The Work and the Glory (453 page)

He smiled easily, grateful as another question came to his mind. “So, Joshua, do you still think Sidney Rigdon will lead a significant number of Saints off with him?”

Joshua seemed momentarily taken aback. Clearly he had expected the other question. He leaned back, trying to hide his relief. A thoughtful look came across his face. “No, Nathan. You were right and I was wrong. If the people had voted last Sunday, it would be Guardian Sidney Rigdon right now. But Brigham handled it beautifully today.”

Nathan smiled briefly at Caroline, to let her know he understood her mouthed “Thank you,” then settled back to listen. He had invited Joshua onto safer ground, and Joshua had planted both feet firmly there and planned to stay there for a time.

“I don’t know how long it will take Sidney to realize that,” Joshua went on, more warmly now, “but he is through. What Brigham did today was brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. The crisis is over. You can feel it in the air. Oh, there’ll be a few dissenters, I’m sure. And you can bet there may be others who try to challenge Brigham, but no, the crisis is over.”

It was nearly ten o’clock when Joshua stepped through the front gate of Carl and Melissa’s yard and moved quietly up the walk. There was only one light on in the house, and through the open window he could see Melissa bent over some kind of sewing she was doing. She was alone in the room. There was a soft grunt of satisfaction, and he moved to the door and knocked softly. In a moment she was there, looking up in surprise at him.

He held out the book he had in his hand. “Hi,” he said. Then more sheepishly, “I’ve been going to return this book on breeding horses to Carl for almost a month now. I thought I’d better do it before I forget again.”

She laughed lightly and pulled the door open for him. “Joshua, there are two people you should never try to lie to. Caroline and me. We both know you too well.”

He stepped inside and set the book on the narrow table standing there. “Well, I
have
been meaning to bring it back.”

“I know. I’m just teasing. Come in.”

He looked toward the stairs and she laughed again. “Carl’s asleep. He’s taking a wagonload of bricks down to Yelrome early in the morning. We can talk.”

On impulse he took her in his arms and hugged her for a moment. He remembered the years of their growing up, and especially those last years when he and his father had started to act like two aging roosters trying to prove who was king of the barnyard. Always Melissa had understood the fires within him, the things that drove him so hard. “Thanks,” was all he said.

They moved back into the room where she had been sitting and sat down together on the couch. She half turned so she could see him as they talked. “Caroline wanted to come too, but she was quite tired tonight.”

“It was a long day.”

“Yes.” He was watching her closely, seeing the pain tightening the muscles around her mouth, the confusion in her eyes.

“Melissa?”

“Yes.” She only partially turned back towards him.

“We’ve always been honest with each other.”

There was a faint smile. “Well, almost always.”

His surprise was evident.

Now she chuckled. “Do you remember that day you got in so much trouble with Mama for eating her freshly baked gooseberry pie?”

“Yes.” His surprise had deepened noticeably. Then suddenly his eyebrows shot up. “That was you?” he cried.

She blushed. “Me and Emma Jean Thornton. We took it out in the barn and ate the whole thing.”

He frowned deeply. “I tried to blame it on the dog, but Mama always said the dog might lick the pie plate clean, but he wouldn’t have put it back up on the window sill.”

“That was kind of foolish, all right,” she said, her eyes warm now with the memory.

“Pa made me clean the chicken coop all by myself for that,” he growled. Then he laughed in wonder. “And that was you? All these years and you never said.”

“I’d forgotten about it until you said how we are always honest with each other.”

He nodded slowly, feeling the warmth of their friendship as well as their family love. “So, will you be honest with me now?”

“I’d rather not,” she said, any humor suddenly gone now.

“What happened there today?” he asked, ignoring her stricken look. “Did you . . . I mean, when Brigham was talking, did . . .” He blew out his breath. “Well, did you?”

She stood and went over to the chair where she had been sitting. She reached out and touched the material she had been working on. Joshua could see the thread and needle but couldn’t discern what it was she was sewing. Finally she turned around.

“I saw him, Joshua.”

He went very still. “You saw who?” he finally asked.

“I saw Joseph.”

“Melissa, I—”

“I did, Joshua. It wasn’t just my imagination. I was looking at Brigham and suddenly it was Joseph. Just as plain as when he used to speak to us.”

“It couldn’t be!” he snapped. “Melissa! Think about it. Suddenly people were crying out, pointing. It was a highly charged moment. The people wanted some kind of a sign. It was the power of suggestion. Did Caroline or Lydia tell you what they were seeing?”

Her smile was sad but filled with love. “I’ve tried all that, Joshua. I’ve told myself the same thing all day. Maybe it was my imagination. Maybe the sun was in my eyes. Maybe . . . maybe a hundred other things.”

He bent forward, staring at the floor. “It can’t be, Melissa. It just cannot be. Maybe you just wanted it to be.”

There was a soft, bitter hoot of laughter. “Joshua, Sidney Rigdon is against plural marriage. Brigham Young believes with all his heart that it is from God. He already has another wife. Maybe more. You think I wanted a sign that Brigham is the one to lead us?”

He lifted his head and saw in her eyes the agony she was feeling. He stood and walked slowly to her. She turned her back on him, tears suddenly welling up that she did not want him to see. He took her by the shoulders. “Does Carl know?”

There was a quick shake of her head.

“Are you going to tell him?”

Again, her head went back and forth. “I don’t think so.”

“Did he . . . ?”

“No. Nothing. He knew something strange was happening. As you could tell coming home, he is quite bothered by it all. He wouldn’t talk about it.” She turned around to face him now. “And frankly, I’m glad. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“What’s strange,” Joshua began, almost musing now, “when this whole thing with plural marriage started, and Carl and I and Nathan were starting to investigate it, Carl was far less troubled by the whole idea than I was. He was so logical about it. He didn’t believe that it had been given to Joseph by God, but he could see that Abraham and others had practiced it in the Old Testament.” He stopped, remembering how maddening it had been that Carl wasn’t as infuriated by it all as he was. “What changed him, Melissa? He is so absolutely against it now.”

“I did,” she said simply. At the look in his eyes, she went on quickly. “When he saw how it upset me, even the very thought of him having another woman as his wife . . .” She had to look away again. “I think I would die, Joshua. And I’m not just saying that. If Carl ever took another wife, I think I would just lie down and die of a broken heart. Seeing that, he really turned against it.”

He left her and walked back to the sofa, but he didn’t sit down. He looked at her. “Then what does that mean, Melissa? If you think you saw Joseph today, then what? Does that mean you believe God wants Brigham to lead the Church? And if so, what about how God feels about plural marriage?”

Her lower lip was trembling slightly, barely visible in the soft lamplight. But there was no mistaking the glistening in her eyes. “It doesn’t change how I feel, Joshua,” she said in a low whisper. “It should, but—” A shudder ran through her body. “Even if I knew for absolutely sure that it was God’s will, it wouldn’t change how I feel about it.”

He nodded, wishing now that he hadn’t come. “I’m sorry, Melissa. I didn’t mean to pry. I just . . . Well, I’d better get back. Caroline said she might wait up for me.”

As he started to the door she remained motionless. When he reached the hallway he stopped and looked back.

“We’ve always been honest with each other, Joshua,” she said softly, not only repeating his words but also using the same tone of voice.

He laughed. “Not always, as I learned tonight.”

“Did you see anything today, Joshua?”

He didn’t move. It was as if someone had shot off a cannon beside him and his ears were ringing so loudly that he hadn’t heard. Then, as though someone from outside of himself was making his body move, he slowly shook his head.

“I saw you,” she said, coming toward him now. “I saw you go rigid and then straighten up. You saw something!”

“I . . .” For several moments, mind racing, he searched for the right words. Then he shook his head, this time with an attempt at firmness. “I didn’t see Brigham turn into Joseph Smith,” he said, with more sharpness than he intended. “If that’s what you mean, the answer is no. I didn’t see anything.”

With a quick, humorless smile he stepped to her, bent down, and kissed her on the cheek. “How come you and me ended up in this family, Melissa?” he said. Then, without waiting for an answer, he turned and walked out into the night.

By the time Joshua returned home the house was dark. He stopped on the porch and removed his boots, then went inside, moving carefully so as not to make any noise. As he moved through the entryway, past the arched opening into the main parlor, Caroline spoke. “I’m in here.”

Surprised, he set his boots down and went in to join her. “I thought you’d gone to bed,” he said, bending down to kiss her.

“I told you I’d wait up.”

“Yes.”

“How is Melissa?”

There was no moon outside tonight, but they always kept a lamp burning in the hallway upstairs for the children, and it put enough light in the house that he could see her face dimly. He peered at her in the near darkness, then chuckled. “You women. A man doesn’t stand much of a chance against your intuition, does he?”

Caroline reached out and took his hand. “Returning the book was a pretty thin excuse.”

“That’s what Melissa said too,” he replied.

“Was Carl there?”

“No, he’d gone to bed.”

“So?”

“So what?” It was feigned ignorance and obviously so.

There was no response, but he could feel her reproachful look even if he couldn’t fully see it. He sighed softly. “She is very troubled.”

“Because . . . ?” she prompted.

“Because she thinks she saw it too.”

For several seconds Caroline considered that, then softly asked, “I assume that by ‘it’ you mean the transformation of Brigham Young?”

His head bobbed once curtly.

“Was that the way that Melissa put it, that she
thinks
she saw it?”

He started slightly at that, only now realizing that he had used that word. He finally had to shake his head. “No.”

There was a soft murmur, an expression of sorrow and empathy and concern all at once. “No wonder she’s troubled.”

“Sidney Rigdon would have made things easier for her.”

“I know.”

Then, wanting to change the subject, he snapped his fingers. “By the way, George Galloway came by the stables this evening. Guess who he saw heading for the boat dock with his valise in hand?”

“Who?”

“John C. Bennett.”

Caroline slowly nodded. “So he knows it’s over.”

“Evidently. There’s the old saying about rats and sinking ships. I think after today, Bennett knows that Rigdon’s ship is sinking.”

“Good. I’m glad he’s gone. He is an evil man.”

They fell silent, and after a few moments, Joshua straightened. “Well,” he said, pulling on her hand to bring her up, “you must be exhausted.”

She didn’t respond. She kept his hand, but didn’t rise. “I am. But I wouldn’t have missed this day for the world. Thank you for taking me.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad I was there.” At that moment Joshua wanted to turn to her, to ask her exactly what it was she thought she had experienced today. He wanted to probe, to question, to challenge her assumptions, to dissect and analyze the whole experience—because of all the family, Caroline was the most troublesome to him. First, he had absolute confidence in her honesty. Second, she had been the first. He might be able to explain away Savannah and Christopher as having been influenced by the others, but Caroline had been first. No one had told her what to look for, what she should be seeing. But somehow he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was not sure he wanted to hear what he was fairly certain she would say.

“Joshua?”

He tensed inwardly. “What?”

“Tell me about today.”

He found that his breath had caught momentarily. He forced himself to let it out, and then answered with studied casualness. “What about today?”

That won him a second look of reproach. She wasn’t going to let him play that game with her. He straightened, remembering his words to Melissa. “Well,” he grunted, “I didn’t see Brigham Young turn into Joseph Smith, if that’s what you mean.”

“
Was
that what I meant?” she asked sardonically.

“I don’t know, Caroline, what did you mean?”

“I asked you to tell me about today.”

“Well, Pa was right. Brigham Young did speak with great power. Aside from all of the other, that alone was enough to convince the people that he should lead them. I’ve never seen Sidney Rigdon so lifeless and dull. It was—” He stopped. He had almost said “remarkable.” “It was unusual,” he finished, knowing how lamely it came out.

She waited, watching him steadily. He began to squirm a little under the directness of her gaze. Then finally she shook her head slowly. “Why you, do you suppose?”

His head came up quickly. “Why me what?”

Caroline reached out with her other hand so that she held his hand with both of hers. “Joshua, I won’t force you to tell me anything, but I was sitting right beside you, remember? Something happened to you today.”

“I saw nothing,” he said sullenly.

“I know that you
saw
nothing,” she said, repeating the one word with soft emphasis to let him know that she saw through his little ruse. Then it was as if he were no longer there and she was speaking to herself. “But why you? Father Steed neither saw nor heard anything unusual. Nathan. Rebecca. They didn’t either. And they have never faltered in their faith. So why me and why you? It is strange.”