Like a giraffe, Verlan’s long legs covered ground at an incredible speed, his head and shoulders leading the rest of his body. I hesitated at the gate, savoring his every movement. Blood roared in my ears, my breathing was shallow.
Suddenly he glanced over at me. Stopping abruptly, he stared at me across the plowed field. Even though a good distance separated us, our eyes locked. I searched his features, looking for a sign of feeling or emotion. As I recognized my own fear of rejection mirrored in his face, all the doubts, the confusion, and the strain bottled inside for the past six weeks sprang to the surface. I wept with relief. Raw, unrestrained emotion hit me with such force that I could scarcely stand, and I grasped at the fence for support.
The brilliant colors of autumn swayed through my tears, the morning air soft and sweetly scented by the Widmars’ fresh cut alfalfa behind me. Somewhere close by a chicken clucked. The world around me shone brilliant, a bounteous gift from God, faultlessly framing the most intense, overpowering revelation of my life. I loved Verlan LeBaron.
Through a blur I could see him motion to me. Resuming his giraffelike gait, he walked into Grandma’s backyard. He stopped under the water tower, and turning, waited for me.
My legs were shaking as I drew nearer to him. His eyes searched my face, tried to read what the tears meant. Suddenly his tense shoulders relaxed, and he opened his arms to me. Without a word, I stumbled into them. His familiar scent enveloped me, and I buried my wet cheeks on his chest. He rocked me and kissed the top of my hair, then slid his hands up to cup my face. Tipping my head up so he could see my eyes, he planted a soft kiss on the end of my nose.
“You’re so thin!” I croaked. My arms tightened around his waist.
He hesitated, searching my face. “I’ve been worried about you,” he said simply.
I knew it was true. His face was pale and the lines around his mouth deeper than I remembered. Love for me practically leaped from his eyes, and suddenly I felt so ashamed. This man in my arms was the one God had shown me was to be mine. He’d given me my own personal revelation, and I had cast it aside. I’d allowed myself to be swayed by a self-serving manipulator, who used God’s name to get what he wanted. Anger and hurt confounded me as I thought of Ervil’s treachery, and I hid my face against Verlan’s chest. My shoulders shook with grief.
“Hey! Don’t cry like that, sweetheart,” Verlan pleaded. He led me to the back steps and sat me down, his arm around my shoulders. “We’re going to get through this, somehow.”
He gazed into the field, his voice filled with pain as he said, “Irene told me about Ervil. Susan, I can’t tell you how sorry I am, or how grieved and disgusted I feel. My own brother! It’s hard to believe. Oh,” he sighed, “He’s pulled this before on other men, but I guess I thought he was above stealing his own brother’s girl. Goes to show you how wrong a man can be, doesn’t it?”
He wiped the tears from my face with a huge thumb. “We need to talk, don’t we?” He said softly. “See if there’s any way we can straighten this mess out.”
I nodded and buried my face in my palms. How could I admit to him how I’d fallen so easily into Ervil’s trap? How did you explain to someone what a scoundrel his brother was, and what an idiot you were?
Verlan’s eyes darkened with anxiety. “Honey, Ervil’s a power-hungry man. I know better than anyone does what kind of influence he’s capable of wielding over other human beings. I don’t know where it all will lead, or just what sort of scheme he has up his sleeve . . . I haven’t trusted him for months, and now, with this last trick, I’ve lost all respect for him.” He shook his head, his mouth a hard line. “Joel’s going to have to deal with him, and he just can’t put it off any longer.” He looked at me, and then looked away, squeezing my fingers nervously.
“What?” I asked, searching his face. “What else were you going to say?”
His eyes suddenly seemed black with grief. “Susan, even if Ervil made you swear not to tell anyone, you have got to tell me! I have to know. Did he have you sealed to him, too? Did he convince you to . . .”
“No!” I snapped. “I wouldn’t do it. He wanted me to, but I wouldn’t.” I stared, shocked, at Verlan. “Is that what you thought? Didn’t Irene tell you about our conversation? I would’ve told her if I was sealed to Ervil. I wouldn’t even be here with you, if that were the case. Do you mean all this time you thought I was sealed to him?”
Comprehension and joy slowly changed Verlan’s wild countenance. He grabbed me and hugged me. “Then, do I still have a chance?” he shouted. “Oh, honey, you’re no pushover, are you? I thought I was too late! Say I still have a chance with you!”
He pulled me to my feet at the edge of Grandma’s porch. His hands were trembling as he held mine, his aqua-colored eyes dark with emotion. The strain of betrayal had left his face, and his rugged features were softened as he looked down at me. With shaking voice, he said, “I love you, Susan. I have since the day I saw you sitting there in church six months ago. I knew you were supposed to be mine; I just knew. Oh, honey, are you gonna be mine? Are you gonna marry me? Will you marry me?”
I wanted to be a challenge. I wanted to make him beg me, plead for my love. But I couldn’t hide my joy and relief. I couldn’t answer him, tell him with dignity that I would be honored to be his wife. I sobbed and clung to him, and he knew.
“Susan . . .” he whispered my name. He bent his face down, his blue eyes closing as he pressed his mouth down hard against mine. Suddenly, with an impact that left my senses reeling, my dream of months ago flooded over me. Verlan—his blue eyes—his hard kiss. He had come to me, held me in his arms—whispered my name—rescued me from evil and terror—rescued me from . . . Ervil!
The knowledge rushed through me and I gasped, wide-eyed at the revelation. Ervil LeBaron? It couldn’t be. Verlan’s own brother, Ervil . . . the evil, grasping spirits in my dream? It couldn’t be true. No. It just couldn’t be true. It couldn’t be, but even as I battled against the conviction, I knew it was.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The hours, filled with meetings, dragged by. I sat with Fara and Mona in the back of the church building and tried to be inconspicuous. I was hoping Kris and Anna Mae would stay away from me, and I prayed that Ervil wouldn’t corner and pressure me.
Before Verlan left Grandma’s this morning, he’d assured me that he would “handle” Ervil. The look in his eyes as he said it had left me cold. I didn’t want to know how he would handle him. I couldn’t imagine the two of them slugging it out—it wouldn’t exactly be their style. But something dreadful was going to happen.
I watched the LeBaron men, sitting side by side on the stage behind the pulpit. To all appearances they seemed united. But I knew inside, two of them seethed at each other. Ervil was seated slightly apart from Verlan and Joel. His legs were crossed, and there was a stiffness about him, his eyes stoic and unreadable. Verlan was stern-faced. As I looked from Verlan to Ervil, the family resemblance was evident—the large bone structure, the deep-set eyes, and receding hairline. I hated that there was tension between them, and though I knew I was part of it, I was certain I wasn’t the only reason.
As soon as the meeting was out, I fled home. I couldn’t bear waiting to see if anything happened between the brothers. I just wanted it over. I wanted Ervil to know for certain that I wouldn’t marry him. After the connection between him and my dream, the thought of anything between the two of us made me ill.
It was after the evening’s talent show before I spoke with Verlan again. I’d started toward the back rooms of the church, my arms filled with the stage drapes to fold and put away. Standing in the darkness of the hallway, Verlan held Irene in his arms. He was pleading with her about something, I could tell by the tone in his voice. She was crying, and my heart ached with sudden guilt. Was he letting her know about us, and she was falling apart? I stopped short, and they both
saw me at the same time. Irene dabbed at her eyes and managed a shaky smile.
“There you are!” Verlan exclaimed, forcing cheerfulness. “I was just coming to look for you. I wanted to walk you home.”
I blushed in the semidarkness. Oh, how I wished I knew what Irene was crying about! I didn’t want her to weep because of me. I liked her so much, and she had been good to me. I wanted her to be my friend. I hoped we would be close. I didn’t want her to feel pain because Verlan was marrying me. Oh, God, couldn’t a plural marriage happen without causing pain?
Suddenly I wanted to cry. I wanted to run away and spare Irene the heartache she was feeling. Verlan was her husband! How could she not be aching inside?
“No, no, I’ll just go,” I croaked, stumbling backward. “Fara is still here, waiting for me. I’ll go home with her.”
Irene moved to me and grabbed my hand. “It’s all right, you know,” she said softly. “I want Verlan to take you home. I mean that.” She gave me a little hug. “You are going to be a wonderful addition to our family, Susan, and I couldn’t be happier. You will be a beautiful jewel in Verlan’s crown. Don’t mind my tears, okay? They’re not because of you.” She sniffed and tried to smile again. I didn’t believe her for a minute, but I admired her intensely for trying to ease my discomfort.
“You really don’t mind?” I whispered.
Verlan took the drapes out of my arms. “Here, Irene. Put these curtains away, will you. I’m going to take this girl home.” He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss, took my arm, and hurried me out the back door of the church.
We walked, hand in hand down the dark, deserted road. I wished Verlan would say something. Even more than with Estela and Lane, I felt the depth of hurting and heartache that polygamy caused. I sensed although Verlan wasn’t saying anything, he felt Irene’s torment as much as if it were his own.
“I had it out with Ervil this evening,” he said abruptly. “You won’t have to worry about him any more.”
I tensed and glanced at him. “What happened?” I asked.
“It was all I could do to keep from knocking his teeth in, if you want to know the truth,” he said dryly. “I’m not given to physical violence, but today, well, I have never come so close. You should have heard him try to oil his way out of the corner he was in. He had one excuse after another. He said you misunderstood his intentions and that you were the one who initiated the relationship between the two of you. That kind of garbage. He apologized, said he didn’t realize I was courting you.”
“Your brother is a liar,” I snapped.
Verlan visibly winced. “Oh, he has his weaknesses. His biggest problem is he thinks he’s above the law. But . . . his help as a missionary has been invaluable to the church,” Verlan’s voice trailed. “I talked to Joel about it all . . . ” I held my breath, waiting for him to continue. “He thinks we need to be patient with him.”
Verlan drew me to a stop beneath a huge cottonwood tree, and we sat down on the ditch bank. I shivered in the cool night air. Off in the distance, some caballeros were singing a mournful Mexican love song. I tried to make out the words, but the singers were too far away.
Verlan picked up a twig and started snapping it into pieces. “So?” His voice sounded loud in the quiet of the night. “What would you think about us getting married on Sunday?”
“This Sunday?” I gasped.
“I know it’s soon. But I can’t come back here again for some time, and I can’t abide the thought of leaving you, Susan. Besides, Joel’s here to perform the ceremony, and all our friends are already here because of conference. What better time for a celebration like a wedding?” His voice was becoming more enthusiastic with each word.
“But, I don’t even have a wedding dress! Or anything! I can’t possibly get everything ready in two days! I would need to see about a wedding cake, and . . . ”
“Sweetheart, whaddaya say let’s don’t go overboard. I’m sure you’ll find something nice to wear.” He squeezed my shoulder. “As for a cake and all that, you just leave that to me. Don’t even worry about it. Okay?”
I groaned and shut my eyes tight. So much for my dreams of a beautiful, fancy wedding. I reluctantly nodded my head. For Verlan, I was willing.
He pulled me to my feet, and putting his arm around me, we continued toward home. “What do you think your mom and dad will say?” he questioned. Before I could answer, he continued, “I pray they say yes, because I can hardly wait until you’re really mine.”
He kissed the top of my head. “Do you know something? That day in church last April, the day I fell in love with you, you looked like an angel sitting on that bench, smiling at me. I told myself that if there was any way on God’s green earth, I was going to make you mine. You can’t imagine the hell I went through after I got your last letter saying you were through with me. I wanted to drop everything then and run to you. But it just wasn’t possible, especially with conference so close.”
He kicked a stone out of the way and stalked along for a few paces. “If I’d had any idea what and who was behind it all, I’d have been here anyway, in a flash.”
We stopped at the gate in front of my house, and Verlan leaned against the adobe wall. “There’s one thing I want to hear before asking your folks for you,” his voice was low. “Can you tell me that you love me?”
My heart was in my throat. I’d thought about this many times, envisioning how I would say those words to him. I wanted to sound mature and romantic, my words ringing in his ears with conviction. And now the time had come. He stood waiting. I looked up at him, into his eyes that glistened in the starlight. “I love you,” I squeaked. I was mortified. I’d sounded like a scared chicken. But Verlan didn’t seem to notice. He grabbed me, squeezed me, and when he was through kissing me, my face burned from his whiskers; my lips felt bruised. We knocked on Mom’s bedroom door. Her sleep-drugged voice told us that Dad was at Maria’s. We ran around the house like two kids, giggling with excitement as we pounded on Maria’s door. As we waited, the moon came out from behind a cloud, and I could see Verlan’s face clearly. He looked relaxed and happy, and it thrilled me to think that I was the cause of his happiness. I was marrying a great, godly man. I was so lucky.
Dad finally came outside, buckling up his britches. He was barefoot and stepping gingerly. “Okay. I’m here. What’s up?” he demanded.
I could detect shakiness in Verlan’s voice. “Vern, we’ve decided we’d like to get married, and I came to ask your permission for Susan. What do you think?”
There was silence for a moment. “Well!” Dad finally grumped, scratching the top of his bald head, “I think you could have picked a better time to ask an old man than in the middle of the night. When do you propose to do all this?”
“How does Sunday night sound?”
I expected my father to shout his disapproval, but he only stared at Verlan, taken aback. Then he chuckled, “My, my. Aren’t we in a hurry! Verlan, do you realize that she barely turned fifteen a week ago? Don’t you think you’re rushing things just a little?”
Now that I had decided to be married in two days, I couldn’t bear the thought of putting it off. “But, Dad,” I began, “I’m as old as . . .”
Verlan interrupted me. “I would take good care of her, Vern. She’s young in years, but she’s mighty wise, in more ways than you know. She’s ready to make a marriage commitment. I love her, Vern.”
“Well,” Dad paused, “If it was anyone but you . . .Well, let’s go see what her mother has to say. Let me get my shoes.”
Soon we were standing in a little group in our living room. Dad presented the question to my mother, and she quietly said, “If it was anyone but you, Verlan, I wouldn’t even consider it. But something tells me that you are the right man for Susan. You may as well go ahead.”
Verlan kissed me in front of Mom and Dad. He pumpe
d my father’s hand and kissed Mom on the cheek. “You won’t be sorry,” he assured them. Then, with a wave of the hand, he was gone.
I shivered with excitement as I got ready for bed. I thought about waking Fara up and telling her, but I decided to wait until tomorrow. I felt such a mixture of emotions, now that it was settled. I was thrilled and scared. How would Verlan’s family accept me? It was going to be a shock to his wives, except for Irene. What would I do if some of them were angry? Where would I live? I hadn’t thought to ask Verlan these questions. I wasn’t even sure about how many children he had. Somewhere around twenty-five, I thought.
Slowly it dawned that I was placing my entire future into the hands of a man that I scarcely knew. It was practically said and done! It took a lot of faith and trust in an individual to do what I was doing. But then, Verlan LeBaron wasn’t just anyone.
Verlan had made arrangements to have the wedding in Brother and Sister Wakeham’s living room. The ceremony was set for nine o’clock. It was almost time for my wedding, and I sat in the Wakehams’ bedroom in the middle of the bed. The beautiful, lace wedding gown that had belonged to Esther Spencer’s daughter, Doris, was puffed up around me like billowy clouds. Francisca’s white pumps, the toes stuffed with tissue, stuck out in front of me.
The minutes passed as I fidgeted alone in the bedroom. Doris, who had gleefully insisted that, since she had loaned me the dress, she should be the one to help me, had left me to see what was keeping Verlan and the men. It was after nine, and the men, who were in still another meeting, were running late. Verlan, my sweet Verlan, was late for our wedding.
I scooted to the edge of the bed and gingerly stood, then walked to the bathroom, so I could have a look at myself without being under Doris’s scrutinizing gaze. I peered at my face by the lamplight and wished that I had my mascara. Doris had taken it with her, along with my makeup bag. “You want to look young and innocent when you walk down that aisle,” sheinsisted. “Not like a made-up woman of the world. Uncle Verlan will like you better just the way you are, believe me.”
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