Read Just Keep Sweet (The Compound Series) for Free Online

room to leave only inches between herself and her daughter.
    “Um . . .” Ruthie looked away, her long brunette braid draped over her shoulder. “Father asked me to find something.”
    “To find what?” Aspen crossed her arms.
    “He, um . . . he didn’t say . . . exactly. Just . . . something.”
    “Ruth Margaret,” she snapped, grabbing her daughter’s left wrist. “How dare you snoop through my belongings? I should whoop you right here and now.”
    “I’m sorry, Mama, I—please don’t tell Papa. Please don’t tell him I was here.”
    “How stupid do you think I am?” Aspen sneered, peering down at her daughter, who avoided her prying stare. “Look . . . at . . . me.”
    “I don’t, I swear it.”
    “Who really sent you, Ruthie? You’d better tell me now, because if your father tells me he knows nothing of this, I will spank you so hard your head will spin.”
    “Fine!” Ruthie held up one hand, pressing her eyes tight. “It was the prophet.”
    “Excuse me?” Aspen’s stomach lurched and her throat burned. “When did he ask you to do this? When were you alone with him? When, Ruthie, when?”
    “We were never alone, Mama, I swear it.”
    “Were you in his house?” The idea of him putting his hands on her baby was more than Aspen could handle. Visions of that horrific bed in the temple spun threw her brain. Feeling lightheaded, she steadied herself with the corner of her dresser. “Ruthie, I want answers, and I want them this instant.”
    “After temple on Sunday . . . I promise, Mama. You took Jeremiah to the bathroom, and he pulled me aside to ask a favor. He gave me a cookie and we spoke for just a few minutes.”
    “A cookie?”
    “Yes, the butter ones that I love so much. Remember, I’d already taken two . . . and you said that was enough . . . to leave more for the other children. Well, he thought I’d like another.”
    “So, you betrayed me for what? For him? For a silly cookie?”
    The very daughter I’m trying to save is spying on me? Betrayal of the highest order. And for what? To please Clarence? To have an extra dessert she knew I wouldn’t allow?
    “No, it’s not like that, Mama. I swear. He’s planning a gift, a tribute to you.”
    “A tribute?”
    Lies. Nothing but lies and manipulation . . . and she’s too young, too wrapped around his little finger to understand.
    “Yes. He said if I could find a journal . . . a diary, something where you shared your thoughts, that he could properly know his future mother-in-law better.”
    “And you believe that?” she scoffed, her hands crossed over her chest.
    “Of course. He’s the prophet, Mama.”
    “You listen to me. There is no journal, no diary. But even if there was, your loyalty should remain to your family, not to the prophet.”
    “But that’s not true,” Ruthie said, placing her hands on her hips. “You’ve always taught me that the prophet comes first. Prophet, then parents, then siblings. You’ve said that hundreds of times, Mama. Maybe thousands!”
    It was true. Children were taught to pledge their absolute loyalty to Clarence Black . . . their love, their devotion. And as a devoted member of the FLDS, Aspen made sure her children especially followed the expectations of his holy word.
    And now it was backfiring in a big way.
    “You’re right,” Aspen muttered, breaking their eye contact. Her voice caught in her throat, and she cursed herself for allowing her vulnerability to show.
    “But this?” she continued. “Spying on your own mother? This is too much. Too much.”
    Ruthie rolled her eyes and a deep rumble of anger formed in Aspen’s gut.
    “Did you just roll your eyes?”
    “I was just doing what I was told!” Ruthie snapped at her mother, stomping her foot. “You’re just jealous.”
    Aspen’s lower lip dropped open. “What did you just say to me?”
    “He picked me! He never picked you . . . and you’re jealous. Marrying the prophet is the highest honor any girl can have, and