He straightened, took a deep breath, and turned back to the bridge. He reached out and laid a hand on Matthew’s shoulder. “But thank the Lord, there are many of those who do follow counsel. And you’re one of them, Matthew. Before he left, Captain Averett told me that it would have taken him twice as long to build the bridge without your help, dear brother.”
“Well, that’s hardly the case,” Matthew started, “there were a lot of good men who—”
There was a sudden twinkle in Brigham’s eye. “Are you suggesting that Captain Averett was not telling me the truth?”
Flustered, Matthew stammered a little. “Well, no, I . . .”
Brigham laughed heartily. “Then just say, ‘I’m glad I can be of service, Brother Brigham.’ ”
“I’m glad I can be of service, Brother Brigham,” Matthew responded meekly.
“Thank you. So am I.” Smiling, he started to turn away, then stopped. His hand lifted, pointing toward a wagon that was just starting to cross Shoal Creek. “Say, isn’t that the Hendrickses’ wagon?”
“Hendrickses?” Matthew said, turning. “I don’t think I know them.”
“Sure you do. James Hendricks and his wife, Drusilla?”
Matthew started to shake his head.
Brigham motioned for Matthew to follow as he strode away. “Come on. Enough of this gloomy talk of people who won’t follow counsel. I want you to meet some who do, even when they have good reason not to. This will be something that will cheer and lift up both of us while you’re waiting for your family to arrive.”
“Tell me again who this is and why we are going to see them.”
They were picking their way carefully through the campground, watching for puddles or those patches of ground that seemed to be only damp but which often proved to be a thin crust of drying soil over two or three inches of thick prairie mud.
Caroline looked at Joshua. “James and Drusilla Hendricks. We knew them—or rather, I knew them—in Nauvoo. Remember when your mother formed the Steed family women’s council a few years back to help those in need?”
“Yes.”
“Well, Sister Hendricks was one of those we helped from time to time.”
He shifted the sack of flour that he carried on his shoulder so its weight was more comfortable. “And why this sudden urge to go see them?”
“Matthew said he and President Young saw them crossing the bridge today.”
“Oh.” There was a wry look. “And will we be visiting all of the families that crossed over the bridge today?”
She smiled sweetly. “No. Just the Hendrickses.”
“But . . .” He wasn’t really fighting her on this, he was just curious. He had come back from getting water from the river. Matthew was there, talking to the family about a visit he and Brigham Young had made. The moment Joshua came up, Caroline had grabbed him, found a sack of flour and a slab of bacon, and insisted they make a visit before supper. “Why them?”
“You’ll see,” she replied. “Once you meet them, I don’t think you’ll have any more questions.”
Drusilla Hendricks was outside her tent preparing supper over a small fire. Four children—three girls and a boy, ranging in age from about eight or nine into their teens—were working with her or around the wagon, still unpacking some of their things. A half-erected tent was near the wagon. As they approached, the tent abruptly straightened and Joshua saw another son, a young man of about sixteen or seventeen, behind the tent, tightening the guy ropes. The young man reached down with a small sledgehammer and tapped on one of the tent pegs. Then he walked to the other side and began to tighten that as well.
Mrs. Hendricks looked up at the sound of their footsteps. They were coming from the west, and the sun was low in the sky. She brushed a tendril of hair away from her eyes, squinting against the light. Then, recognizing Caroline, she smiled broadly. “Sister Steed! What a pleasant surprise!”
Caroline walked swiftly around the fire, set the bacon slab on the wagon tongue, then gave the woman a warm hug. “How are you, Drusilla? I was so pleased when Matthew told us you had come into camp today. I wanted to come see for myself.”
“Wonderful. It was so good to see Matthew again. What a fine young man he is. Brother Brigham seems to have great confidence in him.”
“Yes. We’re glad we got to see him before he had to leave. President Young has assigned him to be with the advance company.” Caroline turned to Joshua. “I don’t know if you have ever met my husband, Joshua.”
Joshua swung the flour sack to the ground and stepped forward, hand outstretched. “Pleased to meet you.”
“And I you,” Drusilla said with an appraising smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
He shot Caroline a look, then grinned easily. “Yeah, I’m the difficult one in the family.”
Caroline looked startled by that, but Sister Hendricks picked up on it smoothly. “Oh no. That’s not what I mean. And it didn’t come from your family. You were talked about quite a bit around town, actually. I heard about how you helped your family build their homes when we first moved to Nauvoo. I heard about your venture in the pineries, and the piano you bought for your daughter after her death. I also heard about your stable burning down and you losing all your money.” She laughed lightly, shaking his hand once more before letting it go. “Yes, I’ve heard a lot about you.” Then, seeing his embarrassment, she turned to look at the flour and bacon. “What is this, Caroline Steed?”
“Oh, just a little extra we thought you might be able to use.”
“Extra?” came the quick reply. “I know better than that.”
“We’ve got enough,” Caroline said. “We want you to have it.”
There was a sudden shining in Drusilla’s eyes. “Thank you.” Then, to hide her emotions, she turned and called the children to her and introduced them to Joshua and Caroline. The last to come over was the older boy, who had finished putting up the tent.
“This is my son William. He’s what keeps us all going.” She reached out and ruffled his hair as he colored at the praise. “Don’t know what I’d do without my William.”
Joshua shook his hand and was pleased to feel the firmness of it. The boy looked like his mother, with dark hair and open features. Like many of the older boys on the trail, William was doing the work of a man. Now Joshua thought he understood the reason for their visit. Drusilla Hendricks was a widow. With that realization, any feelings he might have had about begrudging her the food instantly disappeared.
But he was wrong. William stepped back. “It will just take me a minute, Mama, and I’ll have the bed in place. Then we can help get Papa into the tent.”
“All right,” Drusilla said. Then, noting Joshua’s puzzled look, she said, “Come over and meet my husband.”
As William got a straw-filled mattress and a blanket and ducked inside the tent, Drusilla moved toward the wagon. She walked around to the back of it, with Joshua and Caroline close behind. There the wagon flaps were drawn back and Joshua could see a man lying on a bed. His head came up as they appeared.
“James, you remember Caroline Steed, don’t you? And this is her husband, Joshua.”
“How do you do?” The man nodded, reaching out to grip the side of the wagon and pull himself up. To Joshua’s surprise, it was a major effort and he made it only partway up.
“James, wait a moment. William will be right here.”
He nodded and lay back down, puffing a little from the effort. Joshua tried not to stare.
Sensing his puzzlement, Drusilla smiled at him. “I don’t know if Caroline told you, but James had a terrible accident back in Missouri.”
“I didn’t,” Caroline said. “But I would like him to hear the story.”
Drusilla turned to her husband. “Tell him what happened, James.”
But before he could do so, William appeared. “Are you ready, Papa?”
“Yes, son. Help me up.”
The boy climbed into the wagon beside his father, then put one hand beneath his back and with the other took his father’s arm. Again James Hendricks gripped the side of the wagon. With his son’s help he was able to get up to a sitting position, though Joshua saw that William had to pull hard to help get him there.
Drusilla reached in and tucked a pillow behind her husband to help support him. “Joshua and Caroline brought us some flour and some bacon,” Drusilla said as she brushed his hair quickly with her fingers.
“I heard,” James Hendricks said softly. “Much obliged.”
“We’re happy to do it, James,” Caroline said. “How are you holding up?”
“Well, actually,” he said with a brief smile, “better than I thought. Sometimes the ride can get pretty rough, but we make do.”
Drusilla was watching Joshua’s face. “I understand that you were shot during the battle of Far West, back in 1838.”
That caught Joshua by surprise. “Yes, I was.”
“Do you remember the Battle of Crooked River that took place a few days before that?” Drusilla asked.
Joshua thought for a moment, then shook his head.
James picked it up. “Some of the Missouri militia had kidnapped three of our brethren and were taking them back to Jackson County where they threatened they would kill them. Brother Joseph sent a group of us out to rescue them.”
Caroline broke in now. “You’ve heard Nathan talk about this, Joshua. He and Matthew rode with them that night.”
“Oh, yes,” he said, clearly remembering now. He just hadn’t made the association with the name of Crooked River. “This is when you overtook them just at dawn?”
“That’s right,” James replied, his eyes hooded and distant now. “The sun was in our eyes and we barely saw them. One of the picket guards saw us coming and opened fire. We fired back. It lasted no more than a few minutes, but when it was over, one of our men lay dead and two others mortally wounded.” There was a long pause. Then his eyes refocused on Joshua. “I took a ball in the back of the neck.” He looked down at himself. “I was paralyzed from the neck down.”
Joshua didn’t know what to say. From the neck down? And he was out here on the trail, headed for the Rocky Mountains?
William smiled brightly at his father. “But he’s doing so much better now, aren’t you, Pa?”
“I am.” He reached for a cane and began to scoot toward the edge of the wagon. “For a long time, Drusilla had to do everything for me—wash me, bathe me, feed me.” There was a deep love in his eyes as he looked at his wife. “I’ll bet she had to lift me twenty or thirty times a day. And as you can see, she is not a large woman.”
“It had to be done,” Drusilla said simply, looking back at her husband with that same love in her eyes. “But God has been good to us.” She turned to Joshua. “First of all, William is old enough to be a great help to me now. Also, about a year following the wound, James was able to stand by himself. Now he can move around slowly with just a cane.”
“Very slowly,” he said proudly, “but after my lying motionless in bed for nearly a year, we take that as a small miracle.”
He was to the edge of the wagon box now. Drusilla and William stood beside him, one on each arm, and helped him down.
“Can I help?” Joshua offered awkwardly.
“No, I’m fine,” James replied.
“Your bed is all ready, Pa,” his son said, steadying him on one arm as he started forward.
As James made his way toward the tent, wife and son walking beside him, Joshua saw that he was able to make his own progress, but it was pretty shaky. Now finally Joshua understood. Drusilla Hendricks was not a widow, but as far as having a man to take her west—drive the wagon, pitch the tent, cut firewood, round up oxen, or do the hundred other things that were part of the daily regimen—she might as well have been.
“We won’t stay,” Caroline said. “We’ve got to get back and start supper too.”
Drusilla nodded. “Thank you again for your generosity and kindness,” she said.
“Yes, we certainly do thank you,” James said.
“You are more than welcome,” Joshua replied without hesitation. “If there is anything else you need, you let us know.”
As they made their way slowly back to their own campsite, Joshua was deep in thought. The image of the pale, thin man walking hesitantly toward his tent was a vivid picture in his mind.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Caroline said.
He turned to her. “I can’t believe it. They’re out here? How can they possibly get by?”
“That’s why I wanted you to meet them. If ever there was a woman who will be sainted, it is Sister Drusilla Hendricks. She’s not much bigger than a willow slip, but for the last eight years she’s provided for her family, cared for her husband. William is finally old enough now to help, but back in Nauvoo, William was only ten. Can you picture lifting James over and over, day after day? I watched her do it one day. I could tell it took every ounce of her strength.”
“But why did they come west? This is insane!” He was deeply troubled by what they had just seen. A good part of what disturbed him was the happiness in Drusilla’s eyes. There was no self-pity, no bitterness at the fate that had dealt this kind of a hand to her.
“Because they believe it is the Lord’s will for them,” Caroline answered quietly.
“You think the Lord expects that?” he exploded. “The man can barely hobble. Surely the Lord would forgive him if he just said, ‘It’s too much.’ ”
“I’m sure he would. That’s not the point.”
He blew out his breath in exasperation. “I know how you people feel about doing what is right. But . . . Wouldn’t it have been wiser to stay in Nauvoo until we at least know where we’re going?”
She looked at him in genuine surprise. “Wiser? How do you mean?”
That frustrated Joshua all the more. “At least they would have a home, some protection.”
Caroline was looking at him strangely. “Why didn’t you think it was wiser for me to stay back there?”
That caught him from behind. “Because . . . Well, I was worried.”
“Do you think that the enemies of the Church would take pity on James because he is a cripple?”
He started to nod, then stopped. If they didn’t take pity on women and children—something he himself had been unwilling to do—then a crippled man probably would not be much different. “But this has got to be so hard for them.”
“Let me tell you about Drusilla, about how she has managed to get along without a husband to be the breadwinner. She doesn’t like to talk about herself, but one night while we were visiting in their home, your mother pulled this out of her. When she finally got to Nauvoo after getting James out of Missouri, she had only fifty-six dollars. With that she rented a house, bought two bedsteads, four chairs, five falling-leaf tables. She kept one of the tables for herself, gave one to Brother Lewis for helping them move to Nauvoo. She sold two to Sister Emma Smith for some provisions.”