The Work and the Glory (53 page)

Five minutes later he refolded the letter and put it back inside the book. He had read and reread it three times, each time his lips becoming more compressed, each time his eyes growing colder. As he shut the book there was no hesitation in him. He swept up the wrapping paper and string, along with the book, and strode to the back of the store where they kept the large trash barrel. He had just emptied it that morning. With great satisfaction he slammed the book into it. Then he moved to where he had been unpacking some bolts of material from the mills of New England. He gathered up the paper wrappings which had protected them, wadded them into balls, and stepped again to the trash bin. When he was finished, he leaned over and looked inside. The book and its wrapping were now completely covered with several more inches of paper.

Satisfied, he went back to the counter and turned to his account books.

“Are you sure you told Pa supper’s ready?”

Matthew looked at his older sister as though she were daft.

“Yes, Melissa, I told him twice.”

Mary Ann looked up. “What did he say, Matthew?”

“Nothin’. He just moved his head up and down and kept staring out the door.”

Becca looked worried. “That’s what he was doing when I went out to feed the chickens too, Mama.”

Melissa turned to her mother. “And this afternoon, when I asked him if I could go to the village. It was like he barely heard me.”

Mary Ann stood up. “You children go on and eat. I’ll go talk with your father.”

She took off her apron and took down a shawl from the pegs near the door. “Melissa, there’s more lamb in the pot.”

“Yes, Mama.”

It was nearly full dark, and with the sun gone the air had turned crisp and chill. She pulled the shawl more tightly around her, dreading what was about to come. When her husband had announced after breakfast that he was going over to Nathan’s to help with the flooring, she had nearly dropped the dish she was washing. But as she had grappled with how to say there might be a better day, he had got his hat and was gone. Then, no more than twenty minutes later he had come back. She had watched him from the window, stiff as an ax handle, not looking to either side, striding forward with eyes grim and mouth taut. With a sinking heart she knew her fears had been realized.

She stopped at the barn door, took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, then stepped inside. He had lit no lamp, and the interior of the barn was getting quite dark now. She stood there for a moment, letting her eyes adjust, finally making out his dark shape sitting on the workbench he used to fix the harnessing equipment. She moved slowly to his side, feeling more than seeing his eyes upon her. For several moments, she stood beside him, neither one speaking, then she reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. He did not move.

“Ben, what happened between you and Nathan?”

He stirred but said nothing.

“You’ve got to remember, Ben, he’s still very upset over Lydia.”

“He said he brought you a Book of Mormon.”

His voice was empty, hollow sounding, and she felt herself tense. “Yes, but I told him I couldn’t take it, not without your blessing.”

“He said that.”

She squeezed his shoulder a little, suddenly realizing that in spite of all the frustrations, she loved this man deeply. “I’ll not be going against your will, Ben. I told you that.”

He nodded in the darkness, then again the silence stretched out. Finally he straightened. “Does it mean that much to you?”

“What?”

“Joseph and the Book of Mormon?”

She felt her breath catch in her throat. “Yes,” she finally whispered. “It means more to me than anything besides you and the children.”

She could feel the disappointment in him, but his next words hit her like the weighted end of a hayrack in full swing.

“Then I’ll not be saying anything more about it.”

She stared at him, not comprehending.

“You want to read the Book of Mormon, you have my permission.”

Dropping to her knees in front of him, she clasped his hands. “Do you mean that, Ben?” she cried, hot tears springing to her eyes. “Do you really mean it?”

He nodded slowly. “My feelings about Joseph haven’t changed…” He finally turned to look at her, though his face was nothing but deep shadows in the barn’s gloom. “But I’ll not be making you try to accept my feelings anymore.”

Mary Ann sat back on her heels, her heart soaring. Then a thought struck her, and she felt it plummet again. She took a quick breath. “Ben?”

She felt his eyes on her.

“Joseph is going to organize a church.”

There was a sudden stiffness, but again he only nodded.

“A week from Tuesday, down in Fayette. He invited Nathan and Melissa and me.”

“Melissa too?” It came out almost as a cry of pain.

“Melissa’s not sure if she accepts it yet. And I’ll not be pushing her to it. I promise you that. But Peter Whitmer will be there and I think she’d like to go.” She paused, waiting for a response. When there was none, she took the final plunge. “If I were to be baptized…?”

He stood, moving slowly, as though weighed down with an infinite tiredness. But he took her hand and brought her up to face him. Then, taking her by the shoulders and holding her gently, he said, “I told you, I’ll not be telling you what you can and can’t believe. If that’s what you want, I’ll not be stopping you.”

With a cry of joy she threw her arms around him and buried her face against his chest. “Thank you, Ben! Oh, thank you!”

Chapter Twenty-six

Matthew scurried out of the house on a dead run, flying off the front porch in a great leap. “Nathan, Nathan!” he shouted.

“Hello, Matthew.” He stuck out his hand and pulled his little brother up onto the wagon seat beside him. Grinning from ear to ear, Matthew settled in beside him.

Nathan looked at him solemnly. “Think you can hold the team while I help Ma and the girls get their stuff loaded?”

Matthew whooped. “You bet!” He took the reins, chest puffed up, hands held high. Neither of the two animals was stirring, but Matthew cinched up on the reins a little and called, in his deepest voice, “Ho, mules!” One of the mules turned around, its ears flopping back lazily, and gave him a baleful stare.

Laughing, Nathan swung down and started for the house. As he stepped onto the porch, the door opened and his father came out, carrying his mother’s case. Both stopped short. They had not seen each other for a week now, not since the morning when Ben had come to help with the flooring.

“Hello, Pa.”

“Good morning, Nathan.”

“I…” His shoulders raised and fell again. “Pa, about the other day. I’m sorry for what I said.”

“It needed to be said,” he said gruffly. Then quickly changing the subject, he straightened a little. “Get the floor done?”

A twinge of shame shot through Nathan. “Yes. The planks are already starting to cure. By the time they shrink up, I think it will take another board or two.”

“Probably. Our floor here finally took four more boards.”

Nathan dropped his eyes. “If it’s all right, I thought maybe we could work together on the spring plowin’. Get yours done first, then mine.”

There was a brief smile and a quick nod. Nathan felt a flood of relief. It was his father’s way of saying the apology was accepted.

Melissa came out, followed by Rebecca and their mother. Both girls were dressed in new spring dresses Mary Ann had made just for this occasion, and they looked as cheerful and bright as a hillside filled with honeysuckle. Nathan gave Melissa an admiring look and a low whistle. “I think we’d better build a fence round you, keep the wolves from prowling in too close.”

“Go on with you,” she said, slapping at his shoulder and blushing down about three layers deep.

“And look at you, Becca,” Nathan went on, still speaking with mock sobriety. “We could paint a picture of you and sell it in the stores for a double eagle or two.”

Rebecca took the compliment more as her just due, smiling quickly and giving him a quick curtsy.

“And you, Ma. You sure look pretty!” Her dress wasn’t new, but it was one of her two Sunday dresses. Nathan suspected the other was in her valise to wear at tomorrow’s meeting. It was clear she was infused with some inner joy, and she was positively radiant this morning.

“My, my,” Melissa teased. “Aren’t you in the complimentary mood this morning.”

They moved to the wagon. Nathan put their things at the back, then moved forward to straighten the small benches which would provide seating for them on their journey. Satisfied, he swung around in one swift move and grabbed Becca. She squealed as he swung her up.

Suddenly the mood of gaiety quieted as Mary Ann stepped up to face her husband. She started to smile, but in an instant her emotions overwhelmed her and tears sprang to her eyes. It embarrassed Benjamin and he looked away. Going up on tiptoes, she kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, Ben,” she whispered.

He nodded, then awkwardly put his arms around her as she hugged him fiercely.

“Joseph didn’t say what time the meeting would be held,” Nathan said, finding his own voice suddenly husky. “If it’s early enough, we’ll come home tomorrow night. If not, we’ll leave first thing Wednesday morning.”

Benjamin nodded and stepped back, letting his wife go. Nathan helped Melissa, then his mother, up into the wagon, then climbed up alongside Matthew. He took the reins. “Goodbye, Pa.”

“Good-bye, son. Don’t forget to rest the mules every five miles or so.”

“I will.” He snapped the reins sharply. “Giddyap, mules.”

“Good-bye, Papa,” the younger children yelled, waving vigorously.

Melissa suddenly stood, holding on to Nathan’s shoulder to steady herself. “Thank you, Papa,” she called. There was a moment’s pause, then louder, “I love you.”

Nathan’s head snapped around and he looked up at his sister. His mother was also staring at her. If Melissa noted their surprise, she did not give any sign of it. Though the Steed family had strong bonds of affection, they were rarely expressed openly. Now, tears were streaming down Melissa’s face as she looked back at her father. Her hand came up and she waved to him, now as eagerly as the children. “I love you, Papa!” she shouted again.

Nathan glanced backwards. His father had frozen in midstride, and he was staring at his daughter. Then one hand came up slowly. His reply was nearly lost in the creaking and rattling of the wagon, but they all heard it. “I love you too, Melissa,” he called.

The first thing she noticed was the emptiness inside her belly. It puzzled her, and for several moments she tried to force her mind through the haze that clouded it. She was aware of a vague sense of alarm but could not define it clearly. Next came the awareness of the pain. It was not terrible, but it was there, steady and evenly spread across the lower part of her abdomen.

“Jessie?”

It came to her as though from a far distance. She turned her head, or thought she did. Nothing moved. She had to begin again and consciously will the neck muscles to obey her mind. Only then did her eyes bring Joshua into focus.

“She’s still under heavy sedative, Mr. Steed.”

The voice had a vague familiarity to it. She had heard it recently, but try as she might she couldn’t quite recollect who it was or where she had heard it. But the face hovering over her was no problem to her. She had spent too many hours studying the clean features, the dark eyes and heavy brows, the full mouth that could turn down so quickly or just as easily break into a smile that softened his whole face.

“Jessie, it’s me, Joshua.” Then his head turned. “She’s awake.”

“Joshua?”

“Yes, it’s me. I’m here.”

“Where…” Her mouth felt like she had been chewing on a mouthful of milkweed pods. “What happened?”

His eyes closed momentarily, then she felt him take her hand. “It’s all right, Jessie. The doctor has given you something to help ease the pain.”

“Pain?” She felt a sudden panic. There
was
pain, she remembered now. And blood. She had hunched over a chair. Joshua’s eyes had been wide and frightened as he had helped her to the bed, then plunged out of the door to find the doctor.

Suddenly her hand shot to her stomach. The roundness was gone. It was flat, the skin strangely flaccid. Her eyes flew open. “The baby?”

Joshua took her other hand in his. “You’re all right, Jess. That’s what matters.” The pain in his eyes was more unbearable than that in her body. “It will be all right,” he repeated dully.

As they crossed the Erie Canal, wheels rattling hollowly across the wooden slats, Melissa sat straight up, startling herself with the idea that had come into her mind. It took her aback for a moment, but almost as quickly as it came she knew it was right. She stood up. “Nathan, I just remembered. There’s something I have to do in town.”

He turned around. “You what?”

Her mother was equally surprised, but Melissa pretended she didn’t see it. Afraid they would press her for details she couldn’t give, she rushed on. “This will only take a minute. If you drive slow, I can catch up.”

“It isn’t something that can wait?” her mother asked. “We want to be to Fayette before dark.”

“No.” She had one hand on the side board and hopped lightly over it and began walking alongside the wagon. They were close to the Old Cemetery, where John Swift, one of Palmyra’s first settlers, was buried. It was only a few rods to Main Street from there. “Really, Mama,” she urged, “this won’t take long.”

“Can I go too?” Becca cried.

“No, Becca,” her mother said firmly.

Nathan reined up. “Where do you need to go?” he asked wearily.

“No!” she blurted. Then quickly, trying to recover her nonchalance, she went on. “I’ll walk. It’s not far.” She was drawing more and more quizzical looks from both her mother and Nathan now. “It’s, it’s”—there was a quick flash of inspiration—”it’s a surprise.”

“All right,” Nathan said. “We’ll just wait here for you.”

Stop being so helpful, Nathan!
She smiled up at him. “No, really. Mama’s right. We don’t want to be late.”

“All right,” her mother finally agreed.

“If you haven’t caught up to us by the time we’ve reached the first crossroads,” Nathan suggested, “we’ll wait for you there.”