The Work and the Glory (291 page)

And then, pulling heavily on Joseph’s hand, Benjamin sat up.

Joshua was gaping, too stunned to believe what his eyes had just seen. Mary Ann gave one great sob and rushed to the bed, dropping to her knees and throwing her arms around her husband. Nathan looked at Matthew, whose eyes were like two great pewter plates. They both just shook their heads in wonder.

All business, Joseph stood up. “He’s very weak,” he said to Mary Ann. “Water will help. Perhaps a little food. But not too much for now.” He turned back to Benjamin. “I want to see the rest of your family. We’ll be back in a few minutes.” There was that wonderful, flashing smile again, teasing Benjamin. “It would probably be better if you changed out of your nightshirt.” He leaned over and, in a conspiratorial whisper, added, “You know how much Brother Taylor likes a well-dressed man.”

Joseph touched Mary Ann’s shoulder. “We’ll be back. He’ll be fine now.”

With tears streaming down her face, she rose and faced Joseph. She reached out and took his hands. “Thank you, Joseph. Thank you.”

Serious now, he shook his head. “Don’t thank me, Mother Steed. You know as well as anyone where the thanks belong.”

“Yes,” she whispered.

Joseph swung around and started to the door. He stopped in front of Joshua, who was still staring at him with his mouth open and his eyes a little dazed. “We’d be pleased to have your company as we visit the rest of your family, Joshua.”

At Jessica’s house, sickness had taken a double toll. Not only had it swept through the seven of them with varying severity, but the news of the passing of Nancy McIntire had devastated Jenny and Kathryn mentally and emotionally as well. Joseph went through the children, starting with the baby, laying his hands on them and blessing them one by one. Luke and Mark were next, followed by Rachel. When he blessed Jenny and Kathryn, there was an added measure of comfort given and promises of a future reuniting of mother and daughters.

Surprisingly, however, Joseph didn’t lay his hands on Jessica, as he did the others. He simply went to her bedside and knelt down beside it. Her face was covered with a sheen of sweat, but she had the blankets pulled up around her chin and was shivering slightly. Joseph reached out and took her left hand. He turned it over. The scar from where the mobber’s ball had passed through the door and then through her hand was a round circle of purple and red. He touched it with the tip of his finger. “Sister Jessica,” he said quietly, “do you remember what I said to you that day you and the others came to visit, the day after I arrived in Quincy?”

She started to shake her head no, then remembrance came and she quickly nodded. “You said the Lord hasn’t forgotten me.”

“That’s right. He is aware of your sacrifice. All will be well with you.”

“Thank you.”

He looked at her in amazement. “Do you believe me so easily?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Oh, that all had such faith,” he murmured. “No wonder the Lord loves you!”

Derek had put the fever behind him four days before. Rebecca was nearly recovered from her bout of it as well. And baby Christopher had mercifully been spared any signs of the ague. His only discomfort came when the sickness reduced Rebecca’s milk supply and they had to look elsewhere for someone to nurse him. Seeing that things were not so desperate there, Joseph stayed only for a few moments. As he prepared to leave, he turned to Rebecca. “Dear Sister Rebecca,” he began, “the Lord well knows what it will mean for you when your good husband accompanies the Twelve across the sea. He is very pleased that you willingly accept this sacrifice and do not try to hold your husband to your bosom. Fear not about Brother Derek’s safety. He returns to be among his people, and the work that he shall do shall be great. But when it is done, he shall return to you in safety, bearing many sheaves upon his back.”

Rebecca’s eyes shone with gratitude. She went up on tiptoe and kissed Joseph on the cheek. “Thank you, Brother Joseph.”

To Nathan’s surprise, when they reached the door of his cabin, Joseph turned, holding up one hand. “If you please, brethren, perhaps it is best if only Nathan accompanies me inside.”

They nodded and stepped back. To Joshua’s surprise, he felt sharply disappointed. He suddenly realized that watching Joseph minister to the needs of the Steed family had been fascinating. He caught himself. He had almost said in his mind,
inspiring.

The two men went inside, Nathan going first. The interior was dim, the only light coming through two small curtained windows. Lydia was in the rocking chair, Elizabeth Mary in her arms. The baby was crying softly, barely whimpering, with weak, shuddering sobs that shook her body. Nathan moved swiftly over to them. “How is she?” he asked anxiously.

Lydia shook her head. Then the movement of someone by the door caught her eye and she looked up quickly. She had seen only Nathan come in.

“It’s Brother Joseph,” Nathan explained.

“Joseph?” she echoed numbly. One hand came up and brushed at her cheek, as though there were a spot there that needed removing.

“Hello, Lydia.”

“Joseph, how good of you to come.”

“Emma sends her love and inquires after your health.” Then before she could answer, he stepped closer, peering at the baby. “May I?” he asked, holding out his arms.

Wearily, Lydia passed the baby up to him. Immediately the one-year-old began to cry in earnest again. Joseph cuddled her against his body and started to croon softly to her. Then, as he walked slowly back and forth across the room, he began to speak. “Elizabeth Mary Steed,” he intoned, “by the power of the holy priesthood of God, I take you in my arms. In the name of our Savior and Redeemer, I rebuke the affliction that has come upon you.”

The cry softened, then died to a whimper.

“You have a long life before you as a daughter of Zion. The work of the kingdom must go forward, and as part of that work, the Lord needs righteous, faithful women who will uphold his work.”

Elizabeth Mary stopped crying completely now. Lydia came to her feet, her eyes wide, staring in dumbfounded amazement.

Joseph’s voice lowered until they could barely hear him. “You are one of those chosen to be a mother in Zion, and you shall live to bring forth sons and daughters into the world. And that promise I make to you in the name of the Lord God of Israel, amen.”

Smiling now, he stepped to Lydia and handed the baby back to her. Lydia looked down at her, still not quite believing. The baby’s eyes were closed, and Lydia could feel the steadiness of her breathing.

Joseph turned to Nathan. “The other children?”

Lydia pointed. “In there, but they are all right now. They’re playing.”

“And what about you?” Joseph asked softly.

She tried to meet his gaze but couldn’t. Her jaw started to tremble ever so slightly as she fought to keep rein on her emotions. Nathan moved to her and took the baby. “Let me put Elizabeth Mary down.”

Lydia did not protest. She handed her to him, then returned to her rocking chair. She sat down and began to rock slowly back and forth, her eyes focused on a spot somewhere out in front of her.

Joseph took a stool from beneath the table and set it down in front of her. “And what about you, Lydia?” he asked again, even more gently than before.

Her head came up slowly, and now instead of tears, there was just pure anguish. “If you had come sooner, you could have saved him, couldn’t you? Like you just did for Elizabeth Mary. You could have healed little Nathan too.” It was a pleading cry for understanding, for some kind of solace.

Joseph shook his head wearily. “It is not me that saves a person, Lydia, it’s—”

“If that’s true, then why didn’t God save my child? Why didn’t he send you here sooner?” She buried her face in her hands and began to weep silently. Nathan had come back out and now stood watching the two of them. He seemed to sense that it was better that he stay back.

“I don’t know,” Joseph answered in honest simplicity. “I don’t know why he spares one and takes another.”

“Is it because I haven’t been faithful enough? Has Nathan not given enough to the Lord? What did we do wrong that this should happen to our son?”

“Tragedies aren’t always caused by our sins.” He leaned forward, speaking in great earnest now. “Lydia, the Lord has other purposes in life besides punishment. He takes many away in infancy, that they may escape the envy of man and the sorrows and evils of this present world. They were too pure, too lovely to live on earth.”

Her chin lifted and she blinked back the tears.

“Yes,” he said, glad that he had finally pierced through her sorrow. “And if that’s true—and it is!—then rightly considered, instead of mourning we have reason to rejoice. First because a child like your little Nathan is delivered from evil, and second because you shall soon have him again.”

His voice deepened and he spoke with great conviction. “All children are redeemed by the blood of Jesus Christ. They have no sin or uncleanness in them, and the moment they leave this world, they are taken to the bosom of Abraham. Think about that, Lydia. Your son is now in the bosom of Abraham. He’s in paradise. He is assured a place in the celestial kingdom. Would you call him back from that?”

She shook her head slowly. “I keep telling myself all of that, Joseph. I’m supposed to know this is true. I used to.” Now the agony made her voice heavy and twisted. “I was so sure I had a testimony. Now it seems to be slipping through my fingers like it was sand. I can’t get ahold of it anymore.”

He reached out and touched her arm briefly. “You only doubt what you don’t know, Lydia, and that is yourself.” He took a deep breath, still searching her face. “You need to find yourself. You are far stronger than you think.”

She shook her head slowly, wanting to believe but not finding it within her. Joseph reached out and patted her hand. “Don’t give up,” he said, very softly. “Keep searching.”

He stood abruptly and spoke to Nathan. “Well, Benjamin will be waiting for us. We need to cross the river.”

Lydia’s head came up with a snap now, and shame flooded over her. She hadn’t even thought to ask Nathan how his father was. She looked to Nathan. “How is—” Then it hit her what Joseph had just said. “Benjamin is going with you?”

Nathan walked over to stand beside her now. “Yes, Joseph blessed Papa.”

“But . . .”

He smiled down at her. “I know. I’ll explain everything later. But Father is fine. He’s going to live.”

As Joseph and Nathan joined the others in the yard, Joseph turned his head and looked back at the cabin. “Nathan,” he said, “I think it would be best if you stayed with your family. Your mother will need some help as well.”

“Yes.”

Then he stunned them all, but none more than Joshua. Joseph reached out and took him by the arm. “Joshua, I think it would be good if we had someone accompany your father as he goes with us. Would you be willing to do that?”

“I . . . well . . .” And then he found himself nodding. “Yes, of course. Let me go get my father. We’ll . . . we’ll be right with you.”

They took a ferryboat across the river, then headed straight for one of the old military barracks where Brigham Young lived with his family. Though Joseph had been on this side of the river before, visiting the members of the Twelve who lived here, he let John Taylor take the lead.

When Nathan had rushed back home, breathless with the news that Joseph was coming, he had told them what was happening. Joshua had been openly skeptical. It irritated him that his family looked to this man as though he were some kind of supernatural being with supernatural powers. And as for the report that Joseph was healing people everywhere, Joshua put that down as the hysterical reaction of people too long in the grips of the fever.

Then Joseph had come to Joshua’s father. This was no secondhand report. Joshua had seen it with his own eyes. He had seen Joseph bless Jessica’s two boys and seen immediate results. Nathan told him about Elizabeth Mary, and he could not disbelieve him. His skepticism was now tempered by wonder and amazement and some very deep questions. The rational part of Joshua Steed was still reeling. He followed along now, searching for some kind of logical explanation for what he was witnessing.

“Here we are,” John Taylor said, and they turned in at one of the old barracks buildings.

Joshua didn’t know Brigham Young. He had heard his family talk a lot about him, about his leadership when Joseph was in Liberty Jail. As a teamster who knew what it took to move freight and people, Joshua was impressed with the reports of what Brigham had done to organize the exodus from Missouri.

As they moved up to the building, Joseph knocked firmly. A moment later, a woman, heavy with child, opened the door. “Sister Mary Ann,” Joseph exclaimed, “how good to see you again.”

She blinked against the brightness of the sunlight. “Brother Joseph?”

“Indeed!” he boomed cheerfully. “We understand you have a sick husband.”

“Why, yes, he’s—”

“Joseph? Is that you?”

Brigham’s wife stepped back. “Come in,” she said. Then turning, she called back inside. “Brigham, it’s Brother Joseph.”

A man on the bed half raised himself. He was squinting at the light. “Brother Joseph,” he said, weakly, but eager. “What brings you here?”

“It is a day of God’s power,” Joseph replied. “We are going about healing the sick, and we wish you to be with us.”

Brigham fell back a little. “But I myself am sick. I have not been able to leave my bed for two days now.”

“Then it is time,” Joseph said cheerfully. Then instantly, in that same powerful voice he had used with Benjamin, he commanded, “Brigham Young, in the name of the Lord, I command you to leave that bed and to be healed of your illness. Come with us.”

Joshua felt his pulse start to race. He stepped sideways, so he could see the man before them more clearly. Brigham lay there, momentarily stunned by the Prophet’s call. Then he threw back the covers, swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and sat up. His wife gave a little cry and one hand flew to her mouth.

“Give me just a moment,” Brigham said. “I shall need a shirt.”

The company soon moved on to Wilford Woodruff’s place. Wilford was one of the few who thus far had escaped the illness. He responded immediately to Joseph’s request that he accompany them. As they strode down the walk from Wilford’s place, Joseph looked at Brigham Young. “Are there any that need our help here in Montrose?”