Now Jean Claude was dumbfounded. A full partner? An owner? He had never made the mistake of allowing himself to get into financial bondage again, but over the years he had saved little of his earnings. Some of them went back to France; most of it was consumed just living. “Ah, monsieur.”
“Joshua,” Joshua corrected him firmly. “From now on, it’s just Joshua. All right?”
“Yes, m— Joshua. But this is far too generous.”
“It’s how I work, Jean Claude. So far it’s not ever proven me wrong.” Then before Jean Claude could protest further, he changed the subject. “Now, there’s one other thing.”
“Yes?”
“I know I need an experienced man to stay in camp, but I’m also very worried about getting those rafts downriver. I’d like you to come with us to Nauvoo.”
His eyes widened. “But—”
“You can come back up immediately thereafter. I think the Swede can oversee the camp for that long, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course. But Joshua, this is wonderful. Will has told me so much about Nauvoo, how beautiful a city it is.”
“Yes, it is.”
“I have wanted to go, but did not dare to ask.”
“Then it’s done,” Joshua grinned. “Let’s call it settled.”
“Ah,” Jean Claude sighed, still unable to believe his good fortune. “Will has told me so much about your church and your Joseph Smith.” He pronounced it Yo-sef Smeeth. “I never dreamed that I might actually have the chance to meet him.”
Joshua’s eyes were suddenly hooded, but in his enthusiasm Jean Claude did not notice the change. “The Mormons in the other camps? I have been much impressed. They are inexperienced lumberjacks, but good men. And they care for one another. That is a strange thing in a lumber camp.”
“Will’s been talking to you about the Mormons?” Joshua asked, with forced casualness.
“Ah, yes, we have talked about it many nights.” He looked suddenly ashamed. “My family in France, we were all Roman Catholics, of course. Alsace-Lorraine is strong Catholic country. But since coming to North America, I fear I have not paid much attention to religion. It has been heavy on my mind these past few years. And this church of yours sounds very interesting.”
“I’m not a Mormon,” Joshua said shortly.
“Of course, I know that. I didn’t mean to suggest . . .”
Joshua waved that off, leaning forward, deliberately keeping his voice level. “Will isn’t either. Did he tell you that?”
“But of course. But now that he has decided, he will become one after you return to Nauvoo, no?”
“He’s decided?” Joshua asked slowly.
Something in Joshua’s eyes must have alerted Jean Claude, for the Frenchman was suddenly guarded. “He has not told you this?”
Joshua started to shake his head, and then snapped his fingers. “Oh, yes. He came to a decision while I was gone, I think.”
Jean Claude was immediately relieved. “Yes, it happened just before you returned from Nauvoo.”
Joshua stared at him. He had gone down to La Crosse a week ago. The thought had occurred to Joshua that maybe Will’s decision had come then. They were in a wild race to finish getting the trees they had downed to the mill and ready for the raft. There had hardly been time for him and Will to talk at all. But if Will’s decision had been made while Joshua was in Nauvoo, that was at least two months ago now.
Two months!
He was aware of Jean Claude’s puzzled expression now. He smiled to cover the tightness in his stomach. “Did my brother talk to you about the Church while he was here? He
is
a Mormon.”
“Nathan? No, not at all.”
“And Will? He’s not been trying to force this religion stuff on you, has he?”
There was a short bark of laughter. “Ah, no. Just the opposite. I am the one asking questions all the time.”
Joshua stood abruptly. “Well, I won’t keep you.” He reached across the table and shook the Frenchman’s hand. “Then the foreman thing is settled?”
“Yes, Joshua. And thank you.”
“No, thank
you,
Jean Claude.”
Jean Claude gave a curt nod and turned on his heel. As he reached the door, Joshua called after him. “By the way, I need to talk to Will. Where is he right now, do you know?”
“He’s about half a mile up Roaring Creek cutting timber with the Webster brothers.”
“All right. I’ll send someone for him if I need him.”
Jean Claude went outside, stopping to breathe deeply in the spring air. As he rounded the corner of the building out of sight of the window to Joshua’s office, he slammed the palm of his hand against his forehead. “
Quel dommage!
” he exclaimed. “Ah, Will,
mon ami,
my friend, my friend. What have I done?”
Will was surprised to see his father striding toward them through the trees. He was making the undercut on a smaller tree, working alone while the two brothers were a dozen or so yards away, working together on a much bigger tree.
Will lowered his ax and waved. “Pa! I’m over here.”
Joshua turned in midstride, making a straight line for Will.
“This is a surprise,” Will said, pulling a large bandanna from his pocket and wiping his forehead.
There was the briefest of nods, and then Joshua turned toward the other two men. “Hey, you two.” They were working on the back cut with a two-man saw. They stopped and looked in Joshua and Will’s direction. “I’ve got to borrow Will for a while. When you finish with that one, take this one down too.”
The older brother waved and they went right back to sawing.
Stepping away from his tree, Will shouldered his ax. “What is it, Pa?”
Joshua jerked his head and started off without a word. Puzzled by the cold abruptness of his manner, Will followed. They moved silently through the trees for almost five minutes, going deeper into the forest. When they were clearly out of earshot of the other men, Joshua stopped and turned. As Will came up, he saw the planted feet, the rigid jawline, the crackling eyes. He lowered the ax and set it against the nearest tree, then straightened slowly, looking squarely at his father. “Care to tell me what this is all about?” he asked quietly.
For several seconds, there was no response. But Will could see that his father was breathing deeply, fighting for control. Then it came. “Would
you
care to tell
me
about your decision to join the Church?”
It was as if Will had just plummeted over Black River Falls in a canoe. He just stared at his father, stupefied.
“I see,” Joshua said after a moment. “And did Nathan baptize you too while I was safely out of the camp?”
“Nathan?” Will shook his head. “I haven’t been baptized yet, Pa, I—” And then he understood. “You think it was Nathan who convinced me?”
It didn’t even register. Joshua went on, his voice rising sharply now. He was almost raving. “I leave you two alone for a few weeks so I can go see to things at home and what happens? No wonder Nathan was so eager to come over to our camp and stay with you.”
“It wasn’t Nathan, Pa.” Will was feeling a little dizzy now, still reeling from the suddenness of the realization that his father knew, and rapidly sensing that he had made a terrible mistake in not telling him before.
“Right!” It came out with heavy sarcasm. “And it wasn’t your mother who encouraged you. And it wasn’t Grandpa Steed who got his licks in every chance he got. Oh, no! It wasn’t anything like that, was it?”
That cut deep and Will lashed back. He laughed softly, sadly, derisively. “It’s always that, isn’t it, Pa?”
“What?”
“It’s always somebody else’s fault, isn’t it? It never occurs to you that I might do this completely on my own.”
“Yeah. And I suppose Jenny had nothing to do with it either.”
Will stopped in surprise. “Jenny?” Then his mouth pulled back into a tight line. “Jenny who, Pa?” he asked.
Joshua looked at him as if he were daft. “Jenny Pottsworth, who else?”
“It’s not Pottsworth anymore, Pa. If you remember, it’s now Jenny Stokes.” Then he was very tired. “No, Pa. Not Jenny. Not Nathan. Not Mama. Me! Just me! Sorry that you don’t think I’m capable of that, but it’s only me.”
Joshua’s head swung up and his eyes were blazing. “Don’t you get smart with me, mister.”
“Oh,” Will flung right back at him, “so it’s mister now, is it? Now that I’ve decided to become a Mormon, it’s no longer Will or son. Now it’s mister.”
“A son of mine would have the courage and the integrity to come to me and tell me about this before I learned it from someone else.”
“Pa, I wanted to tell you, but things were going so well up here for us, I thought—”
“No!” Joshua shouted. “You didn’t think! You didn’t care.” He flung one hand out. “You didn’t care enough to even face me and tell me the truth. And now you’re trying to sell your bag of beliefs to Jean Claude. Well, I won’t have it, Will. Do you hear me? I won’t have it!”
“Jean Claude?” Will repeated dumbly.
“Yeah, that’s right. He let it slip. Let it slip that you’ve been feeding him all this tripe about Nauvoo and Joseph Smith.”
“I’ve answered questions that he has, that’s all.”
There was an explosion of total disgust. “Don’t, Will! Save your excuses for Nathan and the family. Personally, I’m sick of all the lying and the deceit.”
Joshua spun around and started away, took only three steps, then whirled back again. “Well, I was planning on taking Frenchie south with us on the rafts, but not now, I’ll tell you. Not now.”
The sickness in Will was shoved aside by flaring, white-hot anger. “It must be a terrible burden for you,” he shot back, “protecting all the world from the evil influences of Mormonism.”
That hit home and Joshua rose up to his full height, his jaw jutting out. But Will rode right on, giving his emotions full spur now and the devil with the outcome. “You want to know why I didn’t tell you?” he cried. “Because I knew it would be just like this. It doesn’t matter what I believe. It doesn’t matter that I found that answer totally on my own. No, you can’t accept that. Being a Mormon is something so awful that you can’t face it. And so yes, I was afraid to tell you. You had me cowed, just like you have Mama cowed.”
Joshua came stalking back, his fists clenching and unclenching, his eyes dark with fury. Will tensed, sure he was coming to strike him. In spite of his desire to stand his ground, he fell back a step in the face of what was coming.
“Cowed!” Joshua roared. “I’ve told your mother she can be baptized any time she chooses. She’s the one who says she’s going to wait.”
Will hooted right into his face. “Only a dolt could be that blind.”
Joshua’s left hand shot forward, grabbing the front of Will’s jacket. The other hand cocked back, fist doubled.
Now Will didn’t flinch. “Is that what you did to Jessica when she wouldn’t cheat for you at poker, Pa?”
Joshua froze, the fury suddenly laced with pain.
Will leaned forward, sticking his face out, daring Joshua to strike it. “Or maybe you ought to take a bullwhip to me like you let someone do to Nathan,” he said contemptuously. “That’s another way of handling things, isn’t it?”
The fist dropped, the hand released his coat. Joshua stepped back, staring at his son—staring through his son—his eyes filled with a look Will had never seen before.
“You know not of what you speak,” Joshua said in a hoarse whisper.
“Oh?” Will said, close to tears now. “You told me, Pa. Remember? That day when the other kids beat me up in school, you told me about Jessica. You told me about turning your back on Rachel.” His voice strangled now, and what followed was half a sob. “She was your baby, Pa.”
“That was a long time ago,” came the reply, in a voice that sounded far away.
“Was it? Then why don’t you do something for Rachel now? You act like she isn’t even your child. You finally let her be first with the daguerreotype, but only because I said something to you. You give Savannah and Olivia all those beautiful things every time you come back from a trip. Why don’t you ever, ever do something for Rachel?”
Joshua turned away from him, as though Will were no longer there. “We’ll be starting to put the rafts together tomorrow,” he said in a dull voice. “I want you to help Jean Claude with that.”
Will stared at him in amazement. “What?”
He stopped, but didn’t turn. “I’ve changed my mind. Jean Claude will be going with us to Nauvoo. We need his experience, taking all that lumber down the Mississippi.”
He started on again, moving into the trees. “Pa!” Will shouted, crying now in rage and frustration. He didn’t slow his step. “Pa, when we get back, I’m going back to sea again.”
There was a moment’s hesitation, and then he strode on, disappearing from Will’s view.
Black River, Wisconsin—Sunday, 6th March
Dear Nathan,
This will be just a quick note, but I thought I’d better write it now so it will reach you in time for you to alter your plans. The cutting of timber continues to go well here in the camp. Jean Claude is guessing that the Mississippi should be clear enough to raft on by the 2nd or 3rd week of April. We plan to start sending the smaller rafts downriver to La Crosse around the 5th of April. That should take about a week. Then at La Crosse we’ll tie them together into one big raft that we can take down the Mississippi.
But what I wanted to say to you was that I think it is not necessary for you to come back up here to help us. I know we talked earlier about needing your help, but I’ve asked Jean Claude to accompany us and we should be fine. You have been away from your family enough for one season. We’ll see you when we arrive in Nauvoo.
Joshua
Joshua laid down the pen and sat back. He read the letter again, picked up the pen, leaned over to make an addition, then changed his mind. Instead, he blew on it until the ink was dry, then folded it and wrote Nathan’s name and address on the outside. He took the candle and tipped it so that a drop of wax sealed the fold shut. Then he tossed that letter aside and took another sheet.
The second letter was considerably longer than the first, taking almost two full sheets. When he finished, he read it over, scratched out a duplicate word, and corrected the spelling on another by writing over it twice. When the ink was dry, he folded the two sheets together and sealed them shut with another splotch of candle wax. He picked up the pen again and wrote the address in bold letters: