Lydia laughed with obvious pleasure. “You know the little Carter boy?”
“Yes.”
“He and Emily are good friends. The other day I caught her standing before the mirror, looking at herself in a new dress. ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘Daniel is going to just love me in this.’ ” She laughed and shook her head. “That’s at a little over four years. I can imagine what it will be like when she’s sixteen.”
“Where are little Joshua and Nathan?” Emma asked.
“Rebecca’s watching them. I had to get some things from the store. I tried to talk Emily into staying too, but she wouldn’t hear of it.” She took a step forward and bent down to look into the pram. There was a bundle of blankets there, but nothing else showing. Emma reached down and pulled back the top layer. Frederick G. Williams Smith was sleeping, his round little cheeks touched with pink from the cold.
“He is so precious, Emma,” Lydia said. “And big. For four months old, he’s really a husky young man.”
“He’s going to have his father’s build, I predict,” Joseph said proudly.
Emma tucked the blanket back around the baby’s face, then they started walking again slowly, Joseph pushing the pram. He looked at Lydia. “Any word from Nathan and Benjamin?”
“Yes, we got a letter last week. They found Jessica and Rachel up north in a small settlement there. They said they were going to try and build a small cabin for her and Rachel with a small shed out back for Matthew. They said it would take about a week, then they’re going to start back.”
“Matthew’s doing a good thing,” Joseph said. “Jessica needs a man there to help her.”
“I know. Mother Steed misses him fiercely, of course, but we all feel so much better knowing Jessica and Rachel won’t be alone, especially with winter coming on.”
“When was the letter dated?”
“October eighth, I think.”
“So they could be home soon.”
“Yes. Mother Steed thinks toward the end of the week perhaps. They are going to take the steamers most of the way, so it shouldn’t take them nearly as long to get back.”
“Wonderful.” Joseph seemed really pleased. “We are going to have a meeting next week, on the second of November. We’ll be drawing up the articles for the Kirtland Safety Society.”
“The Kirtland Safety Society?”
“Yes, our bank,” Emma explained.
“Oh.”
Joseph stopped in order to free his hands from the pram. Lydia had to smile at that. He always loved to punctuate what he was saying. “We are really excited about this, Sister Lydia. Our financial problems are too complex for simple solutions. But this bank should help immensely. That’s why I need Benjamin here. And Nathan too, of course. All the brethren are coming. But I especially need Ben’s talents and his good judgment.”
“Well, I’m certainly hoping they make it by the first of the month.”
They were approaching the crossroads now and passing by the hotel. Two men came out of the side door to the inn. They were bundled up against the cold, collars pulled up around their necks and half hiding their faces. One had a pipe in his hand. They were laughing loudly, as if one had just told a joke. They did not particularly look like very fine gentlemen. Joseph had been about to speak, but the sight of the two men made him hold off.
As the men came out to the road, they came face-to-face with Lydia and the Smiths. The man with the pipe slowed his step, leaning forward to peer more closely at Joseph.
“Good mornin’ to you,” Joseph said pleasantly.
“Joe Smith, ain’t it?” the man boomed.
“Yes. And who might you be?”
The man guffawed, slapping his companion on the shoulder and pulling him to a stop. “You know who this is?”
The other man made a long face and shook his head slowly. Then he couldn’t hold it any longer and burst out laughing as well. “Why, isn’t this the Joe Smith who goes out lookin’ for buried treasure?” He stepped directly in front of Joseph and Emma so as to block their way, leering at Emma.
Lydia saw Emma tense. She felt her own heart suddenly start to race a little too, suddenly glad she had sent Emily on ahead. Joseph took Emma’s arm with one hand and moved forward, steering the pram so that the first man had to step out of the way quickly or be struck. “Hey!” he cried angrily. “Watch where you’re going.”
“I was watching,” Joseph said mildly, without bothering to turn around.
The second man stepped aside as the women brushed passed him. He cackled wildly. “You ladies going down to help ol’ Joe here dig up that chest of treasure?”
“Come on, Garth,” the first man cried, slapping at his companion. “You know there ain’t no treasure here in Kirtland. Only in Salem, Mass.” That was followed by another burst of laughter. It was a raw sound, like that made by dragging something metal over a washboard.
Joseph’s step slowed, and his mouth pulled into a tight line, but Emma quickly slipped her arm through his and kept him moving. They were past the two men now and did not turn around to give them the satisfaction of a response. But the men hadn’t moved on. They got in a final shot. “Watch out for them pirates, Joe. They might not like you taking all their hidden gold.”
Again the cackling laughter rang out across the snow.
“Joseph,” Emma said quietly, “pay them no mind.”
His shoulders lifted and fell. Finally he nodded, but he remained stiff and tight-lipped as they crossed the street and entered the Newel Whitney store.
* * *
“Brother Joseph?” Lydia said.
He turned to her. They were on the porch of the store now. Joseph had the baby in his arms while Emma finished the last of her purchases inside. Emily was a few steps away, drawing patterns in the snow with her boots.
“You can’t let what those men said bother you. You went to Salem with good intentions. So what, if it didn’t work out? If you hadn’t gone, you would always wonder.”
He smiled, the blue eyes showing his gratitude. “I know.”
“So pay them no mind. They are crude men. What do they know about the things of God?”
That brought his head up, and his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “It’s funny you should say that.”
Lydia was puzzled. “Why?”
“What do
I
know about the things of God?”
Flabbergasted, Lydia could only stare at him.
He laughed, a deep pleasant sound in his chest. “Oh, I didn’t mean it that way.” He sobered. “You know, Sister Lydia, about a year ago—in fact, it was a year ago next month—a man came to visit Kirtland. He was from the East. Someone introduced me to him. When he heard my name he was surprised. He stared at me for a moment, then remarked that I was nothing but a man.”
“What did he think you were?” she asked in surprise.
“Well, he had supposed that a man who communed with God should look different. I’m not sure what he had in mind.” He began to walk slowly back and forth, rocking the baby gently in his arms. “Some people seem to forget what the Apostle James said, that the prophet Elijah was a man subject to like passions as we are, even though he had such power with God that, in answer to his prayers, the Lord shut the heavens so that it did not rain.”
Lydia wasn’t quite sure where this was leading, or how to respond.
Now the inner hurt was evident on his face. “It’s not just the nonmembers who are being critical about the fact that I found nothing in Salem. You’ve heard the complaints, I’m sure.”
Now she understood, at least in part, what was bothering him. “I know, Joseph,” she said softly. “But you can’t listen to them either.”
If he heard, he made no sign. He had turned and was gazing up toward the bluffs, where the temple and the main part of Kirtland were. “I’m sure Benjamin has some of the same feelings too. He tried to talk me out of it. Several times. From the beginning he said it was foolishness.”
“Benjamin is Benjamin,” Lydia said quickly. “You know how practical minded he is. He’ll get over it.”
He sighed. “I hope so. Some of the others aren’t getting over it. They can’t seem to let it be. Martin. Warren Parrish. Even some of the Twelve.”
“Well, there are others that don’t believe you were wrong. Not for a minute.”
He looked grateful for a moment, then grew thoughtful again. “That’s what the Lord said too, you know.”
“What?”
“That it was folly.”
“He did?” That really caught her by surprise.
“Yes. While we were in Salem, I received a revelation.” He gave a self-deprecating little laugh. “It was most interesting how the Lord stated it. The revelation started out something like this. ‘I, the Lord your God, am not displeased with your coming on this journey, notwithstanding your follies.’ ”
He paused, shaking his head slowly. “Think about that. We had been foolish, but he was not
displeased
with us. That suggests he was not really pleased with us either.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Well, I’m not sure I do fully yet either. But I think the Lord was saying that he knew our hearts were right. He knew we hadn’t come there simply for our own personal gain. Also, there were other things he wanted us to do. He said that he had other treasures for us in the city. I assume by that he meant the people. And so he was not displeased.”
He gave her a long, searching look. “I had really prayed about this matter, Lydia. It was one of those times when I thought this might be the Lord’s answer. But I was wrong.”
Again he laughed, more at himself than at the situation. “That’s what I meant when I said I may not always understand the Lord’s ways either. In the revelation he reminded me that he too cares about our debts, that he too is concerned about the welfare of Zion. He seemed to be saying to me, ‘I know you’ve prayed about it. I know you’ve come here to try and find some money to solve your problems. But you’re trusting in the wisdom of man. Why have you forgotten me? Don’t you think I care about those debts? Don’t you think I care about Zion?’ ” He stopped for a moment, then more quietly concluded. “It is an important lesson, even for a prophet.”
“I see,” Lydia said, touched now by Joseph’s honesty and self-examination. “We all do that, don’t we? Trust in our own wisdom.”
“Yes, we do.” The baby stirred in its blanket, and so Joseph put him up on one shoulder and began to pat his back softly.
Behind them the door of the store opened and Emma came out, carrying a bag filled with her purchases. “Sorry, Joseph. Newel couldn’t find the one kind of thread that I needed.”
“We’re fine. Sister Lydia and I have been having a good talk.” He swung the baby down and stepped to where they had left the pram on the far end of the porch. “Come on, little fellow. Let’s go home.”
* * *
All the way back up the hill, Lydia was deep in thought about what Joseph had said. Finally she turned to Joseph. “I have a question. It’s related to what you were saying.”
“All right.”
“Sometimes that’s happened to me. I pray and pray and pray for something, but there doesn’t seem to be any answer. So I’m left to wonder. Is it because I’m not faithful enough to hear the Lord? Or is it because he chooses not to answer me?”
He smiled, somewhat sadly. “I have asked myself that very question on more than one occasion. Especially after the Salem experience.”
“And what answer did Brother Joseph find to that question?” Lydia said, laughing lightly.
“ ‘It is not meet that I should command in all things,’ ” he quoted softly, “ ‘for he that is compelled in all things, the same is a slothful and not a wise servant: wherefore he receiveth no reward.’ ”
Lydia was nodding. That was from the revelation Joseph had received shortly after he had arrived in the land of Zion back in 1831.
“And ‘men should be anxiously engaged in a good cause,’ ” Emma continued for him, “ ‘and do many things of their own free will, and bring to pass much righteousness.’ ”
Lydia’s face was wrinkled in thought. “So sometimes the Lord just wants us to act, without waiting to be told everything?”
“Yes,” said Joseph. “And that may be another reason why the Lord was not displeased with us. We went to Salem without waiting to be told exactly what to do to get out of debt. So even though we may have been a little shortsighted, he let us go, then used it as an opportunity to teach us an important lesson.”
“I see,” Lydia responded, her thoughts tumbling now with interesting new insights. Then she had a completely new thought. “Brother Joseph, there may be another reason for the whole Salem experience.”
“Oh, and what might that be?”
“A test.”
“Oh, it was definitely a test.”
“Not for you. For us.”
His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Explain.”
She took a deep breath, still letting the thoughts fall into position. “Let’s say Brother Burgess had been able to find the treasure and you had come back with a chest full of gold. Everyone would have hailed you as a prophet.”
Emma started, giving Lydia a strange look. “But when Joseph didn’t,” she said slowly, “when he came back empty-handed, even some of the leaders began to doubt. They’ve started to criticize.”
Lydia nodded, feeling a little chill. Her father-in-law was one of those who were doing that criticizing. And she knew that Martin Harris and others were just waiting for Benjamin Steed to return home so they could bring him into the growing circle of critics.
“A test for us?” Joseph mused. “That is a most interesting thought, Lydia. I should like to ponder more on it.”
Chapter Fifteen
The first day of January, 1837, dawned cold and wet and dreary over the town of Preston, England. The heavy fog which had rolled in off the Irish Sea during the night had lifted and become a steady drizzle. By afternoon the temperature had dropped, and the rain became half mixed with sleet. It was miserable weather to be out in, but the few people hurrying about gave it little thought. This was a typical winter’s day in the county of Lancashire. They expected no better.
Derek and Peter Ingalls hurried along under the gray overcast. Their shoes, wooden clogs worn with no stockings, made a sharp rattling sound against the cobblestones. Young Peter, twelve years of age, was shivering violently. He wore a ragged shawl over his narrow shoulders, but the wetness had penetrated through that and the thin coat beneath. Derek, about six and a half years his senior, wore only a thick woolen shirt. He was likewise wet and chilled, but he had grown used to the cold long before this and gave it little thought.