“Yes, she was hoping to break us apart. That’s why I have refused to even consider it. But my aunt runs a girl’s school. She wants me to come there for a year and stay with her.”
“A year?” he said, his face falling.
“Yes. I love Boston and I’ve wanted to go back for so long. But I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you. But now, if you’re going to be gone too…”
He was nodding, finally understanding. “When would you go?”
“In about a month.”
He smiled. “But that’s not much sooner than I have to leave.”
“I know,” she rushed on. “It’s perfect. If I say no to this, Mother will probably fight to send me to New York City again. Even Papa is pressuring me to accept.”
She tipped her head back and kissed him quickly. “The thought of being away from you for that long makes me want to weep, but if you were gone and I were still here, I couldn’t bear it. And I really would love to go.”
Nathan was nodding now, his mind racing. “Mr. Knight said he needs help all through next year. If I could come home just long enough to help Pa with the spring planting, I could work all summer. By next fall I could earn enough to pay off the mortgage free and clear.”
“I’ve always wanted a fall wedding,” she murmured. “Or any other month you ask me.”
He pulled her close. “A whole year.”
Tears welled up unexpectedly in her eyes, as the reality of going that long without seeing him hit her. “I know. But when it’s over, then…”
He kissed her, first with infinite gentleness, then suddenly with a fierceness that took her breath away.
“When it’s over, then no more being separated ever again.” He touched her nose. “And if your mother doesn’t like that, she can just find herself a daughter who falls in love with the right person to begin with.”
“She already did,” Lydia murmured happily. “She already did.”
Chapter Eighteen
The Susquehanna River has its headwaters in Otsego Lake near Cooperstown, New York, home of one of America’s early novelists, James Fenimore Cooper. Fast-moving, shallow, and rocky, the river was not suitable for shipping, a significant loss considering it moved through the heartland of what would become one of America’s most industrialized regions. From Otsego Lake the river moved southward, dipping briefly into Pennsylvania before making a giant loop back into New York, past Binghamton and almost to Elmira before dropping down again into Pennsylvania and on to Chesapeake Bay.
Nathan Steed sat on the wagon seat alongside his employer, Joseph Knight, Sr. They were moving steadily southward on the road that led from Colesville, New York, to Harmony, Pennsylvania. The road paralleled the Susquehanna River the entire distance, though for much of the way the river was hidden from view by the thick stand of trees and undergrowth that lined its banks.
It was a beautiful day in late May of 1829. The previous three days had been rainy and overcast, but this morning had dawned bright and clear, the air scrubbed perfectly clean by the previous day’s showers. Now Nathan could feel the sun beating on the back of his shirt, and he reveled in the pleasant warmth.
“We’re almost there.” As Nathan came out of his thoughts, Mr. Knight raised an arm to point. About a quarter of a mile ahead of them, the road turned gently right, or to the west, forced to that course by the sweeping bend of the river. “Harmony Village is just around the corner. Joseph and Emma live less than half a mile west of there.”
Nathan nodded, finding himself suddenly eager to see Joseph again. Twice Joseph had been to Colesville to see the Knights and Josiah Stowell, but one time Nathan had been on business for Mr. Knight, the other he had been back in Palmyra helping his father with the spring plowing and planting. So he had not seen Joseph since the previous summer.
From the Knights he had learned that after a period of repentance and humbling himself, Joseph had once again received the plates from the angel Moroni and the translation had resumed. He was eager to talk with Joseph and learn more of the details. A few days earlier, Mr. Knight had received word that Joseph was again in need of provisions if the work on the translation was not to cease while he was forced to find work. Immediately Knight purchased a wagonload of supplies—grain, potatoes, some writing paper—and packed it all into a wagon. Nathan was elated when Knight invited him to come with him to help unload the wagon.
Nathan glanced at the older gentleman sitting next to him on the wagon seat. There weren’t many finer men than Joseph Knight, Sr. “It’s a good thing you’re doing, Mr. Knight,” Nathan said. “A good thing.”
Knight looked away, embarrassed. “Don’t want Joseph to have to stop the work in order to keep his family in food.”
Yes, thought Nathan.
It’s that simple, isn’t it?
And that was one of the things that made Joseph Knight the man he was.
“How did you come to first believe in Joseph?” Nathan asked. He had wondered that many times, but his natural tendency not to pry had held him back. Now it seemed an appropriate time.
Mr. Knight seemed surprised for a moment, but then smiled slowly, remembering. “Well, Joseph probably told you about his treasure hunting days with Josiah—Mr. Stowell.”
“Yes, but he never gave much detail, only said he was involved.”
“Well, Josiah often went north into the Finger Lakes area to buy wheat and flour, then sell it in New York City.” He chuckled. “Made a handsome profit at it too. Anyway, Josiah had some map that supposedly showed the location of some treasure buried by the Spanish explorers. He got quite exercised about the notion of finding buried treasure.”
“Spanish treasure up this far?” Nathan asked dubiously.
“Oh, the country was full of such tales,” Knight said. “I never could get as excited about them as Josiah did. But anyway, on one of his trips to Palmyra he began hearing tales about this boy who had found some gold plates. People said he had magic powers. Josiah immediately sought him out for help.”
“Joseph told me that he told Mr. Stowell he had no special powers.”
“He did,” Knight said, nodding. “That’s exactly what he said. Said he had no magical powers at all. But Josiah was so impressed with his honesty, he offered him a job anyway. His pa too. This was in the fall of ’25.”
He stopped, and looked perplexed for a moment. “What was your question again?”
“I was wondering how you and Mrs. Knight came to believe in Joseph.”
“Oh yes.” He smiled sheepishly. “Polly says I’m starting to lose my memory. I say I just get concentrating too hard on other things.”
Nathan smiled. “That’s a good answer, if you ask me.”
“Well, anyway, that’s when I first met Joseph. Like Josiah, I was impressed with his honesty and his forthrightness. He was a good, hard worker. Minded his own business. Always cheerful.”
Nathan was nodding.
“He finally prevailed on Josiah to stop searching for treasure. Said it was of no use. That impressed me too. He could have just kept taking Josiah’s money. Heaven knows the Smiths needed it at that time. But Joseph wouldn’t do such a thing.”
He flicked the reins absently and clucked at the horses. “I hired Joseph in the fall of ‘26. By then he and Emma were courtin’ quite serious like and he wanted to stay close.” He looked suddenly pleased with himself. “In fact, I furnished him a horse and sleigh so he could go down to Harmony and see Emma.”
“So when did you learn about Moroni and the gold plates?”
“Don’t remember exactly. One night he told us all about it. I guess by then he trusted us.” He nodded solemnly. “We trusted him too, Polly and me. It was just that simple. When he told us, we knew it was true. Never doubted it once.”
“And you’ve been helping him ever since.” It was not a question.
The older man shrugged, a little embarrassed. “ ‘Taint hard to help in the Lord’s work,” was all he would say.
Nathan nodded again, then fell silent, glad to be beside a man like this. And glad to be on his way to see Joseph again.
Emma saw them first. She was behind the small frame home, hanging clothes on the line. As the wagon pulled into the yard, she looked up, squinting a little into the noon sun. Once again Nathan was struck with what a handsome woman she was. Her features were clean and evenly sculptured, her dark hair and eyes giving her a sense of gravity which was quickly dispelled when she smiled. She did so now as she recognized them. She dropped back into the basket the shirt she was holding and came quickly toward them.
“Mr. Knight,” she exclaimed, wiping her hands on her apron, “what a pleasant surprise! And Nathan, how good to see you again! Joseph said you were still in Palmyra.”
He swung down and took her extended hand. “I was until just a week ago. But Pa and I finished the spring planting and so I’m back. I’ll be with Mr. Knight most of the summer.”
She turned, extending her hand to Mr. Knight, who had gotten down now as well. “And how is Mrs. Knight and the family?”
“Just fine. Polly sends her best to you and Joseph.” He smiled. “And some of her blueberry muffins as well.”
Emma laughed lightly, tossing her head so her hair bounced brightly in the sunshine. “She is a most wonderful lady. Please return our thanks.”
A little embarrassed, Knight half turned to the wagon. “We brought a little something for you and Joseph.”
Emma stepped to the wagon and instantly her eyes filled with tears. “Dear Mr. Knight,” she cried softly. Her hand went out to touch a barrel. “You have done so much already.”
He was suddenly gruff. “Wouldn’t want you to be suffering, now, while Joseph continues the work.”
For a moment they all three stood silently, as Emma fought back her emotions. Nathan had not seen her since that night in the Smith home. He thought now of what she had been through since then. As they had approached Joseph’s home, Mr. Knight had silently pointed to the little cemetery which lay about sixty or seventy yards from the cabin. A fresh gravestone marked the site of Emma’s firstborn. Joseph had told Nathan that Emma had nearly lost her life as well. As he looked at her now, he could see she had lost a little weight and her face was more drawn and pale than it had been when he last saw her, but somehow it made her seem all the more lovely. She and Joseph made a striking couple.
“And how is Lydia?” Emma asked, brightening again. “Joseph said you are engaged.”
“Yes.”
“That’s wonderful. She is a fine young woman.”
Nathan nodded and smiled, but with a touch of sadness. “I think so too. What I can remember of her.”
“Go on with you, now,” she chided, smiling warmly. “The time is nearly passed. A few more months and then you two will be together again.”
The door behind them flew open and Joseph burst out. “Mr. Knight!” he cried, and in two strides he was to Knight and clasping his hand. He looked in the back of the wagon. “Once again you have driven the wolf from our door.”
Joseph Knight simply shrugged. “It’s little enough I can do.”
“The Lord bless you for it. Thanks in part to you the work moves along swiftly now.”
He swung around, his energy as boundless as that of the sea. “Nathan! What a pleasant surprise!” His grip as he took Nathan’s hand was like that of the dockhands on the canal. “I thought you were still up with your father.”
“Just returned a few days ago.”
“Your family?”
“Well, thank you.”
Emma turned to her husband. “I’ll be putting some dinner on, Joseph. As soon as you have the wagon unloaded, it should be ready.”
“All right. Tell Oliver and Samuel to come out.”
A moment after she entered, two figures appeared at the door of the cabin. Nathan instantly recognized the nearer one. It was Samuel Smith, Joseph’s brother. About two years younger than Joseph, Samuel was about a year older than Nathan. Though Nathan had not been around him much, what he had seen he liked. More garrulous than Joseph, Samuel seemed to take life with a grin. He liked people and people quickly liked him. It was also obvious there was a strong bond between Samuel and his older brother.
Nathan raised a hand and waved and Samuel waved back. Joseph turned to them and motioned them to come over. “Oliver, you’ve already met Mr. Knight, but come and meet another of the fine men of the earth.”
Nathan smiled. From someone else it might have sounded like fawning praise, but from Joseph it came out as guileless as if from a child. He truly meant it.
As they walked up, Nathan watched Oliver closely. He was close to Joseph’s age, though he was dramatically shorter, no more than about five feet five inches, Nathan guessed. But he had a pleasant bearing. His forehead was high, and thick dark hair combed back and away from the forehead only emphasized the narrowness of his face. A full Roman nose, prominent chin, and thin lips gave an impression of sobriety, but that was instantly dispelled by his ready smile and the dark brown eyes which crinkled around the corners when he did so.
Joseph turned to Nathan. “This is a good friend from Palmyra, Oliver. Nathan Steed, meet Oliver Cowdery.”
They shook hands. The grip was not as crushing as Joseph’s, but it was firm and sure. “Nathan, I’m pleased to meet you.”
“It’s good to see you again, Nathan,” Samuel said, reaching out to shake hands.
“And you as well,” Nathan responded warmly. “I didn’t realize you were down here. How are your parents?”
“Fine thank you for asking.”
“Samuel’s been a blessing to us,” Joseph said. “He’s always quick to help.” He turned to Cowdery. “And the Lord sent Oliver to me to serve as scribe,” Joseph declared.
Nathan noted that Oliver seemed a little startled at Joseph’s open reference to the translation work. Joseph evidently saw it too, for he laughed and clapped Oliver on the shoulder. “There is no worry with either of these two, Oliver. They are strong supporters.”
He turned back to Nathan and Mr. Knight, sobering. “Oliver has learned very quickly that Satan is opposed to this work. The rumor makers are once again active and igniting the fires of hatred and persecution against me. A few nights ago we were visited by an ‘official’ delegation.” He pronounced the word
official
with soft derision.