The Work and the Glory (203 page)

“Amen!” Matthew immediately reached for the plate of ham and eggs, winning a quick look from his mother. When he saw it, he was immediately sheepish. He handed the plate across the table to Rebecca. “Ladies first,” he said gallantly.

Rebecca laughed and pushed it back. “Go ahead. I would hate to see you faint away before the food gets to you.”

“Good,” Matthew said, pulling four eggs and several slices of ham onto his plate. Then he carved out a huge chunk of corn bread with his fork, steadying the steaming portion quickly with his hand to get it back to his plate.

Mary Ann just shook her head. “I hope it is a bounteous harvest,” she said ruefully to Benjamin. “Otherwise we won’t have enough to feed this boy through November.”

Benjamin just smiled, remembering when Joshua and Nathan had gone through the same cycle of voraciousness. “Good thing we get a little work out of him, or we couldn’t afford to feed him.”

“Speaking of work,” Matthew said between mouthfuls, “do you think we can start cutting the wheat this week? Brother Brigham says I can take whatever time I need to help you.”

Benjamin shook his head. “No, not this week. Maybe early next week.”

“How about if we—”

But Matthew didn’t finish. There was a sharp knock on the door. Benjamin looked at Mary Ann in surprise. It was barely seven o’clock in the morning. He got up and went to the door, opened it, then stepped back. “Well, Brother Joseph. Brother Hyrum. Good morning.”

“Good morning, Brother Benjamin,” Joseph said. He looked past him. “Morning, Sister Steed. Rebecca. Matthew. How are all of you this morning?”

“Fine,” Mary Ann responded, standing now. “We’re just sitting down to breakfast. Will you join us?”

Joseph smiled briefly, shaking his head. “Thank you anyway, Mary Ann, but we’ve already eaten.” He turned back to Benjamin, his face sobering. “Brother Ben, we need your help.”

“All right.”

“Do you still have your rifle?”

There was a sharp intake of breath from Mary Ann.

“Yes.” Benjamin was watching the Prophet very closely now.

Hyrum stepped forward to stand beside his brother. “We have received some bad news. From Di-Ahman.”

Instantly Rebecca was on her feet, her face tight.

“A rider, Vinson Knight, came in about half an hour ago,” Joseph went on. “Some of our brethren went to Gallatin yesterday to vote.”

“In spite of the warning they received?” Matthew blurted.

“Yes,” Joseph said grimly. “We have a right to exercise our franchise. They didn’t want trouble, so they went without arms.” He stopped, the worry heavy in his eyes.

“And?” Benjamin prompted.

“There was a mob waiting,” Hyrum said softly. “Trouble broke out.”

Rebecca came forward in three quick steps. “Derek?” she whispered. “Did Derek go with them?”

Joseph hesitated, then finally bobbed his head once. “I knew that would be your first question.” The blue eyes clouded momentarily. “Vinson says Derek went with them.”

A hand flew to her mouth.

Mary Ann came quickly to her and put an arm around her. “How bad?” Mary Ann asked Joseph.

Joseph sighed, obviously reluctant to share what he knew. “The report is sketchy right now. But not good.”

“How bad?” Benjamin demanded, watching his daughter closely now.

Hyrum also had an eye fixed on Rebecca. He looked at Joseph once, then back to Benjamin, avoiding Rebecca’s burning stare. “Two or three dead,” he said slowly.

Rebecca gasped, then swayed as her knees gave way a little. Mary Ann steadied her, holding her tightly.

Hyrum rushed on. “We don’t know who they are as yet. The mob has refused to let our people get the bodies for burial.”

Joseph turned to Benjamin. “Hyrum, Sidney, and I are leading a group of men.” He took a quick breath and let it out again. “Brother Knight says the people of Daviess County are arming themselves to drive our people right out of the county. We’re going north to give assistance. We’ve already stopped at Nathan’s. He’ll be going.”

“I want to go too, Pa,” Matthew said.

“No!” Mary Ann cried.

Matthew swung around. “It’s not just Rebecca who cares about Derek.”

Benjamin had turned now too.

“Mother”—Matthew was pleading now—“this is Derek and Peter. They are my friends. I want to help.”

Mary Ann looked to Benjamin, her eyes imploring him to sustain her on this one. Benjamin searched her face, then turned to look at his youngest son, now almost a full head taller than his mother. “He’s a man now, Mary Ann,” he said simply.

Her lip started to quiver and her head dropped. Joseph walked to her. “It’ll be all right, Sister Steed,” he said with great solemnity. “We shall see that no harm comes to Matthew.” Half turning, he reached out and laid a hand on Rebecca’s arm. She was weeping quietly now. “It will be all right!” he said, more firmly now. “You must have faith.”

Then he stepped back and turned to Benjamin. “We’re gathering at the public square. If you bring your horse, we’ll have a second mount for Matthew.”

“We’ll be there in five minutes,” Benjamin said.

* * *

Shoal Creek lay about a half mile north of Far West. It was not a large stream, no more than four or five feet across in most places. It flowed eastward in a meandering path, through Haun’s Mill twelve miles to the east, and eventually into the Grand River. There was not a lot of timber along its bank, but enough trees and brush to provide a place of privacy.

It was to those thickets that Rebecca came as the sun began to break through the clouds and climb toward its zenith on this August morning. She pushed her way through a patch of river birch and wild raspberry and found a small clearing beneath a group of medium-size cottonwood trees.

She looked around to make sure she was alone; then, brushing at the corners of her eyes, she dropped to her knees and bowed her head.

It was almost a half hour before she came out of the trees and started back up the gentle rise to her father’s cabin, head bowed, walking slowly.

* * *

“Mama! Mama!”

The voice carried clearly all the way through the house. Caroline looked up from her task of kneading a large clump of bread dough. Savannah, sitting on the floor playing with a set of blocks Joshua had bought for her, was jabbering away happily. At the sound, she looked up. “Livvy?”

“Yes,” Caroline said, wiping the flour from her hands onto her apron. “It’s Olivia.”

The front door burst open and Olivia came tearing through the house. “Mama!”

“We’re back in the kitchen,” Caroline called.

Olivia came sliding in, her face flushed, her chest rising and falling. “Mama, Papa’s back.”

Caroline’s head came up. “He is?”

“Yes, he and Will. The steamboat got in early this morning. They’re at the freight yard.”

Savannah pushed to her feet. “Papa?”

Olivia picked her up, lifting her above her head so she looked down into Olivia’s face. “Yes, Savannah, Papa’s home. Papa’s home.”

“Wanna see Papa,” Savannah said matter-of-factly.

Caroline started to untie her apron, feeling a rush of excitement. Joshua and Will had left for St. Louis on the twentieth of July. That was better than two weeks ago. She always hated it when Joshua was gone on these extensive trips, but this was particularly bad, for Will had gone with him.

“Wanna see Papa,” Savannah repeated, more forcefully.

“You and Mama both, Savannah,” Caroline said. “The bread can wait.”

* * *

“What do you think?” Joshua said. He had Savannah in one arm, but he put the other one around Caroline’s waist and pulled her against him. He was grinning like a kid who had just discovered he could tie a bow in his own bootlaces for the first time.

Caroline hugged him, looking up at the large crate that sat in the wagon. “I think it’s wonderful, Joshua. The perfect gift. Your father is going to be very pleased.”

“I think so too,” he said, not trying to hide his pride. “So, get your things. We’ve got to get going.”

For a moment it didn’t register, then Caroline’s head came around. “What?”

“If we get started right away and push hard, we can make it by tomorrow night.”

“Today? Joshua, I’m not ready to leave. I . . . There’s food to get. Clothes to pack. I’ll have to wash—”

He put a finger to her lips, cutting her off. “Did you get your part of the buying done?”

“Yes. Olivia and I have bought everything, but . . . the roads, they’re going to be a mess.”

He gave her an incredulous look. “You think muddy roads are a threat to a man who makes his living hauling freight? Besides, the weather is clearing. They’ll be drying up fast.”

“Mama,” Will jumped in, siding with his father, “if we don’t get Grandpa’s present up there soon, it will be too late for this year.”

“Oh, yes, Mama,” Olivia cried, “let’s go. I want to see Grandma and Grandpa again.”

Now it was Savannah’s head that came around. “Gampa?” she said, looking around.

Joshua chuckled. “Do you want to go see Gamma and Gampa?”

“Yes. Wanna see Gampa.”

“Then it’s unanimous,” Joshua declared. “Cornwell will have a fit, but we’ll only stay a day or two. And we’ll help you get ready, won’t we kids?”

Will and Olivia answered in a single chorus. “Yes!”

Joshua took both her hands, his eyes half pleading now. “What do you say?”

Caroline knew she had lost. And she didn’t resent it. His excitement was infectious. She threw up her hands in surrender. “All right, today it is.”

* * *

There were about twenty armed men who left Far West with Joseph and Hyrum at their head. As they moved north, their numbers swelled as brethren living in isolated homesites between Far West and Di-Ahman joined them. Word of the disaster had spread rapidly, and there was much concern among these Saints who lived out and away from everyone else. The whole countryside was in an uproar. County officials were trying to calm people. Two ministers were trying to do just the opposite. Emotions were running hot and rumors flying faster than a Missouri twister.

As they passed the various homesteads of non-Mormons, there was fear on that side as well. About a mile south of Gallatin, they approached a cluster of two or three cabins. From a distance they could see a woman out hanging wash on her line. Several children were playing here and there around her. Then there was a faint cry. One of the children was pointing in their direction. The woman stood frozen for a moment, then dropped the dress she was holding and started shouting. In moments the woman, the children, and any others who had been outside were into the cabins, and Benjamin could see the shutters slamming shut. And then, before the group of Mormon men had gone fifty more yards, a man darted out of the back of the farthest cabin and ran hard toward the small barn behind it. A moment later a horse came pounding out. The man leaned low over the horse’s neck, whipping him hard with a riding crop. He turned north and, in a moment, disappeared behind some trees.  

Benjamin felt a tightening in his chest. In five or six minutes Gallatin would have its warning. The Mormons were coming. And they were coming in numbers and they were armed. Without saying a word, Joseph jerked his head toward the east and reined his horse to the right. They would give Gallatin a wide berth.

It was midafternoon when the brethren, now nearly fifty strong, rode up the valley of Adam-ondi-Ahman, following the long bend in the Grand River. Benjamin and Matthew were up near the front, not far behind Joseph and Hyrum and Sidney Rigdon. They were tired, and now that they were on the outskirts of Di-Ahman, their vigilance relaxed a little. Several of the men were half dozing in their saddles.

Then Joseph reined in his horse, pointing. “That’s Tower Hill,” he called back over his shoulder, “and the cabin you see there, that’s Lyman Wight’s. We’re almost there.”

Matthew leaned forward eagerly. About three hundred yards ahead, a ridge from the bluffs jutted sharply out into the valley. Signs of settlement were now everywhere evident—lean-tos, tents, sod huts, a log cabin or two.

Word of their coming had evidently reached the Mormons as well, for as they rode along now, people began to stream out to greet them. Several of the men carried arms, but the sight of Joseph and Hyrum and this many of their brethren was cause for great rejoicing.

Then suddenly Matthew turned. Someone was calling their names. He searched the growing crowd.

“Matthew! Nathan! Father Steed!”

“Peter?” Matthew reached across to punch his brother’s arm. “Nathan, it’s Peter.” He craned his neck. “And Derek. It’s Derek, Pa!”

Benjamin was staring as he reined in the horse. “It
is
Derek.” The relief washed over him in a great rush. “Thank the Lord!” he breathed.

Joseph had turned in his saddle. He was smiling broadly. “This will be welcome news for Mary Ann and Rebecca.” He laughed right out loud at the thought of that. “Give those two boys my best, Benjamin. We’ll meet you at Brother Wight’s place later.”

Father and sons pulled their horses out of line and swung down as Derek and Peter hurried up to them. Matthew was to Derek in four great strides and threw his arms around him. Derek gave a little yelp and winced in pain. “Easy, lad,” he cried, pulling free and holding his arm.

Matthew was instantly contrite. Then as he stared at Derek, his eyes got wide. The arm was in a sling, and the bandage tied to Derek’s forehead was soiled and bloodstained.

Nathan’s mouth was tight. “Are you all right, Derek?”

Derek stuck out his good hand and firmly gripped Nathan’s, then Benjamin’s. “I’m fine. What a welcome sight you are.”

“What happened?” Matthew blurted.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Benjamin asked, peering at the bandage.

Peter answered for his brother. “Brother Wight thinks the bone in his arm may be cracked. But even though he took a nasty blow to his head, it’s just cut bad.” An impish grin split his face. “But I know he’s gonna be all right. He’s been snappin’ at me all afternoon. Peter, do this. Peter, fetch that. Peter, stop makin’ so much noise.”