The Prodigal Bride

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by Rayanna Jamison




  The Prodigal Bride

  By

  Rayanna Jamison

  ©2014 by Blushing Books® and Rayanna Jamison

  All rights reserved.

  No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Blushing Books®,

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  Author

  Title

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-62750-488-1

  Cover Design by ABCD Graphics & Design

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

  Table of contents:

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  Rayanna Jamison

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  Prologue

  "Miss, I'm sorry Miss, but you can't just sit here without ordering something. Can I get you a soda or coffee or something?" The blue haired waitress, whose nametag read 'Dottie,' brought Sophia jolting back to reality with her words.

  She opened her mouth to tell the woman that she didn't drink caffeinated beverages, that it was against her religion, when she realized that the reason she was sitting in the roadside café in the first place was because only hours ago she had run away, leaving the religious community that was the only home she had ever known.

  She hadn't meant to leave the religion—that had never been her plan. It had just happened. As usual she hadn't thought, only acted. She realized too late, that she couldn't go home now, not after what she had just done.

  The waitress was still standing over her, glairing through her cat-eyed glasses, waiting for a response. Her heart beat hard and fast against her chest. What was it her father always said? Go big or go home. Well, she wasn't going home, so she might as well go big, right?

  "I'll have a Cola," she squeaked out, looking over her shoulder guiltily. There was no one there to tell her no, to shake their head or cluck their tongue at her supposed sins. She was all alone, and completely free, whatever that meant.

  The waitress, Dottie, had already scurried away, returning almost immediately with the forbidden drink.

  Sophia just stared at the dark amber fluid, gathering her thoughts. If she didn't drink it, if she never took that first sip, maybe it wouldn't be too late. Maybe she could get back in her car, head home, and plead forgiveness. It was only an hour drive back to safety and security.

  In an hour, the wedding guests would have scattered, and the church and reception hall would be dismantled from the festivities, after the wedding that never was.

  But perhaps it wouldn't be too late. She could explain. Jitters, cold feet, she would tell them all. She was after all, only nineteen. Her parents would understand. But would Hiram? Would he still want to marry her? And if he did, did she really want to marry him? Wasn't that the question that had gotten her here in the first place?

  Gulping, she remembered the last conversation she had had with him, last night, after the rehearsal dinner. Her face flushed and her heart pounded in her chest.

  She picked up the glass in front of her and took a sip, savoring the icy sweet liquid as it traveled down her throat. It tasted like freedom. She guzzled it greedily, draining the glass, threw $3 down on the table for Dottie and walked out.

  Chapter 1

  The beat up red Honda Civic had surely seen better days. Sophia winced as it crawled down the deserted highway at a snail's pace. Ironically, its first trip so many years ago had been the day she left Green Valley. It looked like her return trip, now ten years later, might be the old girls last. The thought made her sad. Ol' Bess, as she fondly thought of her car, had been the one constant in her life.

  The engine lurched, sputtered, and chugged. Smoke began to rise ominously from the hood. Sophia gripped the steering wheel harder and muttered a prayer under her breath. She wasn't actually sure anymore that there was a Heavenly Father watching out for her, but the prayers were a second nature, the one thing from childhood she hadn't completely abandoned. Besides, she reasoned, if there really was a God, she needed him now more than ever.

  She was now just twenty-five miles outside of the polygamist community she had grown up in. If Ol' Bess could just make it that much farther, Sophia prayed.

  It was getting late in the day, her babies had fallen asleep in the backseat, and she hadn't been home to Green Valley since the day she took off and left Hiram Jefferson at the altar more than ten years ago.

  She could have come home at any time. She knew that her family would have welcomed her with open arms. While the community was highly religious, they were also family oriented. Unlike some communities in their same faith, they did not preach against those who left the church to find their own way.

  Yet Sophia had left at the age of nineteen and had never looked back. It had been easier that way. Polygamist women didn't leave their intended husbands at the altar and take off without a word, which is exactly what Sophia had done. She was pretty sure she had been the first, and possibly the last, to ever do such a thing, at least in Green Valley.

  The sad thing was she knew when she did it that Hiram hadn't deserved the hurt she was causing him. She had had no good reason for her decision other than being young and scared. Sophia had been nineteen to Hiram's twenty-eight. Being older and more serious than free spirited, impetuous Sophia was as far as she knew, Hiram's only fault. He truly was undeserving of the rumors and scandal that had undoubtedly followed her abrupt departure.

  It was no one's fault. Sophia reasoned that she just wasn't cut out for plural marriage, and especially not cut out to be with someone as cold and inflexible as Hiram Jefferson.

  In fact, Sophia had been in a fulfilling, happy, monogamous marriage for seven years. Robert had been everything that Hiram wasn't. He was fun loving, spontaneous, a dreamer, and a dream chaser. He loved adventure and lived every day as if it might be his last. He worked to live instead of the other way around, and treasured every moment he could spend with family and friends. He had been a good husband to her, and a great father to Bobby and Zoe. Until a year and a half ago, when he was diagnosed with Stage four brain cancer. Four months later, he was gone.

  His life insurance policy had barely covered the medical bills, and what was left hadn't been much, but it had helped her hang on for a little while. But after a year, she had to face facts. There was no way they could survive any longer on her wages from the school, and there was no way she could keep doing this alone. The cost of living in the city was way too high, and her resources were shot.

  As hard as it may be for her, her kids deserved to be around family. She cashed out her meager retirement plan and used the money to travel back to Green Valley. There was nothing else she could do.

  She was going to stay with her brother, Ben, and his two wives, Mollie and Beth Anne.

/>   Ben was her closest sibling of all sixteen of her brothers and sisters. They were closest in age and relationship, and they were full siblings rather than half. Ben was twenty-seven to her twenty-nine. She knew it had devastated him when she left. He had only been seventeen at the time, and about to head off to college, but as soon as he had been able, he had hired a private investigator to track her down. After he located her, he sent letters, cards, and emails, until he had finally wore her down into contacting him.

  Now, they spoke on the phone every week. Since Robert's death, he had begun to call more often. At first, he had just called to check on her and the kids but, once it became more and more obvious that they were struggling, he spent more and more time trying to persuade her to come home. He eventually won that battle, and she found herself looking forward to being back with her family.

  She had hoped to surprise Ben and make it back in time for his wedding to Beth Anne, but life had gotten in the way and it hadn't been possible. The Honda had needed new tires before she could make such a trip, and Zoe had gotten a bad flu bug, making it impossible for her to work the hours needed to pay for the new tires.

  Sophia figured it was for the best anyway. Ben, Mollie, and Beth Anne had needed that time to settle in to their new family without her and her crew adding their chaos to the mix. It had now been about four months since the wedding, and according to Ben, things were just finally beginning to settle down.

  Sophia chuckled to herself. Ben surely had his hands full with those two without adding herself, Zoe, and Daniel to the mix. Beth Anne and Mollie were five years younger than she was, but she remembered them all right. Those two had been a handful even back then. They hadn't been overly bad, just full of good intentions gone astray. Sophia could only imagine what they would be like now, and wondered if they had mellowed out at all. Even if they had, two best friends sharing a husband sounded like a recipe for disaster if you asked her. But, Ben had assured her repeatedly that they were getting on just fine, and that they had plenty of room for her and the kids.

  "Mommy, I have to go pee-pee," Zoe's sleepy voice piped up from the back seat interrupting her thoughts.

  "Are you serious? Can you hold it just a bit longer sweetie? We're almost to your Uncle Ben's!"

  Sophia was pretty sure that if she pulled over now and stopped the car, she would never get it started again, not to mention that they were pretty much in the middle of nowhere.

  "No, Mommy. I have to go now! Right. Now." For such a small girl, Zoe had a big voice, and an even bigger personality.

  Shoot. Sophia racked her brain. It was possible that she could pull over and leave the car running, and find a bush somewhere Zoe could squat behind. She was pretty sure she had some napkins in the glove box. It wasn't ideal, but it would have to do. Zoe was two and a half and just barely potty trained. Sophia could not count on her being able to hold it the rest of the way to Green Valley.

  Seeing no other feasible option, Sophia scanned the road ahead for a good place to pull over. She had just spotted a clearing on a shoulder of the road with some trees off to the distance that looked like they would provide some privacy when Zoe's high-pitched wail sounded from the backseat. It was more of a cry than a whine this time, and Sophia rushed to reassure her.

  "It's okay, baby, we're almost to a spot where we can take a potty break okay?" She spoke in a calm, even manner, even though Zoe's cry was quickly grating on her already shot nerves.

  Reaching the pull-off spot, she eased the car to the side of the deserted country highway and said a little prayer that the car wouldn't die.

  "It's too late!" Zoe wailed from the backseat. "I already peed."

  Sophia cursed as she turned and saw the stain spreading across the gray fabric that covered Zoe's booster seat. Just then, the Honda gave a huge creaking groan, sputtered again, and died.

  Chapter 2

  Hiram was on his way home from a two-day education conference in the city. He was distracted, thinking about the text he had received earlier from his wife, Phoebe. He sighed, remembering it. Only three words long, it had said simply, 'I love Lucy,' and despite his first wife's name actually being Lucy, it had nothing to do with Phoebe's fondness for her sister wife. Rather, it was Phoebe's silly code she had made up years ago—her sly way of letting him know that she had done something wrong, and that he was going to have to discipline her when he got home.

  He had been in a class on bullying prevention when he received it, and hadn't responded at the time. He had no idea what the text was about until he noticed that he also had a missed call from his brother, Josiah. That told him everything he needed to know. Josiah was a cop, and his call, combined with Phoebe's text, was pretty much a guaranteed indicator that Phoebe had gotten another speeding ticket. Speeding was pretty much the only reason his second wife ever got in trouble at all. This was the second ticket this month, which meant that he would have to be very strict with her to get the message through. And, he would probably have to take away her car keys again.

  Damn. She had just gotten them back after the last ticket. He hated doing that, but she obviously hadn't learned her lesson, and if she got a third ticket within ninety days, she would lose her license for six months—not to mention what it would do to their insurance rates. With Lucy sick, they relied on Phoebe a lot to pick up the slack with kids and household errands. If he took her keys away for a few weeks, they would manage, but if she lost her license for months, it would make all their lives a lot more difficult.

  Hiram was so caught up in his thoughts about Phoebe, that he almost missed seeing the woman crying outside the smoking car on the side of the deserted road. In fact, it didn't quite register in his exhaustion-muddled brain until he had driven right past, and turned around a bend on the windy highway. When it clicked, he quickly pulled off the road, exited his truck, and hurried to walk over, intending to offer his assistance.

  As he came around the bend, he could clearly hear the high-pitched wail of a small child. By the sounds of it, the child in question was a girl, and no more than two or three years old. He quickened his pace, taking in the scene before him as he approached.

  The Honda was ancient, and by the looks of it, completely toast, he thought wryly, watching the smoke billow up from under the hood. He would take a look, but he doubted there would be anything he could do for the car itself. He didn't know where the woman was headed, but maybe he could offer a ride to a garage or a motel, or, a car dealership.

  A little boy, in cutoff jeans and a wrinkled, faded tank sat in the grass beside the car with his nose buried in a book. At first glance, Hiram would have guessed him to be at about five, but judging by the paperback he was reading, which was a scientific fantasy that was a favorite with his own sons, he had to be at least seven, and a very advanced reader at that. The boy was munching a banana as he read, and Hiram wondered how long they had been there and how many people had driven right past, too self-absorbed and busy with their own schedules to take time out for a simple good deed. He sighed. Unfortunately, that was the norm for people these days.

  He looked on as he approached. The mother hadn't spotted him yet. She was bent over leaning into the backseat of the vehicle, likely attending to the still wailing child. He could see now as he got closer, a pair of long tanned legs emerging from a pair of denim shorts that, in Hiram's mind, were hardly decent.

  He was annoyed to find that her shorts were even more immodest up close. From his angle, with her bent over like that, he could almost see her bottom crease peeking out beneath the hem. Hiram sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of her golden flesh. His gaze traveled upwards, and he noticed that her top was equally skimpy and inappropriate. The bright red sequined tank rode up on her midsection, exposing the small of her back and Hiram grimaced. If either of his wives ever dared leave the house dressed like that, he would have worn them out into next week!

  She must be passing through on her way to Las Vegas, Hiram figured. The City of Sin was a mere three hou
rs away. Although, judging by the state of her car, she wouldn't be making it there, or anywhere, anytime soon. He resolved to do what he could to help, and get her on her way as soon as possible. He cleared his throat, attempting to get her attention, as she continued to rummage around in the backseat, fussing with the crying toddler.

  He fidgeted with his collar. It was scorching hot outside, and he was still in a three-piece suit, having not bothered to change after the conference.

  "Excuse me, Ma'am," Hiram tried once more. She must not have heard him, as she didn't move from her prone position. The boy in the grass was stealing glances in his direction, but didn't acknowledge his presence in any way. Well, judging by the way his mother looked, it figured that they boy had no manners. Hiram was hot, annoyed, and was beginning to wish he had never stopped to help in the first place.

  He cleared his throat and tried again. "Ma'am, I'd like to offer my assistance in any way possible. Perhaps I could take a look under the hood, or call for a tow truck…." He trailed off, not quite willing to go so far as to offer the scantily clad woman and her rude children a ride into town.

  "Oh!" she exclaimed, and straightened, emerging finally holding a blonde cherub of a girl with a tear stained face in her arms. Although she was now upright and out of the vehicle, her gaze remained on something inside the car as she rambled. "Oh, thank you sir, that's so kind. You don't know how many people I watched just drive right on by while gawking at us. Honestly, people are so rude these days. There's nothing to do for the car though, of that I'm sure. I'm just thankful that we were able to make it this far! I really couldn't trouble you for a lift. I wouldn't want to put you out like that."

  Never mind the fact, Hiram thought wryly, that he hadn't offered. But the woman paid no attention to that, or to him, as she was still focused on something inside the broken down car.

 

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