The Work and the Glory (502 page)

Mary Ann was whispering urgently to Benjamin, but he too was shaking his head. He then turned to the others. “Peter is right. If we are forced to leave in the next two weeks, we will be facing a crisis. You’ve all seen our lists. You’ve heard the numbers. We have barely enough food to see us into July, or August at the latest. What if it takes us longer than that to find a home?”

“And what if we have to load it all into just three wagons?” Nathan came back again. “We have over thirty people we have to move. Aside from the food, we have no hardwood for making any more wagons. And even if we did, we can’t find, nor afford, the animals to pull them.”

“If we go with this other group, it will be two less mouths to feed,” Peter said, glad that Nathan could see the wisdom of their thinking. “Two less beds to carry. Basically, one less wagon you will need.”

“One less person who cannot walk,” Kathryn said calmly.

“We can’t just leave you to make it on your own,” Mary Ann said firmly.

Now Caroline, who had said nothing through all of it, raised her head. “At least they will be going.”

That stopped all further comment. The realities of even more difficult decisions hit them hard.

Nathan turned to Peter. “You know if there is any way that we can take you with us, we will. But thank you. Thank you for looking for other solutions.”

Peter gave one curt nod. “If they know we are Mormons, it may hurt our chances of being accepted. So . . .” He took in a breath. “There’s a stage to Springfield on Wednesday. We have about forty dollars saved. I think we’ll go there now and find somewhere to stay for a time. We won’t deny we’re Mormons, of course, but if we’re living in Springfield when the advertisement is finally put in the paper, maybe they won’t think to ask.”

“Wednesday?” Jenny cried in alarm. “That’s just three days from now.”

“If it doesn’t work out,” Peter went on doggedly, “we’ll come back. Otherwise, we’ll write and let you know what our plans are.”

Now the room was silent. Hopes and reality were being split asunder on this night, and no one knew quite what to do about it. Caroline did not look up. The pain for her was too great, and she couldn’t bear to even think about it.

Savannah sat on the piano bench, her fingers running lightly and soundlessly over the piano keys.

“Savannah?” Her mother’s voice floated to her from the kitchen. “Why aren’t you practicing?”

“I am, Mama.” She plunked out a quick scale. But in a moment she was staring out the window again. There were footsteps behind her, but she didn’t move.

“Savannah, you have got to practice. I need you to go to the store for me in a few minutes.”

“Mama?”

“What?”

“Is it true that we have to leave in two weeks?”

“Who told you that?”

“Sarah.”

“Oh.” Which meant Melissa had heard the news from someone and talked about it with her children.

“Sarah says she’s not going.”

“That’s right, Savannah. Uncle Carl and Aunt Melissa are going to stay in Nauvoo.”

“But why, Mama? If Heavenly Father wants us to leave, why do they want to stay?”

“Because they’re not sure that Heavenly Father wants that for everybody.” She was tempted to say more, but knowing Savannah’s penchant for talking openly to anyone about anything, she let it go.

“Are
you
sure that’s what Heavenly Father wants?”

“Yes, I am,” Caroline murmured, feeling a sudden ache inside.

“Then we’re going, aren’t we, Mama?”

With a sigh, she sat down on the piano bench beside her daughter. “We don’t know yet, Savannah. Your papa and I haven’t decided.”

“We have to go, Mama! We have to. If it’s what Heavenly Father wants, we have to.”

“Your father isn’t sure it is what God wants for us either,” she said sadly.

“Well, I’m going!” Savannah said, folding her arms in defiance.

“Savannah.”

“Well, I am. I’m going to tell Papa when he gets home that we have to go. We have to.”

“Savannah, I want you to listen to me. When you were baptized, you promised your Heavenly Father that you would try to live a good life and do what he asks of you. That’s what baptism means. It means we try to live as Jesus and Heavenly Father want us to.”

“Yes, I know. I’ve been trying to do that.”

“I know you have. You’ve been wonderful. I’ve been very proud of you. Even your father has commented on it. But one of the things that Heavenly Father wants us to do is to honor our fathers and mothers. You’ve learned about that in the Bible, haven’t you?”

Now Savannah saw what was coming. “Yes, Mother,” she said meekly.

“I know you want to go, Savannah, and so do I, but there’ll be no more running away, no more hiding. If we decide it is not best to go right now, then you need to honor your father and me in that decision. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Mama.”

Caroline reached over and kissed her on the top of the head. “I know Heavenly Father wants the Church to go west, but in our case, he may want us to stay behind. For your papa’s sake. Do you understand what I mean?”

“Yes, Mama.”

Caroline reached out and rubbed her hand along the polished wood. “If we do go, Savannah, we can’t take your piano with us.”

She flinched. “We can’t?”

“No. It’s much too big and heavy. It would take one wagon just to carry it.”

That hit her hard. Her mouth twisted into a deep frown, and her eyes looked hurt. “But I love my piano,” she cried.

“I know you do,” Caroline said, lifting her hand now to touch Savannah’s hair. “But if we go, the piano will have to stay. Would that make a difference about whether or not you want to go?”

“Can I have a piano when we get to the Rocky Mountains?”

Caroline smiled, but it was sad and filled with wistful longing. “Probably not. At least not for a long time.”

Savannah twisted her fingers round one strand of her red hair where it fell over her shoulders. The deep blue eyes weighed that information carefully.

“Well?”

“I think pleasing Heavenly Father is more important than playing the piano.”

Caroline hugged her, trying not to cry. “I think pleasing Heavenly Father is more important than most things, Savannah.”

Savannah started plunking a single note with her right little finger. “I’m praying that Papa will change his mind,” she said after a moment.

Caught off guard, Caroline nodded. “I am too, Savannah. Every morning and every night.”

Savannah stopped playing and looked up at her mother. “Then we’ll get to go,” she said simply.

They stood together in Matthew’s cabinet-shop-turned-wagon-factory—Nathan, Solomon, Derek, and Matthew. No one said much now. The pile of lumber they were looking at was sufficient to make one more wagon box—barely—but they had not a single piece of hardwood. Not one. Pine and spruce were all right for the wagon box, but the axles, the tongue, the hubs—unless they were of ash or hickory or oak, they would wear down like butter too close to the fire. Matthew and Derek had just returned from a two-day trip to Peoria. They had come back with nothing. Not a single board. That was the fierceness of the competition for the wood required to make a good wagon.

“Well,” Nathan finally said, “there’s not much point in making the box until we’re sure we can get the rest of what we need. I say we go help the women with the final work on the tents.”

Solomon Garrett didn’t move. He thought of his own small farm wagon. Could they strip it for parts? But he knew the answer even as he thought of the question. Brigham had asked that every wagon have a span of five feet from wheel to wheel so that the roads would not have to be made to handle a variety of wheelbases. Solomon’s wagon had hardwood pieces, all right, but they were all on too small a scale for what they needed. If they had no choice, he might have to take that one anyway, but it was only slightly better than having nothing at all.

Matthew looked up as the sound of a wagon and team was heard outside. When it stopped, he moved a few steps so he could look out the window. There was a soft exclamation, and then he whirled. “It’s Joshua and Carl. They’re back.”

“I was hoping to find more than one, Nathan,” Joshua said ruefully. “Last year we had several wagons and teams that I could have spared. But this year we’re having to range out farther and farther from the river to get good timber. That means more wagons and mules to get it down to the water.”

“This is more than we expected, Joshua,” Nathan said. “A wagon and two good mules. It’s like an answer to prayers.”

“I only wish I could do more.”

Carl looked at Matthew. “Melissa said you’ve sold the shop here.”

“Yes, I’m sorry, Carl. I—”

Carl held up one hand quickly. “You don’t have to explain. I’m just sorry it didn’t work out so I could help you.”

Joshua gave a soft, mirthless hoot. “Old Carl and me are a couple of paupers, aren’t we now? There were even a couple of times on this trip that we had to go without meals and had to sleep in someone’s barn before we got up to Frenchie’s camp and got enough money and food to get us back home again.”

“How does it look for this spring?” Solomon asked.

“Good,” Joshua said, forcing a brightness into his voice. “We’ll have a big raft. Maybe two. If the price of lumber will just hold, I’ll be back in business again.” He turned to Nathan and frowned deeply. “Thanks to you and Will, I’m going to have to find me another lumber foreman for next year.”

“Thanks to me?” Nathan said in surprise. “Why? Where’s Jean Claude going?”

“West.”

“West? You mean with us?”

Joshua jerked his head up and down in one swift motion. “Says he’ll bring these rafts down and make sure he’s got me a good replacement; then he plans to buy him a wagon with the wages he’s saved and go find you.”

“Well, well,” Nathan said slowly. Actually, he got little credit for the conversion of Jean Claude Dubuque. It had been Will that had taught him the gospel.

Joshua grunted, half in disgust, half in respect. “Says he wants to go out there and find him some land, marry a good, stalwart Mormon woman, have half a dozen children or so, and become a solid citizen.”

“Good for him,” Solomon said.

“Yes,” Matthew agreed. “Good for Jean Claude.”

Joshua turned to Nathan again. “Caroline told me about Peter and Kathryn. What’s going on?”

Nathan told him briefly, giving Peter’s reasoning. “They left yesterday on the stage.”

“He’s got grit,” Joshua said with admiration. “They both do. You’ve got to hand it to them for even having the courage to look into it. By the way, who is it that’s talking about going to California? I know a few people in Springfield.”

“‘G. Donner and others’ is the way the coming advertisement was signed. I guess they plan to run it in the paper down there.”

“George Donner?” Joshua asked in surprise.

“I suppose,” came the answer. “It just said G. Donner.”

“I’ll bet it’s George. He’s got a brother named Jacob. They’ve been talking about going off somewhere and getting free land. In fact, now that I think about it, I heard they went to Texas once but didn’t like the country there.”

“They’re the ones,” Matthew said. “Peter mentioned that about Texas. They said the land wasn’t that good and came back to Springfield.”

“My, my,” Joshua said, half to himself. “The Donner brothers. Well, they’re well enough off, all right. They could easily hire someone to help drive their wagons.”

“We don’t know whether to pray that they succeed or fail,” Derek said glumly.

Carl pulled at his lip. “It’s hard to consider them going on alone a blessing, but it’s a partial answer to some of your problems, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.” Nathan leaned forward, catching Joshua’s eye. “I suppose you haven’t changed your mind?”

There was a quick and emphatic shake of his head. “No, although I have to admit, I’m not angry anymore. I guess I was looking for someone to blame for all that’s happened. I’m sorry for sounding off like that about your God, Nathan.”

He waved that aside. “Leave religion out of it. Just think about the opportunities, Joshua. A whole new world to build. You too, Carl. I’ll bet that once the Saints are gone, Nauvoo will never recover. You may not be able to support a family making bricks any longer.”

Carl’s frown deepened. “Actually, I’ve been worrying about the same thing.” Then he shook his head. “But even if we have to find something else to do, Melissa and I are not interested in going into the wilderness and starting all over again.”

“I understand.” Nathan decided not to push either one of them further. “Well, we thank you for the wagon and mules. That will make it possible for us to be ready now.”

“I’m glad we could find that much,” Joshua answered. “I wish to heaven it was more.”

“Well,” Carl said, “I’ve been gone a long time. I’m going to go spend some time with the family.” He waved and headed for the door.

“Thank you, Carl.”

Joshua followed him to the door, but stopped after Carl had stepped outside. “You ready for a shock, little brother?” he said to Nathan.

“What kind of a shock?”

“I think I’ve hit on a compromise for me and Caroline.”

That was enough to make Nathan’s mouth drop open. “You have?”

“Yes. I’ve been thinking a lot about what Brigham said that night, and about what you keep harping on. It could be an interesting opportunity out there.”

“A hundred interesting opportunities,” Nathan said eagerly.

Matthew piped in now, just as eagerly. “You could do anything you wanted to, Joshua. Hauling freight. Commerce. Mining. Construction.”

Joshua laughed easily, no longer taking offense with their attempts to sway him over. “There’s only one problem. I’ve got nothing, absolutely nothing, now. I couldn’t outfit even half a wagon, let alone get enough to take my family out of here in two weeks, or even two months.”

“Keep the one you brought us. If you go, we’ll share. We’ll make do,” Nathan cried, hardly believing what he was hearing.

“No. Not yet. But let me get that lumber down here next spring, let me get some cash in my pocket again. By then Brigham will have found his promised land, and then, just maybe . . .” He shrugged. “At least it’s enough to give Caroline some hope that the separation from the family won’t be permanent.”