The Work and the Glory (114 page)

Gently he turned the figure over. There was a faint moan. “Heaven help us,” Heber exclaimed softly, “it’s Brother Nathan.”

“God is in this storm”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

T
he river was more beautiful than anything Lydia had ever seen. It came cascading down from the heights of the verdant mountains, its waters as clear as the finest of European crystal. And everywhere, its waters enriched the land around it. There were lush meadows, carpets of wildflowers, trees and shrubbery of every kind. She longed to tarry in this beautiful place, but as always, she could not. The path was clearly marked and she knew it well, for she had walked it numerous times before. Something always prodded her on, even though with each step the dread began to grow.

As she rounded a bend, there stood the mighty oak tree, just as she knew it would. It was magnificent, standing there in solitary splendor, its trunk so massive that five men could not link hands around it. Beneath its spreading branches the air was cool, the grass like velvet. Again she longed to pause, to rest and partake of the oak’s beckoning shelter, but the unknown something drove her on.

The other trees came into sight one by one as she walked on. Here was a mighty conifer, as tall as ten buildings would be if stacked one on top of the other; then came a shimmering birch, a mighty chestnut, a delicate maple, a more slender black willow. Each was resplendent in its own right, and each provided its own degree of refuge.

Her feet were moving faster now, against her will, and the landscape changed as quickly. The meadows and parkland gave way to sagebrush and dry, brown prairie grass. Then even that gradually thinned until there was nothing but the starkness of a vast desert. A dust devil danced off in the distance. Part of the rib cage of some animal long since dead lay half-buried just off to her right. Here the river was no longer a torrent, but spilled out of its channel and began to flood out across the broad plain. In moments the parched ground swallowed it up and there was nothing left.

She turned, as she always did at this point, filled with inexpressible horror. And even as she turned, the desert spread outward, faster than the eye could follow, shriveling grass, shrubbery, vegetation. Her beloved trees were transformed into silent skeletons silhouetted against the brazen sky. The river became a dry, rock-strewn channel, with only a few stagnant pools here and there. The mountainside, which moments before had been green and lush and beautiful, was now a barren crag, as bleak and lifeless as was the desert.

With a moan, Lydia fell to her knees and began to sob uncontrollably.

“Mama! Mama! Wake up!”

Lydia awoke with a start. Little Joshua was on his knees beside her on the bed, shaking her shoulders. He was half crying. “Please wake up, Mama.”

She looked around wildly for a moment, then sobbed in relief as she recognized the outlines of her bedroom in her parents’ house in Palmyra. In the soft moonlight, she could see Emily standing in her crib, wide-eyed, whimpering softly. Joshua sat back, relieved now, sniffling back the tears. “Are you all right, Mama?”

She reached out and swept him into her arms, hugging him fiercely. “Yes, Josh, I’m all right now. Get Emily.”

As she took her daughter in her arms and began to rock her back and forth, trying to soothe her, the door to the bedroom opened. Her mother stood there with a candle in her hand. “Lydia?”

“Yes, Mama?”

“Are you all right? I heard you cry out.”

“I’m fine now, Mama. I’m afraid I also woke the children.”

Hannah McBride watched her daughter for a moment. “Was it the dream again?” she finally asked.

Lydia was unable to suppress a shudder. “Yes. It was the dream again.”

It was the second day of August, not quite a full month from the day they had left Clay County and started east. Nathan stood for a moment in front of his father’s house and felt a lump well up in his throat. Beside him stood his sister-in-law, Jessica Roundy Steed, and her two-year-old daughter, Rachel. Night had fallen more than an hour before, and in Kirtland there was no one about.

He turned and lifted a hand to the three men who were moving on up the street. “Thank you, Brother Brigham. Thank you for a safe journey home.”

Brigham, his brother Joseph, and their longtime neighbor and friend Heber C. Kimball all turned. “Thank you for traveling with us,” Heber said. “You can put your bedroll in my tent anytime you wish, Brother Nathan.”

“Thank you all so much for your help with Rachel,” Jessica said. She spoke wearily, but with much emotion. “I couldn’t have made it without you.”

“You bring that little lady around to the house when she gets rested,” Joseph Young said. “I’d like the missus to meet her.”

“I will.”

They lifted their hands and trudged on, eager to reach their own homes.

Nathan turned to Jessica and smiled. “Are you ready for this?”

She brushed a hand nervously across her hair, then pulled at the skirt of her dress. “No,” she finally said, “I think I’ll go back.”

He laughed. “Come on, you’re going to love my family.”

He walked to the door and rapped sharply, then stepped back and swept Rachel into his arms. There was a sound inside, the scraping of a chair, then footsteps coming across the floor. Nathan found his own heart suddenly beating a little more quickly.

The door opened and a large figure stood in the frame. The light was behind him, so his face was in shadow, but even then Nathan could see the eyebrows suddenly shoot upwards as he fell back a step.

“Hello, Pa.”

“Nathan?” It came out as a shocked whisper.

“Yes, Pa. We’re back.” He reached out and brought Jessica forward. “Pa, this is Jessica Steed, your daughter-in-law. And this is Rachel.” His voice broke, and he had to swallow quickly. “She’s your granddaughter.”

“You have such beautiful hair, Rachel,” Rebecca cooed as she ran the brush through it again and again.

Rachel looked up and gave her head a little toss, making the dark curls bounce and dance in the lamplight. She beamed proudly. She had always been loved, but in Missouri she had never been pampered. During the last fifteen minutes, she had been pampered shamelessly.

“So,” Matthew said eagerly, watching as Nathan finished a slice of bread smeared with butter and raspberry preserves, “did you get to fight, Nathan?”

Nathan looked up, his face suddenly grave. “No, Matthew, we didn’t have to fight. The Lord fought our battles for us.”

“But Joseph said the Lord withdrew his command that you save Zion.”

“He did.” Now his eyes dropped completely. “We weren’t worthy of it.”

Mary Ann watched her son with anxious eyes. Though there was a great joy in him at being home again, there was also a deep melancholy. There was so much she wanted to ask, so much to learn, but she sensed that it wasn’t the time yet.

Nathan turned to his father. “When did Joseph get back?”

“Day before yesterday.”

“So you know about what happened?”

“Only in the broadest detail. There’s a meeting this Sabbath. Joseph promised to give a full report.”

Nathan stood wearily and looked at his mother. “Thank you, Mother. That should sustain me enough to get me through the last two miles.”

Both father and mother suddenly looked at each other. Matthew looked away. Rebecca’s hand froze with the brush in midair.

Nathan was too tired to notice any of it. He turned to Jessica. “Lydia is going to be so anxious to meet you. We’ll come back into town tomorrow.” He turned to Rachel. “And you, you’ll get to meet your cousins.”

Benjamin stood slowly. “Nathan?”

“Yes?”

“Lydia’s not there.”

Nathan jerked up sharply. “What?” Then he nodded. “Oh, is she staying here in town somewhere?”

Benjamin shook his head slowly. Nathan just stared at him, not comprehending. Mary Ann stood and walked to the small china hutch she kept in one corner of the room. She opened it, took out an envelope, and walked over to her son. “Lydia’s still in Palmyra, Nathan,” she said quietly. She handed him the envelope and turned away. “Come, children,” she said, “let’s find a place for this little girl and her mother so they can go to bed and get some rest.”

My dearest Nathan,

If you are reading this letter, then you must now be in Kirtland and know that I am still in Palmyra visiting at the home of my parents. How it saddens me that I am not there for your return. How I wish I were, not only to see you again—something for which I long most desperately—but so we could speak face to face about the situation and not through a letter.

Little Joshua and Emily are doing fine. They are the apple of their grandparents’ eyes and they have been spoiled greatly. They love Palmyra and have made many friends here. Last month Papa purchased Joshua his own pony and he is already learning to ride with ease. He is so proud and eager to show you his accomplishments.

I am not quite sure how to put into words my own situation. Coming to Palmyra has been wonderful for me. I am revived in spirits in many ways, and have rejoiced to have my time filled with activities so that my thoughts are not always of you. I suppose this largely explains my reluctance to return to Kirtland. I know not how long it shall be before your return. I cannot bear the prospect of returning to an empty house and an empty life.

I received a letter from Melissa. She told me about being with child again. I am so happy for her. I miss her and your family very much. Will you tell them that? Please tell them that my staying in Palmyra has nothing to do with them. They have been more than wonderful to me and I love them as I do my own.

Papa still has many bitter feelings about Joseph Smith and the Church, but he has softened much. A few weeks ago I even took the children to the small branch of the Church that meets in Manchester Township, not far from here. Papa would not drive me, but he did not forbid it. Mother has told him that he cannot be too rigid.

I hesitate to mention this next thing, but it is something to consider, and perhaps telling you of it now will give you time to carefully think about it before we meet again. Papa is growing older and speaks often of what will happen to the store when he can no longer run it. Mother and I have spoken much of this, and your name has been discussed between us several times. To my amazement, when Mama talked to Papa about it, he did not reject the idea. He loves the grandchildren dearly, and it would mean he would not be alone in his old age. And while you and he differ on religious matters, he knows you are a good worker and a man of integrity.

I have warned him that if we ever did move back to Palmyra, he could not seek to restrict our choices in matters of religion. I think he can accept that. Now that Joseph has moved away, much of the tension towards the Mormons has disappeared. I know that it would mean your being away from your family, but travel between here and Ohio improves all the time. The financial remuneration would be much better from the store than from farming, and we could better afford to travel to see your parents from time to time.

I know you will have many questions and concerns about this matter, but don’t dismiss the idea immediately. I shall most anxiously be awaiting word from you, dear Nathan. The moment you return to Kirtland, post me a letter, so that I can know of your safe return. Until then, may the Lord keep you safe and bring you home to us again. For this I pray continually.

All my love,
Lydia

“You look wonderful, Melissa.”

She leaned back, patting the protruding roundness of her stomach. “You always were more kind than you were honest, Nathan.” They sat in Melissa’s kitchen together. It was the first Nathan had been alone with his sister since returning to Kirtland.

“No, I mean it. You look great. Are you happy?”

Melissa nodded instantly. “Yes, I am.”

Nathan gave her a sharp look. The answer had come a little too quickly. “That’s good. Carl is a good man.”

She smiled. “I think so too.”

Nathan knew he should let it go, but he wanted to know. “Is he showing any interest toward the Church?”

She looked away, and Nathan felt a deep sadness sweep over him. “Is he fighting you on it?” he asked quietly.

Melissa shook her head. “Not really. His father has turned quite sour against the Mormons. Carl still lets me do what I want.”

“But he doesn’t really like it?” Nathan guessed.

Again there was the quick shake of the head and the sorrow in her eyes.

Nathan decided to change the subject. “What do you think of Jessica?”

Melissa immediately brightened. “She’s wonderful! I think it will take some time to really get to know her, but I like her.”

“She’s much more of a private person than you or me,” he agreed. “She’s been through a lot.”

Melissa nodded, then pushed aside the tray that held the plate of cookies and the pitcher of milk. She leaned across the table, putting a hand on his arm. “Will you tell me about it? About Missouri? About Joshua?”