“Because the hoof is much like our fingernails,” he said, “only much thicker, of course. Does it hurt when you cut your fingernails?”
“I don’t cut them. I always chew them off.”
Joshua just shook his head as Meyers hooted. The blacksmith brought the shoe over and laid it against the horse’s foot as Joshua set the clippers aside. The shoe was too round and it extended past the edge of the freshly clipped hoof. Meyers took a pair of tongs, put the shoe in the pincers, and shoved it into the glowing coals.
“What are you doing that for?”
“Watch, and I’ll show you.”
Joshua had to smile. This wasn’t just her way of stalling. Whatever it was she had come to talk to him about—as if he didn’t know—was forgotten for the moment as she watched with fascination something she didn’t understand.
“The bellows pump more air into the fire,” Meyers explained, pumping the bellows with one hand and adjusting the placement of the shoe in the fire with the other. “That makes the fire get very, very hot and this gets the iron in the shoe very hot. When the iron gets hot enough, then its softer and I can hammer it into shape. Watch.”
After waiting another minute, he withdrew the shoe, which was now glowing cherry red.
“Oh,” Savannah gasped in amazement.
Meyers swung around to the big anvil, picked up a two-pound sledgehammer, and began to tap the shoe firmly, sending off hot sparks.
“Won’t it burn the horse?” she asked, her eyes wide.
“Nope.” He hit it again, held it up for scrutiny, pounded on the edge a couple more times, then turned and thrust the shoe into a tub of water. There was a fierce, momentary sizzle, and a wisp of steam rose from the water. After a brief pause, he withdrew the shoe and walked back to the horse. Joshua lifted its foot again. The fit was better this time, but still not sufficient. Back into the fire the shoe went.
“All right, Savannah, you’ve seen how he does it. Now, off with you. Your mother will be worried.”
“Papa, I want to be baptized.”
He sighed wearily. “Savannah, I’ve told you and I’ve told you. When you are a little older and can understand things better, then if you want to join the Church like Olivia and Will did, I won’t say anything. But until then, no. For the hundredth time, the answer is no.”
“But, Papa, I am old enough. I’m accounterable.”
He cocked his head slightly. “You’re what?”
“I’m accounterable.”
Meyers was watching, smiling again. “I think the word you want is
accountable,
Savannah.”
“Yeah, that’s it. Accountable.”
“And just what is that supposed to mean?” said Joshua.
“It means that when I turned eight years old, Heavenly Father said I was accounter— accountable.”
“I know that, Savannah, but do you even know what it means?”
She rose up, her face offended. “Of course I do. It means I’m old enough to know right and wrong.”
Meyers, a convert to the Church from Connecticut, decided to help. “The revelations say that a child is innocent and not capable of sin until they become accountable at the age of eight. That’s why we don’t baptize a person before then. Savannah is exactly right. Accountability means a person is old enough to start realizing the difference between what is right and what is wrong.”
Joshua merely grunted, looking at Savannah. “If you know right and wrong, how come you left home and came all the way across town without telling your mother?”
If he had thought to trip her up with that logic, he was mistaken. “Because being baptized is the right thing to do. Even Mama believes that.”
“No, Savannah. When you’re older, maybe. But now, the answer is no. I’m not going to say it again. Now, go home.”
“Why does my Heavenly Father think I’m old enough to be baptized and you don’t?” she shot right back at him.
Meyers nearly dropped the tongs and the shoe along with it. He had to stifle a laugh when Joshua shot him a withering look. He turned back to the fire, saying, just loud enough for Joshua to hear, “Sounds like a pretty good question to me.”
“Savannah,” Joshua said, walking to her and taking her by the shoulders, “I’m losing patience now. I’ve given you my answer. And I’ve asked you to go home. Now, I want you to mind me.”
Now her face crumpled and she began to cry. “Please, Papa. Please let me be baptized.”
“That’s not going to work either, young lady.” He turned her around, gave her an affectionate swat across the bottom, then shoved her gently in the direction of the gate. “Go home, Savannah. I mean it.”
She walked away, not in dejection but in defiance. Her shoulders were squared, her head high. “I’m going to be baptized, Papa,” she called over her shoulder. “You’ll see. You can’t make me not be baptized.”
It was past noon when the door to the freight office opened and Caroline stepped in. Joshua looked up in surprise. “Hello.”
She looked around, her face anxious. “Where is Savannah?”
He set the pen down slowly. “You mean she’s not with you?”
“No.” She held up her hand. A wrinkled piece of paper was in it. “She left me a note saying she had come down here. She was supposed to be over at Melissa’s with Sarah. Jane Manning was going to help them make doll clothes.”
Joshua stood and came around the desk, his face now showing worry. “She
was
here, pestering me about being baptized. But I sent her home over two hours ago.”
Caroline’s hand came up to her face. “Two hours?”
“Yes, at least. Did you check at the other cousins’?”
“I asked them, but they all said they hadn’t seen her this morning.”
He went to the coatrack behind the door and took down his jacket. “I’ll come with you.”
Darkness had come almost an hour before. Caroline sat at the kitchen table, her eyes red and puffy, her face pale, staring out the window into the night. She jumped as she heard the front door open, and was instantly on her feet. By the time she reached the doorway, Will was striding down the hall toward her. “Emily found her,” he said. “She’s all right.”
“I didn’t think of it before,” Emily said to her aunt and uncle as they walked toward the barn Nathan and Lydia had built on the back of their property. “We were playing hide-and-seek last summer. One night we couldn’t find her and Elizabeth Mary. Finally we all had to beg them to come out and show us where they were.”
Joshua nodded grimly. Caroline reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder. The rest of the family stopped at the door of the barn, hugging themselves against the evening’s chill. Joshua, Caroline, and Emily went inside, Joshua holding the lamp up high so they could see better.
For the last seven hours, all Steed family activities had come to a halt—the store had been closed, the brickyard and the freighting businesses were left to foremen, the cabinet shop locked and shuttered as Matthew brought his workmen with him to help. Cousins scattered, spreading out from Steed Row in every direction, calling out, lifting every bush and weed, looking behind every fence, going into every shed, outhouse, barn, icehouse and root cellar. Soon more than a dozen neighbors were in on the search as well. With every passing hour, the fear grew. It was early May now, and while the day had been sunny and warm, once the sun went down it turned quite cool. Savannah had worn neither sweater nor wrap of any kind.
Emily led the way across the main part of the barn to a corner stable. Nathan and Lydia had only one cow and one horse, so this stable was not used for animals. It was used for storage of old equipment, tools, and lumber. Emily opened the door to the stable and pointed. Joshua saw immediately where someone had crawled through the dust into a narrow opening under the accumulated junk.
Going up on tiptoe, Emily whispered into Joshua’s ear. “She’s in there. I heard her moving.”
“Thank you, Emily,” Caroline said.
Emily nodded, turned around, and left.
Joshua dropped to his knees, set the lamp down to one side, careful to put it on a bare spot on the floor, then called out softly. “Savannah. It’s Papa. Are you in there?”
There was a muffled response.
“Come on out, Savannah. Mama is here too. We’re not angry with you.”
There was no further response. He stood and began lifting the items off the pile and setting them aside. After a moment, he moved one large plank, then retrieved the lamp and held it high. Savannah sat in the far corner of the makeshift hut, huddled in a little ball, hugging herself and shivering noticeably. “Savannah?”
She looked up. “Yes, Papa?” In the lamplight they could see that her teeth were chattering.
Caroline stepped forward. “Oh, Savannah. You’re safe.”
Joshua motioned, his face gentle. “Come on out, sweetheart. It’s all right. I’m not angry with you.”
There was a tiny whimper; then she crawled slowly out. He reached out and helped her through the narrow entry. When he took her into his arms, he could feel the trembling in her slender body. He took off his coat and wrapped it around her. It went down to her ankles and made her look like a little girl again.
Caroline threw her arms around her. “Oh, Savannah. You had us frightened to death. What were you doing?” she asked, holding her against her body and rocking her back and forth.
“Papa said I couldn’t be baptized. I was going to stay in there until he said I could.”
“Didn’t you hear us calling for you?” Joshua asked. “We’ve been looking for you for hours and hours.”
Her head bobbed up and down. “I heard Uncle Nathan. Then later I heard Will.”
“Then why didn’t you—”
Caroline shook her head at him and he stopped.
“Come on, Savannah,” Caroline said. “Let’s go home. We’ll get you a hot bath and some supper. You must be starving.”
When Joshua came out into the hall, he was shaking his head. Caroline had to suppress a smile. Through the open door she had heard it all. Now that Savannah was warm and full and in her own bed, the battle was on all over again.
“She is
so
stubborn!” he whispered, taking Caroline’s elbow and starting toward their own bedroom.
Caroline just looked up at him and smiled sweetly.
“Oh no!” he said. “Don’t you give me that look. She doesn’t get that from me.”
“Not totally.”
There was half a smile. “So you’re willing to take a little of the credit?”
“No, I was thinking that you and Benjamin have given her about equal shares.” There was a soft, affectionate laugh. “She is so much like the both of you.”
“She says she is ‘accounterable,’” he moaned. “She doesn’t even know how to say it.”
“But she knows what it means,” Caroline answered quietly.
He made no comment to that. They moved into their bedroom and closed the door. “She says if I don’t let her be baptized, she’ll run away again.”
“I heard.”
“If she tries that again, I’ll tan her bottom.”
“Yes, I heard that too. Do you think that will convince her?”
He stopped, turned, and looked at her, his frown deep and formidable. “I’m not going to say yes, Caroline.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s not old enough.”
Caroline sniffed in amusement. “She’s old enough to hide successfully for seven hours from three or four dozen people.”
“That has nothing to do with it.”
She didn’t challenge him on that. “I don’t have to tell you that Savannah is a very unusual child. She’s already reading two grades past her age. Jessica couldn’t believe it when she was here at Christmas. Sister Anderson, her piano teacher, says she has learned more in seven months than her other students do in two years.” She paused for a moment or two. “And the fact that we have spoiled her shamelessly, doted on her like she was ten years older than she is, hasn’t helped.”
“You mean
I
have doted on her.”
“So have I,” Caroline answered. “We all have. She’s bright, she’s darling, she’s the apple of her grandfather’s eye. And she has a mind and heart all her own.” She looked straight at him. “And if you ask me, I think all of that is proof that she is accountable.”
“Maybe when she’s older,” he said stubbornly.
She wiggled down under the covers. “All right,” she said. “But I hope you don’t think it’s over.”
“Caroline, I want you to make it clear to her that she is not to run away again.”
“I will, Joshua. I’m just telling you, knowing Savannah, this isn’t over yet.”
Savannah sat at the table, her back straight and stiff, staring at the wall, ignoring the others. Caroline looked at Joshua for a moment, rolled her eyes, then turned to her daughter. “Savannah, eat your breakfast.”
“I’m not going to eat today.”
Joshua slammed his fork down. “Oh no you don’t, young lady. You’ll not be starting something like that.”
“Will you let me baptized?”
“No. You have my answer and there’ll be no more funny stuff.”
“Pa, I—”
Joshua swung around to Will, his eyes dark and filled with warning. Will met his gaze and then finally shrugged. “This sure feels familiar,” he muttered, but said nothing more.
Turning back to Savannah, Joshua was fighting for patience. “Savannah, either you will eat your breakfast or you will go to your room and stay there until you are ready to come down and eat. Do you hear me?” He swung on Caroline. “I want you to leave her plate here until it’s gone.”
Savannah stood up. She lifted her head and sniffed in disdain at the food, every inch the martyr now. “Good day, Papa,” she said loftily. “I shall be in my room.”
“Savannah!” Joshua warned, but she turned around and marched out. He looked at Will and five-year-old Charles, who watched the drama with wide eyes. “There’ll be no sneaking her food, now, you hear me?”
“Yes, Papa,” Charles said meekly. Will merely nodded.
He stood, leaving his plate unfinished. “I’ve got work to do,” he said shortly, and then he too left the room.
Will looked at his mother, but she just shook her head.
It was just after sundown when Will and Joshua returned from the freight yard. As they came into the kitchen, Joshua saw the plate of food sitting there untouched. Caroline, at the stove, had turned and was watching his eyes. Charles, setting the table around the cold, greasy plate, stopped, watching his father gravely. Even little Livvy, not yet a year old, watched him from her high chair.