Free Righteous02 - Mighty and Strong by Michael Wallace

watched her out of the corner of one eye, wishing he knew what she was thinking. Inside, he prepared all the arguments. About protecting his sister, Eliza, about the missing young woman. Sister Miriam—make that Agent Kite—had friends and family, too. They loved her, worried about her.
    As they crawled into bed, Fernie asked, “Are you leaving in the morning?”
    “I was going to ask your permission, first.”
    “You have it.”
    “Don’t you want to discuss it, hear the reasons I want to go?”
    “I already know the reasons,” Fernie said. “You’re going because you’re a good person and you want to help.”
    Jacob wished he were as confident of his own motives. He’d love to tell himself it was about helping others. But Agent Krantz had been right; Jacob wanted to match himself against Brother Timothy and his men. He wanted to meet this self-proclaimed prophet for himself.
    “It’s dangerous,” he said, “and I have to leave you and the kids behind. That’s going to be hard. Really hard.”
    “Don’t you think I know that? You don’t think this is easy for me, do you?”
    “No, but—”
    “Then why are you trying to talk me out of it?” she asked. Normally, she would have her arm around him by now, as they chatted before drifting off to sleep. She was on the far edge of the bed. “Jacob, I know what you have to do. And yes, I’m scared. I hope you are, too, at least a little bit. But I know you have to go.”
    “Is this about the priesthood?” he asked. “I don’t want you to give in just because I’ve got the priesthood. I’m not trying to use my authority. You can tell me no, and I swear I’ll listen.”
    “No, it’s not about the priesthood. I know you wouldn’t use it that way.”
    “Then why are you giving in so easily?”
    “If I tell you, promise you won’t mock me.”
    “Mock?” he asked, feeling hurt. “When have I ever done that?”
    “Maybe mock is the wrong word. I don’t want you to pick apart my words, over-analyze them. Just listen. Promise you’ll do that?”
    “Okay, I promise.”
    “I prayed tonight about what you should do, and the Spirit whispered that this was the right thing to do. So I’m already decided.”
    “Oh.”
    Jacob was suspicious of getting answers to questions via prayer, the Spirit, or any other supernatural means. He was open to the possibility, but too often people claimed to get answers from the Lord that just happened to match what duty told them to do, or what would benefit them personally.
    Every single time they approached a young woman about marriage, they would say something like, “The Lord wants you to marry Brother So-and-So.” Nine times out of ten, the girl would bow her head and say, “Thou sayest.” She would go to bed that night, thinking the Lord had already spoken to her father or to the church leaders. Maybe she’d pray and get her own spiritual confirmation.
    What she didn’t know was that the night before men had gathered at the church house or in the temple to discuss her fate. “I’ll hand over my daughter, if you’ll give me yours.” Or maybe, “I’ll take your daughter now, and pledge two of my own, once they are of age.”
    And of course the girl would get the expected answer to her prayers. She wouldn’t be happy about it, but who was she to question what the Lord had already confirmed to her father, or to one of the church elders?
    Was Fernie suffering the same thing? She knew Jacob was set on going, she knew she should obey her husband, and therefore she’d received the correct answer. Jacob remembered his promise and bit his tongue to keep from voicing these thoughts.
    “This is the Lord’s plan,” Fernie said. “Not just for the missing woman. For you, too. For our family.”
    “How do you mean?”
    “I don’t know anything about this Brother Timothy, or his church, other than what I’ve heard. That’s just rumors and gossip. Maybe they’re for real, or maybe this is just another