Taken Bride by Alta Hensley

6

Ember

I can hear Papa Rich and Scarecrow talking outside the door as they smoke their pipe and drink from a tin cup full of cheap whiskey—which they of course didn’t offer to any of the wives. They also ate most of the supper that we had prepared, though I didn’t mind one bit. My stomach is still nothing but a ball of nerves, and I’m not sure I could have held down much more than the couple of bites I did have dished up on my plate.

“We need to leave at first light tomorrow,” Papa Rich says. “I know we just got here, but I don’t like that the pilot knows our general location. He could tell the police where we’re at.”

“No, he’ll stay quiet. He’ll be in a shitload of trouble if he admits to helping wanted fugitives fly across state lines,” Scarecrow replies.

“And Louisa Davenport? What if she caves under questioning from her son? I can see that happening.”

“That rich bitch is going to keep her mouth shut too. Do you think she wants it known she helped us escape? Not only escape but gave us funds that will get us through the winter,” Scarecrow prompts.

“Still… I’m not comfortable with the fact. And though we may have stayed away from the authorities up until now, they are going to beef up looking for us even more now that we have Ember. Nevada isn’t safe for us anywhere. They will comb every inch of these mountains and deserts, and you know it.”

“It’s remote here.”

“Not remote enough for my liking.”

There’s a long pause, but then Scarecrow finally says, “So, you still thinking Wyoming?”

“Yes,” Papa Rich says. “Montana is an option, but a Ranger buddy of mine once told me of a very old and desolate town in the mountains. It will be in poor condition, but nothing we can’t handle.”

“And you’re positive we can find it? I’m just not liking the idea of having my wives travel through a huge state to hunt for a town we may or may not be able to find.”

“Which is why I’d like to suggest an idea I’ve been stewing on,” Papa Rich says as I hear him inhale deeply from the pipe he’s smoking. “I say you and I leave for now. It’s going to be winter soon, and from the looks of the sky, a storm is brewing. We brought back plenty of provisions for the women to live off of while we’re gone. The snow the storm will bring will keep them… securely in place until we return. We go and scout the area, find our new home, then come back and get your wives to start a new settlement.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about leaving the women alone up here. The winters are brutal.”

“I get that,” Papa Rich says. “But I know Ember knows how to survive just fine. I taught her well. I’m also sure your wives know how to make do. And I think you and I have a better chance buying that truck we saw and heading out on our own. Ember being with us could draw more attention.”

“The last time you left Ember unattended, she burned down an entire town. You really think we can trust her?”

“She’s learned from her mistakes, or she wouldn’t have left with us. We didn’t have to tie her up and drag her back here. Plus, you have your two wives to look after her. You know damn well those women wouldn’t dare anger you by doing something as foolish as trying to leave. Where would they go? What would they do?”

“You have valid points,” Scarecrow says slowly. There’s a long moment of silence, and then he adds, “We better get moving at first light. I don’t want to hike down the mountain in the snow and rain.”

“I don’t think Husband will appreciate you spying on his conversation,” a voice from behind me says, startling me as I spin to face my accuser.

“I—”

Wife Number One motions for me to follow her, fear in her eyes as she glances at the door, expecting it to open any second. “I just don’t want you to catch the wrath of Husband.”

I follow her to where Wife Number Two is working on masoning the fire pit with the river rock and the bucket of clay.

“Can I help?” I ask, grateful that Wife Number One is only trying to help rather than get me into trouble by telling Scarecrow and Papa Rich that I practically had my ear to the door.

“Snow is coming soon,” Wife Number Two says, not looking at me as she continues to build. “If we don’t get this hole patched up with a chimney, we’re going to freeze.” She points to the rocks. If you hand me one at a time, I’ll apply the clay. I can move faster that way.”

I rush to her side, grateful to have something to do and also for a way to help prove my worth. I’m sure they are wondering who I am and why I’m here.

“I’m Ember,” I begin as I hand a rock to her. “Richard is my… father.”

“We know who you are,” Wife Number One says from behind me. “Scarecrow told us all about you and what you did… to Hallelujah Junction.”

I freeze, scared to look over my shoulder at the woman in fear of the judgement I’d see in her eyes. I wonder what they must think, having an arsonist under their roof.

“My name is Holly,” Wife Number One says. “And this is Violet.”

“We’re sisters,” Violet adds. “My father promised our hand in marriage to Scarecrow not long ago, which is how we came here.”

What kind of father would do such a vile and cruel thing? One look at Scarecrow says it all—he’s not husband material. He’s just… disgusting.

Although… isn’t that exactly what my own father is doing? Marrying me off to a sick creature?

“I’m Wife Number One,” Holly says. “I’m the oldest, and my sister is Wife Number Two.”

She makes the statement like it’s completely ordinary and I wouldn’t find this information shocking in the least.

“It looks like you’re going to be Wife Number Three,” Violet says. She stops applying the clay to the rock and looks up at Holly. “What do you think her purpose will be?”

“Purpose?” I ask.

Violet looks at me and smiles, but then her face grows grim just as quickly. “Holly’s purpose is to provide Scarecrow with pleasure. She’s the one in charge of doing her wifely duty in the… bedroom.” Violet returns to her clay and reaches for the rock that’s in my hand. “My duty is to pay for my sister’s as well as my indiscretions. I am the extra, the standby.”

My thoughts go back to the whipping she took for not having supper ready.

She shrugs. “I think Holly has it far worse.”

I then picture Holly being intimate—no doubt against her will—with Scarecrow. The bile rising in the back of my throat has me 100 percent agreeing with Violet. Holly has it far worse. I’d take a beating every day with a belt over having to have sex with Scarecrow.

“I don’t know what her purpose will be,” Holly says. “But we welcome you as a fellow sisterwife.”

“Thank you,” I say, even though I don’t feel very thankful. I don’t want to marry Scarecrow. I don’t want to have a purpose.

“Is Richard your only family?” Violet asks.

I pause as I don’t know what to say. Christopher… he was my family, but I suppose I need to accept that it all changed when I hopped on the plane and left New York.

“Yes,” I answer, which makes me feel like I’m somehow betraying Christopher.

“We only had our pa too,” Violet says. “Our ma died when we were real young. It was just the three of us living off the grid. Pa didn’t believe in society.”

“I understand.” Which I do, considering Papa Rich is the exact same way.

“He met Scarecrow years ago,” Violet adds. “They used to trade.”

“Until our pa traded us,” Holly cuts in, the venom in her voice clear. “And now you get the pleasure of being Scarecrow’s wife as well. Congratulations.”

Before I can get myself worked up with the thought, Scarecrow and Papa Rich enter the chapel.

“All right, women. We have come to a decision,” Scarecrow announces as the loud pounding of his crutches on the wooden floor seems to amplify his voice. “I’m going to marry Ember right here and right now. We don’t have any time to lose, since we’re leaving at first light tomorrow to find us a new homestead.” He glares at me. “Ember here has made our current situation more precarious, and therefore, we don’t feel like staying here is wise. Plus, I believe God has spoken to me and told me that our journey to Wyoming is a good one.”

Holly and Violet both nod obediently. They don’t question, they don’t argue, and they don’t show any emotion other than their complete submission.

I consider speaking up, but my mouth remains closed.

“Come on now,” Scarecrow says as he walks toward a wooden cross on the wall. “This is as good a spot as any.”

I steal a final glance at Papa Rich, silently begging him to put a stop to this. But instead, he follows Scarecrow to the cross, which tells me all I need to know.

My wedding day is today. Right now. No escape.