The Work and the Glory (246 page)

  Joshua Steed

Matthew lowered the paper and stared at Jenny and her mother. “That crazy fool! He’s in no shape to—”

“Read the back,” said Mrs. McIntire.

In surprise, he turned the paper over. There was Joshua’s scrawl on that side as well.

Matthew—

  I’m sorry to run out on you like this, but knowing what an insolent pup you are, I didn’t feel like discussing it with you. Don’t worry about me. I’m much stronger now. (I did sixteen rounds yesterday.) But strong or not, I have to go. It can’t wait any longer. Go home. I shall write when I know something. Thanks for the crutch. I hate it!

  Joshua

Mrs. McIntire sighed deeply. “I shouldn’t have told him.”

Matthew dropped the note on the table. “Told him what?”

She sighed again. “Yesterday, when I went to town? There were some men talking at the store. One of them said they’d been out riding past our place and had seen a man walking around my barns on a crutch.”

Matthew drew in his breath sharply.

“I made up some story about it being a boy I’d hired.” She crossed herself quickly. “Lord forgive me, when they pressed I just straight out denied it.”

Matthew’s mind was in turmoil. There was no question now about what had to be done. The fact that Joshua was gone made it easier in one way. It frightened him, but Joshua
was
stronger. Yet not strong enough to outrun men on horseback. He looked at Mrs. McIntire. “I’ll get my things together.”

“No!” Jenny stepped forward, her eyes pleading.

Matthew looked at her, started to say something, couldn’t decide what could possibly help, and then looked helplessly at her mother.

Mrs. McIntire turned slowly, wearily. “Jenny, there’s no choice. If the men come out here looking . . .” She shrugged and looked at Matthew. “Joshua’s right, you know.”

“About what?” Matthew asked.

“About going home.” The kindliness of Mrs. McIntire’s face was more evident than he had ever seen it before, and she had always been a wonderfully sensitive woman. “He’s got several hours’ head start on you, Matthew. And you don’t know which way he went. Go home. Tell Nathan and your family.”

Matthew started nodding even before she finished. “Yes. That’s right.” He felt a great relief. The thought of striking off to try and find Joshua in a countryside swarming with men out looking for Mormons was staggering to him. “Be sure there’s no sign that we were here.”

“I will,” she said. She touched his arm. “You’d best hurry.”

* * *

“Jenny, Kathryn, I’d like to speak with your mother alone for a moment if I could.”

The girls looked a little surprised, but Jenny immediately shepherded her sister into the bedroom where Joshua had slept, and shut the door. Matthew turned slowly back around, letting the small valise with his stuff drop to the floor. “Mrs. McIntire, you’ve been so good to us. Derek was right when he said you were a Christian woman. I . . . well, just thank you.”

There was a touch of mistiness to her eyes. “Actually, it is we who thank you. It’s been marvelous to have your company. It gets pretty lonesome this far out.” She looked toward the bedroom. “Especially for young people.”

Matthew nodded; then, with time pressing him, plunged in. “Mrs. McIntire, I’d like to give Jenny a gift. But I don’t want to do it without you knowing.”

One eyebrow had come up. “I think that would be nice, Matthew.”

He swallowed quickly. “I’d like to give her my Book of Mormon.”

The eyebrow positively arched now.

“I know you have your own religion and all,” he said hastily, “and I’m not trying to make her into a Mormon or anything like that. But, well, she said she wanted to know more about what we believe. And . . .” Now he was totally flustered. “The Book of Mormon is the most important thing I have with me right now. I’d like to . . . I’d like her to have it, if it’s all right with you.”

Nancy McIntire leaned back slightly, eyeing him very carefully. “Do you like her, Matthew? Do you like my daughter?”

He ducked his head, unable to meet her probing gaze. “Yes, I do.”

She bored in more forcefully. “I think you know how I mean that?”

“Yes.” He looked up quickly, then down again. “Yes, I do.”

There was a sudden warmth in her eyes. “Then yes, I give my permission. You may give her your book.”

He couldn’t hide his surprise. “But—”

She smiled up at him. “It’s been wonderful for Jenny to have you here. It’s the most alive I’ve seen her in a long time. If you give her a present, it is going to mean a great deal to her. I just had to make sure it would mean as much to you as it will to her.”

* * *

On the last day of November, the Steed family received three wonderful surprises. Over breakfast, Rebecca and Derek announced that Rebecca was with child. Then shortly after noon, a very weary Matthew Steed walked up the street toward his brother’s cabin. Derek and Peter were out back cutting firewood. Peter looked up and nearly dropped the ax. Then with shouts to alert the house, he and Derek both raced to greet Matthew. This time the joy in the Steed household was tempered by the news that Joshua had left the McIntires’ and was trying to make his way back to his family. During all that time he was there, Matthew had not dared to send a letter home from Daviess County. Any mail going to Far West would have instantly brought the McIntires under suspicion, so the news that Joshua’s leg was partially paralyzed also came as a shock to them. That only added to the gravity of the situation. Nathan called for a family council right after they finished the midday meal.

But the third surprise, the most wonderful of all, came about an hour later, just as the family council got under way. Nathan had just opened up the discussion on what they should do, when they heard a noise outside.

Everyone turned toward the door. It was the noise of people, and it was swelling rapidly. People were shouting and calling out. Curious, Peter went outside. The rest of the adults followed. Half a block up the street there was a small crowd of people gathered in a circle. A woman gave a shriek of joy and started dancing around. Children were yelling, people were pouring out of their houses to see what was going on.

“What is it?” Lydia asked. “What’s happening?”

A man broke loose and came running toward them. He was waving his hat. “The brethren are coming! The brethren are coming! The rest of the prisoners have been released!”

* * *

On November twenty-fourth, Judge Austin King released twenty-three of the Mormon prisoners, stating that there was not sufficient evidence to sustain the charges. That had sent the Mormon community into a paroxysm of joy, for it proved what they had known all along—there was no foundation for the charges levied against the brethren. Rumors raced through Far West that Joseph and the rest would soon be released as well. Then on the twenty-eighth, after almost three weeks of false testimony and the most illegal of legal proceedings, Judge King made another ruling. Eleven prisoners would be held over for trial. Joseph, Hyrum, and Sidney Rigdon—all three members of the First Presidency—and three others would be tried in the spring in Daviess County for treason, and in the meantime would be held prisoner in Liberty, Clay County. Five others, including Parley P. Pratt, would remain in Richmond to be tried there for murder in connection with the Battle of Crooked River. The remaining twenty-nine prisoners were released and allowed to return to their homes.

Benjamin Steed was near the end of the column of men who trudged slowly up the long rise toward Far West. They could see silhouettes of some of the houses on the skyline, and a ripple of excitement swept up and down the line of returning men. But Benjamin was so exhausted that he could barely muster enough energy to raise his head. The two-day march and being outside in the winter weather around the clock had taken their toll on him. His lungs were on fire again. The cough ripped at his insides in regular spasms now and left him gasping and wheezing in agony. It took his total concentration to lift one foot and move it forward after the other one was put down.

It was only when he heard a great shout go up that he stopped and raised his head again. The column staggered to a ragged halt. He squinted, trying to make out what it was they were seeing against the late-afternoon sun. And then with a powerful, wrenching rush of relief he realized what it was. From out of the city streamed a river of humanity—men, women, children. They were running and shouting and waving their arms. Dogs ran alongside, barking wildly. They flowed toward the column in a great mass and then began to split as they reached the men. Only then did individual faces begin to come into focus for Ben. He recognized Reynolds Cahoon’s wife as she came running down the line, crying out his name. Bishop Patridge was nearly bowled over by his oldest son, then swarmed downed by his wife and other children. Benjamin felt a pang of sorrow as he recognized Parley Pratt’s young wife, holding a baby, frantically looking for her husband. She had not yet been told that not everyone was returning. A man stepped out of line and whispered in her ear. She crumpled visibly and started to weep.

“Benjamin! Benjamin!”

He straightened with an effort, scanning the hundred faces that were running towards them.

“Papa!” “Grandpa!” “Father Steed!”

Now the voices took on shape and identity. He raised one hand, waving feebly. “I’m here!” he called, still not seeing them. And then he had them. Nathan was in front, holding Mary Ann’s hand as they ran toward him. Matthew was on the other side of her, guiding her by her elbow so she didn’t trip. Behind them came Lydia and Jessica, Derek and Rebecca and Peter. They were shepherding the children. Lydia and Jessica carried their babies. A great sob tore loose inside him and his knees almost buckled. It was his family. He was back with his family.

* * *

Nathan held Lydia’s hand tightly as they walked slowly along, up the street away from their cabin. Neither of them spoke. They both knew what was coming, and both wanted to postpone it as long as possible. Finally he slowed his step. Lydia looked down at the ground, knowing the moment had come.

“You know it will be suicide if he tries to go into Jackson County,” Nathan said.

“I know. If they think he’s dead, his appearance will create a sensation. If they think he’s still alive, then there’ll be a price on his head.” They still were not sure what the Missourians knew about Joshua.

“Exactly. That’s why I’ve got to find him.” Nathan looked down at his wife. He took her hands in his and peered into her eyes. For a moment he was struck again with his great fortune in loving and finally winning this beautiful, dark-haired woman who could have had any young man in all of western New York State.

He cleared his throat to speak, but she beat him to it. “You have to go, Nathan.”

That took him aback.

She looked away, her eyes glistening. “Even saying the words leaves me sick, but you know and I know there is no choice. He’s out there alone and crippled, desperate to find Caroline. But what I said before is still true. We . . .
I
owe Joshua a debt that cannot ever be repaid. And Caroline—what she must be going through by now!”

He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed them softly. “You know what this means?”

She looked away quickly. “More sharply than you can dream.”

“If Caroline has left Independence, it could take weeks to find where she has gone. I . . . I don’t know how long the militia is going to let us stay here. What if they make you leave the state before I get back?”

She put her arms around him. “That’s why Derek cannot go with you. I’d feel much safer about it if he did, but with Father Steed so sick, we must have Derek and Matthew to be the men of the house.”

“I know.”

She pulled up tight against him and her hands began to rub his back, feeling the old welts and scars beneath his shirt. “It absolutely terrifies me to think of you going back into Jackson County and . . .” She couldn’t bring herself to say it. She changed the subject to make her mind go on to other things. “How will you ever find him? You don’t even know which way he went?”

“I’ll start in St. Joseph.”

“St. Joseph? Why there?”

His brow furrowed. It was obvious he had thought this through already. “He won’t head straight south. Not when the militia is all over the place. And St. Joe is only forty miles from Gallatin. It’s the closest city. And remember, he takes freight there all the time. He’ll have people there he knows, people who can help him. I’ll go west from here, then take the road that goes up in case he’s already started down.”

She nodded. “He’s got two days start on you, but Matthew says he can’t move very fast.”

He put his hand under her chin and tipped her head back. “Lydia, I love you. There is nothing else except my family that would make me leave you again.”

She was crying openly against him now. “You must go immediately, Nathan. Every hour you are delayed will make it more difficult for you to find him.”

He leaned down and kissed her very tenderly, but for a very long time. Then they straightened, turned around, and walked quickly back to the cabin.

* * *

Nathan left Far West within the hour of his farewell to Lydia. Late that afternoon, a fourth unexpected event occurred with the Steeds. A letter arrived from St. Louis from Caroline Steed addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Steed. Unfortunately, Nathan had gone and was not there to know of it. The reading of it brought a great pall to the Steed household.

* * *

“But I don’t understand, Derek,” Rebecca said. “It can’t be the Danites, can it?”

Derek shook his head. “No.” It came out flat and hard. There was no question in his mind about that. “First of all, the group was disbanded the moment Brother Joseph learned what Avard was doing. Secondly, Avard has gone over to the Missourians. That sniveling coward wouldn’t dare continue to function now.”

“But the note that was on Caroline’s door . . .”