Morning Star (11 page)

Joseph hurried out of the room and Mark slowly extended his hand. “Hello, William. I don't believe I've had a chance to talk to you since Missouri days. Is your family well?”

William nodded. There was a question in his eyes as he turned to survey the room. “I hear you're Joseph's lawyer. Didn't know you were here. Sorry for exploding in.” A low grin moved across his face. “Keep hoping I'll catch him teaching some lovelies the secrets of the kingdom.”

Mark ignored the remark and said, “I understand you've been involved in mission work. What do you think about the climate out there? Are people being attracted to Joseph, or is it the promise of land and freedom?”

William shrugged, still wearing his gleeful grin, and pushed on. “What do you think about the new doctrine?”

Mark replied, “I know absolutely nothing about it.”

For a moment he looked disappointed and the glee disappeared, leaving his face surprisingly thoughtful. “Hyrum was terribly against it in the beginning. Don Carlos told me before he died that Joseph had prophesied to Hyrum there would be a witness given to him about the rightness of the doctrine. Well, sure enough, he got it.” He paused to scratch his shaggy thatch of hair and pace the room.

His face was now very sober, nearly frighteningly so, Mark saw with surprise. Fastening Mark with a steely gaze he said, “'Tis upsetting to say the least, but the
Book of Mormon
—”

Joseph stepped through the door. He eyed William as the unfinished sentence hung in the silence. Glancing sharply from William to Mark, he said, with his voice cold and level, “And just what about the
Book of Mormon
, my dearly beloved brother? Just what had you in mind to say to Attorney Cartwright?”

Astonished, Mark looked at William and saw the sober expression replaced with wicked glee. His lips were twisted in derision. Abruptly he laughed and turned toward the door.

With a quick movement, Joseph was there. “Not so fast.” His hand grasped William's shirt and twisted, pulling the big man closer. “William, you are not keeping your part of the bargain. I suggest you snug up your religion good and tight. You may need it more than you think you do.” With a thrust he propelled his brother out the door and slammed it behind him.

Joseph was still trembling with anger as he turned around. Mark watched him take a careful breath, settle his collar, and move behind the desk. After another breath he said, “Just a little problem with Judge Adams. Mark, I'm afraid I'll be involved the rest of the day.”

Mark could see that Joseph was in control now. He also saw the curiosity in his eyes, a deeper expression Mark didn't understand. Joseph spoke slowly, “I hope you didn't get the wrong idea. I wasn't thinking of sending you on a mission. I'm certain of your loyalty and I know you'd be willing, but I need you here.”

Mark was on the street before he could identify that look in Joseph's eyes. It was fear. As he walked toward the stable he muttered, “Just maybe there's something to those rumors about William having something on Joseph. More than maybe, I'd say. Seems the words
Book of Mormon
has something to do with it.”

Mark's thoughts were full of the scripture he had read that morning. It had excited him with a mysterious promise. When he had read it aloud to Jenny, she had just looked puzzled. Now Mark murmured the words. “So they shall make their own tongue to fall upon themselves.”

Chapter 10

The spring morning was lovely enough of itself, Jenny thought, but another joy wound itself around her heart this late April day. She flicked the reins along the mare's back and smiled to herself. It was Mark. For the past two weeks he had acted like a man who'd dropped his sack of potatoes.

“God's in his heaven, and it's all right in the world,” Jenny happily misquoted to the blue sky and wild plum trees.

A creaking, groaning wagon was approaching and she looked over her shoulder. “Morning, ma'am.” The white-haired farmer yanked on the reins as they drew abreast. The apple-cheeked woman beside him nodded brightly. “You be Mark Cartwright's wife?”

Jenny nodded. “Saints?”

“No.” For just a moment the smile dimmed and then she added, “We met your husband a-goin' into town when we're on our way with the milk. Nice, friendly fella.” With another smile they were on their way, and Jenny realized they hadn't introduced themselves.

Snapping the reins across the horse's back Jenny said, “Must be our Gentile neighbors across the ravine, the Daniels.” She rode on.

The Pratt farm was just ahead. Jenny studied the log house tucked back in the curve of trees and felt her curiosity welling up again. Sarah Pratt had become the object of gossip for the past two Relief Society meetings. Strange things those women could find to pick over—talking about her and Dr. Bennett. Thinking of Sarah's winsome face, her honest smile, Jenny shook her head and her curiosity grew.

The lane leading to the Pratt home was coming up. Jenny compared the story of Sarah's unhappy husband to her own cheerful Mark. They said he nearly committed suicide when he came back from his mission and heard the gossip.

Abruptly giving way to impulse, Jenny tugged the reins and wheeled the buggy into Pratts' lane. She had only a few troubled minutes to sort the things she might say to Sarah, and then she was at the house.

Sarah was standing in the doorway and Jenny called. “Just passing this way. I wonder, would you like to go into Nauvoo for the Relief Society meeting with me?”

Slowly Sarah came down to the buggy and lifted her face. Jenny saw the frown, the questions in the clear gray eyes and waited. “I heard there's a bit of talk. Would it help or hinder if I were to go? I understand Emma's a mite sharp.”

Jenny frowned. For a moment she was caught up in wondering why Emma was involved in the gossip. “Sharp? At times she seems so,” Jenny said slowly. “I was thinking not of the gossip, but of your husband. I know he's better now, but remembering how unhappy my Mark has been, I wanted to encourage you.”

Sarah's eyebrows arched in surprise. “I'm sure it isn't for the same reason.”

“Reason?” Jenny frowned, beginning now to regret her hasty decision. She slanted a glance at the woman and saw her unexpected smile.

“Yes, I would like to be out this day. I've felt house-bound. If you could come in while I dress the tyke and smooth my hair—”

Jenny hopped from the buggy. “Wonderful!”

Sarah's little boy, Aaron, was nearly the same age as Sally's Tamara. He carried his boots to Jenny as Sarah went to change her frock. Over the little fellow's chatter, Jenny heard her horse nicker and Sarah said, “There's someone. Please—while I finish dressing.”

Jenny opened the door and with surprise said, “Why, Dr. Bennett!”

He bent over her hand in a way that warmed Jenny's cheeks, saying, “We've not been introduced, but I'm certain you are Mark Cartwright's wife.”

“And I know you only through—” she hesitated, and he grinned.

Sarah came into the room, looking startled as she saw the visitor. “Why, Dr. Bennett, what brings you this way?”

“I've a task out this way and I decided to check on my friend.” He turned to lift the child. Over little Aaron's head he asked, “I haven't seen Orson. Is it well with him?”

Sarah paused only briefly. “Aye. But there's so much inquiry this morning, I'm beginning to worry. Is there a new story afloat?”

Dr. Bennett glanced at Jenny with surprise. “Oh, no,” Jenny said hastily; she took a deep breath and felt she had much to explain. “See, Mark's been so . . .” They waited. “Well, not himself. Remembering what they said about Orson, I just felt . . .” The two faces were changing. Jenny saw Sarah's stony expression and saw the lines crinkling across Dr. Bennett's. He was amused!

“I assure you, my dear,” he chuckled, taking Jenny's hand, “Sarah is just as virtuous as she claims to be. If you have a problem, let's just sit down and discuss it. You won't be able to shock me. Is it Joseph?”

Sarah interrupted, “Dr. Bennett, I do believe—”

He glanced at her and Jenny watched his face change. When he faced Jenny again, he said, “I'm on my way to do another task.” Again he paused and studied Jenny's face. “I can assure you, my dear. At any stage in the problem, I can take care of the situation. There will be no danger to the mother and this will not prevent future increases, if she so desires.”

“What—where?”

Sarah interrupted, “He has a kind of—hospital. Surely you've noticed the little building out on the flats. It's only about a mile and a half from town. But I can't believe that you've—”

Jenny was shaking her head furiously. “You're talking about taking a baby out, aren't you?”

“Abortion.” Sarah's voice was flat. “'Tis a common task in town.” Her voice was bitter. “And a very common need.”

“I can't believe that,” Jenny said dully, thinking of her own great need. Now she lifted her head, realizing the unstated questions. “Dr. Bennett, I wanted to come to you for advice on
how
I could—And you think it's just the contrary situation!”

Sarah put her arms around Jenny. Now the hard lines were gone and she smiled. “Oh, Jenny, I'm so sorry. Seems we all think the worst of each other around here.”

After Dr. Bennett left, Sarah seated Jenny at the table and made tea. “I do not condone all that's going on in the name of religion,” she said as she sat beside Jenny. “The reason Dr. Bennett and I are friends is because he has been a friend to me in my need.” Jenny watched her compress her lips as she picked at the lint on her sleeve.

When she lifted her head she smiled. “I don't want to hurt people or hurt the Saints' cause, but I have been misunderstood by people—” Again she paused and then took a deep breath. “Just this one thing. I was hungry and nearly destitute while my husband was on a mission. Dr. Bennett befriended me. Contrary to the gossip, he was never my lover. Even if it weren't for my husband, whom I love dearly, John Bennett and I are too close friends for that.”

Jenny, recovering from the shock she had felt, was beginning to understand the dark looks, the hinted questions of the women at Relief Society. “Sarah,” she whispered, “I would like very much to be your friend. Perhaps in time, if you'll go with me, the others will forget the terrible stories and we'll all be friends.”

She hesitated a moment and then continued, “But will you please tell me about Dr. Bennett? I know nearly nothing about the man except mentioning him makes the women giggle.”

“Well, there are a few things I don't know. I haven't questioned him about his morals, and I don't know much about his past. He is a doctor. In the beginning he contacted Joseph. Some call him an opportunist, and it could look that way when you consider the way he eagerly walked into the church and started taking control of everything.

“But then, I have a feeling Joseph really needed him. There is a flair, a sophistication about the man. But he's also capable of being a sincere friend.

“He was secretary of the Illinois Medical Association at the time he came to Nauvoo. I don't condone the abortions he's doing, if you are wondering about that.

“Bennett wrote the Nauvoo city charter, and with his influence was responsible for getting it through the state legislature. He became mayor of Nauvoo, assistant to Joseph in the church, chancellor of the university, brigadier-general of the Legion and even had a revelation addressed to him, calling him blessed. You know about his brothel and how it was shoved over the hill. Dr. Bennett is also quartermaster general for the state militia; that influence enabled him to win concessions for Joseph's Legion, including cannon.

“His newspaper articles make me uneasy. I feel there's more to Dr. Bennett's aspirations than we know about. But then, I'm not a man and needn't worry myself on that score.

“I do believe that he and Joseph aren't nearly as much in agreement as they have been in the past,” she finished thoughtfully as she gathered up little Aaron and smiled at Jenny. “I'm ready to go.”

****

Mark was nearly to Carthage when he realized he'd forgotten to pick up the papers from Joseph's office over the store. Disgusted with himself, he wheeled his mount and headed back to Nauvoo. As he rode he realized it would be too late to return to the land title office in Carthage that afternoon, but he pressed on, muttering, “I'll get the papers and head for home. Tomorrow I'll take the shortcut and save an hour. Don't know why Joseph couldn't have held off until the end of the week when Clayton makes his usual trip. It would save my going.”

He was still feeling like a disgruntled errand boy when he reached the store and took the back stairs two at a time.

The door at the top of the stairs was opening as Mark reached for the knob. He nearly collided with the scarlet-cheeked woman rushing past.

“Beg your pardon, ma'am!” he exclaimed, stepping back.

She paused and turned to him. “
I
should apologize,” she insisted, attempting a smile.

Mark saw the compressed lips, the shadowed eyes. With dismay he said, “I've offended you; I'm terribly sorry.”

“No, sir.” Her reply was sharp and her hand descended on his arm. “But, if you will be so kind, please escort me.”

Mark accompanied the young lady to her front porch. He was frowning as he started down the path to the office. “Miss Martha Brotherton,” he muttered to himself. “You've been seeking counsel from Brother Joseph, and I don't think he's helped you at all. It's been a long time since I've escorted a young woman who galloped down the street in such a huff. I can't believe a grizzly bear would have failed to take to the bushes under that threat.”