Desert Wives (9781615952267) by Betty Webb Page A

one thing in common though, our dresses. Both were long, poorly sewn, and unflattering.
    She raised her eyes from a long perusal of my garbage bag luggage, and in a barely audible whisper said, “Brother Saul, it is good to have you home.”
    â€œSister Ruby, I have wonderful news.”
    When Ruby looked at me, I thought I saw one brief flash of recognition when she saw the scar on my forehead. But she might merely have pegged me as another beaten spirit. “Yes, Brother Saul?”
    â€œI’ve brought you a new sister wife to help around the house. Her name is Lena.”
    â€œSister wife?” She lowered her eyes and studied the floorboards for a few seconds. Just when I thought she wasn’t going to say anything else, she looked up. This time her eyes didn’t focus on anyone or anything, just stared off into space. But her jaw clenched. “Yes, that is good news, Brother Saul.”
    I held out my hand but the scene with Sheriff Benson replayed itself. She wouldn’t shake it. Feeling foolish, I dropped my hand to my side, wondering if there was a chapter on etiquette in Prophet Solomon’s Gospel. If so, I needed to bone up. Maybe it said to kiss your new sister wife’s cheek and shout, “Glory, Hallelujah!”
    â€œIt’s nice meeting you, Sister Ruby,” I mumbled, trying for timidity.
    Somehow she managed to speak through that clenched jaw. “It’s nice meeting you, Sister Lena.” Then she turned around and stalked back down the hall. I heard the door squeak open, and a second later, a slam.
    Baffled, I looked at Saul for explanation.
    He smiled. “That didn’t go half as bad as I thought it would!”
    Had we been in the same room? “She’s jealous, Saul.”
    â€œYou’re imagining things. ‘Jealous sister wives will never see the jewel-bright halls of the Highest Heaven,’ Solomon writes in the third chapter of the Gospels. Ruby was raised on it, and like all good polygamist women, she believes it.”
    Like I said, men are pretty easy to fool.
    Formal introductions accomplished, he picked up my garbage bag luggage and led me down the hall to my room, next to Ruby’s. After we shut the door behind us, I whispered, “You know, she’s probably going to notice that you and I don’t, well, that we don’t…”
    He whispered back. “In most polygamist families, the wife visits the man in his room, then after the guy has his fun the woman can return to her room. As long as you keep up some kind of pretense about visiting me every now and then, she’ll never guess our guilty secret.” Raising his voice, he added, “I’ll leave you to put your things away, Sister Lena. When you’re through, knock on Sister Ruby’s door and ask her to show you where everything is in the kitchen. I’ll want a nice big breakfast tomorrow.”
    I stared at him. “I told you I don’t cook.”
    â€œIf you can boil water, you’re better than me. Or even Ruby.” He winked, then left, closing the door gently behind him.
    Bare as a monk’s cell, the room held only one narrow bed and a small dresser, with a bright wedding ring quilt providing the only color. Created by Saul’s dead wife? Or proof of Ruby’s handiwork before she had disintegrated into the gray-on-gray creature she’d become?
    Only with difficulty did I refrain from making a break for the front door. But remembering why I was here, I lifted my skirt, took out my .38, and began my usual reconnoiter.
    â€œRebecca, I hope some day you realize what I’ve gone through for you,” I whispered, as I scanned the empty closet for a boogeyman. I didn’t want her waking up in the middle of the night for the next fifty years, screaming from nightmares.
    I had nightmares enough for the both of us.

Chapter 8
    Someone banged on the door.
    â€œWife! Wife! Time to prepare breakfast!”
    I