Mighty and Strong (The Righteous) Page 2

  “Would you like to get her into a gown, Dr. Christianson?”

  Emma eyed the hospital gown draped over Crystal's arm with something like panic and Jacob shook his head. “Let's get some history first, we'll go from there.” He turned to Emma. “Go ahead, have a seat.”

  The girl sat on the edge of the paper-covered examination table. She didn't take her eyes from Crystal, who had noticed something amiss in the supplies by the sink and busied herself straightening up.

  “I can't,” she said in a tiny voice. “Not in front of. . .not while she's. . .”

  “Don't worry about Crystal. She's here to help. And it's a good idea to have two people in the room. Helps keep you safe.”

  “Safe from what?”

  The confusion on her face made him hope it wasn't what he'd feared. If her imagination couldn't come up with a reason why it was safer not to leave a doctor alone with a young girl, maybe she hadn't been abused after all. “It's just a rule we have at the hospital.”

  She shook her head. “I don't care, I can't.”

  He sighed and took Crystal into the hallway. “You'd better stay out here.”

  Crystal frowned. “Are you sure that's a good idea? I thought you said—”

  “Here's what I'm going to do. I'll pull the curtain around the examination table and turn on the light. Come stand at the doorway, quietly. You'll get everything.”

  “Ah, got it.”

  Even with that, it took a few minutes for Emma to get it out. When she finally did, it was blurted, loud enough to make her and Jacob both flinch.

  “I'm pregnant.”

  “Oh, I see.” He hesitated for a moment, wondering how to proceed. “Emma, are you married?”

  “No, but that's the problem. My mother said I needed to prepare myself, pray for the Lord to send me a husband in His good time, so that I'll be a righteous vessel. I was hard-hearted and now the Lord is going to punish me. I think I'm going to hell.”

  “You're not going to hell. We all do stupid things, that's what makes us human.” He pulled up a rolling stool and sat down. “Who is the father?”

  “My big brother.”

  Jacob's mouth went dry. On the other side of the curtain he heard Crystal draw a sharp breath.

  Emma didn't seem to notice, or recognize that her admission meant she would spend the rest of her childhood as a ward of the state and probably send her big brother to prison. “Half-brother,” she continued. “From my mother's sister-wife. I've got his seed in me. He's sixteen.”

  Okay, maybe not prison. He'd assumed the brother was eight or ten years older. But still, this sort of thing happened disgustingly often. Jacob had a niece who was also a half-sister once removed. He'd told his father again and again that you couldn't keep moving half-siblings from state to state and then put them back under the same roof as teenagers. Father didn't care.

  So often, parental attention went to the youngest children and the older ones ran wild. Especially boys. Why bother? Not enough wives to go around, so most would be booted from the church at eighteen or nineteen. It was the perfect environment for dumb mistakes, for stronger boys to prey on younger, weaker half-brothers and sisters.

  “How long since your last period?” he asked.

  She blushed. “I-I'm not sure. I just want you to make it go away.”

  He was even more taken aback by that. As grave a sin as fornication was, it was a shadow of abortion, which was the same as murder. Even Jacob, unchained from the most dogmatic teachings, couldn't terminate a pregnancy for non-medical reasons. It was against hospital policy, anyway. Emma would have to travel to Salt Lake to get it done. He'd have to refer her, and he wasn't sure if he'd need parental permission.

  “Just to be clear,” he said, “you want to terminate the pregnancy?”

  “Terminate? That means make it go away, right?”

  “It means abort the fetus.”

  “An abortion?” she asked in a strangled voice. “No, I don't mean an abortion. That's murder.”

  “But do you have a rough idea of how long it's been since your last period? Weeks, months?”

  “I told you, I don't know.”

  “And you're sure you're pregnant?”

  “Aren't you listening? His seed entered me.”

  Something about the way she said it sounded off. “Tell me how it happened.”

  “We have a new mother and so they're building more rooms on the house. They tore off the wall on my room and so me and two sisters moved into Ammon's room. He's my brother. The boys moved out, of course.”

  “Go on.”

  She wrinkled her face. “I told Ella to change the sheets—it was her laundry day—and she said she did. But when I got into bed, there was something sticky in it. I thought it was candy or something.” She gave a shudder. “The next day, my sister found an underwear catalog under the mattress and the pages were stuck together. She said Ammon had been abusing himself. Looking at the ladies and. . .touching himself.”

  “It's called masturbation, and it's common for adolescents.”

  “It's a disgusting and pernicious sin.”

  “We don't need to talk about Ammon. Let's move along to when you got pregnant.”

  “But don't you see? He left his seed on the bed and I slept on it. I wasn't wearing any clothes. My mom told me not to sleep naked and I should have listened. Why didn't I listen?” she asked in a groan. “It was a hot night. And his seed was right under my bum. I try to sleep with my legs tightly closed, but sometime during the night—”

  “But that's all?” Jacob interrupted. “You never had relations with Ammon? You never committed fornication?” He'd slipped into religious language and he corrected himself. “You never had sexual intercourse, I mean?”

  “No, but that doesn't matter. Sperms can swim, you know.”

  “Emma, sperm are microscopic, and they're not little heat-seeking missiles. Wherever they fall, there they stay, and they can't live long in the open air.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked. “I'm not pregnant?”

  “There's only one way to find out. We'll get a urine test and perform a quick examination.”

  “No, I don't want to.” She stood up, looked around the room. “I just want to go now. Never mind, what I said. Just never mind.”

  “Emma, you told us you might be pregnant. You're only fifteen. There are people at the hospital whose job it is to make sure children aren't being abused.

  “I'm not being abused.”

  “Emma, you're a minor. If you leave, I'll make a call and they'll stop you on the way out. And then a social worker will come.” A bit of a bluff.

  “And then what will happen?”

  “You know who I am, so you know what happened to my church,” he said.

  “They took all the kids out of Blister Creek.”

  “And Harmony too, and White Valley. They returned most of them, but there were a few, the ones they thought had been abused, who they stuck in foster care. Raised by apostate Mormons and even atheists and other gentiles.”

  Emma looked horrified. “You can't do that.”

  “Not if you're not pregnant. Not if you haven't been sexually molested.”

  She sat back down. “What do I need to do?”

  It took a good deal of coaxing to get Emma to agree to change into a gown, and Crystal came three times to the examination room before she'd actually done it. Once she was gowned, she peed into a cup readily enough and agreed to an examination. She no longer protested when Crystal was in the room.

  Emma had apparently told the truth. The urine test came back negative and an examination revealed she was still a virgin and showed no signs of abuse. The blood test would confirm, he was sure, that she wasn't pregnant.

  When he finished, Jacob set the speculum in the tray, relieved. He pulled off his gloves and dropped them in the receptacle while Emma removed her feet from the stirrups. “I've got a couple of things I want you to read about sexual health.”

 
“Isn't it bad to read stuff like that?”

  “It's never bad to know more about your own body. Your body isn't bad, it's not dirty or wicked. And always remember it belongs to you, not to anyone else.”

  “Until I'm married, and my body belongs to my husband,” Emma said.

  “Not even when you're married,” Crystal said. “Don't let any dirty old man tell you otherwise. And if he's already got a bunch of other wives—”

  “Listen to Crystal,” Jacob cut in before she could alienate the girl with a rant against polygamy. “She's absolutely right. It's your body. You decide if and when you get married.”

  “I turn sixteen in October. Is that old enough?”

  “No, it's not. It's healthier if you wait until you're older and have a chance to learn more about yourself, make the choice on your own. That's what the Lord wants, Emma. Do you understand me?”

  A twinge of guilt. Why was he always telling people what the Lord wanted—when he had no idea, whatsoever—but couldn't have been smart enough to tell a tiny lie on his resume to protect his wife and children? And he could see that Emma wasn't buying it, anyway. She might make it to sixteen, but he doubted she'd make it to seventeen.

  And now he'd outed himself to Crystal. He glanced in her direction, but if she'd thought anything of his tacit admission, her face didn't show it.

  “Can I put my clothes back on now?”

  “Of course,” Jacob said. “We'll give you some privacy. Look over these pamphlets. Take all the time you need. Crystal will be happy to answer any questions.”

  “Can I take them with me?”

  “Sure, but don't let anyone see you reading them. They're private, for you only.” He turned to go.

  “Dr. Christianson? Can I ask you one more question?”

  “Go ahead.”

  She was blushing. “Are you married?”

  Chapter Three:

  Emma Green may not have been pregnant, but she wanted to be. She wanted Jacob Christianson to be her husband, to put a baby in her. To come to her bed.

  She was so distracted thinking about him that she cut herself while peeling potatoes for dinner. Emma squeezed a drop of blood from her finger and said, “I'm almost sixteen, I'm old enough.”

  “What did you say?”

  It was one of her sisters, who was washing carrots in the sink. Black soil, heavily composted, turned the water to a muddy brown and swirled down the drain. Her sister scrubbed furiously at each carrot until it glistened, clean and orange.

  “I didn't say anything,” Emma said, and grabbed a paper towel to wrap around her finger. A red circle expanded through the white paper.

  She had no appetite that evening, and did her chores as quickly as possible, then said she was sleepy and went to bed early. She climbed naked into the top bunk, but not before checking and double-checking the sheets.

  As Emma lay in her bed, dreaming about the handsome young doctor, she remembered his hands on her body. He'd talked to her as he'd performed his examination.

  “I'm going to touch you right now,” Dr. Christianson had said. Later, “You're going to feel something a little cold.” Or, “This might be a little uncomfortable.” So calm and comforting.

  Nobody had ever touched her that way, but Emma didn't mind. He was a doctor, so it was okay that he was looking at her naked parts, right? He was so gentle, and wise.

  And one of us.

  Emma had heard her mother talking to sister wives about the polygamist doctor from Blister Creek working at Sanpete County. That's how she'd known to ask for him. And by the time he completed the examination, she'd known she wanted to be his wife, his eternal companion.

  And to think, she'd have never met him except for her disgusting brother, Ammon. Half-brother. Self-abuse, spilling his seed on the sheets. Teenage boys were so gross.

  Where had Dr. Christianson touched her? Emma slid her hand down her belly and was surprised to discover a damp place between her legs. She didn't think very long about that, instead imaging that Dr. Christianson—no, she would call him Jacob—that Jacob was with her in bed, with his hand between her legs. He would touch her like this, and like that.

  It would be okay, because they would be married, and he would be giving her a baby.

  Her breathing came fast and she flushed with warmth. It was the spirit making her feel so good, nothing else could do it. That feeling like some vast pleasure, rising from within, was the Lord's way of saying her desires were righteous, that Jacob Christianson was meant to be her husband.

  Her fingers rubbed more urgently and her body tensed. She couldn't catch her breath. A small groan came out of her mouth.

  Tomorrow, some small place in her head insisted. Tomorrow she would go to Brother Timothy, the prophet, and tell him what she had learned. He loved her, he would find a way to bring her husband to the compound.

  And then she would have him forever.

  #

  It wasn't a good sign when Dr. Hess told Jacob to drive down from Salt Lake on his day off for a one-on-one meeting. He was curt, almost rude when asked why.

  There was little sleep that night. The baby had an earache, and when Fernie finally got Nephi to sleep, Jacob couldn't stop tossing and turning. He was disturbing Fernie, so he started to get out of bed when she asked him what was wrong. Reluctantly, Jacob told her about Dr. Hess's phone call and that he suspected it had to do with the girl who'd come into the ER, thinking she was pregnant.

  “I'm sure it's nothing,” she said.

  “What if I lose my residency?”

  “You won't,” she said. “And it doesn't matter, because the Lord will provide for our family.”

  “Seems like He could have provided by reminding that girl's sister to change the sheets.”

  “Jacob, please.” He knew she didn't like it when he let his doubts show.

  “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. You're right, I'm sure it's nothing.”

  “No, I'm glad you told me, that's what I'm here for. Taylor would have never told me anything.” Taylor was her first husband, now in prison, his sealings to his wives dissolved by the church. “Jacob, let's not borrow trouble. They're not going to fire you because a girl came into the ER and asked for you by name.”

  #

  The next day, looking at Dr. Hess's grim face in the conference room, he wasn't so sure. He looked around the room, at the empty chairs. “Where is the board?”

  “This is a preliminary meeting. I'll make my recommendations to the board and proceed from there. Please, sit down.”

  Jacob did as he was told. He'd faced more difficult men than Dr. Hess. Keep his cool, that was the key. Except now he had a wife and children to worry about. The added responsibility weighed on his shoulders.

  “Can I ask the reason for this meeting?” Jacob asked.

  “We could dance around with pleasantries,” Hess said. “But let's get everything in the open, I think that's the best way to deal with this problem.”

  “Dr. Hess?”

  “Jacob, are you a polygamist?”

  “You don't want to talk about that trauma case last week?” Jacob asked. His fingers found a pencil on the table, left by someone from a previous meeting.

  “Don't be funny, Dr. Christianson. This isn't a joke.”

  Jacob felt his anger rising. “No, it's not. You took me aside after we saved that woman's life and told me how glad you were that you'd picked me instead of that woman from Berkeley.”

  “This is not about your work. I thought that was obvious. It's about your inappropriate interaction with a young patient.”

  “Inappropriate? I didn't do anything inappropriate. Crystal Kincade was present at all times. The girl said a few strange things, but she was a confused, naive kid.”

  “Who'd apparently met you before. And thought you'd make good marriage material.”

  “I never saw her before in my life.” Jacob pushed the pencil away, afraid he would snap it in his fingers.

  “But she knew enough t
o ask for you by name. And suggest she become your polygamist wife.”

  “She also thought she was pregnant because she slept on a bed where a boy had masturbated.”

  “We can go around and around on this,” Dr. Hess said. “I want you to answer my question. Are you a polygamist?”

  “You do know it's illegal to ask about religion or marital status in a job interview, right? Which is what this is, considering the question of the renewal of my residency.”

  “Polygamy is not a religion and it's not a marital status. It's an illegal behavior. Believe me, I've consulted with legal about this already and I'm well within my rights, especially considering what happened with the patient.”

  “Nothing happened with the patient!”

  “Are you a polygamist?”

  “No, I am not. I have one wife. Legally married by the state of Utah. I have not married, cohabited, or had any other unlawful or immoral relations with any other woman. Not that it's any of your business.”

  There was a long moment of silence. Jacob had conceded ground the moment he lost his temper and told Dr. Hess more than the man had asked. It was a stupid mistake.

  Hess leaned back in his chair. He seemed less angry, but also more confident, almost smug. It was an unpleasant side Jacob had never seen before.

  Hess said, “After Crystal Kinkade told me what the patient told you and what you said in response, I took the liberty to go through your file. Your resume. Did a little digging I should have done before we hired you in the first place.”

  “There's nothing to dig. Everything on my resume is one hundred percent accurate.”

  “Maybe so, but there are some revealing things, that's for sure. This line, for example.” He took out a sheet of paper and slid it across the table.

  Jacob looked down at the highlighted section of his resume, then slid it back. “There's nothing special there. I went to high school. I got good enough grades to earn a scholarship at the University of Calgary. I went to medical school at the University of Utah and did well enough that you hired me here. You were happy with my work until yesterday, when some random child said a few things.”