Alice turned over and sat up the moment the door opened. The light from the hallway put the figure in her doorway in shadow, but she recognized the bulky outline of her father immediately. “Papa?”
“Are you still awake?”
“Yes.”
He came in, walking slowly. For a moment he stood over her, looking down at her, his face still in shadows and unreadable. She slid over and patted the bed. He hesitated, and then sat down beside her.
“What is it, Papa?”
He looked away, and now the light from the open doorway fell on the profile of his face and she could partially see his forlorn expression. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but she wasn’t sure it was what he needed right now. So she waited.
“What did you and Will do tonight?” he asked.
“We went for a walk down by the river.”
“To pier seventeen?”
Alice started a little. “Yes. How did you know?”
“A wild guess,” he said dryly. “Had he ever taken you there before?”
“Yes, but he never told me why before.”
“Oh.” There was a long silence, and then, “Is he right?”
She didn’t have to ask what he meant. She knew full well the emotion behind that question. She took a deep breath. “Yes, Papa.”
“Is there nothing your mother and I can do to change your mind?”
She hesitated, wanting so badly to say what had to be said, but also wanting to say it in the right way. “Can I ask you a question before I answer?”
“Of course.”
“Grandpa Wilson was not happy when you asked him for Mama’s hand, was he?”
He turned and she could see his frown. “That’s not fair, Alice.”
She laughed softly. “I’ve been holding this argument back for just the right time.”
“I expected you would have used it before now.” He sighed. “But no, he wasn’t happy.”
“Why?”
“Because he was this big wealthy plantation owner, and I was the son of a cotton factor. A very successful cotton factor, but a cotton factor nevertheless. But”—he raised a finger and shook it at her with some vigor—“although he wasn’t happy, he did not forbid it.”
“And if he had?”
He sighed again. “I don’t know what your mother would have done.”
“I would have gone with you to St. Louis.”
They both turned as Judith Samuelson stepped into the room. She came over and sat down beside her husband.
“You would?” he said in wonder.
“I would have gone with you anywhere,” she smiled. “You were so bold, so impetuous, so determined to go on your own and make a fortune. Yes, anywhere.”
Walter reached out and took her hand and squeezed it. Then Judith turned to Alice and her face was stern now. “But I was not talking about going off after some wild religion, abandoning everything I believed in.”
Alice’s first impulse was to cry out against that. She was not abandoning what she believed in. Instead, for the first time, she felt that the things she believed in had taken on a more complete meaning now. But instead she turned to her father. “Is Will so horrible as all that, Papa?”
“Well, no . . . you know how we feel about Will. It’s just this Mormon thing.”
“Mama has never met any of the rest of the Steeds, but you have, Papa. Are they such horrible people?”
“Well, no, but . . .”
“No buts, Papa. Are they or aren’t they?”
“No,” he finally admitted. “They are fine folk.”
She said nothing more.
“So,” her father asked, “back to the original question. Is there nothing Mother and I can do to change your mind?”
She looked at both of them and tears welled up. If only they knew how dearly she loved them! But she slowly shook her head.
“What if we say yes to the marriage?” her mother asked. “Would you consider waiting for a time to become a Mormon?”
She started to shake her head again, but her mother went on quickly. “If once you’re married you still feel like this is what you must do, then . . .” She looked away. “We’ll say nothing more.”
“Mother, I know you think I am joining the Church only because of Will, but it’s so much more than—”
Her father cut in quickly. “It’s easy to fool yourself, Alice. What’s wrong with Mother’s suggestion? Once you’re married, if you still feel the same, then we’ll not say anything more.”
Alice leaned forward, wrapping her arms around her knees. Was that a reasonable compromise? Here they were offering reconciliation, and her spirit was soaring with that prospect. She wouldn’t have to lose them. There wouldn’t be this terrible, final severance. Could she bend a little? Would Will be disappointed in her? The questions tumbled over and over in her mind. And then she saw her father’s eyes, the hope and pleading in them, and she knew what it meant for him to have bent this far.
Finally she looked up. “All right, Papa. I’ll do this. You think it was just my being up in Nauvoo, under the influence of his family. But you’re wrong. I’ll not be baptized right now. If we wait for Will’s grandparents to return from Nashville, it will be late October, or even the first of November, before we can be married. I’ll wait until then. You can do everything in your power to try and convince me I am wrong. But if you haven’t been able to change my mind by then, I will be baptized before I marry Will. Is that fair enough?”
Her father drew in his breath, but his wife quickly laid a hand on his arm. “That’s a compromise, Walter.”
Finally he sighed. “All right, but you must promise to listen to what we have to say. I’d also like you to talk to the parson.”
Alice nodded quickly, for the first time her hopes rising that there might be a way out of this terrible impasse.
“Now, there’s one more thing.”
Her heart dropped. “What, Papa?”
“I know that a woman needs to go with her husband, wherever that may be.”
She felt a sudden tug of anxiety. “Yes, Papa?”
“I know that Will wants to take you back to Nauvoo.” He almost said, “And then he wants to take you to the Rocky Mountains with the rest of the Mormons,” but he resisted it, as much for Judith’s sake as for Alice’s. He took a quick breath. “You know that I’ve wanted Will to come here and work with me in the business.”
Her eyes were downcast. “Yes, Papa.”
“It’s not like that is such a terrible thing, is it? He’ll be handsomely paid. Then your mama will have you close for a time.”
“I don’t know if I can ask that of him, Papa.”
“I’m not asking for a permanent commitment. But will you give it a chance just until spring? Then if he still wants to go back to his family, we’ll not stand in your way.”
She searched his face. Is this why he was such a successful businessman? He knew when to compromise, but only enough to win, not enough to make serious concessions. The hope in Alice had died. Will had no interest in running her father’s businesses. He had no desire to stay in St. Louis. On the other hand, it would be nice for her. The thoughts of leaving her family had weighed on her heavily.
“Will you at least talk to him about it?” her mother asked. “Please, Alice? Just until spring?”
Finally she nodded, not meeting their gaze. “I’ll talk to him in the morning.”
“Good.” Her father stood, then bent down and kissed her on the top of her head. “If he will agree to that, there’ll be no more opposition from us.”
“All right, Papa. I’ll talk to him.”
He straightened and snapped his fingers. “I have an idea.” He swung around to his wife. “It’s not fair to ask Will to be married here without all of his family. Yet if we go to Nauvoo, our family and friends will miss it.” He reached down, put a finger under his wife’s chin, and lifted her head. “We’ll bring the whole Steed family down here.”
Both mother and daughter gaped at him, dumbfounded.
“Yes,” he rushed on. “I’ll charter a boat. We’ll have the wedding here, but we’ll bring the whole family. Everyone! That way you can be married with Kathryn and Peter. Their family will not miss anything. And Mother will get her wish to see her daughter married properly.”
Alice was spinning a little. “Are you sure, Papa?”
“Yes, yes!” He started to pace, his mind racing. “That’s the answer.”
“I’ll bet you Joshua would want to help with the cost,” Judith suggested.
“And I’ll let him,” Walter growled. “After all, he’s the one who convinced me to give in to all of this.” He turned to Alice. “What do you think?”
She was still half-dazed. “I . . . If Will thinks it’s okay, then that would be wonderful.”
“We’ll ask him first thing in the morning.”
As Walter Samuelson undressed and prepared for bed, Judith watched him in the mirror. She was brushing out her hair with long, even strokes, but her eyes were on him. He turned, saw that she was watching him, and stopped. “What?”
“I thought you were going to talk to her about going west.”
There was a quick shake of his head. “I thought about it.”
“Walter, I can’t bear the thoughts of her going that far away, into a trackless wilderness. I can’t!”
“I know.” He came over to stand behind her, and put his hands on her shoulders. “It will be all right.”
“How can you say that?” she cried. “Even Joshua says there is little doubt now about the Mormons leaving Illinois.”
“Undoubtedly they will,” he agreed. “But that’s not the point.”
“What is the point?”
“I’m fifty-four now, Judith. I’m getting tired. There are things I’d like to do, new places I’d like to see.”
She turned around to stare up at him. “What are you saying?”
“I think it’s time to think about retiring, Judith.”
She was flabbergasted. “Retiring?”
“Yes.” A slow smile stole over his face. “I’m going to use these next few months to let Will start taking over. Eventually—let’s say two or three years—he’ll have it all. We’ll have the income to do whatever we want, and he will become a very wealthy and successful young man.”
“I . . .” She shook her head. He had not said one word about any of this to her before.
“I don’t want him knowing my plans right now, Mother, but give me six months and I’ll convince him that he can be a millionaire by the time he is thirty.” There was a soft laugh and he squeezed her shoulders lightly. “Once he understands that, I don’t think we need to be worrying about him taking Alice anywhere. Do you?”
For a long time Will was silent. He stared out the window across the city, his brow furrowed. Finally, without turning to her, he asked, “What do you think, Alice?”
“I think I want to be with you. If that is here, that would be wonderful in a way. If it is in Nauvoo, that would be wonderful in another way.”
“And what if it is somewhere in the West?”
“So you believe it too,” she said, not with any bitterness, but with just a touch of sadness.
“Believe what?”
“That the only reason I’m joining the Church is because of you.”
He was instantly sorry. “No, Alice. I don’t. Of all people, I know what you’ve gone through. I’m sorry if I sounded like I feel that way.”
“Then isn’t that answer enough? If I am going to be a Latter-day Saint, and if Brigham Young says the Saints are to gather in the West somewhere, then I want to be with the Saints. I would feel that way even if we weren’t getting married.”
He moved closer to her, brushing his shoulder against hers. “How come all those times I was here, I thought you were just a good friend? How come I never thought of you as someone I would come to love?”
A tiny smile was playing around the corners of her mouth. “I could say something about diminished mental capacity or lack of good judgment, but wisdom dictates that I don’t.”
He took her by the shoulders and shook her gently. “You’re pretty cocky for a woman who’s here asking me for favors.” And then he sobered. “Did you know back then?”
She laughed softly at his earnestness. “Not right at first. Like you, I was glad to have it just be a friendship. Your father and my father were trying so hard to get us together.”
“I know. It was awful.”
“But I knew long before you did,” she murmured, her eyes softening. “And I was afraid for a long time that you might never come to know.”
He kissed her softly. “Like you say, diminished mental capacity.” Then he sighed, let her go, and turned back to the window. “So back to the question at hand.”
“Will, we made our decision. We said we would do what was best for us no matter what my parents said. So if you say no to my father and we go back to Nauvoo, I will support you completely.”
“I know you will, and I love you for that. But . . .”
He fell silent, his face furrowing as he considered what it would mean. She waited patiently, wanting him to sort it out completely before deciding.
Suddenly he straightened. “I’ll do it.”
“You will?” she asked in surprise.
“Yes. We also decided we would make every effort we could so that you didn’t have to break with your family. Six months working with your father is not a terrible price to pay.”
Her voice caught and she could only take his hand.
“Really,” he said. “If we do go west, this will be your last chance to be with your family. Maybe for a long time. And besides, earning some handsome wages in the meantime will be very helpful for us too.”
“You would do that for me?” she finally managed.
“And for them.” There was a sudden grin. “Contrary to what your father thinks, I am not totally without understanding of their feelings in this whole situation.” Then, as he began to consider what this decision would mean, he had a thought. “I can’t just stay here for the next six months, however. I have to go back to Nauvoo. I didn’t bring anything but one valise.”
“I hadn’t thought about that.”
Now his mind began to race. “Look, if we are going to spend the next six months here with your family, what if you go back with me until the wedding?”
“To Nauvoo?” she said in surprise.
“Yes. I’d like to have some time with my family. And Grandma and Grandpa Steed should be coming home anytime now. I want to see them before I go off for six months. If you come back with me now, we could be with my family for a time, then we can come back all together for the wedding.”
Alice bit her lip, thinking. “I like the idea, but Mama will want me here to get ready for the wedding—get the dress, all the other things that have to happen.”