“Probably most people have assumed what they hear is rumor and nothing more. But they’re growing more suspicious as yet a third brother falls into the ménage category.” Adam took another bite and moaned around the flavor. “Delicious as always, hon.” He set his hand on Carlie’s and squeezed.
If Zach and Corbin still loved Laurie half as much as Adam clearly did Carlie after thirty years, Laurie figured her life would be perfect.
»»•««
“Can you believe it?” Ada shook her head and pursed her lips as she continued to whip her knitting needles back and forth in her lap.
“Believe what?” Mary asked. She’d arrived late and just sat on the sofa in Ada’s small living room where the ladies of the Church on the Hill met once a week for Bible study and knitting prayer shawls. Mary had never been interested in knitting, but she came to the meetings anyway and sipped coffee while the others worked.
Florence gasped. “Haven’t you heard the news?” The older woman pressed her palm against her chest as if someone had died.
Mary widened her eyes. “Is everyone okay?”
Florence shook her head. “No. Some people are destined for Hell. And that’s not okay. It shouldn’t be okay for anyone. And it’s our job to spread the word of God and make sure people are informed that their decisions affect their destiny.”
“What happened?” Mary fought against rolling her eyes. When old women got together and decided to speak in cryptic terms, she had to battle for patience.
Ada set her knitting needles down. “Those Masters boys happened, that’s what.”
“The Masters? You mean Carlie and Adam’s kids?”
“The very ones.” Florence leaned forward, lowering her voice as if what she had to say were a secret, and if she spoke too loudly, the neighbors might hear. “From what I hear, several of them are living in sin.”
Jesus. Was anyone going to spit out their concern?
Mary had only been in town about six months. She was marginally familiar with the Masters family only because everyone in town was. They owned and operated the ski resort, one of the most lucrative businesses in Cambridge.
Mary waited for someone else to speak. She didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of asking a third time for more information.
Finally, Ada continued, “Three of their boys are practicing polygamy.” She said that last word as though she’d taken the Lord’s name in vain.
Seriously? In Cambridge? Polygamy? She wanted to reserve judgment until she had more definitive information, since these ladies were undoubtedly speaking out of turn.
Ada shook her head as she resumed her knitting. “I knew that family was bad news years ago. Four boys. Tsk. And then a girl. That poor girl is probably filled with sin being raised on the heels of those hooligans.”
That sounded absurd. “Lots of people have five children. What’s wrong with that?”
Ada’s gaze shot up. “Oh nothing’s wrong with raising more of God’s children, but that family does not go to church. Heathens.”
Mary blinked in shock. Lots of people do not go to church, she thought. I don’t think God intends for us to judge them. She had to swallow her strange reaction to these women. If she’d been present for this same conversation a few months ago, she would have had an entirely different reaction. But now…
“My grandson Ed the Third told my husband that…” She cleared her throat.
Mary nearly rolled her eyes at the way Ada said “husband” as though Edmund were royalty instead of the seventy-year-old pastor of their church.
Ada continued, “His friend Caleb, who works at the resort, said that he saw a woman come down the mountain the other day with two men.” She released her knitting needle in her right hand to fan her face as though it were suddenly too hot in the room. “One of those men was a Masters. The other was a deputy from the reservation who moonlights here in Cambridge at the resort.”
Ada rolled her eyes. “Don’t even get me started on those Indians being employed here on our side of the lake while we have hardworking white men all over the place without decent jobs.” She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, those boys were with a woman—a redheaded hussy who just arrived in town. The chit was with them. As in with them.” She covered her mouth after stating that last part.
Mary stiffened. A redheaded woman? Darnit. She’d met a redhead just that afternoon. The sweet woman who’d come into her preschool looking for a job. She was new in town also. What were the chances two redheaded women had just moved to Cambridge? “Is it possible this kid Caleb exaggerated? Or maybe even made the story up?”