“I’ll have to check with them. Give me one sec,” he muttered, threading his way through the crowd. He tapped the should of a strapping blonde and motioned back to me. I thrust my chest out slightly, fingering my hair. Predictably, goosebumps erupted on my arms, a frisson of lust hitting me. I watched subtlety as the full gaze of the Wicker sons hit me. Yes, get me to their house. I was going to be powered up in no time. Trent raced back with a smile lit on his face.
“They said you’re welcome, and you too, Mom and Dad. If you prefer?” He sounded like he’d rather not.
“No, we trust you to chaperone Allera. Take good care of her.” My uncle arched his eyebrow in silent command. Trent rolled his eyes.
“Obviously. Not that there is anything to worry about at the Wicker house.” Trent waved away their concern, and they laughed like he’d told a joke. I didn’t get it, so stayed silent. Trent looked over to the crowd where one guy was watching, and he waved.
“Come on, I brought my truck.” He could barely contain his glee as he ducked through the thinning crowd to the entrance. He ushered me into the cab and pulled out onto the road.
“Don’t mess this up for me,” Trent warned, low and serious. I had to contain the laugh that bubbled up my throat. He continued, pursing his lips at my silence.
“You’re new around here, but the Wicker family runs this town. They basically run the church too, but that’s another story. It is very important to be on the right side of the Wicker’s, and I’ve only recently been invited into their inner circle. I’m not a steadfast figure and if you reflect badly on me, they might cut me off.”
I fluttered my hand at my heart and looked at him with wide eyes.
“Why Trent, what could I possibly do to make a poor impression?” It was honest curiosity. Being demure wasn’t a trait I was used to emulating. It was the opposite of my nature. My life revolved around lust, sex, and the debauchery that came with. I wondered what it would look like for a woman in this lifestyle.
“Glory gracious, Allera.” Trent shook his head. “You know what I mean. You’re a godly girl. Keep that at the forefront when we’re at the Wicker house. And stay away from Paul Wicker.”
My interest piqued, and I waited for him to elaborate, but he only tightened his hands on the steering wheel.
“What’s wrong with Paul Wicker?” I asked, making him hiss. He shot me a warning look.
“There isnothingwrong with Paul Wicker. He’s the eldest of the Wicker boys and a stand-up guy in the community. Just… don’t be caught alone with him.”
There was obviously more Trent wanted to say, but I drew my eyes outside as we turned into a red paved driveway lined with trees. The truck coasted up the steep path. It wasn’t long before a looming white homestead became visible. The front of the house had a neat little porch with a swinging chair and baskets of blue blossoms dangling down. Behind the tidy small house sprawled huge boxy add-ons. It seemed ramshackle with two stories, jutting out from the original house with modern fixtures.
“Damn,” I cursed under my breath, wincing when Trent sucked in a shocked breath.
“That’s what I’m talking about. I’ll forgive that blasphemy because it is shocking to see the Wickers homestead.”
I tried not to roll my eyes.
“That’s not a homestead. It’s a compound.”
“The Wickers have a large family and often host many visitors. Even the Prophet it going to stay here when he comes in two weeks.” He reached over and latched his fingers around my wrist. “I mean it. Don’t ruin this for me.”
I wondered at his insistence until I saw the swatch of sundresses flood out of one of the two vans that pulled into the circular drive. Now I understand.
“Which girl do you have your eye on?” I asked, searching the fresh faced, pure girls for one that might appeal to Trent. His cheeks flushed red, and he coughed in surprise.
“I-I-I don’t—That’s not---Allera!” but even as he protested, I watched his eyes follow a sweet girl with round cheeks and a yellow ribbon twisted in her long hair. He realized he’d given it away and flushed harder, his chin hitting his chest.
“I can talk you up. Just tell me her name,” I insisted, and he shook his head.
“There’s no point. We aren’t Wicker material. Her name is Christabel, though.” He sounded so forlorn that my heart ached a little.
“You work on winning over the brothers. I’ll make sure she notices you today,” I promised. His expression flickered with something I didn’t recognize before he gave me a tight-lipped smile. I didn’t have high hopes for the girl, not if she stayed in this town. Christabel would lie on her back and take whatever awkward thrusting her husband gave her. Maybe I could educate the boy before I left, give whoever he ended up married to some enjoyment. I patted Trent’s knee and gave him a wink. She was perfect for a straightlaced, God-fearing boy. Trent made to argue, but I was already slipping out of the truck, moving towards the front door. A pleasant older couple had taken up a post at the door. Obviously, it was John and Sandy Wicker. Trent had to catch up to me and I remembered as I strode ahead, I wasn’t supposed to have any autonomy. I was a good, obedient girl.
“You made good time, Trent. You weren’t driving silly behind the wheel, were you?” Sandy Wicker scolded him, smiling good-naturedly. She’d rouged her cheeks bright red like she was in a constant state of blush.
“I would never, Mrs. Wicker, besides I have my cousin I need to take good care of. This is Allera. Allera, this is John and Sandy Wicker.”
“It’s a pleasure. Thank you for welcoming me to your home. If you point me to the kitchen, I’d love to get stuck in preparing,” I spoke softly, eyes coasting over the lovely wood patio. Mrs. Wicker made a noise of approval, her fingers reaching out to squeeze my shoulder.
“How delightful. We would appreciate your help,” she said, and Mr. Wicker hummed under his breath.
“I heard rumors about what happened at your old church. You’ll find ours safer and purer.” I really needed to ask Landon what backstory he’d given me, but until then, I simply smiled and nodded.