But now, she could hear the sweet words he had whispered afterwards, and remember the loving way he had touched her when he dropped her off at her parent's home.
At the time, she had been sure she had no other option but to flee, rather than stay and be wed to what she had thought was an abusive man.
Sophia groaned. She had apparently gotten it all wrong, and her whole life had changed because of it. She could see it now, how her naiveté and over active imagination had shaped her decision, a decision that had changed everything. How different would her life have been if she had stayed? Sophia knew in her heart that Hiram was a good man. He was a good man who God had wanted her to have as a husband.
What's done is done, she told herself. Yes, her life had turned out differently than she had expected, and it had certainly not been easy, but she had loved being married to Robert, and could not imagine her life without Bobby and Zoe.
Yes, things had definitely turned out for the best. She had been out of the community for so long now, she knew she could never truly belong again. While it was wonderful to be near family and friends, she was not cut out for the lifestyle of plural marriage. She resolved then and there to get a job and get on her feet as soon as possible, and make a life for herself outside the community.
She would move into a neighboring secular town as soon as possible. She wanted to stay close to her family, but also put as much distance between herself and Hiram Jefferson as she possibly could.
Chapter 7
Hiram awoke early the following Friday, not having slept well at all. Memories of Sophia Randall had been invading his dreams all week and he spent most nights this week tossing and turning about. Finally, wishing not to awaken Lucy—she'd had a difficult night and was in a lot of pain—he arose early and fixed himself a pot of coffee. Sitting at the table with a steaming mug of decaf and his trusty notepad, Hiram began to make a list.
Hiram always had a list. He liked order, structure, and rules. He had always been that way, and he ruled his home accordingly. Lucy was like him in that way, but as a woman, she had a softer approach. She took a different means to the same end. Hiram had learned long ago that her way often worked better, so as long as they had the same end goal, he usually followed her lead.
But this time that was not the case. Hiram had tried all week to convince her to come around to the idea of hiring someone to help her during the school year when he and Phoebe went back to work, but Lucy had dug in her heels and refused. With her diagnosis so fresh, she was not ready to admit that she needed help, and not willing to share her burden with a stranger. Hiram understood where she was coming from, but he knew that he had to do what was best for not only her, but the entire family. She would need the help. If he allowed her to do everything by herself, it would only worsen her condition. In the end, he put his foot down, and Lucy had begrudgingly agreed, narrowly escaping a spanking over the matter.
Hiram had withheld for now, but he wasn't altogether convinced he wouldn't end up having to punish her over the issue. Her attitude was majorly toeing the line, so Hiram had backed off and asked Phoebe to help him write the ad and interview people.
It didn't happen often that Phoebe was the sensible one of his wives. Hiram wasn't saying that to be mean, it was just the truth. Phoebe and Lucy were complete opposites, but they worked together well, and adored each other. Sometimes, they tended to gang up on him, but not this time. Phoebe had sided with him, clearly seeing that this was the best option for all involved, even if Lucy couldn't yet share the vision.
So, that's where they stood on the issue, and Hiram was grateful that Phoebe was also an early riser, and would likely be awakening soon. Hopefully, the two of them could write the ad and call it in to the local paper before Lucy even woke up.
* * * * *
Sophia was in the kitchen, fretting over dinner preparations, even though dinner was still hours away, and she wasn't even the one doing the cooking. Tonight was the night her parents were coming to dinner, and she was nearly beside herself with anticipation.
She had helped Mollie clean the house from top to bottom yesterday and gone shopping with Beth Anne this morning for new sundresses for her and Zoe, and a new outfit for Bobby. Not that her parents would care what her or the children looked like, Sophia knew they wouldn't. It was just another way for her to keep busy and to ensure that everything went as smoothly as possible.
"Mama! All done," came Zoe's triumphant cry from the dining table, and Sophia looked over with a grimace. It was a good thing she hadn't given Zoe a bath yet.
Her daughter was covered nearly head to toe in the leftover spaghetti sauce from last night's dinner that Sophia had reheated for lunch. Years of living hand to mouth, and paycheck to paycheck, had instilled a waste not want not mentality in Sophia. Still, she wondered idly if it wouldn't have been a better idea to save the spaghetti for tomorrow's lunch instead.
Zoe slammed her hand down on the table gleefully, sending a spray of sauce towards the kitchen wall. Sophia sprang to action, grabbing Zoe from her booster seat, and holding her at arm's length, as she made her way to the bathroom. She was just starting up the stairs when the screen door slammed, and in walked Bobby, soaking wet and covered in mud, happily holding up his 'treasure'—a margarine container full of worms he had dug up for him and Ben to use when they went fishing on Saturday.
"Oh my heck," Sophia sighed, grateful that she still had hours before her parents arrived. "Take those clothes off before you track mud all through the house, and then come upstairs and I'll start a shower for you in my bathroom," she told her mud soaked child, once again grateful for Ben's large house and extra bathrooms.
Sophia wouldn't have thought that things could get any crazier at that moment, but of course, they did.
Just then, the doorbell rang. Beth Anne came flying out of her room, nearly crashing into Sophia in her rush to get to the door. She stopped just short of Sophia and Zoe, looking frantically between them and Bobby, and the door. She opened her mouth, closed it, and then opened it again.
Sophia sighed uneasily. She did not need any drama right now. "Don't worry about the mess Beth Anne. I will handle it as soon as I get these two cleaned up."
Whoever was at the door was very impatient, as just then the bell rang three more times in succession.
"It's the old guy in the truck," said Bobby, knowingly. "He was watching me catch worms. He looked like Uncle Ben, 'cept he was really old." His nose crinkled at that last part, and Sophia's eyes widened as realization sunk in. She froze staring helplessly at Beth Anne, who was nodding, confirming Bobby's words and Sophia's fear.
Mollie, who had been napping but must have been woken by the commotion, entered the hallway, her eyes groggy from sleep. "What in the heck is going on?" she asked, sounding annoyed. "Who's at the door and why isn't anyone answering it?"
"Owen's here. Evidently, he saw Bobby. I'm going to stall, and try to get rid of him, but I doubt it will work."
Mollie's eyes widened as she listened and took in the sight of the muddy and sauce covered children, and the frozen in place Sophia.
Beth Anne took charge. "Mollie, you clean up Zoe's mess, then come up and help Sophia get the kids cleaned up. Sophia, strip them down to their undies and throw them in the shower together. There's no time for anything else. You can do whatever you need to do for yourself as soon as Mollie gets up there to help you."
With a plan in place, they sprang into action, the three of them heading in different directions. Beth Anne went to the door, where Owen was starting to holler, Mollie towards the kitchen mess, and Sophia and the kids to the bathroom.
Once in the bathroom with the kids, Sophia was frantic and she knew she was shaking. She tried to keep her cool for the children's sake. She knew Beth Anne would try her hardest to convince Owen that everything was fine, and that they would see him for dinner—but the fact that he showed up hours before dinner, out of the blue, was a pretty good indication that he already knew something was
going on. She never should have gone into town with Beth Anne this morning. They had gone early, but people had obviously seen her, and word must have gotten back to Owen rather quickly. If he had seen Bobby—the jig was up. Beth Anne would try her hardest, and she might even be able to stall long enough for Sophia to make herself presentable, but Owen was a force to be reckoned with. If he wanted in, he would eventually get in.
She washed up the kids as quickly as she could, and was grateful when Mollie appeared to help.
"I don't think she'll be able to hold him off much longer," Mollie whispered loudly. "You go change. I'll get Zoe taken care of."
Sophia nodded her agreement. She was in slacks and a grimy tee, not presentable for company of any sort, but especially not in the community. Here, women wore dresses or skirts, modern ones but still modest, and they never wore jeans or slacks. Sophia had been twenty-one before she had owned a pair of jeans.
She giggled at the memory as she donned her new dress. Now, a dress felt much more foreign to her than a pair of slacks, but not too long ago, it had been exactly the opposite. She quickly brushed her hair into a braid, and refreshed her make-up, just in case.
Finally, knowing Beth Anne would not be able to stall much longer, she said a quick prayer and met Mollie and the kids at the top of the stairs. She grabbed Bobby's hand and had just stepped forward, her foot poised to descend, when the door flung open and her father, a big bear of a man with an even bigger personality, filled the doorframe.
When Owen caught sight of her and the children, one hand flew up to cover his mouth while the other hand went to the wall as he tried to steady himself.
Sophia had never seen her father speechless, and she didn't know what to think. Was he happy to see her? She stood rooted in place, drinking in the sight of him. He didn't look that much different than he had the day she had left Green Valley. A little older, sure, but the years had been good to him. Bobby was right. There was a strong family resemblance between him and Ben.
She came out of her daze when she noticed Beth Anne, who was standing behind Owen motioning frantically to her. She followed her sister in law's gaze back to her father, and was shocked to see that Owen had nearly crumpled against the wall, his shoulders shaking in racking sobs.
Dropping Bobby's hand, she ran to her father, dropping to her knees in front of him, and throwing her arms around his broad frame, no longer caring if her embrace was reciprocated.
"Sophia, mi mija, " she heard him whisper brokenly.
She smiled at the long forgotten endearment. There was the slightest trace of Spanish ancestry in their bloodline on Owen's side, and though he spoke very little Spanish, he had always called her 'Sophia, mi mija,' drawing it out so that the words seemed to rhyme. Owen's repeated whispers were unintelligible and almost frantic, meant for her ears only.
She felt her eyes fill with tears as she held her father, breathing in his familiar scent of hay and peppermint. She sensed, rather than saw Mollie and Beth Anne exit the room with the children in tow. In this moment, she and Owen were the only people that mattered. There would be plenty of time for introductions and explanations later.
Chapter 8
Hiram was leaving the newspaper office in a hurry. He was always in a hurry these days. His summer vacation had been far from relaxing this year and he was almost looking forward to the start of the school year.
The last few days had been really bad for Lucy, pain wise, and since he'd taken Phoebe's car keys, any errands fell on him. The newspaper office was just the first on a list of many stops he needed to make this afternoon. He would be immensely relieved if the ad helped and they were able to find someone quickly. The sooner, the better as far as he was concerned.
Hiram was deep in thought, eyes on the crumpled envelope in his hand where Phoebe had scribbled the list of errands to run and groceries to pick up, and not on the sidewalk in front of him.
He ran straight into Bishop Miller. Literally ran into him. It was lucky that he had been walking slowly, as Bishop Miller was a slight man, especially when compared to himself. At the shock of the contact, Hiram finally looked up. "Oh pardon me, Bishop, I guess I wasn't watching where I was going."
The bishop smiled easily. "No worries, Hiram. I'm sure you have a lot on your mind these days, with school about to start, and everything at home. How's Lucy doing?"
Hiram hesitated, and then sighed. You really couldn't hide anything in Green Valley, especially not from Bishop Miller. "She's been better. She has her good days, and her bad days. Today's a bad day." He admitted with a frown.
Bishop Miller nodded with understanding. "I'll make sure she gets added to the prayer list for this Sunday's church announcement."
"Thank you, Bishop. I'd appreciate it. He looked down at his list, then back up at the bishop. "We'll see you Sunday then," he said, trying to get on his way.
"Sure thing." Bishop Miller pulled open the door to the newspaper office then paused. "Hiram, I'm about to turn in this week's announcements for the paper."
Hiram nodded, confused as the bishop trailed off, not really sure where the man was going with that tidbit of information. He had assumed that's what the bishop had been doing. Everyone knew Friday was the deadline for newspaper announcements, and since everyone in Green Valley was a member of the church, Bishop Miller had the responsibility of turning in the town's weekly goings-on to the newspaper each week. He kept diligent track of all the weddings, engagements, birth announcements, and obituaries and wrote them up each week.
"Well, I thought I would check and see if you had anything I needed to add in."
Hiram stared at him blankly. Neither of his wives were expecting, they were done having children, the bishop knew that. Nobody had died, obviously, and the bishop himself first approved all engagements. Hiram had no idea why the bishop would ask him that question, but the bishop was looking at him expectantly, obviously waiting for an answer, so Hiram humored him.
"No Bishop, can't say that I do. You have a nice day now," Hiram added, hoping to once again be on his way. He couldn't help but notice that the bishop looked oddly disappointed in his answer.
He tried to mask it, as he clapped Hiram heartily on the back and replied, "Hey that's okay, maybe next week."
That caused Hiram to do a double take, more confused now than ever. He was seriously beginning to question Bishop Miller's mental state. Was it possible the man was suffering from early onset dementia?
"Excuse me, Bishop?" Hiram questioned, really wishing he could just walk away from what was becoming an infuriating exchange.
"I expect we'll be seeing an engagement announcement from you and Sophia in the near future, now that she's returned to Green Valley." It was a statement, not a question and Bishop Miller looked like the cat that swallowed the canary at the prospect of such an announcement.
Hiram almost felt bad for the man.
Almost.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you Bishop, but that's not going to happen. Ever."
Now, it was Bishop Miller's turn to look confused. "Hiram, you and Sophia have a relationship ordained by God."
Hiram frowned. "That was a long time ago Bishop. That ship has sailed. She's moved on and so have I."
"But… Sophia's back, Hiram. She's returned to Green Valley," the Bishop argued, as if that statement was keystone to their argument.
"Yes, sir, I'm aware of that. But it doesn't mean anything. It doesn't mean we are going to end up together, and act like nothing ever happened. She left me at the altar a decade ago, and I don't know what happened between now and then, but, she has children by other men," Hiram said pointedly, hoping against hope that would resolve the matter and end the conversation.
It didn't. The bishop narrowed his eyes, and set his steely gaze on Hiram. "Children are a blessing from the Lord, Hiram, always."
Hiram managed to look repentant. "I realize that, Sir, but surely God does not mean for me to be with an impure woman." He groaned inwardly as soon as the words left h
is mouth. He sounded like an arrogant jerk, even to himself. He was becoming nearly desperate to get away, and saying whatever popped into his head. It wasn't like him at all. Sophia—even the thought of Sophia—clearly brought out the worst in him. He winced, at the effect his careless words had on Bishop Miller. The man's face had begun to redden and he looked more upset than Hiram had ever seen him. Hiram loosened his collar, uneasily.
"Hiram, I don't know where you're getting your information, or what kind of judgments you're making, but Sophia was married, and both of those children belong to her late husband, God rest his soul." The bishop pursed his lips and sighed heavily before continuing. "I've prayed about this for many years, Hiram, long and hard and I know with all my heart that God wants you and Sophia to be together. I don't know what happened back then, but I do know this. God doesn't make mistakes, Hiram, people do. I suggest you spend some time in prayer thinking about that. Good Day."
And with that, the bishop finally entered the newspaper office, slamming the door behind him, leaving a Hiram speechless on the sidewalk, reeling from the bishop's last words.
* * * * *
Owen refused to leave Sophia's side, even to go get her mothers, choosing instead to call Ben at the office and instruct him to pick them up on his way home. It was as if he was afraid that if he looked away, even for a moment, she might vanish for good. They had eventually moved from the floor to the couch, but that was all. Sophia was perfectly content to sit upon the couch, leaning against Owen's chest, with his arm wrapped around her, and Owen was perfectly content to have her there.
For the moment, he asked no questions, and she offered no explanations. Owen stared at her happily, with eyes full of tears occasionally whispering, "Sophia, mi mija," just as he had always done.
After a good twenty minutes of this, Mollie had emerged from upstairs, and come to stand in front of them. "I see you like your surprise," she said to Owen with a twinkle in her eye.
The Prodigal Bride Page 5