The Work and the Glory (538 page)

It was April sixth, 1846, the sixteenth anniversary of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

It cleared nearly as quickly as it had come, but it was followed by a severe drop in the temperature. By the morning of the seventh, there was snow on the ground and the thousands of puddles had become miniature ice ponds. Locust Creek rose six feet into a raging, muddy torrent, blocking any passage. Once again, man recognized the superior force. For the next ten days the Saints would hunker down in the Locust Creek Camp to wait for a kinder and more gentle response from the weather that seemed to be fighting them at every hand.

It was nearly ten o’clock on the morning of April eighth when Josh came splashing through the water and mud in search of his father. The weather had improved somewhat—the rain was intermittent now and not nearly as heavy as it had been—but it was still very cold and windy. Nathan, Joshua, Solomon, and Derek were out with the stock, letting them graze on the browse of the heavy willows along the Locust Creek bottoms.

Nathan was prodding at the neck of one of his oxen. The animal was bent on heading directly into the roiling waters of Locust Creek, and Nathan was trying to persuade it otherwise. Derek called to him, and when Nathan turned, his brother-in-law jerked his head in the direction of an oncoming figure. When he saw his son, Nathan gave the ox one tremendous whack with the palm of his hand, which finally turned it away from the stream, and then he trotted over to meet Josh.

“Is it Mama, son?”

“Yes. She wants us to find Sister Sessions.”

The others came in around father and son now too, faces anxious. “Is it time?” Solomon asked.

Josh nodded. “I think so. Mama wants us to find the midwife.”

“Is she all right?” Nathan asked, handing his ox goad to Derek.

“She said she’s fine. Not to worry. Just get Sister Sessions.”

“All right,” Nathan said, taking his son by the elbow. “Let’s go.”

Patty Sessions was known all over camp, as she had been in Nauvoo, as being the best midwife among the Latter-day Saints. She was the wife of David Sessions, a wealthy farmer who had joined the Church back in 1835, one year after Patty had been baptized. Patty and her family had come to Kirtland in 1837 just in time to leave the city in the hands of the apostates before going to Far West. And then in 1839 they were driven to Nauvoo. Caring, cheerful, competent, Patty was a source of great comfort to Nathan. He stood back with the rest of the men, watching as she directed the Steed family women like a sergeant at arms—empty Nathan’s tent, prepare a bed, boil water, find clean dry cloths and dry bedding, no mean feat after days of incessant rain.

As she turned to go back into the tent, she stopped and looked over to Nathan. There was a quick, warm smile. “It will be all right,” she called. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

Nathan felt the knot in his stomach loosen just a bit. Maybe it was just her way of trying to reduce his tension, but he didn’t think so. Lydia had thought the baby would come the last week of March. They were now into the second week of April. That was always cause for concern, and yet Lydia had been doing remarkably well. She kept telling Nathan that she was probably just too early in her calculations. Nevertheless, there had been their “silent baby” born back at the Morley farm outside of Kirtland in 1834. Then they had lost little three-year-old Nathan to the ague during that first summer at Nauvoo. Both had devastated Lydia. Nathan lay awake nights now worrying about what another tragedy might cost her.

With a jerk, he turned to Matthew, who had recently rejoined the family for a time. “Let’s start chopping some firewood. There’s no sense just standing around waiting.”

It was shortly after two p.m. when Patty Sessions stepped outside the tent, looked around until she spotted Nathan, then waved for him to come over. He dropped the ax and trotted over to face her. His heart dropped as he saw the gravity on her face, but as he reached her she broke into a broad smile. “It’s over,” she said. “Lydia is just fine. The baby too.”

“What is it?”

There was a soft chuckle. “That’s not for the midwife to say. Why don’t you go in and see for yourself.”

He took her hand and wrung it fervently. “Thank you, Sister Sessions.”

“No,” she said quickly, still smiling, “thank you. Thank you for having confidence in me.”

He nodded and slipped inside the tent. Lydia’s head turned and her eyes opened. Her face was drawn and pale, but she was radiant with joy. Cuddled up against her left arm was a tiny bundle of white. He moved swiftly to her side and dropped to his knees, taking her hands. “How are you?” he whispered.

“Fine.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Tired, but fine.”

He looked down. “What is it?”

Her eyes followed his, her mouth softening. “It’s a girl, Nathan. It’s a little girl.”

“Wonderful!”

She laughed softly. “Actually, she’s not so little. Sister Sessions guesses she’d weigh in at about nine pounds.” She reached down and pulled back the blanket.

For a long moment, Nathan just stared. Lydia was right. The little face was round and fat, the cheeks looking almost as though they were stuffed with food. Her skin was still red and flushed from birth but smooth and without flaw. Her eyes were closed, but long dark lashes showed against the cheeks. Her head was covered with black hair, almost an inch long, and very thick. Gingerly he reached out and touched it. It felt like silk. “Oh, Lydia,” he breathed, “she’s beautiful.”

“I know.” Tears had welled up in her eyes. She smiled through them, reaching out to squeeze Nathan’s hand. “I know.”

Josh’s head appeared suddenly in the tent door. “Brother Brigham’s coming.”

Nathan and Lydia both looked up in surprise. “Here?” Lydia blurted.

“Looks like it.” Josh withdrew again.

“I’ll bet Matthew sent word to him,” Mary Ann said. She was in one corner, sitting beside Emily, who was rocking the baby back and forth, cooing to it softly.

“Quick, Nathan, get me my hairbrush.”

Smiling, Nathan complied. He wanted to argue with her, tell her she didn’t need anything. He couldn’t remember her ever looking more beautiful. She had slept for two or three hours this afternoon and awakened much refreshed. But he knew better than to dispute with her over this and crawled quickly to the chest and retrieved the brush for her.

“Is the baby still dry?” she asked Emily as she began to brush her hair with long, quick strokes.

Emily felt beneath the blanket. “Yes, Mama.”

“Maybe Brother Brigham is just passing by.” She lifted her hair and began to twist it. “Nathan, get me my whalebone hair clip.”

He gave his mother a look, but Grandma Steed only smiled, so he went to the trunk again.

Outside now they heard Josh’s voice. “Good evening, President Young.”

“Good evening, Brother Brigham.” Elizabeth Mary, Josiah, and little Joseph, who would all be sleeping in the wagon tonight, sang out their greeting together.

“Good evening, children. I understand you have a newcomer at your house.”

“Oh,” Lydia said, piling her hair into a bun and jamming at it with the clip Nathan had gotten her. “He is coming here.”

“You look wonderful, Lydia.”

“You do,” Mary Ann agreed. “You look fine.”

There was a rap on the canvas flap, and then it pulled back. Nathan stood up and walked over to greet the senior Apostle. “Hello, President.”

Brigham reached out and took his hand, pumping it vigorously. “I hear congratulations are in order,” he exclaimed, looking past Nathan to where Lydia now sat straight up in her bed. “Evening, Sister Lydia. Evening, Mary Ann.”

As Brigham came in, Josh followed him and let the tent flap drop again.

“Good evening, Brother Brigham,” Mary Ann answered. Lydia just nodded demurely.

“How are you?” Brigham asked, moving around Nathan to kneel down beside Lydia.

“Very well, all things considered.”

“That’s what Sister Sessions said too. I’m glad.”

“So she’s the one who told you?” Nathan asked.

“Well, that and Matthew came over, as proud as if he were the father himself.” He peered more closely at Lydia. “You look really good, Lydia.” Without waiting for a response, he swung around to Emily and pointed to the baby. “So is this her?”

“Yes,” Emily said proudly. She twisted her body so that the baby’s face was visible.

“My, my,” Brigham said, reaching out to take the baby from Emily. “She’s like a little china doll! And so tiny.” He pulled the blanket back further. “And would you look at that hair!”

“That comes from Lydia’s side of the family,” Mary Ann laughed. “The Steed family babies get nothing like that.”

The tent door opened again and the other children trooped in. They weren’t about to miss a visit from President Young. He patted the ground beside him. “Come here, you young’uns, and tell me about this new baby sister of yours.” As they settled in around him, he looked at them with sudden solemnity. “What are you going to call her?”

They all turned to look at their mother for permission to speak.

“You can tell him,” Lydia smiled.

“Patricia,” Elizabeth Mary said shyly. She would be eight soon, and of all the children she looked the most like her father. She was also the one who had most hoped for a little sister.

“Patricia Ann,” five-year-old Josiah said.

“But we’re gonna call her Tricia,” little Joseph, not quite three, sang out, wanting to be heard too.

“It’s for my grandmother on my mother’s side,” Lydia explained. “She was always my favorite grandmother.”

“Little Tricia Steed.” Brigham turned and winked at Emily. “I think she’s going to look just like you,” he said.

Emily positively beamed. “I think so too. Look at her chin. And her eyes are going to be dark, I think.”

“That’s still too early to tell,” Josh said.

“I know,” Emily said tartly. “But Mama thinks they’ll go dark too, don’t you, Mama?”

“Could be,” she said, pleased at her children’s pride in their new sister.

The Apostle turned to Nathan. “Well, one bit of good news, for you anyway. I took a small group of men out to scout out the road ahead. We’ll not be going anywhere for another day or two.”

Nathan felt quick relief. He had assumed that, with the weather, they wouldn’t be moving on, but hearing the confirmation of that took away some anxiety. There was no way he could be moving Lydia for another day or two, even if they had to stay behind the rest of the company. “So the roads are still pretty bad?”

Brigham pulled a face. “Not really. We only found one mud hole.”

“Only one?” Nathan said in surprise.

There was a quick impishness in the gray-blue eyes. “Yes, but it was six miles long and about half again that wide.”

They all laughed at that. Brigham turned back to the baby and stroked her hair with the side of one finger. “So little Tricia Steed. A pretty name for a pretty girl.” He turned to Joseph. “But aren’t you going to call her Locust Creek Steed?”

There was momentary shock, then the children tittered. “Locust Creek!” Josiah groaned. “That’s not a name for a girl.”

“Oh?” Brigham said gravely.

“You silly,” Joseph said. “You don’t name girls that.”

“But why not?” Brigham looked at Elizabeth Mary. “Didn’t you hear about Sister Jacobs?” He glanced at Lydia. “That’s Zina Huntington Jacobs, wife of Henry B. Jacobs.” He looked back at Elizabeth Mary now. “She gave birth to a little boy about two weeks ago, while we were crossing the Chariton River. So they named the boy Chariton.”

Elizabeth Mary looked openly dubious. Even Emily wondered if he wasn’t teasing them.

“That’s true,” Mary Ann said. “I saw the baby myself. And they’re going to call him that too.”

“So, here we are at Locust Creek,” Nathan broke in with a deadpan look at his younger children. “Maybe Locust Creek Steed is a better name than Tricia. We could call her Loki or something like that.”

“Oh, Papa,” Elizabeth Mary said, with an air of infinite patience.

“Maybe you’re right,” Brigham went on. “Maybe Tricia is better.”

“I think so,” Josiah and Joseph said together, not really very amused with the other possibility.

Brigham looked over to Lydia. “Did you hear that Sister Stewart gave birth yesterday as well?”

“No, which Sister Stewart?”

“Maria Stewart, wife of Brother Rufus Stewart.” He frowned a little. “Unfortunately, she wasn’t quite as lucky as you. They were still coming into camp night before last in the midst of that terrible storm when she started into travail. She had no choice but to continue walking. They were almost two miles away from any shelter. You know what Locust Creek has been like?”

“Yes,” Lydia said. They could still hear it roaring even now, and the water had subsided substantially since the rain had stopped.

“Well, Rufus saw a vacant house that would provide her some shelter, but they had to cross the creek to get to it. He led her across on a narrow log.”

Lydia groaned in empathy. If the pains had started while she was making her way across the raging water . . . She shuddered.

“Anyway, they made it safely, and early yesterday morning she gave birth to a healthy baby boy.”

“I know Sister Stewart,” Mary Ann said, as the others shook their heads. “I’ll go see her tomorrow.”

Brigham looked back at the children and his sly grin was back. “I don’t think she’s going to name her baby Locust Creek either.”

They giggled now, knowing that they were being teased.

“Well,” Brigham said, handing the baby back to Emily, “I’d best be going. We’re so happy for you. She is a beautiful baby.”

“Thank you, President,” Lydia said, deeply pleased that he had come when there were likely a hundred things shouting for his attention.

As he stood up he turned to Nathan. “There is one more bit of good news, besides there being only one mud hole, I mean.”

“What’s that?”

“We got word from the advance company. They’ve made a contract with one of the settlements ahead. They want us to split three thousand rails at fifty cents per hundred.”

“Really!” Nathan exclaimed. “That is good news.”