All around him heads came up. Then there was an equally soft chorus of assent. “Amen!” they said. “Amen to that!”
* * *
“Jessica?”
“Yes, Matthew?”
“Can I ask a favor of you?”
She lowered the book she had been reading and laid it in her lap. “Of course. What is it?”
He hesitated a moment, then shoved one hand into his trouser pocket and drew it out again. It held a folded sheet of paper.
She smiled. “Oh, Mother Steed told me you got a letter from Jenny.”
He colored slightly. “Actually, I wrote to her first.”
“Good for you. I think that what the McIntires did for Joshua and our family was wonderful.”
“Yes.”
She laughed softly. “That wasn’t the only reason you wrote, though, was it?” she teased.
He blushed more deeply. “Well . . .” That irrepressible grin that was Matthew’s trademark flashed quickly. “Not entirely.”
“So what’s the favor?”
The smile quickly died and his brow furrowed. There was a quick sigh, then he thrust the letter toward her. She took it, opened it carefully, then spread it out on the book she held. Matthew moved quickly around behind her so he could read it with her.
Dear Matthew Steed.
Thank you for yur leter to me. After this long, I thot you wur not going to rite to me. It was a totle surpris for me and for Kathryn. We have mist you and Joshua sinc yur deepartur. We get lonesum so far away frum town.
I laffed at your leter. You cant rite wurs than me. I went to skul for 3 yers befor we came to Mizoori, but we wur to far away to go agin here. Mama trys to teech us sum, but she says she is no more lerned than we are. You said yur frend Peter helped you with yur leter. I wisht I had sum one like Peter to help me with my leter to you. I no it luks verry bad.
I half been reeding the Book of Mormon. I reed it to Kathryn. It is hard and I dont understan everry thing. But I beleeve it is a tru a count of a peeple who beleeve in Jesus. Mama has been reeding it to. She dont want me and Kathryn to no that. We dont have manny books out here so she reeds it at nite when she thinks we are a sleep. I dont no what she thinks abot it. But I like it a lot.
Thank you for riting. I was verry happy to here from you. Pleeze rite back.
Yur good frend,
Jenny McIntire
Jessica looked up at her young brother-in-law. “That’s very nice, Matthew. And that’s wonderful about her family reading the Book of Mormon.”
“Yeah.” His countenance was still fallen, and he looked suddenly morose.
“But?” she queried softly.
He shrugged, then looked away. “She don’t spell very good.” Instantly he looked ashamed at his disloyalty to her.
Now Jessica began to understand. “Well, I’ve seen worse. And from grown men.”
“She don’t talk like that.”
“Like what, Matthew?”
He was struggling for the right words. “I don’t know. She was very good at saying things. And she seemed really smart. She asked some questions I didn’t even know how to answer.”
Jessica set the book down and turned fully around. There was a gentle kindness on her face. “There’s a difference between being unlearned and stupid, Matthew.”
He flushed. “I didn’t say I thought she was stupid.”
“I know. But the reason why Jenny can’t spell any better than she does is that she hasn’t been to school very much. It doesn’t mean that her mind is not very quick.”
“Hmm!”
She was tempted to smile again. She had not seen Matthew quite so troubled over such an issue before, but she kept her eyes serious. “Brother Joseph is not wonderful at spelling. Haven’t you ever heard him say that’s why he uses a scribe all the time? He doesn’t like to write. Neither does Brother Brigham. His spelling is not very good either.”
Matthew’s eyes grew thoughtful. “I hadn’t thought about that. And they’re really smart, aren’t they?”
“Yes, they are.”
He was still mulling over the implications of that in his mind, so Jessica went on quickly. “You know, Matthew, when Joshua and I were first married, I couldn’t read.”
“No!” he said in disbelief.
“Yes. That’s true. And I felt very stupid.”
“But you can read now. You’re teaching school.”
“Yes. I taught myself how to read and write.”
His eyes widened and there was new respect there. Then his mind made the logical jump. “Could Jenny do that?” he asked eagerly.
Now she hesitated. “Well, it’s a little harder for a young person. I was a married woman. Joshua had money, so I could get books and get people to help me if I needed to.”
Suddenly Matthew shot to his feet. “Jessica! I have an idea.”
She started to open her mouth, then smiled broadly instead. “I think it’s a wonderful idea!” she said warmly.
“You do?” Matthew blinked. “But I didn’t—”
She raised her hand. “You’re thinking about having Jenny come down here to school, aren’t you?”
He nodded eagerly. “What if they could—Kathryn too? Then Jenny could learn how to spell real good, like you and Peter can.”
Jessica’s mind was racing ahead, considering all the possibilities. “If Mrs. McIntire would let them, they could stay here with me. They could help me tend the children to pay for their board and room. And both of them could go to school.”
Matthew nearly jumped in the air. “That’s a wonderful plan, Jessie. Would you do that? That would be so wonderful.”
Suddenly Jessica’s face fell. Matthew saw it instantly. He leaned forward. “I’ll write to Mrs. McIntire. I’ll bet she’d be happy to have them come to school. And if she knows they’ve got a place to stay and all—”
Jessica was shaking her head. “But that’s just it, Matthew.”
“What?” he cried in dismay.
“We have to leave the state come spring—probably sooner. Then there won’t be a house and a school and a place to keep them.”
He stepped back, totally crestfallen. “Oh,” he murmured.
She reached out and took his hand. “I’m sorry, Matthew. It is a wonderful idea, but it will have to wait until we see what happens, where we end up. Then we can write them.”
“But then it will be too late,” Matthew exclaimed. “Now we’re just twenty-five miles away. Once we leave the state there’s no way they can come that far.”
Jessica wanted to weep for having to quench the joy she had seen in his face, and yet she couldn’t try to soften it for him. The realities were too final. “I know, Matthew. But do you really think we can ask them to come here, when we’re not even sure how long we’ll be here?”
For a long moment he just looked at her, then his shoulders fell. He shook his head slowly, then turned and walked away.
Chapter Notes
The letter from Joseph discussed by Benjamin, Matthew, and Derek is found in Joseph’s history (see
HC
3:226–33). The conditions in the jail and the attempt to feed the prisoners human flesh are recorded by several sources (see, for example,
Restoration
, p. 423).
Chapter 30
Nathan kept his eyes on the dark line along the horizon off to the west of them. Somehow the Georgian coast—low and flat, but solid and unmoving in a world of constant movement—steadied his stomach. He got up out of his deck chair and walked to the rail. With brief stops in a couple of ports in Florida, they had been within sight of land for most of the way, which cheered him greatly. Seeing nothing but water stretching to the horizon in every direction left him with a deep sense of uneasiness. He peered at the coast. It was probably a mile or so away. But in an emergency a man could swim that far. . . . He shook his head, chiding himself for his foolishness.
This was their fifth day on the packet ship out of New Orleans, and Nathan thanked whatever fates there were that the weather had been almost perfect the entire time. Even then, he had lost his meals twice to the constant rolling motion of the ship, a fact which Joshua delighted in noting several times a day. Nathan shuddered as he considered the return trip that still had to be made. The chances of having good weather both ways were marginal, and his imagination was already working overtime in contemplating what it would be like.
He turned to where Joshua was stretched out in his chair, hat pulled down over his face to shade it from the early-morning sun. “How long would it take to go from Savannah to New Orleans overland?”
His brother didn’t move, but there was a throaty laugh. “A lot longer than five days, you can count on that. It’s seven, maybe eight hundred miles.”
“Oh.”
The laugh deepened, and Joshua reached up and pushed his hat back with his thumb. “Look, a man of faith like you should be able to get good weather going both directions.”
“I was just wondering,” Nathan said tartly, irritated that Joshua had seen through him so easily.
“What’s today?” Joshua asked, sitting up.
“December thirtieth.”
“I mean what day of the week?”
“Sunday.”
Joshua got up and moved over to stand beside Nathan. “That’s perfect. When I was last here, the packet ships sailed for New Orleans on Mondays and Thursdays at one p.m. I think you can make tomorrow’s sailing easy. Won’t be this ship, but one just like it.”
Nathan turned fully from the railing now to look at his brother. “You’re really sure they’re here, aren’t you?”
“They’re here.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“They’re here!” Joshua said, a bit more snappishly.
“But you said that Savannah is a big town. We may not find them in one day. I may not make tomorrow’s boat. And I’m not leaving until we know.”
Joshua shook his head patiently. “I know right where Caroline is. I’ll make you a wager that by midafternoon I’m holding her in my arms.” Joshua set the crutch against the side of the ship and leaned on the rail. “You should be back home in a couple of weeks.”
“Like I said, I hope you’re right.”
“You are the jolly one today, aren’t you?”
Nathan looked up, surprised. Then he understood what he had been doing. “I guess your being this close to your family makes me miss my family all the more.”
“Will they still be there?” Joshua asked softly.
After a moment, Nathan shook his head. “I hope so, but who knows? Originally the militia said we could have until spring. Now . . .” His shoulders lifted and fell. “I hope so.”
Joshua reached down and massaged his leg slowly. “Can I ask you something without making you angry?”
Nathan’s head reared back a little. “Angry? Why would I get angry?”
“I mean it,” Joshua said, more soberly now. “I don’t want to give offense.”
Nathan laughed softly. “Which means this is about religion. Well, go ahead. You’ll find we Mormons are pretty tough skinned.”
Joshua nodded, but went on staring out across the water, deep in thought.
“Come on,” Nathan teased, “I told you I can handle it.”
“All right.” Joshua’s head came around. “Why don’t you give up?”
That caught Nathan completely by surprise. “Give up? Give up on what?”
“You know what I mean. Joseph’s in prison. So are the rest of your leaders. You’ve already dug enough graves on the prairie to fill a city cemetery. You’ve been kicked from pillar to post. The better part of the state of Missouri hates your guts. Now you’re about to be kicked out again. All those farms and orchards and houses that you’ve worked so hard to get. You’ll end up with nothing again, just as you did in Jackson County. So give it up. You’ve done enough, Nathan. Pa’s done enough.” He looked away. “Jessica has given more than enough.”
For almost a full minute, Nathan stared down into the water that slid past the hull of the ship below them. Joshua watched him out of the corner of his eye, then finally looked down again. “Sorry,” Joshua said. “It’s none of my business.”
“No,” Nathan said slowly, “it’s not that at all. I’m just trying to find a way to help you understand. I know that on the surface it must look absolutely crazy.”
“It does,” Joshua agreed instantly. “I used to think you were the devil’s fools, you Mormons. Now I can’t help but admire your courage. But is a courageous fool any less the fool?”
Nathan took a breath and straightened. “Let me ask you a question first.”
“All right.”
“When you came to the cabin and found those men with Mother and Lydia and Rebecca? From what they said, you never hesitated one moment. You just plunged in, even though you were outnumbered and outgunned. You really put your life at risk. Why?”
Joshua snorted in derision. “You know the answer to that as well as I do. And you would have done exactly the same thing.”
“Probably. But that’s my point. Why did you do that? Well, it comes down to one word, doesn’t it? Love.”
Joshua gave him a strange look. He hadn’t thought of it in those terms.
“Doesn’t it?” Nathan persisted.
Joshua nodded.
Nathan turned and leaned against the railing, his face pensive now. “Jesus said that a man has no greater love than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.” He looked around again, his eyes soft with thankfulness. “And you came about as close to doing that as anyone I’ve ever met.”
There was nothing to say to that. The crutch Joshua carried was evidence enough.
“Can you even begin to imagine how we feel about what you did? Me? Derek? Pa? You saved our women from something so horrible it makes one shudder to even think about it. How can we ever repay that?”
“You’re here with me now,” Joshua said without hesitation.
Nathan smiled. Joshua had walked right into his trap. “Why?” he asked again softly.
There was only one answer. “To show your gratitude. Love.”
“Of course.” Nathan straightened now, choosing his words with great care. “And that’s exactly how we as Latter-day Saints feel about the Savior.”
Joshua look openly dubious.
“Yes,” Nathan said earnestly. “Don’t you see? What Jesus did for us is all that you did for our family and infinitely more. He loved us so much, he gave his life for us on the cross. He suffered beyond description. Why? To save us from an eternal destiny too horrible to describe. And once you come to believe that—no, not just believe it, but accept it, live it, breathe it!—then you are willing to endure anything, do anything, give everything in return as your way of saying thanks to him.”