Zeke. Thank you so much."

"When G.o.d's blessing comes, it's important to embrace it with a heart of grat.i.tude, Kathryn. Always remember that. I want you to dream about it tonight. Imagine what it will be like to finally see your harvest come in after all these years."

"I don't know how I could ever repay you."

"When the time comes, you will."

She nodded. "Of course I will. Anything you ask."