Chapter 37
“What are you doing?” Jacob hissed.
He knelt beside me on the floor, his charming veneer at last wiped away for the day. He grabbed me by the arm and forced me up. I swayed, unable to find my footing as the dark and dusty room spun back into place around me.
“I fell asleep. I had a nightmare.”
He pushed me toward the bed, but I caught myself before falling onto the mattress.
“Impossible. You’ve been up here less than five minutes. Though I suppose you’ve been having trouble with the truth tonight, so it’s to be expected.”
Sweat trickled down my neck. I now knew the horrible past. Jacob wasn’t Sariah’s murderer as I’d been convinced.
But still my body screamed at me to flee from him, from his house, from this marriage.
Within hours of our wedding, he swore there was no piano, even though he knew it sat collecting dust right above us.
He withheld my letters, isolating me in this strange home with only him as my savior.
But when trouble arose, he ran without a second thought, leaving us behind to fend for ourselves.
Worst of all, he knew the truth of his second wife’s demise and did nothing but marry again, leveraging her death to entrap his first wife in their joint misery.
And now he stood over me, all remains of the facade he’d convinced me of washed away.
How dare he accuse me of dishonesty. He couldn’t paint me as the villain, not when I’d done nothing but break myself over and over to obey his commands.
I straightened up, praying for every piece of fortitude within me to come forth. His eyes raked me up and down, but I didn’t cower.
“Do you think I’m an idiot?” he said, too calm.
“No.”
“Then why did you think you could fool me?”
“I haven’t—”
He drew closer.
“I know who Brother Smith is. Did you really think I wouldn’t realize it was Elijah Crowther? That you’ve been fucking him while I was away?”
My stomach turned, but I steeled myself.
“I’ve done no such thing.” The truth would need to come out. I let the words fall. “But we’re leaving. Together. I’ll write for a divorce.”
It all happened too quickly. One moment, I was staring up at Jacob, and the next he barreled toward me digging his hands into my hair. I screamed as he pulled me up by the scalp.
“As I said to you before, no one is leaving,” he growled. “This is my family and my kingdom. You have no say in any of this.”
My feet struggled for purchase as he jerked me away, dragging me by the head to the doorway. I thought of Abby and Sariah’s struggle that I’d only just witnessed. Would I be the next thrown down the stairs? I screamed again as I fought him.
Jacob heaved me from the room but didn’t relinquish his hold at the top of the stairs. Instead, he dragged me down after him. As we moved in a blurred tangle, the walls shook again. Books fell. Dishes smashed to the ground. Even chairs wobbled out of place and onto their sides.
“Shut up!” he yelled into the empty abyss of the house. Even in death, Sariah wasn’t free of his commands.
With a hard thrust, Jacob shoved me into his study.
As I scrambled to standing, he shut the door with a thud.
I wasn’t certain if I wanted to be sick or to whimper for mercy.
My husband hadn’t thrown his second wife from the stairs, but he’d knowingly grated Abby for his own amusement and chained her to his side.
I wasn’t safe with him. I’d never been. I glanced around for the rifle he’d produced earlier.
“I will fetch Flora and the children soon enough. She’ll see the error of her ways.” Jacob took a step closer and I backed up, bumping against his desk. “We’ll all be together soon, back as my family.”
“And what about Sariah? Is she a part of your happy family?”
“In eternity, she will be.” He shrugged as if his own wife merited little care.
He bent over to light a lamp.
“You have nothing more to say about the dead wife you’ve been keeping as a secret?”
“I’m a man of great faith and I’ve done all things in righteousness. What is bound on earth is bound in heaven. Sariah will be my wife after death, as will you and all the others.”
Anger surged through me. I wanted to rage as I’d never had in my life. I wanted to scream and shout and rip and tear. This man held us all in his cage, for this life and the next.
“You planted the wedge between Abby and Sariah, and then used her death to bring Abby to heel without a second thought! How can you care so little for the women you’re supposed to love and protect?
You kept marrying without sharing the truth.
What if you’d pushed Abby again to madness and I fell victim?
Would my blood stain your conscious at all? ”
Jacob looked at me. No remorse, no sadness, nothing showed on his face.
“I buried Sariah’s body myself and I kept Abby from hanging. I protected her and our family from ruin. I’d say that makes me a rather benevolent husband, Hazel.”
I laughed, hollow and cold. “Does a benevolent husband also lie?”
“I’ve never lied to you, Hazel.”
“The piano!” I shouted. The bookshelves rattled with my words. “You knew all along it was there. And my letters!”
I reached over and ripped the desk drawer open with shaking hands. “You could have at least told me they wrote. You could have …” I trailed off as I rifled through the envelopes I’d left stacked inside the drawer earlier.
There was familiarity to the paper. I pulled one out and gasped.
Staring up at me was my own handwriting, the letter addressed to my mother. This was a letter I wrote to my mother months ago.
“Hazel, you’re being hysterical and must calm down. I’d hate for one of your devilish panics to overcome you,” Jacob said with little patience.
“My letters. These are all of my letters!” I shouted.
Jacob opened his mouth, but I shoved the pile of envelopes into his chest.
“You never posted a single one. You could have at least let them know I wrote!”
“You’re mine now. Not theirs. Can you blame me for wanting you all to myself?”
I tried to push him away, but he stood firm. He caught my hand before I could pull away, gripping my wrist tight.
“Prudence never complained about it. Didn’t Flora teach you to be a better wife than this?” he said.
My chest heaved trying to find my breath.
He’d done the same thing to Prudence. She probably never knew that her family had written her and they never heard from her.
How long had she written before she gave up on them as I did?
It suddenly made sense why she was so attached to Jacob despite her independent thoughts on women.
“You’re a monster,” I murmured.
His other hand shot out, grasping me by the chin. I didn’t dare take my eyes off him even as my body screamed in pain.
“This is the man I was made to be. In the world to come, I will reign as a god, and I intend to start now. Just like Joseph and Brigham. It is my right to do so, and for you to obey.”
“And when will it end, Jacob? When will you have enough women to satisfy your eternal lusts?”
“When I say I am fulfilled,” he said, his fingers grinding into my jaw.
“When God declares the work is finished. I serve only Him and this is what He wants for me. For us. Obey and your place in my kingdom will be great. Try to run and your place shall be one of damnation. I will not be denied you, Hazel. You’re mine and I will drag you from hell if I must, but I will keep you. ”
His words sounded like every sermon I’d heard since childhood.
Somewhere in my girlhood, I’d absorbed all these lies into me—that if I didn’t obey perfectly, I’d be damned.
That if I wasn’t flawless enough to be on a man’s arm, then I was nothing of merit.
That if I didn’t stay small enough to make men comfortable, then I was out of my place.
But did I truly need a man to be saved? To find happiness and peace?
Why could I not be something for myself, as big and broken as I needed to be?
Jacob’s touch softened, his hand on my chin suddenly a caress.
“My poor Hazel. You’ve been deceived by the Devil. I knew when I first saw your strange panics that Satan’s hold on you was strong. I’d hoped you would overcome it with my help, but I see it wasn’t so.”
Doubts crept into my mind. Like so many times before, I saw flashing in my mind a lifetime of being scolded, guilted, and shoved into compliance. The way I constantly berated and beat myself for the slightest imperfections. All the shame I carried from the judgments of others for my panics.
My husband’s touch was gentle, but his words were sharp as briars. He was almost convincing. Was I truly so weak, so wrong for simply being myself?
Suddenly, I didn’t believe that at all. I didn’t believe him. I didn’t need to hide my panics that weren’t a flaw. I didn’t need him to take me to heaven. His claims on my life and my soul meant nothing to me. He could search hell over, but he’d never find me.
I flicked my chin from his grip.
“You can’t have me, Jacob. I don’t choose you.”
“Because you choose Elijah?” he said in a mocking tone.
“Because I choose myself. I’m done being a pawn in any of your games. I don’t belong to you or to Elder Crowther or any man. I belong to myself.”
The air around us pulsed. It seemed to expand the room, placing distance between myself and the menacing husband watching me with an insatiable hunger in his eyes.
“You leave me no choice then.”
Slowly, he stalked around the desk, a vulture circling me.
“You will stay in this room until I bring back Flora. By then I expect the lack of food or water will humble you, for you truly need to be humbled, Hazel. You need to remember that I am your head.”
He ripped open a small case on the shelf and dug within. When he withdrew his hand again it held a gleaming knife. I froze.
“Don’t worry.” He slammed the case shut. “This isn’t for you. Yet. I imagine Crowther won’t be out all night in this darkness. I’ll be ready on the drive for his return.”
“Wait, no—” I reached for his arm and caught only wisps of his shirt as he tugged away. “Jacob, please.”
He shook his head. “You’re out of second chances and bargains, Hazel. I’ll see you in a few days, I suppose.”
Faster than I could catch him, he slipped through the door and slammed it shut. I pounded against the wood. “Jacob!” The lock clicked.
I shouted and beat the door with my fists to no avail.
Only silence called back. With tears streaking down my face, I slid down the door and buried my head in my knees.
I prayed to whatever deity would hear me that Jacob wouldn’t find Elijah.
I couldn’t have his blood on my hands. And I wouldn’t be trapped forever in this house with nothing but my guilt over my failures as company.
I let out a sob. I could see it all so plainly—so horribly.
If I remained trapped in Manwaring Manor forever, one day I’d have a daughter of my own and I’d condemn her to this same life.
I’d watch and wait and know that I couldn’t save her.
That one day this same cruel fate would be hers as well.
And so, the cycle would turn on and on, generations of women pressed too hard beneath the boots of men, who heard none of our cries.
The door shook behind my back.
I peered up as a light flooded the room.
Sariah crouched in front of me, her face long.
“I can’t let this happen.”
Her light flickered.
“I have to stop him,” I said.
Her eyes watched mine with what looked like profound care.
My tears stopped. In silence, my strange ghostly companion sat with me, not demanding or pushing, but simply there.
Though we couldn’t touch, I sensed her arms around me, encompassing me.
She did what few others were willing to do in my life—she mourned with me.
Heat radiated up my arms and lodged in my chest. I found myself overwhelmed with warmth.
It was like earlier as I’d searched through the canyon with Elijah.
The heat once more generated from within me, spurred on by Sariah’s acceptance.
It stirred my convictions, of the strength hidden within me that I needed only to draw out.
I sucked in a long breath, then slowly let it out.
I meant what I said to Jacob. I didn’t choose him. I wouldn’t stay here.
Hope. Tenacity. Need. It all rose and bubbled out of me. They were things that I could hold and shelter that weren’t shame or worry. I gazed up at Sariah once more, her brightness lighting my face.
“Can you help me one more time?” I asked her.
Without hesitation, she slipped through the door. I didn’t have to wait long. The doorknob quivered and shook. I heard Abby swear to herself on the other side and I almost laughed at the absurdity of it all.
At last, she picked the lock and the door swung open.
Abby sighed, pocketing a long hatpin. “My God, it took forever for him to leave.”