The Work and the Glory (16 page)

He stared at her, a little dazed. “And I like you, Lydia.”

She smiled, and at that moment, she was prettier than anything Joshua could ever remember seeing in his twenty years of living.

“Listen,” she went on quickly, “Wednesday my father has to go to Waterloo for supplies for the store. He’s taking my mother. They’ll be gone for three days. I’ll be staying at my aunt’s house. It’s about a mile south of town on the Canan-daigua Road. It’s a big white two-story house on the east side of the road. There’s a red barn out back.”

“All right,” Joshua said slowly, not sure what she meant.

“My aunt isn’t nearly as strict as my father.” She smiled, blushing a little. “And she doesn’t feel like she has to tell him everything.”

He grinned foolishly. “So if I were to come, I could see you.”

She nodded, laughing softly. “Can you come?”

Getting away from the farm during the week would be an interesting challenge, particularly in light of what was waiting for him at home today, but he didn’t hesitate a moment. “I’ll be there.”

“Good. It’s the Johnson farm.” And just that quickly she pulled back inside, gave him a quick wave, and shut the window.

For several moments Joshua stood rooted to the spot, staring at his reflection in the rough glass. Then he clenched his fist and punched the air with one sharp jab. “Yes!” was all he could think of to say.

It was just before noon when Joshua stepped up onto the front porch of the cabin. He took a deep breath. The soaring elation he had felt when Lydia came back to talk with him had long since vanished on the walk home. He took another quick breath, then hunched his shoulders slightly, as though bracing for a sudden blow, and opened the door.

He saw instantly he couldn’t have returned at a worse time. He had hoped the family would be scattered about, engaged in various activities, so his entrance would not be quite so dramatic. But they were all there, gathered around the table, the old family Bible opened in front of them.

For a moment it was like the scene was frozen in time. Matthew and Rebecca stared at him, eyes wide and round. Melissa’s back had been to the door, but she jerked around and now her eyes were riveted on her brother’s face. Joshua saw the sorrow in them and knew it was for him. Nathan had evidently been the one reading from the Bible when they heard Joshua’s footsteps on the porch. He shot a quick glance in Joshua’s direction, then suddenly became intensely interested in the page before him. His mother’s head came up slowly, first to search Joshua’s face and then, almost imperceptibly, turning enough to watch her husband, the anxiety etching deep lines around the corners of her mouth.

But it was to his father that Joshua’s eyes were drawn, pulled by the power of the dark eyes boring into him. Benjamin Steed did not move, not even so much as the flicker of an eyelid, but Joshua could feel the anger seething just below the stone-cold exterior. He took another quick breath. It was going to be worse than he thought.

He walked over and sat down next to his mother. “Mama, I’m sorry I didn’t come home last night. I was with some friends. I didn’t realize it was as late as it was. We fell asleep and—”

Benjamin Steed came straight out of his chair. “Friends?” he asked incredulously. “That wouldn’t be the Murdock boys, would it?”

Mary Ann took a quick breath. “Becca, you and Matthew go outside and feed the chickens.”

Rebecca, frightened by what was erupting around her, stood quickly, but Matthew started to protest. One look from his father silenced the boy instantly. They hurried out and Benjamin went to the door, shutting it hard behind them. He whirled, his eyes blazing. But if he had expected it to somehow cow Joshua it didn’t work, for Joshua had dropped his eyes and was looking at his hands.

“Well?” Benjamin demanded.

Joshua didn’t look up. “Well what?”

“Look at me!” his father thundered.

Slowly, Joshua raised his head. “Well, what?” he repeated, no longer trying to hide the weariness in his voice.

“I asked you if you thought those two rum-soaked pieces of river trash were your friends.”

“You don’t even know the Murdock boys,” Joshua shot back. “How can you say what they are?”

“Benjamin,” Mary Ann broke in, both her eyes and her voice pleading with him, “we can talk this out without shouting.”

Benjamin threw her a withering glance and stalked back over to where the others sat. He leaned across the table to face Joshua. “I may not know them, but every person in Palmyra Village knows of ‘em. They’re tavern rats. Riffraff that good folks stay clear of.”

For a moment Joshua stared at the flaring nostrils and clenched teeth, almost feeling his father’s hot breath on him. Then something inside him snapped. Reasoning with this man was impossible. And there was no pleasing him. No matter how hard he tried. He had learned that again and again. He straightened slowly, squaring his shoulders, the anger in him suddenly hard and cold. He was tired of being treated like the slop they fed the hogs.

He stood, bringing his face to within inches of his father’s. “I guess you would recognize tavern riffraff, Pa,” he said quietly. “After all, we only had to wait an hour while you and your
friends
”
—
he spat out the word with heavy sarcasm—”lifted a mug or two of your own.”

Mary Ann jerked up, her eyes shocked. “Joshua!”

Melissa and Nathan were likewise stunned.

Benjamin leaned even closer, his voice dropping to barely a whisper. “What did you say?”

Even Joshua realized he had gone further than he had intended. He straightened, turning away. “Sorry,” he muttered. “But they’re my friends. We had a few drinks together, that’s all.”

Benjamin stared at his back, his chest rising and falling. Finally he turned to Mary Ann and threw up his hands in disgust. “And that’s it. With that weak apology we’re supposed to forget it? Let it all pass? This lovesick calf gets his feelings bruised because a little snippet named Lydia McBride won’t give him the time of day and we’re supposed to overlook it all.”

Joshua whirled, first to glare at his father, then at Melissa. She shook her head quickly, her eyes pleading, but the damage had been done. He turned away, starting for the stairs. “You leave Lydia McBride out of this,” he said darkly.

“Lydia McBride is the spoiled daughter of a high-minded storekeeper who thinks farmers like us are little better than stray livestock. If you think for one minute you can waltz in there and impress her with your patched-up trousers and manure-covered boots, then you’re even a bigger fool than I thought.”

Joshua’s mother jerked around to face her husband. “Benjamin Steed! That was uncalled for.”

He barely glanced at her. “You stay out of this, Mother! Joshua’s being a fool and it’s time somebody told him so.”

Joshua turned slowly, his fists clenching and unclenching. Anger rose in his throat like a surge of bile. He took two steps toward his father. “I told you to leave Lydia McBride out of this.”

Nathan leaped to his feet and jumped between Joshua and his father. He grabbed Joshua’s arms. “It ain’t true, Josh. Pa didn’t mean it.” He swung around to face his father. “Lydia McBride isn’t the issue, Pa. Last night is the issue.”

With equal swiftness, Melissa rose and moved to face her father. She reached out and touched his arm. “Papa,” she said softly. She had not used that form of address with him since she had been twelve. “Papa, Papa,” she pleaded.

Finally he pulled his eyes away from Joshua and looked down at her.

“Maybe Joshua did have too much to drink last night. And he was wrong not to let us know where he was. But can’t we talk it out?”

Mary Ann jumped on that. “Melissa’s right, Ben,” she said. “Last night is the issue. Now, let’s sit down and deal with the issue.”

Joshua only half listened as the rest of his family stood as buffer between him and his father. Manure on his boots? No one was more keenly aware of the gap between himself and Lydia than he was. Every time he was around her he felt like an oafish teenage boy hanging around trying to get a glimpse of the royal family. His father’s words came too close to the hard-edged truth, and they cut deep. Oddly, what hit him the hardest was the sudden knowledge that there would be no asking for a chance to go to the Johnson farm on Wednesday. He turned and walked to the fireplace, the disappointment as bitter as milkweed in his mouth.

Joshua’s father swung around to follow him, and Joshua knew his family had lost.

“You want to talk about the issue?” he said, his voice trembling with indignation. “All right. The issue is
not
whether Joshua came home last night. He’s a man now, or supposed to be”—it was flung out with open contempt—”and able to take care of himself.” He glared at Nathan and Melissa, his expression daring them to disagree. “Nor is the issue that he shamed his family in front of people from three different townships.”

Joshua snorted in disgust. “What do you—”

But his father rode over him, his voice rapidly raising in both pitch and volume now. “We won’t even mention how this son of mine talks to me like I was some kind of mongrel dog or something.”

“Pa—,” Nathan started, but Benjamin whirled on him, cutting him off.

“Stay out of this, Nathan. Your mother wants to talk about the issues. Well, that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

“Whatever you say, Pa,” Joshua said, forcing boredom into his voice, knowing it would further infuriate him, and suddenly wanting to do just that. He wanted to cut, to jab back as hard and as painfully as his father was striking at him. “Why don’t you tell us, Pa. What is the issue here?”

His father’s face was flushed now, a deep, mottled, angry red. “The issue is, you chose to be with trash, and now people are starting to wonder if Joshua Steed is trash too.”

Now it was Joshua’s turn to be incredulous. He threw up his hands and gave a hoot of derisive laughter. “You think that bothers me? Let them think what they want.”

“Well, it better bother you!” Benjamin roared. “You don’t walk barefoot through a corral without a whole lot of stink sticking to you.”

“You don’t give one hoot about what people think about me,” Joshua shot back, now shouting as well. “I’ll tell you what’s bothering you. You’re afraid if Joshua Steed stinks, someone might think his almighty righteous father stinks too! That’s the real issue here.”

Benjamin’s eyes narrowed and he stepped forward. “You watch that smart mouth of yours, boy.”

Joshua leaped forward and crashed a fist down against the table, causing his mother and Melissa to jump. He dropped his voice to a menacing hiss. “No, Pa. Let’s have it out. Let’s get down to the real issues here.”

His reaction startled his father into momentary silence, and throwing all restraint to the devil, Joshua pressed in. “You’re so worried about what people think of us Steeds, maybe you’d better be thinking about firing them Smith boys you hired.”

The change of direction caught everyone by surprise. His mother’s head jerked up. Nathan swung around and stared at Joshua in shock. Melissa too was staring, baffled by the unexpected direction the argument had just taken. Even his father rocked back a little. “The Smith boys?” he echoed.

“Yeah, the Smith boys. Particularly Joseph.” He shook his head. “You’re so worried about the Murdock boys. Well, at least they ain’t goin’ around sayin’ they’ve seen God and angels.”

Nathan shot his mother a quick look. She met it, then shook her head quickly.

“What are you talking about?” his father demanded, clearly caught off balance by Joshua’s offensive.

“Why don’t you go into town and listen to what people are saying about Joe Smith. And about you for hiring him as your helper.”

“What are they saying about Joseph?” Melissa asked, truly puzzled now.

“That he claims he saw God and the devil out in the woods near his house.”

Again, Nathan’s eyes darted to his mother. And again she shook her head quickly. Joshua noted the interchange and was momentarily puzzled by it. But his father was still staring at him, so he forgot it and pressed his advantage. “He also claims an angel brought him a gold Bible. It’s buried in a hill somewhere. He’s going to translate it and save the world.”

“Joshua,” his mother said quietly, “the Steeds don’t pay no mind to idle gossip, and I think it’s shameful you’d use it against Joseph and Hyrum.”

He turned to his mother. “Is it idle gossip, Ma?” He knew he was pushing this further than he had intended, but it had deflected the attention away from him and Lydia, and his father was now suddenly on the defensive.

“Joseph and Hyrum are good men,” Nathan broke in.

“Then why won’t they answer any questions about this whole thing when we ask them? You were there, Nathan. I asked them twice and all I got was the smoothest runaround you ever seen.” He swung back to his father. “And people are starting to say Benjamin Steed must be believing all that stuff or else why is Joseph out here all the time.”

“Who I hire is my business and—”

“Oh, no, Pa,” Joshua shot back. “You’re worried about stink. Well, Joseph Smith and all these wild ideas about angels and his gold Bible make him stink to high heaven. You don’t care about that, then you’d better stop caring who I choose as my friends.”

Somewhere, far back in some corner of his mind, the ridiculousness of the situation hit Joshua. He was not really taken with Will Murdock and his brother. They were loud and dirty, coarse in both language and demeanor. But that was neither here nor there. He wasn’t about to let this bullheaded, narrow-minded man run his life any longer. He let his voice drop to a hoarse whisper. “Pa, you understand one thing. I’m a man now. I decide who my friends are and who they are not. I don’t need your help.” He lifted his chin in defiance. “And I don’t need your permission.”

Benjamin Steed leaned forward slowly, his eyes baleful and dark with fury, and Joshua felt a sudden prickle of fear. “Now you listen to me, mister,” he said, his voice low and ugly, as full of menace as Joshua could ever recollect hearing. “As long as you live in this house and eat at this table, you need my permission to blow your nose! And if you don’t like that, then maybe it’s time you just find out what kind of man you really are.”