The Work and the Glory (281 page)

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Authors: Gerald N. Lund

Tags: #Fiction, #History

BOOK: The Work and the Glory
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“He’s not dead,” she said fiercely, looking at Nathan. “I know that he’s not dead.”

Nathan nodded soberly. The thought had crossed his mind and it must have shown on his face. “Maybe he did write and it’s just gotten lost. You know how mail service can be.”

She nodded wearily. “I know. I’ve tried to think of every possible reason.”

Savannah was sitting on Nathan’s lap. Now she had had enough of this adult conversation. She reached up and tugged on her uncle’s jacket. “Where’s Gampa?”

Nathan laughed, looking down into those large, deep blue eyes which were now very grave. “Grandpa is in a place called Illinois, Savannah.”

“Where’s Gamma?”

“Grandma is there too. They miss you.”

“Wanna see Gampa.”

Hugging her to him, Nathan looked at Joshua. “Sounds like a good idea to me.”

“Me too,” Caroline said. She was not smiling as she looked at Joshua.

“Me too,” Olivia blurted. “Can we go see them, Papa? Can we? Please?”

“Whoa!” Joshua cried, holding up his hands. “Uncle Nathan just got here. Let’s get him settled in his room first, and get him fed. He looks pretty hungry to me.”

“What are you thinking?” Joshua finally asked. “When you talk about a family enterprise, what have you got in mind?”

Nathan leaned back in his chair, lifting one knee and holding it with his hands. “A store.”

“A store?”

“Like a dry goods store?” Caroline asked, also clearly surprised. Dinner was over now. Savannah was in bed, and they were talking in the parlor. Olivia sat quietly, knowing that if she wanted to be part of this, she had better act like an adult and not interrupt.

“Yes,” Nathan answered. “Only a dry goods store with a full line of products. Cookery, fabrics, spices, tools, sewing things for women, maybe even hats and a basic line of ready-made clothing for men and women. Dresses, shawls, boots, pants, jackets.”

Joshua’s one eyebrow had risen slightly, so Nathan hurried on. “You’ve got to remember that there are almost twelve thousand Latter-day Saints in Illinois right now, and more coming. They need a lot of goods.”

“Doesn’t Quincy have stores?” Joshua asked.

“We’re not staying in Quincy. We’ve got to have a place of our own.”

Joshua started a retort, then closed his mouth again, remembering his amazement the first time he went to Far West. What had been open prairie just months before was a full city humming with activity. Telling the Mormons that such things were impossible was a little fruitless. “A store,” he said instead. “It is an interesting idea.”

“A store is just the beginning,” Nathan said eagerly. “That will be good for Lydia and me.” He looked at Caroline. “You know that Lydia’s parents had a store in Palmyra. She grew up with it.”

“No, I didn’t know that.”

“She was good at it, too,” Joshua supplied.

“We plan to have Mama and Papa help,” Nathan said. “Pa can’t farm anymore. It would kill him.”

“So he’s not getting any better?” Joshua asked with concern.

Nathan frowned. “Oh, yes, he’s improving still, but . . .” He shook his head, rushing on now as the ideas came tumbling out. “Anyway, there’s the others to consider. Matthew and Brigham Young are talking about getting a cabinet shop going again. We could sell through the store the furniture and other products they make. Take special orders. Jessica will probably want to go back to teaching school again. I’ve been thinking that once we find a place, we are all going to have to have houses. Maybe we could add an extra room to hers that she could use for a school.”

“That’s a good idea,” Caroline said. “Lydia told me she is a wonderful teacher.”

“Yes. And that’s the point,” Nathan went on eagerly. “We go with our strengths. Each person doing what they do best. Derek wants to farm. He loves that. Maybe we could decide what crop is best, then market that too.”

“You really have been thinking about this, haven’t you?” Joshua said with a laugh, but also with admiration.

Nathan leaned forward. “Yes, I have. For many nights now. It makes good sense economically, but it brings the family together too. That’s what I like best about the idea.”

“That’s what I like best about the idea too,” Caroline said softly, looking directly at Joshua.

The room went quiet. Joshua was frowning deeply. Then he laughed, brushing it aside. “You know there’s thinking, and then there’s dreaming. Wild dreaming.”

Caroline was not about to be put off. “Is it dreaming to want to be close to your family, Joshua? And . . .” Now her voice became filled with concern. “And it would also be out of the state of Missouri.”

He threw up his hands. “Let’s not start on that again, Caroline. We’re fine here. No one from Jackson County is going to learn that I’m still alive. And if they do, who cares anymore?”

“Right,” she shot right back at him. “That’s why you attacked a complete stranger when he tried to follow you home.”

“Now, it wasn’t like that, and you know it,” Joshua said testily.

Nathan grunted. “It wasn’t? That’s exactly how I recall it.”

Joshua swung on his brother. “Well, what were you doing sneaking around following me anyway? Why didn’t you just come right up and say hello?”

“I was going to your office when I saw you come out. Then I thought it might be fun to follow you home and surprise you and Caroline at the same time.”

Caroline bored in now, with a quiet anger of her own. “Joshua, you’ve always been honest. That’s one of the things I love about you. So you look me in the eye and you tell me you have not been worried about us being here in St. Louis. You tell me that the reason you now call your business Samuelson and Associates rather than Samuelson and Steed has nothing to do with your concerns about being found.”

“It’s not that. I just . . .” But she had him, and he knew it.

Her eyes were suddenly shining. “You thought Nathan was someone from Jackson County, didn’t you?”

He looked away.

“Didn’t you?”

“All right, but I was just being cautious.”

“Well, if
you
are worried about that, how do you think
I
feel?” His mouth opened, but she went on quickly, fiercely now. “You forget. I saw those men who shot you! They sat across the table from me with their leering grins and their terrible breath and told me in detail how you died. They sat across the table and looked at me in a way that made me feel like I needed to bathe. Then they burned our house down around us. They followed us all the way to St. Louis.” She looked away suddenly. “They drove our son away from us.”

“Those men are dead, Caroline,” he said. “We’re safe now.”

She just looked at him and shook her head in disbelief.

Nathan knew it was not directly his affair, but he couldn’t help siding with Caroline on this. “What would the people in Jackson County do if they did know you were still alive? After all, you did kill a man, a member of the militia. Isn’t that worthy of a court-martial?”

Joshua turned on Nathan, angry, but before he could speak, Olivia leaned forward. “Papa?”

He barely glanced at her. “What?”

“I still have nightmares about somebody finding us.”

It was as if she had punched him. He turned to gape at her. “You do?”

She nodded slowly. “I didn’t want to tell you.”

For several moments they all sat there. Caroline had dropped her head and was staring at her hands, which were clasped in her lap. Nathan was studying the pattern that had been painted on the wall so as to resemble wallpaper. Olivia was watching her father with imploring eyes.

Finally Caroline looked up at Nathan. “We got a letter from Melissa a few days ago.”

“You did? How are they?”

She glanced quickly at her husband, then away again. “Fine.” There was a moment’s hesitation. “She hinted that Carl might consider coming out west and going into some kind of business partnership with Joshua.”

Nathan’s jaw dropped. “Really?”

She nodded, but Joshua jumped in on that. “Don’t make more of that than what it is. That could just be Melissa talking.”

She started to answer that, but he went on quickly. “But even
if
Carl were willing—a very big
if,
I think—the best place for us to set up would be right here in St. Louis. So let’s stop talking about moving. I’m not about to move up in the middle of twelve thousand Mormons. We’re happy here.”

“No!” she said wearily. “
You’re
happy here. That’s all.”

Nathan decided a little lightness was in order. “So that’s it. You’re worried that you might come up there with all those Mormons and get converted.”

Joshua snorted in disgust.

“Look,” Nathan said, serious now. “Why don’t you just come back to Quincy with me for a visit. Mother would be so pleased to see you again. Then you can look the situation over. Maybe you could operate out of Quincy. That would still take you out of the state of Missouri.”

Joshua’s look was still hard, but finally he turned to Caroline. “You never told me you were unhappy here,” he finally said.

She sighed. “Joshua, how many times have you and I talked about the possibility of moving north to be closer to your family? Doesn’t that tell you something?”

He sat back. He looked at Nathan. Then he looked back at his wife again. Finally, he shook his head and turned to Nathan once more. “You know, brother, every time you come it seems like all you do is cause me grief.”

Nathan looked at him steadily, then slowly smiled. “I can’t think of a more deserving man.”

Again the room fell silent as Joshua looked at his wife. Then after several moments had passed, he turned to Olivia. “Did I ever tell you about your Uncle Nathan, Livvy?”

“No, what?”

“He’s got a lousy sense of direction. Gets lost at the drop of a hat. I was always having to find him when we were kids.”

“I beg your pardon,” Nathan said, surprised at this sudden attack. “I don’t ever recall your having to find me.”

Joshua went right on as if Nathan hadn’t spoken. “If we send him up north by himself, he’ll probably miss Quincy by a hundred miles if he misses it by a yard.”

Nathan was staring. Caroline’s head had come up and her face registered shock.

Now at last, Joshua turned to Nathan. “If the Mormons are moving out of Quincy, I suppose you’re going to need more wagons, aren’t you? The Steed clan is getting to be pretty substantial.”

Nathan nodded gravely. “Couldn’t possibly do without them.”

Caroline reached out and grabbed her husband’s hand. “Do you mean it, Joshua? Can we go back with Nathan?”

He nodded. “But don’t be getting your hopes up about moving there permanently.” Then, in spite of himself, his face grew thoughtful. “But it is an interesting business opportunity. It might not hurt to look around a little.”

She threw her arms around him and kissed him soundly. “Thank you, Joshua.”

Olivia went to them, trying to get her arms around her mother and father. “Oh, thank you, Papa. Thank you.”

Joshua pulled a face. “It’s really not fair, you know.”

“What?” Caroline asked.

“Nathan I can handle. Knock him around a bit if he gets too pushy. But when my three girls all gang up on me . . . You telling me you’re not happy. Livvy and her bad dreams.” His eyes registered disbelief. “Even Savannah, asking to see her grandpa.” He shook his head helplessly. “Trying to stand up against the three of you—I might as well try to spit on a prairie fire.”

Will stopped for a moment outside the captain’s cabin. He tugged at his shirt, stuffing it down inside the rope belt that held his pants up, keenly aware that the pants—the only pair he owned—were nearly worn through at the knees. They were bleached out to a pale gray by the combination of sunshine, wind, and salt spray that had also bronzed his face and arms to the color of dark honey. His shoes were scuffed and the little toe on his right foot poked through the thin leather.

He spit on his hands, rubbed them together quickly, and then smoothed down his hair as best he could. The last time he had cut his hair was while he was on the Montague plantation back in December, five months before. It was long and shaggy and grew as thick as the mane of one of his father’s Conestoga horses. He had no mirror to look at. It would have surprised him to find that if he passed by any but his closest friends or family, they probably wouldn’t recognize him.

Finally, as ready as he could be, he lifted a hand and knocked firmly.

“Enter.”

Opening the door, Will stepped inside. “Mr. O’Malley said you wanted to see me, sir.”

The captain was sitting in the big chair next to his bunk reading a large, old-looking book. He stood, moved over to the desk, and set the book down. “Yes, Steed, I did. Come in. Have a seat.”

Will looked around, then took a small four-legged stool beside the table. There was a padded chair in the corner, but somehow it didn’t seem appropriate to assume too much and sit in that. He pulled the stool out and sat down across from the captain.

“Coffee?”

“No, thank you, sir. I just had breakfast in the galley.”

“Oh. Fog lifting at all?”

Will glanced out the small porthole in the bulkhead. Outside, it was a uniform gray. “No, sir.”

“Ever have fog like this back in Missouri?”

Will looked up, a little startled. The captain had never made any reference to Will’s home. For that matter, he had never made reference to anything about Will’s former life. Will shook his head. “No, sir, not like this.”

“In England they call it pea soup. Nothing quite like it anywhere else in the world.”

“We’ll have to wait for it to lift, then?”

“Yes, but it’s still early. It’ll burn off in the next hour or two so the steamer can come out and take us into Liverpool. It’s up a river, you know, and we have to have an escort.”

“That’s what Jiggers said.” Will kept his face expressionless, still puzzled by the chitchat. He kept stealing glances at the captain, who was absently pushing a paperweight around with the tip of his thumb. He did not see any anger in the captain’s eyes, which made him all the more curious. Normally, only serious infractions of the ship’s rules brought a man to the captain’s cabin. Will thought he was clean, but he was still nervous. One could never be sure.

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