got one, Nellie,” Ben answered. “What you need cut?”
“Wood for Esther’s new house on my land. As soon as Jed repays her dowry.”
Jed’s eyes went wide. Esther gasped.
“See, Jed,” I said, speaking loudly again. “God’s Cloud of Glory has a church constitution, one that could be used by men to support polygamy in spite of scripture. It was effectively buried about a hundred years ago, because it also gave the churchwomen specific rights and protections. It hasn’t been studied much in the generations since, but I’ve read it. And that constitution has wording suggesting that a man can’t divorce a wife married before the church and in the sight of God without scriptural reasons. Unless she wants to go. Which Esther doesn’t. Without cause, and without her consent, if you make her leave, you have to repay her dowry.” Technically the money went back to the girl’s father, but I didn’t bring that up. I had a really good feeling that Jed had never read the constitution. At the moment, he looked like a fish on the line, all googly-eyed, his mouth opening and closing on things he wanted to say but was thinking better of fast.
“Esther,” I said. “If you get your dowry back will you allow the divorce, and leave the church?”
“I want the money, all my furniture, all the dishes, the cookstove, and my chickens. And the henhouse.”
“That ain’t right. I won’t h-h-have nothin’,” Jed stuttered.
“You’un came into this marriage with nothing and you bought what you have with the dowry. Esther’s dowry,” Sam said. “Nellie’s right. The money she brought in goes with the unfairly divorced wife. You’ll have to move in with the bachelors or back in with your’un daddy.” Sam sounded mighty happy about that.
“But . . . but . . .” Jed went silent, looking like he’d been mule-kicked.
“You haven’t been married long enough to provide sweat equity equivalent to the dowry,” I said.
“You can keep your truck and guns and personal things,” Esther said through the screen. “That should equal the sweat equity. And the dogs, you can keep them mangy things too.”
“We’ll talk to my daddy,” Ben said, talking about Brother Aden. “I’ll go with you. The church will reimburse you for the house from the church coffers and return the money to Esther.”
“You got an hour to make that happen,” I said to Jed. Actually, he had four weeks, according to the church constitution, but again, Jed didn’t know that.
Sam’s expression told me he knew, but I just gave him my most innocent little-sister look. Sam exhaled hard. Ben handed Jed’s shotgun to Sam and took the newly divorced man by the arm as he led him away, leaving Sam to back me up.
It all felt familiar and yet alien, a part of me and yet removed from me. Odd to be part of a family and have things happen around me, without my input, after so many years of being alone. Odd to step back into it all and know what to say and how to say it and to . . . and to not fall apart or have to draw my weapon. Odd to have a brother at my back, supporting me. I sent him a look full of love and thanks. He returned one filled with wry disbelief more than affection, but I’d take that too. And I was also proud, so proud, of Esther for taking a stand. “You can put that rifle away, Esther,” I said.
“Nope. Not till them menfolk disperse.”
“You men heard her,” I said. “Go on about your business.”
Shooting me looks filled with murderous hate, which was infinitely better than shooting me with their weapons, the men shuffled away. When they were gone, I said, “Esther, I’ll sit a while on your porch and keep an eye on things. But I missed breakfast. You got anything I could eat?”
“I’ll scramble you’un up some eggs. Make you’un some flapjacks. I got some Vaughn butter and church honey. And some coffee that ain’t been on the hob too long.”
“I’d be much appreciative,” I said.
“I’d love me some coffee, sister mine,” Sam said.
“Comin’ up,” Esther said. I heard the pregger-shuffle as she moved toward the kitchen. She was getting big fast.
“Who’s watching the back?” I asked quietly, because I knew he’d have someone covering the house there too.
“Amos and Rufus,” he said, referring to our older half brothers. “Heavily armed and well hidden.” My brother rested his backside on the edge of the porch, his