Chapter 1
“Brinley, wake up.” The raspy voice interrupted my dreams as fingers poked at my ribs. My sister wife Aspen stood above my bed, urging me to wake. My eyes were heavy and refused to cooperate, and the nudging grew more persistent. “You must wake up!”
“What is it?” I grumbled sleepily.
Aspen pulled me to a seated position, and pulled off the covers. “It’s happened. They’re here.”
I glanced at the clock. It was four a.m. . . . way too early for cryptic statements that needed translation.
“What are you talking about?” I yawned, wiping the sleep from my bleary eyes.
“Rebecca’s been reassigned.”
That word . . . reassigned . . . it woke me up. Completely. My stomach felt heavy, a brick of apprehension weighing it down.
“To Lehi? To us?” I asked, swallowing hard. An eighth wife, one with four children. Not only would I be the only childless wife of Lehi Cluff, but now I would no longer be the last one to enter the family. My lies would catch up to me. Rebecca’s reassignment would see to that.
“Yes. The prophet had a revelation.”
“And Elder Jameson?” I asked, my fingers trembling as I held them against my lips. I knew what had happened. Burt Jameson had lost one of his wives and four of his children. They would no longer call him Father. They would no longer give him hugs and kisses. Those tokens of affection would be transferred to Lehi, a man who didn’t even know their names. He was their new father and there was nothing they could do about it.
Aspen shrugged, her eyes cold and dismissive. “I guess he’ll learn, won’t he?”
Aspen was the sixth wife of my husband, Lehi Cluff. She was devout, a true follower of the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, as well as of the prophet and his teachings. Already the mother of three children, she was only one year older than me and had been married to Lehi since she turned sixteen. Since joining Lehi’s family, I’d suspected that Aspen was assigned to me—to watch out for me, to keep me in line, and to remind me of the virtues that were expected of me. She was my sister wife, yes, but she was also the closest thing I had to a “friend” in my new family.
We were different, so very different. Aspen believed what she was told; she didn’t question things the way I did. She didn’t lie awake at night, wondering if there was more to life outside the compound. Aspen was satisfied with her place in this world and never wanted to be a first wife, or to have a monogamous husband. She’d always wanted to be a young bride so that she could bear as many children as possible, as was expected of her.
Aspen was the perfect example of plural marriage.
I, however, was not. As far as anyone could see, I was an obedient, even-tempered, and loyal wife. I helped with the cooking, the cleaning, and the child-rearing. I’d never tried to secretly cut my hair or wear the color red. But I had my secrets. A voice inside told me I didn’t belong here, that there was another life waiting for me. And with each passing year, that voice became louder.
“Wake up and get dressed,” Aspen urged me. “Rebecca’s going to stay with you for the next few days until we can get her settled into her own area.” She crossed the room to my small closet, then pushed my dresses aside to make room for Rebecca’s things.
“And the children?”
“They’re sleeping in the common area with the other boys.”
“Are they okay?”
A disgusted huff left her mouth. Aspen stopped and turned to me with a look that radiated superiority. “Brinley, this is not the time. Right now you’re needed with Lehi and Rebecca. Now, get up!”
“Yes, Aspen,” I muttered.
I dressed in my standard garb: long underwear, long-sleeved cotton dress, and shoes. My hair was tousled from sleep and needed to be brushed, but there simply wasn’t time. Aspen stood at my doorway, staring at me impatiently. I pushed a few stray hairs back into the messy bun atop my head and followed her down the long hallway to the common area of our large home.
Rebecca, her skin ashen, sat on one of the several couches in the large room. My sister wife Leandra, the first wife of Lehi, patted her knee in an attempt to comfort her. Rebecca, whether by choice or affliction, ignored it as she kept her eyes downcast, her body visibly trembling.
Lehi’s graying hair was disheveled, exposing the bald skin of his expanding forehead. Dark circles sat beneath his eyes as he scratched the back of his neck.
I wasn’t the best at reading people, but I knew Lehi was overwhelmed. He wasn’t sure how to act in a reassignment situation. He was taking on another wife—an unplanned one—and four young children. Those children would now call him Father or Daddy, and would look to him for guidance and approval. His new wife would now share his bed, even though earlier this evening she went to sleep with the only husband she’d ever known.
Rebecca was about thirty years old and was the third wife of Burt Jameson. They had been married for twelve years and Rebecca seemed to adore him. All plural wives in our community were expected to be obedient, loyal, and loving to our husbands, regardless of how we felt behind closed doors. But Rebecca was different; she was one of the few truly in love with her husband. And for that, I mourned the reassignment. I mourned that she had lost her love.
Leandra, the small and demanding first wife, glanced at me as I entered the common room, then returned her attention to her charge. “Rebecca, you’ll be staying with Brinley for a few days, dear.”
Rebecca nodded at me, her hands quivering in her lap. “Thank you, Miss Brinley,” she whispered.
“It’s no trouble,” I replied. “Aspen has made room for your things in my closet, and the bed is big enough for the both of us.”
Except when Lehi was to join me tomorrow evening. But somehow I knew my place on the schedule would be moved. A fluttering in my stomach surprised me—I usually looked forward to my time with Lehi, but knowing Rebecca would be with me instead was a relief I hadn’t expected. It was a break from the ordinary. To be honest, I was excited at the possibility to build a friendship with my new sister wife.
Carefully, I sat next to Rebecca on the couch and took her hand in mine. “You will be a wonderful addition to our family.”
I said what was expected of me, choosing my words carefully. Much like I did anytime I was surrounded by my sister wives.
? ? ?
An hour later, Rebecca and I were alone in my bedroom. Her children had fallen asleep easily, not entirely grasping their situation. They didn’t know they were being reassigned, only that they were at our home for a sleepover. Rebecca was apparently delaying telling them the truth.
She probably didn’t want to tell them that our prophet acted according to what he felt was God’s will, and no one in our community could question him or what was “revealed” to him by our Lord. It would be difficult to tell them that they’d lost their father, that they would never return to their home, and that their lives had changed forever because the prophet deemed it so.
“I-I understand that this was a revelation, but . . .” Rebecca sat on the edge of my bed, her hand covering her mouth, the skin surrounding her eyes red and puffy. “I love him. I love my husband.”
“I know,” I whispered, rubbing her back softly with the palm of my hand, attempting to soothe her as best I could. “I could see that you did.”
She wiped her nose with a tissue. “He’s kind and loving, and . . . and I just can’t imagine not being with him.”
“I understand.”
“You do?”
“I think so.” I shrugged. I didn’t have children yet. And I could certainly imagine a life without Lehi . . . so did I? Did I really understand her? Perhaps not.
“I don’t know Elder Cluff. I don’t know him at all. And now . . . he’s to be my husband?”
Reluctantly, I nodded and said what I should say. “Lehi’s a good man.”
She gasped, looking startled. “Have I offended you? I hope I haven’t. I just—I don’t, I mean—”
“No, no. I promise.” I patted her on the shoulder. “I just wanted you to know that you’re safe here. That Lehi will take care of you and your children.”
She pursed her lips and stared at the carpet beneath our feet. “But I don’t love him.”
I knew what I was supposed to say. I knew I should tell her that she’d grow to love Lehi, that she’d have a warm and loving relationship with our husband, that she just needed to give it time. But I couldn’t.
I spoke the truth.
“Neither do I,” I whispered, shaking my head slowly back and forth.
Her lips parted and her chin began to quiver. She collapsed against me and sobbed into my shoulder. She grasped my sleeves as she held on for dear life, revealing her pain, distress, and despair.
A single tear slid down my cheek as I attempted to comfort Rebecca, even though I couldn’t quite grasp the idea of losing someone I loved. I’d never been in love. But instead of being comforted by this realization, it caused a knot to form in the pit of my stomach.
As I mourned her broken marriage, I found myself mourning the love that I would never have. Eventually her breathing evened out, and for one small minute, I was jealous of my soon-to-be sister wife. Jealous that she’d shared twelve years with a man she adored.
I’d never adored Lehi, and was pretty certain that I never would.