Free The Gates of Babylon by Michael Wallace Page B

moment, watching his wife move smoothly in the saddle, Jacob forgot that Fernie was almost completely paralyzed from the waist down, but then he caught a glimpse of the saddle he’d modified for her use, with leg braces connected to the stirrups. Miriam carried Jacob and Fernie’s baby in a sling on her back.
    Jacob helped his wife out of the saddle, shifted her weight in his arms, and carried her up toward the house.
    “You can set me down on the sidewalk and get me the chair, if you want.”
    “What would I do that for?” he said through puffing breaths.
    “Because I’m heavy and you’re an old man.”
    “I’m only thirty-three, that’s barely out of my twenties.”
    “I notice you didn’t argue with the heavy part.”
    “Oh, come on. You haven’t gained an ounce since I fell in love with you as a teenager.”
    “You’re such a liar,” Fernie said in a good-natured tone.
    “Except maybe your breasts. They’ve grown a bit.”
    She slapped his shoulders, but she looked pleased. Fernie may not complain about her condition, but Jacob saw the way she eyed herself in the mirror or looked sorrowfully at her once shapely legs, now atrophied and discolored.
    None of that mattered to Jacob. Her true beauty had always been in her face anyway, and in her voice, which was as smooth and creamy as crème brûlée to his ears. True, their lovemaking required more creativity than it had a year ago, but he still couldn’t get enough of her warmth, her lips on his, the flutter of her pulse when she was aroused. The truth was, in a valley where men married new wives with the same calculation they might apply to acquiring prize heifers, Jacob had given his heart to one woman and done so out of love and desire.
    He opened the screen door, hooked it with his foot, and carried her into the parlor to her wheelchair.
    “Okay, you proved your point, muscle man,” she said. “Now put me down and rescue Miriam from our baby. I’ve got to nurse, then get dinner going. The whole gang is here tonight. Plus company.”
    “You just got home—aren’t you tired? Make the ‘whole gang’ do the cooking tonight. Those kids aren’t earning their keep.”
    She shooed him with her hand. “Get.”
    Oh, she’d direct Jacob’s younger brothers and sisters. Even give orders to his father’s widows when necessary. But Fernie was mistress of the Christianson house, on top of her work at Yellow Flats and her role in the Women’s Council. It would have been easy to sit back after the accident and let people take care of her, but that wasn’t her style.
    Jacob returned to the front yard and reclaimed Jake from his sister-in-law. As she set off to take care of the horses, more riders arrived. The first were their other kids—Daniel and Leah on separate horses, riding with confidence even though they were only eleven and nine years old. Nephi, even younger, sat casually on the saddle in front of his sister. Their cousin Diego brought up the rear. Miriam and David’s adopted child, Diego was the same age as Daniel, but with his slight figure looked younger.
    Two adults followed the children on their own horses. Sister Lillian rode in the lead. She was living with the Christiansons, sharing Eliza’s bedroom while she decided whether or not to move back home to the Smoot compound. Officer Trost followed several paces back, his hat low over his eyes.
    Trost dismounted, let Lillian and the kids lead away his horse, then approached Jacob. One hand nervously rubbed at the gray stubble on his chin. “I would have returned earlier, if I’d known you were here.”
    “Your timing is perfect,” Jacob said. “I got home minutes ago.”
    “And? What did your quorum say?”
    “I didn’t ask for permission.”
    “But you hadn’t decided yet. So…?”
    Hadn’t he? He’d certainly claimed indecision after Trost’s initial request and offer. But maybe he only needed to consult with Fernie first. Explain why.
    “I’ve decided now. We’ll do