Wife Number Seven (The Compound, #1)(7)

“I know, and I am . . . right now, in fact,” I lied.

“You are?” His face lit up slightly and I nodded, lying again.

The only acceptable reason for sex between two people in our church was for procreation. And after three years, I still hadn’t given him what was expected of me. Obviously the problem did not lie with Lehi. He had twenty-five children with the six wives who came before me. It was me. I was the problem.

But I simply wasn’t ready. Something was holding me back.

“That would truly be a blessing,” Lehi said over his shoulder as he pulled his boxer shorts back on.

“Yes,” I said.

“Please keep me posted. You should know in a few weeks, right?”

Considering how many children Lehi had already fathered, he knew very little about a woman’s cycle. Perhaps it was because he switched bedrooms every night. Or maybe it was because there were many months that two or even three of his wives were all pregnant at the same time, one further along than the next. It must have been hard to keep up, especially considering that sex between a pregnant woman and her husband was forbidden. They’d succeeded in creating a life. Sex was no longer deemed necessary or appropriate once a woman had conceived. Once the baby is born, though, it was business as usual.

“Yes. I will tell you.”

Lehi inched closer to me and placed his hand on my cheek. “I’m sure you must be frustrated. But we’ll get there. Perhaps we should pray together.”

My stomach churned. I hated false prayer. God knew when I was lying. Not only was I sinning by preventing pregnancy with my husband, but I kneeled on the floor next to him, week after week, pretending to pray to God to give us a baby when it was the last thing I truly wanted.

Of course, I’d be less lonely if I had a baby. I could imagine myself with the tiniest of little girls. I’d sew pink dresses for her and knit little blush booties. I’d snuggle her and love her and protect her with everything I am. But not yet.

Together we knelt, facing the bed, our elbows resting on the mattress. I closed my eyes as Lehi spoke for the both of us.

“Dear Heavenly Father, we thank you for this consummation in the hopes that you will allow Brinley to become pregnant. Lord, we pray that you’ll give her the gift of motherhood, to secure her place in your kingdom. In Jesus’s name, we pray.”

“Amen,” we said together.

Lehi took my hand in his and planted an obligatory kiss on my skin. “It’s time for bed. I have an early day tomorrow.”

I nodded before climbing to my feet.

“You should wash that stuff off your face.” His words were matter of fact, as if he was in denial that the “stuff” on my face was completely for him, for his desires and his needs.

Without complaint, I excused myself to the bathroom to scrub my face, and pushed down the irritation that bubbled beneath my skin. When I finished preparing myself for sleep, I returned to our bed. Lehi was facing the wall, his rib cage rising and falling as he breathed heavily.

I stared up at the ceiling, wondering how long I could keep my secret. How long it would be before I was found out—by Lehi or Leandra or the midwife who assisted in birthing all the Cluff children.

I knew that day would come. And I knew that God would punish me.

For preventing pregnancy and for keeping secrets.

For not loving my husband.

For not giving him all of myself, all of my heart, my body, and my soul.

Every day I merely went through the motions knowing that it was unacceptable, and that I would most certainly be punished. Perhaps not today or tomorrow, or even next year. But it would happen.

I knew that I should be determined to fix whatever it was that was broken inside me, to welcome a child into my womb, to accept my role as Lehi’s seventh wife.

I simply didn’t know how.


Chapter 4

Another day going into town. I was elated. I’d been lucky that week and had been sent twice by Leandra. Today it was my responsibility to visit the local pharmacy for vitamins, batteries, and cosmetics. Leandra had obviously requested that I be discreet so as not to embarrass our husband and his desire for painted faces in the bedroom. Gladly, I accepted the chore.

As always, I grabbed my purse and reached in to check for the plastic disk in the hidden compartment. It was still there; no one had discovered my secret yet. I could only hope that by the time I was ready to stop taking them, the secret would remain mine.

When I stepped outside the confines of our home, I felt a prickle between my shoulder blades, as if someone’s eyes were upon me. It was unsettling so I scanned the property, but couldn’t see anyone following me. It had to be my imagination. When I approached the edge of the compound, my suspicions were validated.

“Pardon me,” a gruff voice said behind me. A tall, handsome man with blond hair shot through with silver jogged to catch up to me.

I stiffened, knowing immediately who this man was.

Burt Jameson.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” he said, running his fingers through his hair. His blue eyes were sunken and bloodshot, as if he hadn’t slept well in weeks.

Just like Rebecca.

“Miss Brinley, right? You’re my wi—I mean, you’re Rebecca’s sister wife?”

I nodded, trying to avoid direct eye contact. If I were seen talking to Burt, I could be in all sorts of trouble with Lehi, or even the prophet. It was best to be as dismissive as possible.