Morning Star (34 page)

And as the men prepared to go, the Prophet ordered them to check out all the locations he had earmarked. Before they left the room Joseph had fastened them with a stern eye and commanded their vow of silence. “We don't know what the next few years will hold for us. I'm not saying we're leaving, but I want all options checked out. Be a Joshua and Caleb, but don't put your heads too high in the clouds.

“We want a reasonable solution for the Saints. We want a decent place to live out our lives where we never again will be persecuted and hounded to death because we choose to follow God.”

But Mark couldn't tell Jenny, he decided, as he continued to eat cookies. There was a dark shadow in her eyes these days.

Jenny's attention was on a different country. She was thinking of her interview with Joseph. She continued to make cookies, while her heart was heavy with his words. Little John Mark didn't have a place with her in the eternities until she obeyed the Prophet.

This year Mark made certain the Christmas tree stand was sturdy. The tree stood straight and brave under its burden of popcorn, candy canes and shiny tin stars. Tom came carrying a wooden horse and cow for John Mark.

The Morgans came with Andy's sister, Helene. A determined gleam lit Helene's eyes as she smiled at Tom. The Orson Pratts came, with Orson full of his disappointment with the Washington trip.

Late in the afternoon they all returned to town for a reception at Nauvoo House. It was nearly dusk when they reached the red brick edifice.

“It's like a painting!” Jenny exclaimed to Mark as she hugged John Mark to her. The snow was falling gently in large fluffy flakes. “Just look!” she said, pointing to the sleighs with their graceful lines and bright bells. “Even the Saints are bright in their new Christmas mufflers and mittens.” Every window on the lower floor of the hotel glowed with light, completing the Christmas picture.

Inside, Jenny discovered Emma's fat china lamps sporting new red glass shades. Wreaths of holly and garlands of evergreen festooned the polished banister of the staircase, and the red carpeting of the lobby beckoned toward the fireplace and blazing fire.

Sally stopped beside Jenny and whispered, “Look at the chandelier; it glitters like diamonds.” In awe they stared up at the prisms, made alive with every fresh gust of wintry air. “It's grand, isn't it?” Sally stroked the marble-topped table and studied the shiny horsehair and red velvet upholstery. “Doesn't Emma look elegant in brocade? My, we Saints are going to be something special yet.”

Together Mark and Jenny made their way through the rooms, greeting the guests. There were the twelve, Brigham Young and his wife, Lyman Wight, both of the Pratt brothers, Hiram Kimball, and his wife. Later they found William Phelps and Joseph's younger brother, William Smith.

Jenny lost the thread of conversation moving around them. She was busy thinking about this powerful, tall brother of Joseph's. Tipping her head to investigate his face, she noted the sullen lines. His insolent eyes met hers. Without a doubt he had a caustic tongue, she recalled, thinking of recent issues of the
Wasp
, the newspaper he edited.

As she followed Mark across the room, she murmured, “And now he's our state legislator.” Jenny studied the three tallest men in Mormondom. They were spaced throughout the hotel, as if proximity could not be tolerated.

Recent gossip had William Law as a man in disfavor, bordering on apostasy. She looked from him to William Smith, and then to Joseph the Prophet. These men's minds were as forceful as their size. As she watched them, Jenny became convinced that trouble was brewing.

Later, Emma guided Jenny into a small room away from the lobby. Together they settled down to talk while Jenny nursed John Mark.

A gentle smile crept over Emma's face as she played with the baby's curls, and Jenny was emboldened to ask the question on her mind. “I haven't seen Eliza Snow for so long. Has she left Nauvoo?”

The smile faded from Emma's face. For a moment her frosty eyes held Jenny, then she said, “I believe you've asked in innocence. Since you were there when she fell, I'll tell you. Eliza is still in Nauvoo. I don't know where she lives and I've no desire to renew acquaintance. She was a serpent. I trusted her as I've trusted no other woman. She was my confidant, my friend.”

Emma paused, and in an icy voice that denied additional questions, she added, “Eliza was pregnant. I understand she's lost her baby.”

Later, after Emma left the room and John Mark was asleep, Jenny wrapped him in a heavy quilt and placed him on the floor.

As she got to her feet, she felt a hand on her arm. Glancing down, she recognized the massive gold ring. “Joseph,” she said with a tired sigh.

“Have you decided?” he asked. When she didn't answer, he gently urged, “Remember, I've pledged to be god to you. There's no way a woman will make it on her own; she's got to have a husband to take her into the celestial kingdom.”

As she hesitated, Jenny recalled that verse and turned. “Joseph, I've read a verse in the Bible that encourages me; I want to believe and accept it. It says that in Christ there's not this division. Neither Jew nor Gentile, slave nor free, male nor female, but that we're all one in Christ Jesus.”

He paused and his hand tightened on her arm, “Must I remind you again that to reject the gospel is damnation?”

She looked up, feeling the despair that was coming through her voice. “Maybe I'd rather choose damnation than deny my marriage vows.”

He sighed, “Jenny, I've held back on saying this, because I've not wanted to hurt you. But in the eyes of our Lord, your marriage vow doesn't exist. You are living in adultery with Mark Cartwright.”

Closing her eyes, Jenny took a step backward and was immediately surrounded by perfume and the cool touch of yellow roses. She felt that Presence and knew the promise.

She opened her eyes and stared up at Joseph. “I've been doing a lot of thinking and studying lately. I've decided the craft is all wrong. I don't want to have that kind of power. See, I have this need inside of me to know God. I guess you might say I've just promised the Lord I'd be a good Mormon and live up to my religion. Joseph, you make it impossible for me to keep that promise if—if what you're saying must be.”

There was the creak of the door behind Jenny and Mark was asking, “Jenny, are you ready to go home?”

Jenny was still staring at Joseph as she replied, “Yes, my husband, I am ready.”

Chapter 34

The January snow was piling up. In the pasture the cattle and horses huddled with their backs to the wind while Jenny stood at the window watching snow inch relentlessly toward the top of the fence.

John Mark had crept across the floor. Seizing her skirt, he tried to pull himself to his feet. “Big boy,” Jenny encouraged, smiling down at the bright-haired child. She picked him up and said, “Oh, I wonder if your papa has noticed how your eyes are changing. I'm glad. I want you to have blue-green just like his.

“Now, tyke, let's get that pan of bread into the oven beside the squash and then go for fresh diapers.” With another quick glance out the window she sighed and added, “I hope he comes before dark. The snow is blowing.”

When the baby was settled on his blanket and the aroma of fresh bread began drifting through the house, Jenny sat down close to the window and picked up her Bible. She hesitated and reached for Mark's Bible, feeling slightly guilty as she did so.

“Such interesting things he writes!” she murmured. A piece of paper marked Isaiah 8, but the paper was blank. Disappointed, she started to close the Bible when words caught her attention and she began to read. She straightened in her chair and caught her breath. It was as if the astounding words were speaking to her. Finally she sat back to think and then read again.

John Mark had been playing with a spoon, and now with spoon still clenched in his chubby hand, he had collapsed into sleep. She wanted desperately to kiss the smile on his face, even as she heard the scripture echo through her mind, underlining the fears. She dropped to her knees beside the baby and whispered the words from Isaiah, “ . . . Neither fear ye their fear, nor be afraid. Sanctify the Lord. . . . Let him be our fear, . . . He shall be . . . a sanctuary; . . . I will wait upon the Lord, . . . I will look for him.”

The door banged and Jenny was caught with Mark's Bible on her lap. She looked up at him as he stood by the back door. “Mark! What is it?” she gasped, scrambling to her feet.

She stared into his white face, seeing the deep breath he took before saying, “Jenny, nothing.” He was covered with snow, except for one coat sleeve. She touched it, seeing the hole.

“Who did it? And why?”

“Could have been anyone. I couldn't see. In this snow he could have been shooting at a bear.”

“Mark, not a bear; not even a deer.”

“Look, Jenny. I was shot at. I'm not blaming anyone. Not the Missourians, not the bunch from Warsaw or the Destroying Angels. Let's just forget it. He didn't hit me, and I don't think the miss was an accident. He was pretty close.”

She helped him remove the coat. “I can't believe such a hole without touching your arm. Not even your shirt. She flung the coat away and threw her arms around him. “Mark, I—I'm afraid. Did you say ‘Destroying Angels'?”

Mark tried to laugh it off. No matter how she pressed, he would say no more, but she saw the anxiety in his eyes.

The following morning when Mark reached Joseph's office, the place was buzzing with activity. Clayton was trying to write a letter. Two strangers were waiting to see Joseph; John D. Lee was perched on a barrel in the hallway discoursing on Mormonism to them, while Hiram Kimball paced the outer room and William Law pounded on Joseph's desk.

When Mark walked in, Joseph's attention diverted from Law to Mark. “Will you find the information on the last land deal and show William the bills of lading on the lumber?”

Law was still snorting in disgust as he followed Mark. “I've never seen such a slipshod office. He's got every worker in town over at the Nauvoo House, and I've begged for weeks to get fellows to work for me. Mark, there's still folks out there waiting for housing. I'm about to take things into my hands and hire out of St. Louis.”

Mark was removing his coat. William stopped abruptly and fingered the patch Jenny had stitched over the bullet hole. “What happened?”

Briefly Mark explained. He saw Law's frown, the slanted glance. William dropped his voice. “Think it was the Angels?”

“I try to refrain from thinking so.”

“That's not wise.” He paced the room, closed the door. When he returned he dropped his voice. “Six months ago, one of the brethren came to me in secrecy to tell me the Destroying Angels had been commissioned to get me. I didn't take him too seriously for a time.” He paused. “As Joseph says, a word to the wise is sufficient. Watch the Whittlers next time you walk through town.”

They heard the creak of floorboard and Joseph came through the door. He dropped a sheaf of papers on Mark's desk. “Read this report. I need advice. Briefly, President Tyler, in his address to Congress the first of the month, advised setting up military posts along the route of the Oregon Trail to provide security to emigrants and travelers. I propose petitioning Congress to allow us to be that army. I'm asking to be appointed an officer with power to take volunteers and patrol the western borders of the country for the purposes of law and justice.”

He left the room and William Law checked the invoices and left. Mark had just begun to read when the explosion of voices from Joseph's office had him running for the outer door. It wasn't the first time visitors had been protected from Joseph's temper.

But it was the first time it had boiled over into the outer office. Joseph Smith came stalking after Hiram Kimball. Mark caught the word
steamboat
. Knowing Kimball owned a number of wharves along the river, he paused to listen to the exchange. Joseph bellowed, “I don't care if you own the water, too! You are stealing the city's right to wharfage. You'll settle the affair and turn the money over to the city or I'll blow up every steamboat in dock!”

John D. Lee came into the outer office and said, “Well that's about as slick a way of getting rid of the froth and troublemakers as I've seen.”

Joseph turned and snapped, “What?”

“Those fellas out there. Just time-wasters, wanting to see Joseph for themselves. Asking how many wives you've got. But you started yelling and they decided they had business down the street.”

Joseph was still frowning as he took his hat and coat and headed for the door.

John followed Mark into his office. “How's that pretty little wife of yours? Did I hear right about you havin' a young'un?”

Mark sat down to answer Lee's questions and listen to his rambling talk. After a few moments of lighthearted chatter, Lee turned to a serious subject. “Cartwright, how's this spiritual wife doctrine settin'?”

“With me?” He paused. “I know little about it. The Prophet gave us initial teaching on it. He hasn't pushed to make me add to my family. So all this means is that I'm safe so far. Lee, I think you know me well enough to know I'll buck it all the way.”

Lee scrutinized Mark. “You'll be your own man,” he said slowly, looking down at his hands. He slanted a glance at Mark. “I advise you to walk more careful. Joseph's touchy right now. Seems he's very impatient with slow learners.”

“Are you warning me, John?” The man looked surprised, and Mark continued. “Last night, on my way home, someone took a shot at me.”

John squinted at Mark. “Given the climate around here right now, I'm not surprised. Just remember Joseph's getting very touchy and impatient. He's mighty fearful about people who talk too much, especially about the celestial kingdom.”