Wife Number Seven (The Compound, #1)(78)

“You’re showing!” I exclaimed. “It’s obvious to the world, Rebecca. Someone, anyone could have told him.”

“No, you told him. I know it, I feel it in my bones. Months and months ago, you gave me that note. The note he wrote. Anyone else would have destroyed it. But not you.”

“He loved you,” I said softly. “It was obvious in every expression, every word he spoke to me. And you missed him too. Of course I gave you the letter. How could I not?”

“Don’t you understand? It wasn’t your place!”

“You loved each other! I just wanted you to be happy. I didn’t want you to move on with Lehi if there was still a chance that you could be happy.”

“Don’t you understand? I had no choice!”

“That’s not true.” I shook my head back and forth with vigor. “We always have a choice. You could’ve met him under that tree. You could have run away, given your boys a future with two parents who loved them. But you didn’t.”

“That would have been sinful . . . and selfish.”

“Abandoning the one you love so you can get to heaven is selfish, not following your heart.”

She scoffed, looking me up and down. “You’re still seeing him, aren’t you? The angry boy who lives above the coffee store.”

I wasn’t expecting her to mention Porter. He had nothing to do with any of this.

“That’s not any of your business.” I crossed my arms in front of my chest and glared at her.

“Oh, please.” She sneered, wiping the top of her nose with her hand. Then she stopped, clutched her belly, and stared at me with wide eyes. “Just whose child are you carrying, Brinley?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said contemptuously, attempting to dismiss her accusation. But I couldn’t let my eyes meet hers. I could feel her studying me as we stood in silence.

“Is there a baby?” she pressed, and my stomach dropped to my knees. “I mean, my belly is here, clear as day, and yet you haven’t even started showing.”

Again, I was silent. But inside I was screaming.

No! No! No! No!

Rebecca can’t find out, she just can’t!

Her anger was evident in every inch of her body. If she told Lehi, I had no idea what would happen.

“You’re a wicked, wicked girl,” she shouted. “You meddle in other people’s affairs, and you abandon Heavenly Father to indulge in selfish sins of the flesh! But I never thought you’d fake a pregnancy to carry on an affair with an outsider!”

“You know nothing about me, or my feelings for Porter.” Despite trying to calm my voice, my words still came out harsh. I wouldn’t let her call me wicked. I knew well enough now that I was far from it. “You’re lashing out at me because of your own horrible decisions.”

“Horrible decisions? I was proving myself to the prophet, to Heavenly Father,” she wailed. “I gave up my one true love!”

“Because you were scared!”

“No! Because I needed to prove that my love for Heavenly Father was, and will always be, more than anyone . . . even Burt.” Her eyebrows drew together as she stared at me in confusion. “Isn’t yours?”

That answer was simple. Without hesitation, I said, “No. I love Porter more than anything. More than my own life. And I’d never turn my back on him. I love him too much to do that.”

Visibly shaken by my words, Rebecca wrapped her arms around herself, and her eyes widened in shock before narrowing in condemnation. “Then I will pray for your soul.”

Months ago, those words would have destroyed me. They would have caused me to question everything I’d ever believed, every action I’d ever taken, and every word I’d ever spoken. But on this day, I was strong enough in my conviction, strong enough in my actions, and strong enough in my own words.

“I don’t need your prayers.” I pulled my shoulders back and held my head high. “I have my own.”

I walked out her bedroom door, knowing my time in the Cluff household was coming to an end. I couldn’t trust that Rebecca would keep any of her assumptions to herself. I had to make a plan, and quickly.



Chapter 29

The crisp cotton collar of my mint green dress was slightly bent. Each time my fingers pressed it down, it jumped back up. It was determined to resist any changes I tried to force upon it. In years past, I would have taken the dress off, sprayed the collar with starch, and ironed it until it fell in line with the rest of the dress. But not today.

Today, I allowed the rebellion of my dress to inspire me.

Today was the day, my last on the compound. It had been six days since my confrontation with Rebecca, and although I wanted to believe that she’d refrain from telling Lehi about Porter, I couldn’t trust her. Instead, I had to act quickly—to say my good-byes and leave this place.

I had two good-byes that I needed to make, to Aspen and Jorjina.

The trouble was that I had to say my farewells carefully, so as not to raise any flags or to arouse suspicion, even though these were the very women I was closest with. I had to do it, though. I had to thank each of them for their kindness, their love, and their desire to protect me within the confines of our community. Aspen was surrounded by little faces when I approached her in the common area. Ruthie was seated in front of her, Aspen combing her hair before styling it in its proper braid. I pulled at the bottom of my own braid, moving it to hang just next to my bent collar. The irony wasn’t last on me as I held the intricate braid in my hand, knowing today would be the very last day in which I wore my hair this way.