The Work and the Glory (383 page)

“Hurry, Kathryn!”

She nodded and darted away.

“Mama. I scared!” Johnny wiggled out of Rachel’s arms and hurled himself at his mother’s legs.

She scooped him up. “Under the buckboard. Luke, put the basket in the wagon. Keep the quilt with us so it doesn’t get wet.”

Even as she spoke the first huge raindrops came slicing out of the sky at a forty-five-degree angle. One drop hit Jessica’s arm, stinging like a pebble flung from a boy’s slingshot. “Quickly now,” she called. “Here it comes.”

As Rachel and the two older boys dived beneath the small wagon, there was another flash, followed almost instantly by a shattering blast of sound. The air shook and the wagon rattled. Jessica let out an involuntary cry. Luke and Mark, who were trying to be brave, grabbed each other, hollering. Little Johnny screamed and clapped his hands over his ears. Jessica shook her head, momentarily stunned. She lowered Johnny to the ground and gave him a shove. “Under the wagon, Johnny. Quick.”

And then it was as though that last shaft of lighting had punched upward, piercing the underbelly of some massive celestial reservoir. In one instant the huge raindrops came pelting downward, melded into a shimmering sheet, torrents so heavy that the trees lining the creek disappeared as though in a fog. With a cry of dismay, Jessica rolled beneath the wagon, already soaked clear through her clothing.

She raised her head, pawing at the hair plastered across her eyes, her head turning back and forth, trying to see through the curtain of rain that pounded down around them on all four sides now. “Kathryn!” She screamed it out. She couldn’t see her. She grabbed at the hem of her dress and wiped her eyes. “Kathryn! Forget the horse! Come back.”

“There she is, Mama!”

Jessica turned to look where Rachel was pointing. For a moment she saw nothing; then she saw the huddled figure, half-hidden in the grass that undulated like the roiling sea. She was forty or fifty yards away.

“
Kathryn!
”

Jessica saw her head turn. She seemed almost confused. Rain nearly obscured her. Then it cleared again. Jessica waved frantically at her. “Come back! Come back!”

There was a nod, and then she was up and running, head down, one hand up to shield her eyes from the downpour. Jessica peered at her more closely. She was carrying something in her other hand. It bounced and danced crazily alongside her body.

As Kathryn cut her distance to the wagon in half, she suddenly stopped. Straightening, she held up whatever it was she was carrying. She shouted something at Jessica.

“What?” Jessica cupped her hands to make herself heard above the roar of the wind and the pounding of the rain on the wood above her head.

“The horse is gone!”

And then Jessica saw what it was Kathryn was holding. She had the hobbles—two bands of iron held together by a short chain. She held them high in the air, waving them back and forth. Both bands were unclasped. And then Jessica knew what had happened. She wasn’t used to hobbles, wasn’t sure exactly how the fasteners went into the clasps to lock the bands fast around the shank of each front leg. Solomon had showed her how to do it, but Susie kept moving away from her, anxious to graze on the thick grass. It was far more difficult than Solomon had said it would be. Now she knew she hadn’t done it right.

“It’s all right, Kathryn,” she shouted back. “Come on!”

Kathryn started moving again, letting the hobbles drop to her side. The wind was howling, tearing at her dress even though it was heavy with wetness.

When the bolt of lightning struck, it hit the ground not twenty feet off to Kathryn’s right.

Blinding! Deafening! Shattering! Those were the words that were normally used to describe such a phenomenon, but none of those were even marginally adequate for the force of the strike. Jessica had been up on all fours as she shouted at Kathryn, the top of her head just touching the underside of the buckboard’s bed. The concussion slammed her backwards, so that she cracked her head hard against the rear axle. With a cry of pain, she rolled on the ground, knocked momentarily senseless. Dimly, as if in a different room, she was aware that Johnny had bounced away from her like a small ball. Now he was screaming hysterically. Someone was sobbing. She turned her head, and even as she saw Rachel clinging to Luke and Mark, she winced with pain. She reached up and touched the side of her head. When she brought her hand back down, the fingers were bright red. She stared at them, not comprehending.

Gradually, her head and vision began to clear and she realized the blow had split open the scalp. Reaching up again, this time more gingerly, she probed. It wasn’t that bad. Less than an inch long. And while it was bleeding freely, it wasn’t that deep.

And then in a flash, almost as stunning as the lightning, memory returned. She jerked around wildly. “Kathryn!”

Where Kathryn had been there was nothing, just the blinding rain and smoke. The smoke startled her, and then she saw that there was a large black ring where the grass was scorched and still smoking even as the rain extinguished any flames. Scrambling like a crab, she was out from beneath the buckboard and hobbling across the meadow, as if staying in a crouch would somehow make her a smaller target for another strike.

A hundred yards behind her, the lightning hit in the tree line, and the earth trembled beneath her. There was a sharp tearing sound as the top half of a cottonwood tree sheared off and crashed to the ground.

“Mama!”

Jessica instinctively ducked, slowing only long enough to shout back over her shoulder. “Stay there!”

And then she saw Kathryn. She was flat on her back, sprawled grotesquely on the scorched earth like a child’s doll thrown down in a fit of anger. Her arms were flung out above her head, one leg twisted crazily beneath her. Her shoes were gone. That registered oddly in Jessica’s mind. She had been wearing shoes, but now they were gone. And then she saw one of them a short distance away, black, twisted, and still smoking.

“Kathryn!” She ran to her and dropped to her knees in the muddy soil, feeling the rain slashing at her back. “Kathryn!” She put her arms beneath the girl’s shoulders and lifted her up. There was a soft moan, then silence.

“Oh, Lord, help me!” Jessica sobbed. She straightened Kathryn’s arms and legs, then tried to lift her. She was dead weight. Dazed and half in shock herself, Jessica found it beyond her. Frantic now, blood streaming down one cheek, crying, sobbing, cursing the storm, cringing down against another possible strike, Jessica got beneath Kathryn’s shoulders and tried to drag her back toward the buckboard. But it was too much. Kathryn didn’t budge.

“I’ll help you, Mama!” Luke was suddenly by her side, taking part of the load from her.

“No, Luke! Go back.”

He ignored her, pulling hard, and grunting with the effort. And then Rachel and Mark were there too, their faces filled with terror, but determined to help. Mark clutched a handful of dress and pulled. Rachel grabbed one of Kathryn’s hands. It was enough. Kathryn’s body moved, and in a stumbling, halting scramble, they dragged the still form back to their makeshift shelter.

Beneath the buckboard, Johnny huddled in a tight ball, his face white, watching his family coming back to him, too terrified now for crying. Jessica reached out and touched his face. “It’s all right, Johnny. Mama’s safe now. It’s all right.”

And then she left the task of comforting John to Rachel. Ignoring the warm stickiness on the side of her head, she sat down beside Kathryn and gathered her up in her arms. “Oh, Kathryn,” she whispered. “My dear Kathryn.”

Solomon was the first to see the buckboard. He went up in the stirrups, staring for a moment, then shouted it out. “There!”

The men were scattered in a line, stretching clear to the trees. Some were on the other side of the creek, beyond the trees and out of sight. Solomon lifted his rifle and fired off a single shot, then spurred his horse.

At the sound of the shot, Jessica jerked up with a start, looking around wildly. The children came awake with a cry of alarm. Johnny started to wail almost instantly. On Jessica’s lap, Kathryn didn’t stir. And then Luke was out from beneath the buckboard and shouting, jumping up and down. “It’s Solomon, Mama! They found us.”

Carefully, letting Kathryn’s head lower to the grass, Jessica crawled out and stood up beside her son. With a gasp, she felt her knees buckle, and she groped blindly for the side of the buckboard to steady herself. Her body was numb from sitting in a cramped position for almost three hours now, and the circulation in her legs had been cut off. But tears were streaming down her face as the horseman came thundering toward her. She laid a hand on her son’s shoulder. “I told you Susie would go home. I told you they would come. I told you.”

Kathryn McIntire opened her eyes, but it was one of the hardest things she had ever done in her life. The only thing to do was to will them open with the sheer power of her mind. Never had she concentrated with such intensity, but gradually it had its effect. The lids slowly rose and light flooded her consciousness.

“Oh, look! She’s awake! She’s awake! Quick, Rachel. Get your mother.”

Far away, and as though coming through a thick wall, she heard the muffled cries and saw shadows pass before her eyes. Then a dark shape loomed over her, bending low to peer into her eyes.

“Kathryn? Can you hear me?”

She studied the face in front of her, which was clearing now and coming into better focus. She knew that face. She knew it and felt strangely comforted that it was there. For what seemed like minutes, she fought to send the questions penetrating through thickness that filled the chambers of her mind.
Who is that? How do I know her? I do know her, I know I do. But how?
But then another shape appeared, blocking out most of the light, and Kathryn forgot to wait for the answers.

“Kathryn?”

It was a different voice now. She made her eyes move slightly to the left.
Oh! I know this face too.
It was older, more wise. And filled with love. She could see that in the eyes and on the face. The love was so evident that Kathryn felt like she could reach out and stroke it with the tips of her fingers. Again, though she wasn’t sure exactly why, she felt at peace.

“Kathryn, can you hear me?”

Yes.
But somewhere she realized she had not moved her lips.

She felt pressure on her hand, which was somewhere below her.

“Can you feel that?”

Yes.

“Kathryn, it’s Jessica. If you can hear me, move your fingers.”

Jessica! Of course.
She commanded her fingers to move. There was the slightest response.

“She can hear me!” Jessica’s eyes were filled with sudden tears.

It’s all right. I can hear you. Don’t cry.

The other face moved closer. The wide blue eyes were filled with tears too. Everyone here seemed to be crying. “Kathryn. If you can understand us, blink your eyes.”

That she could do and she did. Twice.

The lips moved in a soft whisper. “Oh, dear Lord, she
can
hear us.”

And then, like a creeping dawn, understanding returned. “Jennifer?” she said through lips that felt cracked and parched.

There was a racking sob. “Yes, Kathryn. I’m here.”

The second face disappeared now. But the voice was sharp with excitement. “Matthew. She’s awake. Go quick. Fetch Doctor Johnson. Tell him she’s awake.”

Again Kathryn felt pressure on her hand. “It’s me, Kathryn. It’s Jenny.”

She tried to shake her head, recognizing the sprinkling of freckles across the face in front of her.
Not Jenny. Jennifer. There’s another Jenny now.
She felt a surge of joy that she remembered that.
Jennifer Jo.
She forced her lips to form the words and heard her own hoarse whisper as though from across the room.

“Oh, yes,” Jennifer Jo exclaimed. “Yes!”

“What . . . Where am I? Why are
you
here?”

“You’re in Nauvoo now, Kathryn. You’re staying with Matthew and me.”

“Nauvoo?”

Now Jessica was back, bending over her, grasping both of her hands. “You were struck by lightning, Kathryn. Three days ago. You’ve been unconscious. Solomon and I brought you here. There are doctors here. We’re getting one of them right now.” She took her hand. “Tell me if you can feel this.” She squeezed hard.

“Yes.”

“Can you move your fingers?”

After what seemed like an eternity, Kathryn felt the command go down to her hands. There was a tiny movement in one finger.

“Wonderful! Can you move your hand?”

Concentrating hard now, Kathryn tried to raise her hand and do a little wave, let them know that everything was going to be all right.

“Can you move your hand at all, Kathryn?”

She tried again, fighting in her mind to make it happen. Sudden, hot tears spilled over and trickled down her cheeks. “I can’t!”

The covers were pulled back from her legs and her nightgown was lifted slightly. Jessica rubbed her toes. “Can you feel this?”

“Yes.”

Jessica didn’t have to ask. More fiercely than anything she had tried since awakening, Kathryn willed her toes to wiggle back and forth. Nothing! The burning in her eyes was so intense she had to close them. “I can’t!” she gasped.

“It’s all right,” Jennifer Jo said, leaning down to lay her cheek alongside her sister’s. “You’re awake, Kathryn. That’s all that matters for right now.”

She tried to move her arm. Nothing. Lift her leg. Nothing. “I can’t move,” Kathryn said, wanting to scream it out, wanting to throw her arms around her sister and cling to her with frantic desperation. But all she could do was croak it out as the hot tears burned her cheeks. “I can’t move, Jenny. I can’t move.”

Chapter Notes

On 10 April 1842, two days following the general conference, Joseph preached at a grove near the temple site. In his history he described his address thus: “I preached in the Grove, and pronounced a curse upon all adulterers, and fornicators, and unvirtuous persons, and those who have made use of my name to carry on their iniquitous designs.” Wilford Woodruff, renowned for his meticulously kept journal, wrote “Joseph the Seer arose in the power of God; reproved and rebuked wickedness before the people, in the name of the Lord God.” (
HC
4:587-88.) It was Elder Woodruff who gave us a detailed report of the words Joseph spoke that day.