Lena Jones 02 - Desert Wives

so?”
    I filled him in on the Circle of Elder’s decision not to sanctify the marriage between Saul and myself, and then I added my own spin, mentally apologizing to Saul as I did so.
    “Saul, well, he’s an older man, and, well…”
    Davis nodded. “I understand. It’s a more common problem than women realize. But when it happens, the poor things believe it’s all their fault.”
    Had the man been reading
Cosmopolitan?
Or did he speak from experience? My surprise must have shown on my face.
    “Sister Lena, several women have discussed their marital relationships with me. You may not know this, but when I assumed the role of prophet, I married two widows, women who had been the wives of elderly men. They had both endured situations such as yours.”
    His smile was gentle, his blue eyes calming. Encouraged, I plunged ahead. “Then you understand it’s so very, very wrong for the Circle to punish me.” I threw out my hands, trying to look pathetic. “Brother Davis, I want to be obedient to the rule of Purity, but I’ll admit that unlike the women who were raised here, I’ve been out in the world and sometimes those rules are hard for me. I’ve done wicked, sinful things, and I really messed up my life.” Mimicking shame, I ducked my head.
    When I peeped up again, the expression on Davis’s Greek-god face told me I’d made an impact, so I continued my tale of woe. “If I have to leave Purity, God knows what’s going to happen to me! I want to stay, I really do! I want to lead a good life, a Godly life. But I know that the only way I can stay here is to be married. You only have, what, six wives? I’d be a good wife to you.”
    A faint smile played about his well-sculpted lips. It was no trouble imagining them pressed to mine. But only if that’s what it took to save Rebecca, of course.
    “Sister Lena, I hear you’re not a very good cook.”
    “No, Brother Davis, I’m not. But I can do other things.” I allowed a sultry note to enter my voice and leaned forward, making my breasts strain against the cheap fabric of my dress.
    Davis wasn’t blind. A fine sheen of perspiration appeared on his brow. He crossed his legs and cleared his throat. “Other things?”
    My performance would have done a hooker proud. “Believe me, Brother Davis, if you take me for your wife, you won’t be disappointed. And if you want me to learn how to cook, I’ll learn how to cook. I almost know how to make biscuits.”
    He threw back his glorious head and laughed. “That’s not what I hear!”
    I laughed back.
    He wiped his brow and shifted in his seat. As if seeking to remind himself that my body wasn’t perfect, his eyes flickered to the scar on my face. “Women can do other jobs around here, Sister Lena. You went to college, didn’t you?”
    I blinked in surprise. Was it that obvious? Yes, I had graduated with honors from Arizona State University, but there was no way I’d admit to that, so I hurriedly disavowed my alma mater.
    “Well, I took some courses at a community college. History, mainly, and English. Some economics. I wasn’t the world’s greatest student, though.” Actually, my grade point average had been 3.8, not bad for a kid who’d lived like a gypsy in more than a dozen foster homes.
    “You could teach at the school.”
    “Without a degree?”
    He leaned toward me, his knees touching mine. “Sister Lena, none of our teachers have even graduated from high school, and it’s been a growing source of concern to me. Knowing that one day I’d assume his own role as prophet, my dear father sent me to Utah State University to study economics, but the experience transformed me in ways he didn’t foresee. I came back a changed man. Now I’m convinced that so many of Purity’s problems are traceable to lack of education. Yes, I know my father believed God would teach us everything we needed to know. But I think God needs a helping hand every now and then, don’t you? After all, that’s why God gave us brains—to use.
    “Now here you are, an obviously educated woman, a woman seeking a higher calling in life, a woman so desperate to learn God’s teachings that she is willing to marry a man she hardly knows, a man she does not love.”
    He leaned even closer to me and as he took my hand, I caught a heady combination of soap and sweat emanating from his pores. “Don’t look so surprised, Sister Lena. I know you’re not in love with me, but that is perfectly acceptable. After all, few