The Work and the Glory (421 page)

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Authors: Gerald N. Lund

Tags: #Fiction, #History

BOOK: The Work and the Glory
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When the front wheels snapped free of the wagon bed, Olivia hurtled skyward, tumbling end over end. Even before she hit the ground, the front corner of the wagon dropped, ploughing into the earth. For a moment it skidded along, but then the corner dug into the soft earth. The tail end of the wagon box flipped up and over, bouncing like a tumbleweed in a windstorm.

For a second or two the silence was total. Dust boiled up in great clouds. But there was not a sound. The two would-be rescuers stood frozen in horror, staring at the carnage and destruction before them. Two blocks away, near the offices of the
Warsaw Signal,
a small knot of people also stood rigid, staring toward the shattered wagon. And then out of the silence came one long, drawn-out scream. “Mama! Livvy!”

Nathan got up as quietly as he could, so as not to wake Lydia. Normally, the sound of a horse outside his window on a summer night would not have brought him up with a jerk, but these were not normal times in Nauvoo. He tiptoed to the open window and peeked out. Their bedroom faced Ripley Street, and as he looked down, he could see a dark figure just sliding off his horse. There was a grunt of pain as the man got off the horse and hit the ground. He hobbled forward and started tying the reins to Nathan’s fence.

Behind him, Lydia sat up. “What is it, Nathan?”

He waved her to silence. “Who goes there?” he called down loudly.

The man jumped, then straightened, looking up at him. “Nathan? It’s me, Will.”

“Will?” And then in the soft moonlight he could see that Will was hunched over, holding one arm across his chest, and he moved slowly. “Will, what’s wrong?”

“Can you get Derek and Matthew? Bring them to Grandpa Steed’s.”

Nathan didn’t ask any more questions. He whirled around and went to the chair for his clothes.

“It’s Will?” Lydia said, up now and moving quickly as well.

“Yes. And it looks like he’s hurt.”

When they came into the main room of Benjamin and Mary Ann’s house, Lydia stopped and one hand flew to her mouth. Will sat at the table beside his grandmother, who had a wet cloth in her hand and was dabbing gingerly at his face. And what a face it was. His cheeks and jaw were a mottled mass of ugly bruises. One eye was nearly closed. Over it, a smear of blood pointed to a cut in his eyebrow. His lips were puffy and split in one place. “Oh, Will!” Lydia gasped. “What happened?”

“Did you get Derek and Matthew?” he asked Nathan.

“Yes, they’re coming. What happened, Will?”

He just shook his head and Benjamin looked up. “Let’s wait until everyone gets here; then he’ll only have to say it once.”

Nathan nodded and strode to the door. Derek and Rebecca were just coming into the yard. Up the street he could see two more forms running toward them. “They’re coming,” he said over his shoulder.

There was a similar horrified reaction from the others when they saw Will’s face, but Benjamin waved them to silence and got them all seated. “Now,” he said, very gently. “Tell us what happened, Will.”

He did. He didn’t look at them, but just stared at the floor. His voice was low, and sometimes they had to lean forward to hear him. He started with a report of his trip to Carthage and what he had found there and of his quick return to Warsaw. They nodded grimly at that. Rumors were flying like bullets in Nauvoo too. The whole city was in a state of panic.

Still not meeting their eyes, Will went on. He explained the decision to leave Warsaw as quickly as possible. Now, in a wooden, lifeless voice, he described in great detail the arrangements he and his father had made. He told about the livery stable and the tarp. He described the wagon and explained how careful they had been, how he had filled the whole bed of the wagon with mattresses for his mother, how he made sure she had a pillow for her head.

With a growing sense of horror, Benjamin finally reached out and laid a hand on Will’s arm. Will stopped, almost startled as his eyes came back into focus. “What happened, Will?” Benjamin asked gently. “Tell us what happened.”

For several seconds he stared at his grandfather, and then suddenly his eyes were filled with tears, his swollen lip began to tremble.

Rebecca was shaking her head, not wanting to hear the answer. “Oh, please,” she whispered, sensing what was coming.

Will’s face crumpled now and a great sob was torn from deep within his body. He buried his face against Mary Ann’s shoulder. “Livvy’s dead, Grandma. Livvy’s dead!”

“No!” Lydia cried, leaping to her feet. Rebecca and Jenny gasped, then burst into tears. Nathan rocked back, stunned into silence. Derek turned away, his eyes burning.

“What about your mother, Will?” Benjamin asked, in that same soft voice.

Will pulled away from Mary Ann, brushing at the tears with the back of his hand. He spoke swiftly now, telling them about driving past the newspaper office, about the typesetter blocking the way, about the runaway wagon. As he started to describe how Olivia had tried to turn the wagon, Mary Ann dropped her head now, her body shaking. “Oh, dear Lord, no!”

“What about your mother, Will?” Benjamin said again. “Is she all right?”

He shook his head. “Mama’s real bad, Grandpa. That’s why I came. Papa didn’t want me to. Said it’s too dangerous for you to come to Warsaw right now. But you’ve got to come. You’ve got to help her.”

Lydia’s face was drained of color. “What about the baby, Will?”

He looked up, remembering that part, and there was a momentary brightening. “The baby came this afternoon. We thought it would be dead. A little girl. She’s very tiny, but I think she’s all right.”

Then the enormity of it settled in again and he started to shake his head, the shock making his voice hollow. “If we hadn’t put the mattresses in and tied the tarp down real tight, Mama would have been killed too. It was like she was in a cocoon. But the wagon flipped completely over. She’s got a broken arm, and one ankle is also broken.”

Lydia had to look away, biting down on her lip to stifle the cry within her.

“Your father? Charles? Savannah?” Derek asked now.

“They’re all right. They went another way.” He shook his head. “We were going to meet once we got out of town.” He swallowed hard, fighting for control of his voice again. “Papa’s in shock. I’ve never seen him like this. I can’t get him to talk to me. He just sits by Mama, holding her hand, and rocking back and forth.”

Nathan was up in an instant. “Derek, you get your wagon. Rebecca, Jennifer, Lydia, get blankets, pillows, mattresses. We’ll need medicine, stuff for the baby. Matthew, see if you can borrow a wagon from someone. We’ll need another wagon for the rest of the family.”

“I’m going with you to Warsaw,” Lydia said to him.

Nathan jerked around and gave a quick, hard shake of his head.

“No, Aunt Lydia,” Will cried. “Pa’s right. Warsaw is no place for Mormons. We’ve had a doctor come. But there are a lot of men in town. They’re drinking hard. You don’t want to be a Mormon out on those streets tonight.”

Lydia folded her arms and planted her feet. “There’s a baby down there,” she said evenly, “and Caroline can’t be nursing it. I’m still nursing little Joseph. I’m going.”

“But—”

“For two days little Joseph can survive with a bottle.”

Benjamin stood, looking at Nathan. “She’s right,” he said.

Nathan’s face was twisted with fear. “I know.” He looked at Lydia. “All right. We’ll get things ready. Will, you stay here and rest for as long as you can.”

But Will didn’t rest. He sat between his grandfather and his grandmother, holding each other tight, and they all wept together.

“Joshua?”

There was no response. He was standing by the window, staring out into the darkness.

“You’ve got to decide, Joshua. We can’t wait much longer.”

He turned, and Benjamin was shocked once again with what the last two days had done to him. His eyes were sunken and old. Two days of black stubble covered his chin, making him look all the more like a tormented man. His mouth was drawn, his skin pallid.

“I can’t, Father. She’ll die if we move her.”

Nathan stepped forward. “She’ll die if we don’t take her back, Joshua. We’ve got to risk it.”

Joshua’s head jerked up, weaving drunkenly now. “I’ve already killed my daughter,” he cried hoarsely. “I won’t kill my wife too.”

Nathan moved forward and took him by the shoulders. “Joshua, you were trying to get them out. You can’t blame yourself.”

“I should have moved them. I knew it was bad. People were even starting to yell at me on the streets. Now my Olivia is gone.” He looked away. “She’s gone, Nathan, and I never got to tell her I was sorry for not believing her.”

Nathan shook him gently. “Joshua, nothing can bring Livvy back now. We’ve got to think of Caroline and the other children.”

That finally got through. “Yes. Savannah is terrified. I could hardly get Charles to sleep.”

The others stood by, content not to intervene. Matthew was by the door. Derek stood near the other window. Will sat beside his mother’s bed, looking very tired now. Lydia had just finished nursing the baby and was rocking her slowly in one corner.

Joshua turned and looked toward the bed. His hand came up, as if in supplication. “The doctor says she is bleeding internally. If we try to move her . . .” He passed a hand before his eyes, not able to say it. “You’d better just go. It’s too dangerous.”

Nathan turned and looked at Lydia and shook his head. It was clear that Joshua was still in shock. He was almost babbling, jerking from one subject to another.

“I tried to tell Will not to go get you, but . . .”

“Did you think we really wouldn’t come?” Lydia asked gently.

He turned. Now his eyes were haunted. “You had every right not to. I—” He dropped his head. “If only I hadn’t made
them
come here,” he cried. “If only I hadn’t been such a fool.”

Will stood and limped over to stand beside his father. “Pa, I was the one who sent Livvy on the wagon alone.”

Joshua swept him up and clung to him. “No, Will, it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t your fault.”

Benjamin watched them, feeling a growing sense of urgency. “Joshua, dawn is in a few hours. We have to decide. We can give her a priesthood blessing to help her make the trip.”

“No,” he said shortly.

“Yes!” Nathan said fiercely. “That’s how we got you out of Far West and up to the McIntires. You were hovering between life and death and we took you twenty-five miles on a travois.”

“No, Nathan.”

“How can you say no?” he said, angered by this kind of blindness. “You were with Joseph that day across the river. You watched him raise Elijah Fordham from his deathbed. How can you say that power isn’t real?”

“Because,” Lydia answered for him, “Joshua doesn’t think God will let that power be used in his behalf. He’s afraid that Caroline will die because God wants to punish him for bringing them here.”

Nathan and Benjamin both turned around to stare, first at her and then at him. Joshua fell back a step, then moved to the window, turning his back on them. Nathan looked at his father, then made up his mind. “Joshua, we’re blessing your wife and taking her back to Nauvoo. If you don’t like that, you’re going to have to fight me to stop me.”

“Joshua?” The faint murmur brought them all around. Caroline’s eyes were open and she was trying to raise her one hand. In an instant Joshua was across to her and clasping her hand. She fell back, her breathing shallow and rapid. “Joshua?”

He leaned over her, trying not to look at the battered face. “Yes?”

“Take me home.”

He reared back. “But—”

“Please, Joshua.”

He looked over at Lydia, torn with indecision. She was crying now, but she smiled at him through the tears and nodded. “Just say yes, Joshua. That’s all she wants to hear.”

He turned back to Caroline. “Yes.”

She closed her eyes, her face smoothing; then suddenly she rose up sharply. “Olivia. Can’t leave her.”

A cry of anguish was torn from Joshua’s throat.

“We won’t, Caroline,” Nathan said, his own voice strained now. “We’ll take her back and give her a proper burial.”

Joshua stood up, suddenly decisive. “All right, let’s take her home.”

“Good,” Nathan said. He turned to Derek. “Make sure the teams are ready. Matthew, you’ll have to get Savannah and Charles when we’re ready. Will—”

But just then a soft knock sounded on the door. For a second everyone froze, then there was a scramble. Nathan whipped out a pistol from his belt. Will hobbled over to the corner and grabbed his rifle. Derek leaped back to stand behind the door. Matthew instinctively moved over to shield Lydia. Joshua also drew a pistol, then held up a hand for quiet. “Who is it?” he called.

“Joseph Smith.”

If the knock had stunned them, this absolutely dumbfounded them. They gaped at one another, not believing their ears. Only Lydia responded aloud. “Brother Joseph?” she cried.

“Yes, Lydia, is that you?”

“It
is
Joseph!” Derek cried, stepping out and undoing the catch that locked the door from the inside. He threw the door open and Joseph strode in. Behind him was Orrin Porter Rockwell.

Nathan’s eyes registered total shock. “Joseph?”

“Hello, Nathan. Benjamin.” Then he strode over to Joshua. There was not a moment’s hesitation, even though Joshua shrunk back at his approach. Joseph threw his arms around him. “Joshua, I’m so sorry. I can’t tell you how the news of your tragedy has torn at my heart.”

Rockwell came inside and shut the door behind him. Joseph released Joshua and immediately went to Caroline’s bedside, leaving Joshua dazed. He dropped to one knee and took Caroline’s hand. Her eyes fluttered open again, then widened perceptibly. “Joseph?”

“Yes, Caroline.” He bent down and laid his cheek against hers. “It’s all right, Caroline. Everything is all right now.” There was the barest nod.

Nathan moved over to Rockwell. “What are you doing here?” he hissed. “There are a hundred men out there howling for Joseph’s blood right now.”

Rockwell gave an enigmatic shrug. “You know Joseph. Your mother came and told him what happened. There’s no other explanation needed.”

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