Wife Number Seven (The Compound, #1)(29)

“With Lehi. Does it . . . Do you . . . I mean, do you have an org—”

“Brinley!” Aspen said, her eyes wide, her cheeks as red as plum tomatoes. “You’ve been talking to Rebecca, haven’t you?”

“I just—”

“I lay with Lehi for procreation.” Her voice raised. “I lay with him to make babies for Heavenly Father’s celestial kingdom. That is all.”

“But Lehi has them,” I argued.

“Listen to me. Men have to have them. It won’t work if they don’t. Everyone knows that.” She gritted her teeth. “Now, stop it.”

“I just—”

“No! Ever since Rebecca came into our family, you’ve been odd and I don’t like it, Brinley. I don’t like it one bit.”

“But I—”

“She loved her husband, and look where that got her. Don’t let her lead you into false fantasies.”

Her eyes were flinty in a way I’d never seen from her, fierce yet protective. Much like she’d look at her own children.

“Be smart,” she told me. “Our duty is to produce children for our husband, for Heavenly Father. It is not to fornicate or indulge our desires.” Aspen turned on her heel and quickened her pace, heading directly for our home.

“Yes, Aspen,” I muttered, following several paces behind. And wishing I’d never opened my mouth.

I’d lost Rebecca. I couldn’t be foolish enough to lose Aspen.

I had to be smart.

When we reached our block, something caught my attention from the corner of my eye. Samuel. He was waving at me, swinging his arms in a subtle attempt to grab my attention, and he succeeded. But acknowledging his gesture would be the most foolish thing I could possibly do. There was only one reason Samuel would want to speak with me.

Porter.

I couldn’t handle that. Not at that moment. Possibly not ever.

So I ignored him and obediently followed my sister wife to our home, all the while pinching the skin of my wrist until it bled.



Chapter 12

I couldn’t avoid it any longer. It was time to go to town.

Luckily, Leandra was more than pleased to give me a rather long list of errands. None of the other sister wives had volunteered when I’d declined the week before to visit my mother. Leandra had asked Lehi, but conveniently he’d forgotten. When she pressed him about it, he reminded of her of the giant responsibilities on his shoulders.

“There are eight of you,” he’d told her. “You cannot expect me to run errands. Get it done.”

As much as I disliked Leandra, I knew it was time for me to volunteer. Time to face my fears. So I offered to run Leandra’s errands, and she shoved the envelope with the money and the list with a grateful sigh.

It didn’t rain often in our little corner of Utah, but on this day the skies were overcast, the clouds ominous. When a cool breeze brushed past me, goose bumps ran up my arms, stinging the open wound on my wrist. I pulled my sleeve down to cover it, but wished I’d remembered to cover it with a bandage.

When I approached Samuel’s post, he crossed his arms in front of his chest and hardened his expression. I wanted to run back to my house and hide, but I couldn’t. It was time to face my first obstacle of the day.

“Well, look who it is.”

“Hello, Samuel.” He’d always been kind to me, but not today. Today, he was hostile, angry. I glanced briefly in his direction before looking down at my shoes.

“Stay right there,” he said, then walked to rummage inside a backpack behind the fence. When he returned, he placed a folded piece of paper in my hand. “I told you to keep me out of it.”

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb.” He gestured to the paper in my hand. “He told me to give that to you. Threatened to kick the snot out of me if I didn’t.”

“Is that what he said?”

Samuel grimaced. “Well, those aren’t the words he used, but yes.”

“I’m sorry. I had no idea.” I clutched my stomach as it churned, upset that Samuel was angry with me. The list of those who were currently displeased with me seemed to be ever growing.

“That’s fine. But tell him to keep me out of it. You hear me?” Samuel’s eyes grew wide, and a large vein in his neck pulsed as he spoke.

“Y-yes, I understand.” I nodded quickly, then cleared my throat and walked away as quickly as possible. When I reached the corner of the next block, I opened the note. My fingers trembled as I unfolded the paper.

Where ARE you?

Those simple words were scribbled in the center of the paper. I flipped it over once, and then again, looking for more but there was nothing. Despite its brevity, his message was clear. He’d asked to see me again and I’d gone against my promise to try. Instead, I’d hidden from him, from us.

It seemed that no matter what I did, I’d be haunted by guilt. I could abandon my family, my belief system, and my God, or I could walk away from Porter, the one man who had ever stirred my heart. But the guilt would follow me nevertheless. I wouldn’t escape it, I couldn’t.

No matter what.

? ? ?

When I reached the door of the clinic, I told myself to stand up straight, to walk tall, to be strong. But I felt my body betray me as my shoulders dropped and drew in from shame.