The two laughed together, and Nannie realized she had stopped shivering. Levi smiled at her and said, “I am well acquainted with Brother Martin, who heads this company. I’ll inquire of him if there’s another shawl to be had.”
“Ye’d do that for me?”
“I would not want my future wife to be cold.”
Nannie blushed deeply, thinking she was so warm now that the snow would indeed melt when it hit her cheeks. She hoped Levi could not see her burning face through the falling flakes. “I’ve told ye I winna care to be a second wife.”
“There’s time for you to consider it further. We won’t reach the valley for days, weeks, maybe. I believe you’ve already given it some thought.”
He was right, although Nannie would not tell him so. She shivered, thinking it would be a long walk without a warm shawl. Perhaps she should encourage Levi so that he would find a cloak for her, but that struck her as almost as dishonest as stealing from a cart.
The sky was lighter now, and more Saints moved about the camp. Some stamped their feet and waved their arms to bring back the circulation. Others simply stood by the carts, confused and discouraged.
“Will we go aboot today?” Nannie asked, wanting Levi to stay with her, although she did not care to talk about marriage. She wondered then if Mormon men flirted when they courted their second or third—or seventh—wives. It seemed disrespectful to the others, but she supposed they all had to get used to it. Perhaps there were rules, some kind of etiquette that covered plural marriage. Who sat next to him at dinner? Who slept with him first when he returned from a trip? Who got the best dress? That last was easy to answer—the favorite, for despite the elders’ insistence that each wife was treasured, each wife equal, Nannie knew that a husband must prefer one over the others. If she married Levi, which wife would he prefer—Patricia or her? Or maybe there was another woman Levi was courting, one he loved more than either of them.
The women must try to curry favor with their husband, she thought, sacrificing to give him the choicest foods, dressing shabbily so that he might have fine clothes. Perhaps they lied about each other, charging other wives with bad behavior to gain his approval. Or perhaps the wives were friends, confiding in each other, supporting one another when the husband was cruel or unfair, laughing at his pompousness and faults. Maybe they shared the work just like sisters did, one cooking, the other mending, a third tending the children. That appealed to Nannie, although it would hardly make up for sharing a husband.
“Why would we not?” Levi said now, answering Nannie’s question about whether the company would travel that day. “We are safer moving along than lying about in the snow, where we could freeze.”
“Nannie?” She had not seen her sister come up, and she wondered if Ella had overheard the conversation with Levi. “Brother Levi,” said Ella, acknowledging him stiffly and tightening the blanket wrapped around her.
Levi bowed a little and said, “You will forgive me if I don’t remove my hat, Sister Ella, for I have little enough of hair to warm the top of my head.” She did not reply, only stared at him, until Levi said he must be tending to his fire. “My wife is ill. The snow drives the sick and the nervous mad, and it falls on me today to make a breakfast. I wonder if it will be eggs and a bit of meat or berries with clotted cream. Or perhaps a nice piece of fish or fresh bread toasted over the fire. Oh, to have to choose! Good day, Sisters.”
Nannie laughed, but Ella only stared her disapproval at Levi’s back as he disappeared in the snow. “I wonder ye can be civil to him, let alone find him amusing,” Ella said.
“He makes me laugh, and I’m in need of it.”
“Aren’t we all.”
“With new reason. My paisley shawl’s been stole. And the rice and coffee,” Nannie told her.
“Stole? Are ye sure, Nannie?”
“They’re gone. How else could they hae disappeared? We dinna throw them out.”
“Stole by a Saint? Who would hae thought such a thing? Oh, Nannie, how shall we survive?” Ella leaned against the wheel of the cart and put her hands over her face. “Perhaps it’s punishment for buying such at the fort. Maybe we should hae given your purchases to the elders to share.”
“No such a thing. Others bought for theirselves. I traded my brooch for the food, and as to the shawl, I deprived myself for weeks to buy it. I say find the thief and punish him. Her,” she added, thinking about the shawl.
“I hope we won’t be reduced to thievery ourselves,” Ella told her.
“Levi says he’ll find me another shawl, get it from the wagon, if they hae a store of things.”
“Why would he do that?”
Nannie looked down at her hands, which were raw from the cold and snow, wondering whether to confide in her sister. “Because Levi asked me to marry him.”
“Ye are saying he’s contrite for abandoning ye on the day of your wedding. Well, he should be, the scapegrace.”
“I mean he asked me again to marry him. He wants me for a second wife.”
“Och! In the name of mercy!”
Nannie smiled weakly.
“My lord, such a nerve he has! I hope ye told him to get straightened up. To think he could ask such a thing!” When Nannie didn’t reply, Ella asked, “Did ye tell him ye dinna care a button for him anymore, that ye’d prefer to be married to that old zealot in Florence than him?”
“I told him I dinna want to be a second wife.”
“And certainly not to the fantoosh Sister Patricia, who wears as many petticoats as an onion has peels! You would hae to fetch and carry for her, cook her food and blacken her boots,” Ella said loyally. “She orders Levi around as if she’s the head of his house instead of him. Hae ye had a chat with her? She has no thoughts in her head. Why, talking to her is like talking to an empty soup bowl. Little wonder it is he’s sorry he dinna marry ye. He’s had these many months to regret his foolishness. Oh, I’m glad ye told him nay.”
“Maybe I should consider him.” Nannie turned and placed her cold hands under the clothing in the cart. “I still care for him, Ella. And I’d be better off as Levi’s second wife than as the fourth wife of some Saint too old to give me satisfaction.”
“Who’s to say ye’d hae to marry with one?”
“It’s said such has the pick of the girls, and there’s not a thing a lass can do if she’s chosen. I dinna want a man with a long beard and a mouthful of rotted teeth.”
“Who has a long beard and rotted teeth?” Andrew asked, coming up beside the two women and putting his arm around his wife. “I hope ye are not talking about me. Did Ella tell ye she found a gray hair in my beard?”
“Not you—Levi,” Ella told him. Nannie put up her hands to stop her sister from saying more, but Ella added, “He wants to take Nannie for a plural wife.”
Andrew did not seem surprised. He stamped his feet in the cold and flung his arms around. “I figured as much, since Nannie is a fair girl and a few hae asked me about her.” The two women stared at him, and he nodded at the truth of what he’d said. “There’s others that hae claimed plural wives among the emigrants. They canna marry them now, but they hae only to arrive in the valley before the deed is done. It’s said the elders in Zion will be angry that the missionaries hae taken the best women for themselves. And Nannie, as ye know, is one of the best. They were supposed to bring all the women to the valley, where the leaders could pick amongst them.” He lowered his voice. “I heard one man call the women ‘fresh fish.’”
“That’s sinful,” Ella told him.
“Not so’s ye’d notice. Isnae that common sense? Look at the women that’s lost husbands on the way. Who’s to look after them if they dinna become polygamous wives? And what about the single women with no father or brother to care for them? It’s said any woman who arrives in Zion can expect to find a husband. I’d call it charity.”
“They’re most charitable toward the prettiest ones, I expect,” Ella said.
“They are men.”
“Are ye saying Nannie should accept Levi’s proposal?”
Andrew thought it over. “He is young and has a good head. He works hard and will be a good provider. And he is well thought of in the church. She could do worse.” He grinned. “But if ye say by no means will you wed with him, Nannie, then we’ll hae no complaint if ye choose to live with us forevermore in the valley.”
* * *
With the weather so poor, Jessie had thought they would stay where they were for the day, but Maud told her they’d be less likely to freeze if they were moving. Besides, there was nothing to be gained by remaining. They had to reach the valley before the snows worsened. Better they should make a few miles each day than sit in the tents shivering. Surely Brigham Young would send men and wagons to help them. Perhaps the wagons were already on their way. So by continuing west, the Saints would meet the relief party that much sooner. And if there weren’t wagons, as some feared, then the emigrants had no choice but to continue the trek on their own. Without provisions from the valley, the Saints faced certain death from cold and starvation if they waited in the camp.
Jessie listened to the words but said nothing. After all, the emigrants had been told there would be provisions waiting for them along the trail, but they had found nothing.
The Martin Company left the campsite on the North Platte, moving slowly, stiffly through the drifts of snow that had accumulated. Jessie and her little company pushed their carts into the white, dreary stretch of land, pushed with hands that were already raw and frosted, their feet cold in worn boots and shoes. Several inches of snow had fallen in the night, and the storm had not let up. She knew that some of the emigrants had never before encountered the white stuff, and she saw that they at first had been enchanted as the snow covered the rocks and the stunted grass, the sagebrush and the carts themselves, as if the sky had sent down white feathers. But in a short time, the delight had turned to terror at the ferociousness of the wind and at cold that started in their hands and feet and spread throughout their bodies. Jessie, too, was cold as she huddled near her cart, trying to build a campfire from wet sagebrush, and she was relieved when the leaders told them to push forward. She hoped that a day’s journey might lead them to a protected campsite.
But pulling the carts against the wind made her wish for the deep sand of the prairies that the Saints had once cursed. The ground was icy and steep in places, causing the cart to slip, and rocks hidden under the snow threatened to break the already-weakened axle and wheel. She saw entire families maneuvering the carts now, fathers and sons working together to pull while women and girls and even young children pushed. To lessen the weight, only the very ill rode on top of the carts. Children as young as three and four, too numb and cold to cry, trudged beside the vehicles, and the sick who could not find a place in the wagons maneuvered as best they could, limping behind the carts, sometimes crawling on their hands and knees.
Still racked with fever, Ephraim was one of those who stumbled along beside the cart. Jessie had begged for a place in one of the wagons for her brother, but she had been denied. A missing arm was not thought critical enough. So she and Sutter had lifted Ephraim onto the cart, but the way was too steep and slick, and the cart would not move under the burden. Even without Ephraim’s weight, Sutter and Jessie strained against the crosspiece while Emeline and Maud pushed with all their might.
Jessie marveled at Maud’s stamina, and at her courage and cheerfulness. She was aged, but she was as tireless as the others, not only preparing the meals, as was their agreement, but taking her turn with the cart, too. “There’s not but little to do with the cooking now, what with only a bit of flour and salt to eat,” she told Jessie. “It’s not as if I had a barley soup or a leg of mutton to serve.” The night before, the woman had made the rounds of the camp to help with doctoring. There were more demands on her now that the cold had come. In the beginning, she had dealt with childbirth and injuries. Now many had frosted feet and hands, and it would get worst. Fingers and toes would freeze and have to be cut off, and she had no linseed-meal poultices to help heal the injured bodies.
The Coopers were among the first to leave the campsite on the North Platte that morning. Ephraim was no help, of course, but Sutter and Jessie were strong. “At this rate, we could make it to the Great Salt Lake City in two weeks,” Jessie said to keep their spirits up. That was not likely, of course, since the going was slow and treacherous, and the valley still hundreds of miles away. Even if the weather turned warm, the trek would take time, because like the weakest link in a chain, the slowest carts would regulate the speed of the entire company. Besides, Ephraim could barely keep up. He slid and stumbled in the snow, and after a while, Emeline stopped pushing the cart in order to hold on to him. It was not easy for the girl, because Ephraim was a large man. From time to time, Emeline went down in the snow when Ephraim slipped and fell against her. But she did not complain. In fact, she giggled, and her laughter caused Ephraim to smile, as if they shared some secret.
Jessie wondered what they would have done without both Emeline and Maud. She and her brothers had taken on the two as if they had been foundlings, doing their duty to help those in need. Instead, the girl and the old woman, whose strength had grown each day, had more than proved their worth by pushing the cart and caring for Ephraim. He would be dead without them.
Jessie looked over at Ephraim and Emeline now. Her brother had fallen and was sitting in the snow, Emeline coaxing him to get up, but the man would not. Jessie knew his stubbornness. The Coopers were all stubborn, and she told Sutter to stop the cart. The two of them would have to talk to their brother.
“Get up. You will freeze,” Emeline pleaded.
Jessie knew Ephraim was past caring about himself, and she interjected. “Get up and go on. You cannot sit here. We have to go at once, or we will all die,” she said brusquely.
“Leave be,” Ephraim replied.
“Listen to her,” Emeline told him. “She doesn’t change her mind once she’s spoke. We’ll all be stopped here until you decide to go.”
“That includes Emeline. Do you want her to freeze by the side of the road?” Jessie asked.