The Work and the Glory (250 page)

Read The Work and the Glory Online

Authors: Gerald N. Lund

Tags: #Fiction, #History

He shook his head slowly, wanting so much to help Joshua understand. “You yourself are living proof of the power of love. Can’t you see that, Joshua? Christ gave his life for all mankind. Can we as Saints do any less if we love him in return?”

Joshua was staring at Nathan. Nathan forced a quick smile, a little embarrassed by the passions that had stirred him to speak with such fervor. “You asked. That’s the answer.”

“I understand,” Joshua said slowly.

“Do you, Joshua?” Nathan said. “Do you really?”

Joshua started to nod, but then suddenly the image of a row of bodies—men and boys—stretched out along the ground in Haun’s Mill flashed into his mind. There was no looking down your nose at that kind of commitment, but in his heart Joshua still could not fathom feeling that strongly about God or one’s church. He shook his head slowly. “No, I guess I don’t, Nathan. I guess I never will.”

* * *

Julia Montague took the stairs of the plantation house two at a time, even though the long, silken skirts dragged three steps behind her. As she burst through the door and into the sitting room, she had to stop and lean against the wall for a moment to catch her breath.

“My goodness, Julia,” Caroline said, coming out of her chair in alarm. To see Julia walk briskly was enough to signal that something was terribly wrong. In nearly ten years of friendship, Caroline had never seen her run.

“Caroline,” she gasped, “come quickly!”

Caroline walked swiftly to her and took her hand. “What is it, Julia? What’s wrong?”

Julia’s bosom rose and fell as she pressed one hand against it. “You have a”—there was a quick gulp for breath—“a visitor.”

Now it was Caroline who lost her breath. She fell back a step. “A visitor?” she stammered. “But who—” Then her eyes widened. “Is it a man?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, no,” she cried. “Where are Livvy and Savannah?”

“They’re out in the pecan orchard with Abner and the servants.”

Caroline looked around wildly. “We must hide. Did you tell them I was here?”

Suddenly Julia understood. “No, no!” she exclaimed. “It’s not those men who are after you. It’s one man. And he says he is Joshua’s brother.”

Caroline’s head stopped swinging and turned to stare at Julia. “Joshua’s brother? You mean Nathan?”

Julia nodded, still trying to steady her breathing. “That’s what he said. He said he must talk with you.”

“Nathan?” Caroline said again, her mind not comprehending. “In Savannah? How can that be? Are you sure it’s him?”

Julia gave her a quizzical look. “How would I know that? He called you Caroline and asked after the children.”

Caroline’s mind was racing. Nathan? All the way from Missouri? She shook her head. That was impossible. But what if the men who had followed her to St. Louis had somehow tracked her here as well? That seemed nearly as improbable, but then she remembered the newspaper articles about the Mormon Danites. They took a blood oath, it said, and would follow their enemies to the ends of the earth if necessary. Posing as Nathan might be just a ploy to get her out of the house.

“Julia, what did he—” Then she stopped. She realized she had never seen her would-be assailants. A description wouldn’t help very much.

“I asked him to wait outside,” Julia was saying. “It was very rude of me, but I was so shocked when he said who he was. He said it was most urgent that he speak to you.” She wrung her hands. “Oh, Caroline, I’m sorry. I never thought that it might not be him. What shall I do?”

Caroline whirled and strode to the window that faced the front of the house. She slowed her step as she reached it, moved to the side, and then pulled the curtain back a little. There was a black covered carriage with a single horse. A man was standing at the door of the carriage, with his back to her. Then, even as she peered at him, he turned around and looked up toward the house. She dropped the curtain and fell back a step. “It
is
Nathan,” she said, looking at Julia in wonder. She was instantly weak with relief.

Julia was at her side now. “Thank heavens,” she gushed.

But then Caroline was jolted by another thought. How did Nathan know to come here? Suddenly she stiffened. She had gone to some effort to leave no trail of her movements. That meant that the men who had tracked her to St. Louis had reported back to the Mormons.

Slowly, bitterness welling up inside her like a boiling kettle, she moved over to the sofa and sat down. There was no other way that he could know she was here. And if he knew, then chances were that others knew as well—others like the men who had burned her house to the ground.

The disappointment was like a blow to the face. She had lost a husband and a son. She needed time to rest and heal. The thoughts of having to leave again—and go where?—were shattering. There were no more places of refuge. No other friends who might take her in and shelter her.

Julia had come toward her, puzzled and anxious at Caroline’s sudden change in demeanor. “Shall I bring him up?” she asked tentatively.

Caroline’s lips pressed into a hard line. “No.”

Julia had started to turn toward the door. Now she jerked back around, staring.

Caroline made up her mind. “Julia, would you please tell him that I do not wish to see him. I appreciate him coming all this way to inquire about my health. But tell him that everything is fine and that I would prefer not to see him or anyone else of his faith.”

“Are you mad?” Julia cried. “He’s your brother-in-law. He’s come two thousand miles—”

“Make sure he has something to eat and enough money for return passage, but under no circumstances will I—”

Caroline turned sharply. There was a sound on the stairway that Julia had ascended a few moments before. The sound was that of footsteps on the stairs. Caroline raised a hand, as if to shut the door from where she sat, but it was too late. A dark shape filled the frame.

“Hello, Caroline.” His head turned. “I apologize for coming in uninvited, Mrs. Montague, but I saw Caroline at the window. I was afraid she might refuse to see me.”

Caroline stood slowly, rigid as a brass bedpost. “I’m sorry, Nathan, but I would prefer not to speak with you.”

“We got your letter. I understand how you feel.”

“How could you?” she cried. “Your people killed Joshua, and now they’re trying to kill me. And you’ve probably led them right to me.”

He stepped inside the room and removed his hat. “I have something to tell you, Caroline.”

She shook her head and turned away. “I don’t want to hear it!” Then more softly she added, “Please, go away. Tell Mother and Father Steed I’m sorry. Maybe after some time has passed . . .”

She heard him cross the room toward her. She lifted her arms and hugged herself tightly. “Please, Nathan,” she pleaded. “Don’t make me fight you. Just leave me.”

“Caroline, listen. It wasn’t our people who shot Joshua. It was two Missourians, the same two men who came to your house and told you he was dead.”

She half turned, her face registering her surprise.

“Yes, Obadiah Cornwell told us the whole story. But those are the men who set fire to your house. It wasn’t Mormons. And those two men are also the ones who shot Joshua.”

She turned slowly, anger starting to rise. “You’re forgetting one thing. They left me a note, remember? And it was signed by your people.”

“No, they signed our names, but it was those men who did that to you. It was those men who followed you to St. Louis.” He took a breath and finished quietly. “It was those men who shot Joshua and left him for dead.”

She was too weary to fight him. “It doesn’t matter now, Nathan. It won’t bring anything back. But I’m sorry, I can’t feel the same toward you and your family anymore.”

He brushed that aside as if she hadn’t spoken. “They wanted to get even with Joshua because of what he did.” Then swiftly, but quietly, he described that terrible day in Far West. He spared nothing. He talked about the mob let loose on an undefended town. He told of the Steed women and children put in a root cellar and Peter’s terrified attempts to hold the men back when they discovered the hiding place. He described Jessica’s being struck with the butt of a gun, Rebecca’s terror as she became the target of the ugliest kind of lust.

In spite of herself, Caroline’s arms slowly dropped to her side and she turned fully to watch him, a look of horror filling her eyes. It never entered her head to question whether he was telling her the truth. There was too much pain, too much revulsion on his face to have it be something made up to win her over. Julia stood frozen by her side, as shocked and horrified as Caroline.

“But,” Caroline broke in, “those men never said anything about seeing Joshua in your father’s cabin.”

“Exactly!” Nathan answered grimly. “The whole story they told you was a pack of lies.” He took a breath. “Joshua killed one of them, and drove the other two out of the cabin. He got Mother and the others to safety. Then he realized that once those men told the rest of the militia what he had done—that he had shot one of his own men, trying to protect the Mormons—they would come after him. He also knew that you and the children would be in terrible danger the minute word reached Independence. It was while he was trying to get out of the city and back to you that they shot him. In the back.”

She jerked away, biting her lip. “Don’t!” she cried softly.

He reached out and turned her so that he faced her, peering into her eyes. “It went clear through his body and out his chest.”

Her head dropped and tears sprang to her eyes. “Please, Nathan!” she begged. “I can’t bear it.”

To her amazement, he smiled. It was soft and filled with tenderness and love. “It’s no wonder they thought he was dead,” he mused, half to himself. “He certainly looked dead. Even the family who found him thought he was.”

Caroline’s head came up slowly as her eyes widened. Nathan’s smile broadened. “Should have been too. A ball through the lungs would have killed any other man.”

“What are you . . . ?” She faltered, not daring to believe what her ears had just heard. “Do you mean . . . ?”

Julia Montague was gaping at Nathan now too.

“I mean, my dear Caroline,” he said, taking her hand, “that those men who came and told you that Joshua was dead were wrong. Even they don’t know that. But they were wrong. He was terribly wounded, but he did not die. Your husband is still alive.”

Caroline’s other hand shot out and grabbed Nathan’s arm. Her fingernails dug deeply into the flesh. Her lips were moving but nothing came out as she stared up at him. Suddenly Nathan’s eyes were filled with tears too, and he reached out and swept Caroline into his arms, pulling her to him in a crushing hug. “It’s true, Caroline,” he whispered into her hair. “We’ve been trying to find you now for almost a month to tell you.”

She pulled free, brushing at her eyes. “But where?” she whispered. “Where is he?”

Nathan couldn’t help but laugh aloud. “He’s downstairs in the carriage. He was afraid that if he just showed up on your doorstep it might be too much of a shock for you. And I’m sure he’s wondering what in the world is taking me so long to get you out there to him.”

“In the carriage?” Caroline repeated dumbly. “Are you sure?”

Half laughing, half crying, he turned her around and gave her a gentle shove. “I’m sure. Now, get yourself down there and see for yourself.”

* * *

It was evening now, and they were sitting around the great round table that filled the dining room of the Montague plantation. Savannah was snuggled into her father’s arms, where she had been for the last hour, amazingly content to sit quietly, looking up from time to time into his face to make sure it was still her papa who held her. Olivia sat at Joshua’s right elbow, her arm firmly through his. Though her eleven-year-old mind understood that he was safely back with them, like Savannah she seemed fearful that if she let him go he might disappear again.

Caroline sat between Joshua and Nathan, one hand resting lightly on Joshua’s bad leg. Her fingers kept tracing small patterns on his trouser leg. Though her face was troubled now as they discussed what to do about Will, she was still radiant with joy at the wondrous thing that had befallen her. Abner and Julia Montague sat across the table, content for the moment to watch and listen as the family debated their options.

The afternoon had passed swiftly for Caroline and Joshua and dragged interminably for Nathan. Husband and wife had sat in the carriage together for nearly an hour, letting Caroline make the transition from numbing grief to stunning joy. Then they had set out for the great pecan orchards that lay behind the plantation house to find the children.

While they waited, Julia Montague told Nathan about Will. It was a crushing blow. The family had been found, but not reunited. The quest was not complete, and Nathan’s frustration came back in one great rush. Thankfully, Julia left him to himself and went to see to dinner. He paced the house, restless to the point of distraction but unwilling to rush Joshua through the sweetness of being with his family again. However, the moment they had returned to the house, Nathan gathered them all around the table to discuss their course of action.

“He’ll head for St. Louis,” Joshua said flatly. “That’s the last place the two men were seen, and that’s where he’ll try and pick up their trail.”

“And what if he finds them?” Caroline asked, her face stricken. She was still torturing herself over whether she had done right in providing him the funds to leave.

“Those men will be long gone by now,” Joshua said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. If Hugh and Riley had followed Caroline to St. Louis, there was a good chance they wouldn’t quit as easily as he hoped they would. “The question is, how do we find Will?”

Caroline had thought this through already. “I think we all agree that he has gone to St. Louis. When he gets there, or he’s probably there now, what will he do?”

“Go to Samuelson,” Joshua said quickly.

“Who’s Samuelson?” Abner Montague asked.

“One of my business partners in St. Louis,” Joshua answered. “He helped Caroline when they were there. Will knows him too.”

Other books

The Horseman's Bride by Elizabeth Lane
Falling Blind: The Sentinel Wars by Butcher, Shannon K.
Heartless by Mary Balogh
Murder on a Summer's Day by Frances Brody
Unbearable (Undescribable) by Tessier, Shantel
Loser by Jerry Spinelli
The Magic Cake Shop by Meika Hashimoto
Surrender by Sophia Johnson