Wife Number Seven

by Melissa Brown

  “Try,” he repeated with a nod before letting go and closing the door behind him.

  Chapter 9

  Rebecca was seething.

  She’d started to feel guilty about avoiding Brinley. After all, Brinley was still a young girl. Rebecca was eight years older than her and had children; she was a role model for her sister wife and should act like it.

  But it had been too painful. She’d blamed Brinley for bringing her that letter, as if Brinley wanted the conflict in her heart to rise to this unbearable state. As if Brinley and Burt were somehow plotting to make this life harder for her.

  Lehi Cluff disgusted her. The first time they’d consummated their marriage, she excused herself to the bathroom where she purged into the toilet from sheer repugnance. His breath reeked of day-old food, and she knew he wasn’t flossing.

  Burt had always flossed. Every single day. She saw to that. Even when he stayed with one of the other sister wives, she had changed his habits. His teeth were impeccable for a man in the compound, and for that she was proud.

  Lehi’s teeth were pathetic. He didn’t floss, and it was clear to Rebecca that he’d never used mouthwash either. His overall comportment in the bedroom was lazy and inconsiderate. It was clear to Rebecca that her comfort, her pleasure during their time together, was not anything Lehi worried about or cared for.

  They were together to procreate. That was all.

  And technically, that was how it was supposed to be. Perhaps Heavenly Father had removed her from Burt’s arms for a reason. Perhaps she was where she needed to be.

  That was what Leandra said, anyway, that the prophet was always right and that Rebecca had been given a second chance with the Lord. A second chance to truly live the principle of plural marriage and to sacrifice her own worldly pleasures, as was expected of her. In the sewing room, Leandra had her almost convinced . . . convinced that the reassignment was a gift, a fresh start, a second chance to join Heavenly Father in heaven.

  Because of that, Lehi was her salvation.

  And Burt was her demise.

  But her heart . . . her heart hadn’t caught up to her head. Her heart was angry at Burt for reaching out, for trying to convince her to turn her back against the Lord.

  How could he do that?

  Brinley had been kind to Rebecca when she first joined the Cluff household. She’d stroked Rebecca’s hair when she cried, she’d listened to Rebecca’s secrets and allowed her to vent her emotions. She was there for Rebecca in a way that no other wife had been, but perhaps there was a reason for that.

  Perhaps Brinley was just as damned as Burt. Leandra seemed to think so.

  “Something isn’t right with that one,” Leandra had said as she and Rebecca sewed curtains for the boys’ new room.

  “Why do you say that?” Rebecca had asked, still clutching that soft spot in her heart for Brinley.

  “I can’t put my finger on it. But trouble seems to follow her. And she’s drawn to the outside world, like a moth to a flame.”

  Rebecca’s stomach had churned. If Leandra only knew about their interaction with Porter Hammond or the letter Burt had written, she’d be horrified, absolutely horrified. And Rebecca needed this friendship with Leandra. She was desperate for a new start and to cleanse Burt, and the past twelve years as his wife, from her mind.

  “Just steer clear of her,” Leandra had insisted. “She’s a bad seed. I never wanted her in this family, but who am I to question the prophet?”

  “I see,” Rebecca had murmured, shocked at this revelation. Brinley was sweet, immature, and kind. But a bad seed? That label had never occurred to her in the months she’d been a part of this family.

  “So, I pray for her every day that she’ll mature and focus on what matters,” Leandra had said, ending the conversation. But Rebecca couldn’t forget those words.

  She’s a bad seed.

  That day, Rebecca had made a decision to distance herself from Brinley, at least until Brinley focused on what was important: her husband, their family, and her devotion to the Lord.

  • • •

  But that morning, when Brinley had stood in her doorway, her eyes forlorn, hoping Rebecca would join her on a walk to the pharmacy, Rebecca’s heart was tugged. She dismissed Brinley, but had second thoughts soon after Brinley left the house.

  “Leandra, I’m going to supervise Brinley on her walk to the store. Just to keep her . . . focused.” She tilted her head to Leandra, who raised her eyebrows with comprehension and nodded with a grateful smile.

  Quickly, Rebecca grabbed her purse from her bedroom, then hurried out the door. Rebecca was never a runner, and she always felt silly running in her dress, so she walked as quickly as she could to catch up to Brinley.

  When she reached the guard at the compound, she avoided his glance, not wanting to be connected to anything having to do with that boy, Porter. Luckily, Samuel wasn’t looking her way; he was busy talking to another man, laughing at a joke.

  When Rebecca rounded the corner, she gasped.

  Brinley and Burt.

  Talking.

  On the street corner.

  Burt’s back was to her, but she could see Brinley’s face . . . and she was crying.

  Rebecca hid behind the wall of the compound, peeking around it, shocked at what she was observing. The anger she had pushed down for weeks built up once again, so much so that she struggled to compose herself, struggled just to breathe.

  How dare Brinley speak to that man! How dare she continue to lure Rebecca away from the Cluff family and into a life of damnation! How dare she not respect Rebecca’s wishes to keep sweet and accept the assignment of the prophet! Had they planned this? Was this why Brinley had asked her to come into town? To trick her into being in Burt’s presence?

  And then Rebecca had another thought. Perhaps Brinley wasn’t crying for her. Perhaps she was crying for herself. Perhaps she and Burt had forged a friendship, a relationship, a bond. A completely inappropriate and unholy bond. Perhaps Brinley was nothing but a bad seed as Leandra had said, seeking comfort from the one man in the compound she should be avoiding.

  Those thoughts burned through Rebecca’s veins like venom.

  Of course, she knew she had to let go of Burt and his love for her. She had to move on and embrace the love of Lehi and the plan the Lord had made for her on this earth.

  But how could Brinley continue to speak to Burt? How could she meet up with him in broad daylight, against the wishes of the prophet and of the good Lord himself?

  How.

  Dare.

  She.

  So Rebecca seethed; her heart thumped wildly in her chest and her lungs expanded with every breath. Leandra was right. That Brinley was, indeed, the worst seed imaginable.

  She took a breath from deep within her chest, turned, and walked with new purpose back to the Cluff household.

  Chapter 10

  I’d tried to see Porter the very next day, but Leandra had kept me busy with chores and child care. And then at dinnertime, I was reminded that it was my night with Lehi.

  Thoughts of Porter had reigned the entire day. Somehow I knew those thoughts had no plans to retreat from my brain and I’d be unable to escape him while laying with my husband.

  And I was right.

  Lehi arrived at my bedroom shortly after dinner.

  “Is now a good time?” Lehi asked after knocking on my door and peeking his head in.

  “Yes.” I gestured for him to enter the room. When he closed the door, he turned to me and frowned, so I asked, “Is everything all right?”

  Lehi cleared his throat. “I’d expected you to be ready. That’s all.”

  “Oh.” I was confused. I’d worn my standard nightgown and my hair was pulled into its French braid.

  Lehi rubbed his finger across his lips and it dawned on me. I’d forgotten to paint my face.

  “Oh,” I said. “I could—if you’ll just give me a few minutes, I can—”

  I’d been so wrapped up in t
houghts of Porter that I’d forgotten to prepare for Lehi and his desires. As indifferent as I was to sex with my husband, I had no intention of raising any suspicions in his mind. He couldn’t, and wouldn’t, know about Porter as long as I played my expected part.

  “No.” He shook his head, arms crossed in front of his chest, pursing his lips with irritation. “I suppose this is fine.”

  He stood next to the bed, waiting for me to join him, asserting his control, reminding me that he’d allowed me to skip painting my face. It was not my decision.

  “I’m sorry, Lehi. Honestly, I was just . . . I forgot.”

  “It’s all right. It just makes me wonder if you don’t look forward to our time together the way I do.” His voice was calm, almost soothing. The wrinkles next to his eyes stretched as he spoke.

  I was again confused by his words. Lehi looked forward to our time together? I was number seven of eight, and even though I was obedient in the bedroom, I was pretty certain that after three years of laying with my husband, I was still rather clueless when it came to intercourse.

  “What is it?” he asked, running his fingers down my braid as he peered into my eyes.

  “You look forward to . . . to me?”

  “Of course, my beautiful girl.”

  I didn’t like being called “girl.” Not by Leandra and certainly not by Lehi. But I swallowed my irritation, forcing myself to replace the cringe that was begging to be released with an obedient smile.

  Keep sweet. Keep sweet. Keep sweet.

  “Tell me,” he continued, moving his hand to the back of my neck. The rough calluses from his hand scraped my skin, and I forced myself not to pull away. “Do you think about me when I’m not here?”

  Why all the questions?

  Does he know something?

  Did Rebecca tell him about the afternoon in Porter’s apartment?

  “Uh, yes,” I said, my cheeks growing hot. “Of course, yes.”

  “Good. Lay down.”

  Following the instructions I’d been given, I pulled back the quilt of my bed before unbuttoning my nightgown, letting it fall to the floor in a puddle at my feet. Three years of intercourse with Lehi. Three years of letting him touch me and enter me and own me. Throughout all those years not once had I ever felt naked.

  Until now.

  Lehi waited for me to lie down on the bed before removing his clothing. He stared down at my bare breasts as he stripped himself of his shirt and pants.

  I don’t want this. I don’t want this.

  Just as every time before this, our intercourse followed the same pattern. He pushed into me and I struggled to relax my muscles, allowing him in. The whiskers of his beard scratched the surface of my skin like the needles of a porcupine, and I closed my eyes at the uncomfortable sensation. As he continued, my mind wandered and I pretended. Oh, did I pretend.

  Instead of Lehi’s rigid body, the heat of Porter was now above me, entering me again and again. The hot breath on my arm was Porter’s, evidence of his desire for me. I imagined his blue eyes focused on mine as he ran his fingers through my hair, igniting something inside me I never thought possible.

  The pulsing I’d awoken to several times in the past month returned, this time while laying with my husband. Lost in thoughts of Porter, I drove my hips forward, matching his momentum and his desire for me. Again and again, I thrust the lower half of my body, determined to show Porter exactly how he made me feel.

  “That’s it, that’s my girl,” a gruff voice said against my shoulder and I gasped. Lehi had pulled me from my fantasy and dropped me unhappily into reality. My eyes shot open and I stared up at the ceiling, horrified at the feel of his skin against mine, like sandpaper against the soft, delicate curves of a porcelain cup.

  When Lehi groaned and collapsed on my chest, a tear slid from my eye. A tear of guilt.

  I’d just cheated on my husband, which made me the lowest of the low. Even though he’d been the one to lay with me, I’d forgotten all about him and had given myself to another man in my mind.

  When the tear rolled down my cheek and dropped to my bare shoulder, I knew. It was done.

  I was damned.

  Lehi pulled his boxer shorts on and turned to me. “I’ve never seen you like that. I could tell how turned on you were, the way you moved. It was sexy.”

  “Oh,” I muttered, pulling myself to a seated position in the bed, pulling the covers to my breasts, noting the sensation against my taut nipple.

  “You’re coming into your own. That’s a good thing.”

  “Thank you.” I nodded.

  “I hope you’ll be like that from now on. It was enjoyable for me, that’s for certain.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  I gripped the sheet, realizing with dread that I’d changed everything between my husband and myself. I’d changed my role and altered his expectations. If he’d only known why I moved that way, why my hips thrust against his, and why my private parts throbbed with anticipation and lust.

  I was so ashamed, utterly and completely ashamed. How could I have done this? How could I have let myself spin so out of control and deceive my husband?

  And Heavenly Father. I had sinned against Heavenly Father in an unforgivable manner.

  As desperately as I wanted to be forgiven, I wasn’t sure that was even possible. In fact, I was pretty certain my fate had been sealed.

  I was damned.

  And it scared me to death.

  Chapter 11

  Repentance is difficult when you resent it.

  Two weeks ago, I’d cheated on my husband in my heart, and every day since then I’d been doing my best to repent. When I thought of Porter, I pinched the skin just above my wrist to snap myself out of it. When Leandra asked me to go into town today, I lied and told her that I was needed at my mother’s house. My father was out of town and mother was suffering from a bad case of the flu. That was the truth. But Mother hadn’t asked me to come by. I told myself that it was a lie with a purpose—it kept me from going into town. It kept me from allowing temptation to take over my body and lead me straight to the apartment above the coffeehouse.

  But I resented it.

  I wanted to walk to Porter’s apartment. I wanted to be pushed up against his wall. I wanted the touch of his thumb against my wrist rather than the sharp pinch of my own fingernails.

  “What are you doing?” Aspen asked, gesturing to my wrist, angry and blotchy from my own efforts. Quickly, I dropped my hands to my side and looked straight ahead.

  “Nothing. I think I have a rash.”

  “Mm-hmm.” The skepticism in Aspen’s voice was apparent, but I ignored it. Aspen was walking to my mother’s house with me. She’d offered to join me to get out of the house since she’d been left in charge of all the children the day before.

  “It’s a gorgeous day.”

  Aspen was overly chipper on that day. Not that she was a particularly somber person; she wasn’t. But she was, in many ways, the yin to my yang when it came to personality. Devout plural wife and follower of Heavenly Father, she was proud of her role in the Cluff family. She was proud of her three children and hoped they’d marry in their teens, just like she had. She wanted their place in the celestial kingdom to be secured, just like her own.

  She was sharp and opinionated, but she knew exactly when and where she could safely express those opinions without jeopardizing her relationship with Lehi, Leandra, or the prophet.

  Aspen was also the most perceptive of the sister wives. I used to think she had some sort of mind-reading abilities, and it took me some time to feel comfortable with her for just that reason. When you were having doubts about your faith, your life, and your husband, the last thing you wanted was for someone to be listening in on your private thoughts.

  “You’re quiet today.” She nudged me gently with her elbow. “Even more than usual.”

  I shook my head and shrugged, summoning all the energy I could to act natural. But since meeting Porter, acting natural had become
increasingly difficult.

  We passed by the open field where several children were playing some form of tag. They laughed as they ran, and I wondered how long it had been since I, myself, had laughed.

  So long ago, I couldn’t remember.

  “They’re having fun,” Aspen said, watching the children.

  “I miss fun.”

  “Kids are fun. You know you can play with mine whenever you like,” she teased, and her elbow nudged mine again.

  “I know.” I stared at the ground as we walked.

  “Is that why you’re upset? I know you’ve been trying for a long time.” Her voice softened.

  I could feel Aspen studying my face, and I knew what I had to do. I had to lie.

  “Yeah. Three years is a long time, right?”

  She shrugged. “Everyone’s different. Maybe it’s the timing. You only see Lehi a few times a month.”

  “That hasn’t stopped you from getting pregnant.”

  “True.” Her brow knitted and she opened her mouth to speak, but said nothing.

  We walked in silence. Guilt was the only emotion I could feel.

  Yes, Aspen was not always the easiest to get along with, but she’d always been there for me when I truly needed her. And I was leading her to believe such lies.

  I hardly recognized myself anymore.

  • • •

  When we entered my mother’s home, I was disturbed by the eerie quiet of the house. Where were all the children? My brothers and sisters?

  “Mother?” I called out.

  She responded with a fit of coughing. Aspen narrowed her eyes and we jogged upstairs to the bedroom. My mother was on her knees, leaning on the mattress of her unmade bed.

  “Mother.” I knelt down next to her and placed my hand on the small of her back.

  “I-I’m fine.” She coughed again. “It’s just the flu. You should go, I don’t want you to get sick.”

  “Where is everyone?”

  “I sent the kids next door with your Mother Peg.”