The Work and the Glory (398 page)

As Jennifer Jo came to the bed, Kathryn grew more serious. “Really, Jennifer, who is it?”

“You’ll see.” She bent over and, to Kathryn’s surprise, laid a towel over her eyes. “Lift your head.” As Kathryn did so, she tied it behind her head, making a blindfold.

“What is this?” Kathryn asked.

“Never you mind.” Jennifer Jo turned. “All right,” she called. “You may come in now.”

Kathryn cocked her head, trying to pick out individual sounds as three pairs of boots came clunking across her floor. But it was too muddled. “Who is it?” she called cheerfully. There was no answer, but suddenly she felt hands slip beneath her and lift her up. “Oh!” she gasped.

“Just hold still,” Matthew said into her ear. “We’ve got you.”

She felt herself carried across the room and then, more slowly, through the door. Then they crossed the main room and went outside. “Help! Emily! I’m being kidnaped.”

She heard Emily laugh, and then, to her surprise, a lot of others joined in the laughter as well. “Careful, now,” Matthew warned as they walked down the porch step.

Thoroughly intrigued now, Kathryn relaxed, letting herself be carried along, still wondering what it was they were doing and why the great mystery.

“Okay, we’re going to sit you down now. Ready?”

They bent her at the waist and she felt her feet lowered. In a moment she felt the confines of a hard chair, with a cushion in the seat. Someone moved her arms so that they rested on the arms of the chair. Then they let her go. To her amazement, there were oohs and aahs and a sudden smattering of applause. Then, before she could consider what that meant, Jennifer Jo whipped off the blindfold.

She blinked at the brightness of the sunlight, seeing that it was the family gathered around her. They were smiling and looking at her with great pride. Emily came darting right around in front of her. “Yea!” she cried, clapping her hands. “How do you like it?”

“Like it?” Kathryn gasped as her chair began to move, gliding along smoothly, like a sleigh on hard-packed snow. She looked down now and saw that her chair had wheels. And they were turning. She was moving effortlessly down the walk, between the applauding family members. As they reached the front gate, the chair stopped. Arching her back, she turned to see who was behind her. There, grinning like two young schoolboys, were Peter Ingalls and Will Steed.

“Hello, Kathryn,” they said in chorus.

“But . . . ,” she started, totally bewildered now. “What is this?”

Jennifer Jo was suddenly kneeling at her side, smiling broadly. “It’s a wheelchair, Kathryn. It’s your very own wheelchair. Now you can go all around town if you like.”

“A wheelchair?” she stammered, not fully understanding.

Now Peter was at her other side. “Yes. Matthew made it at his shop. It’s just for you.” He took hold of one of the large wooden wheels, which had metal bands around them as the tires. He rocked the chair back and forth. “See? It moves as easily as a feather.”

She turned her head, searching for Matthew among the
familiar faces. When she found him, her eyes were suddenly glistening. “You made this for me?”

In typical Matthew fashion, he blushed a little and shrugged. “Actually, it was Peter’s idea. He showed me a picture from a New York catalog. The rest was easy.”

She turned back, but Peter had moved behind her and now he said, “Matthew is the designer; I provide the horsepower; Will is the navigator.”

Will bowed. “Would you care for a tour around town, Miss McIntire?”

“Oh, I would love one,” Kathryn cried, hardly believing that this was happening.

“Then hold on tight,” Will commanded. Then his face flamed as he realized his blunder. “Oh, I’m sorry, Kathryn.”

She laughed in delight. “No, look.” She flexed her fingers, then awkwardly clenched the two arms of her chair. “See? I
can
hold on. Off with you, good sirs.”

With the applause and cheers of the family sounding in her ears, they navigated their way out the gate and started up Granger Street. The younger children ran alongside, laughing and clapping and calling to one another as though this were some grand parade. Kathryn laid her head back, letting the sun splash across her face, reveling in the sheer glory of it all.

They had circled clear up around the stone quarry and were heading back toward Steed Row when they came past the family store. By then the children had tired and returned home and it was just the three of them—Kathryn in the chair, Will and Peter each taking turns pushing her. Suddenly the door to the store opened and Nathan came striding out. “Hey there!” he called. “Who is this beautiful young woman going past my door?”

“Hello, Uncle Nathan.”

He came down to the street and Will let the chair roll to a stop. “Well,” Nathan called, “I heard about this. What do you think of your new chariot?”

“Oh, Uncle Nathan, it’s absolutely glorious. I feel like I’m free. I don’t ever want to get back in that bed.”

“Well, let’s not overdo it on the first day, all right?” He walked around the chair, eyeing it up and down. “Very good,” he said. “Matthew does good work.”

“Isn’t it beautiful?”

“How does it push?” he asked her two guides.

“Good,” Will said.

“Better on hard-packed dirt than in loose dust,” Peter added.

“But on the boardwalks it just flies,” Kathryn cried. “I made them run with me.”

Nathan leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. “That’s wonderful, Kathryn.”

She smiled at him, her eyes lustrous and wide. “Yes, it really is.”

Nathan nodded, then looked at Will. “Say, Will, have you got a minute?” He grinned at Peter. “Think you could handle this young lady all by yourself?”

“Yes, sir,” he barked.

Will started to follow, then turned and waved. “I’ll catch you. Don’t wait for me.”

Peter moved along more slowly now, sensing that even though she was getting tired, Kathryn did not want this to end. She had laid her head back now, and her eyes were closed. They hadn’t spoken for several minutes.

“Peter?”

“What?”

“I think you need to kiss the blarney stone.”

“What?”

Her eyes opened and she laughed up at him. “The blarney stone.”

“What in the world is that?”

“There’s a castle in Blarney, which is near Cork, in Ireland.” Without realizing it, she had slipped into a more pronounced Irish accent, sounding very much like her mother. “Legend has it that once the castle was threatened with attack from an enemy, but the nobleman saved it through his gift for talking and flattery.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. In the inner tower—or the castle
keep,
as it is called
—
there is a large stone. It is said that if you kiss the blarney stone, you shall be blessed with the gift of sweet, persuasive eloquence.” She smiled. “Not that I’m saying that you’re not eloquent. Actually, you’re very good with words. It’s just that you are sure not very talkative today.”

He blushed deeply. “I’m sorry, I thought you were resting and—”

She laughed merrily. “I shouldn’t tease you so.”

He smiled at her sheepishly. “I don’t mind.”

She kept her head tipped back so she could watch him. “Why aren’t you at work?”

“Brother Taylor said to take whatever time I needed. I’ll work later tonight.”

“Thank you, Peter.”

“Oh, you’re welcome. This has been really fun for me.”

“No. Thank you for the poem.”

He started a little. “Oh.”

“It was beautiful.”

“I . . . I was afraid it might make you feel bad.”

“Oh no! It made me remember that it’s only my body that’s crippled, not me.”

He nodded, clearly pleased. That had been his hope.

“It’s on my wall now,” she said shyly.

“I saw it.”

“You were one of the ones who carried me out?”

He grinned. “Yes.”

She turned back to the front and smiled, wishing that she had known that then.

“Kathryn?”

“What?”

“Did you know that these wheels are big like this for a reason?”

She looked down to where the wheels were slowly turning. They
were
large. The tops of them were almost even with the arms of the chair. “No. Why are they so big?”

“So that when your arms get strong enough again, you can turn the wheels yourself. Then you won’t have to depend on anyone to take you out.”

Her head dropped and she went very still. Peter’s step slowed and then he stopped. He came around to where he could see her. He fell back a little. Tears were trickling down her cheek. Seeing him there, she sniffed quickly and jerked away.

“I’m sorry,” he said in dismay.

Her head came back around. “Sorry?”

“Yes, for what I just said.”

She shook her head, angry at herself for causing the misunderstanding. “Don’t you realize
what
you just said?”

“No, what?”

“You said
when
my arms are strong enough, not
if
my arms get strong enough.” Her voice was barely a whisper now. “Thank you, Peter.”

Nathan had been alone in the store and had some ledger books spread out across the counter. But he ignored those now and gestured toward the chairs in one corner. As the two of them settled in, Will watched his uncle with some curiosity. This was obviously going to be more than a brief question.

“Any word from your father?”

“Not yet. We expect him any time now. It’s been ten days.”

“I hope he got a good price for that lumber in St. Louis. You’re about to become a well-to-do young businessman.”

“Me? I’ll get my wages, same as the rest of the men, but that’s hardly enough to make me well-to-do.”

Nathan was surprised at that. Joshua had told him that he considered Will a partner and would split the profits so that a generous share went to his son. But he clearly hadn’t told that to his son. In light of all that had happened, Nathan decided it wasn’t his place to say anything. “Have you ever seen Jenny Pottsworth since you got back?”

Will nodded, his eyes hooded. “She came over to the freight office one day last week.”

“She did?” That was news.

“Yes. She was visiting with her mother. She came to apologize for how she had handled everything.”

“That’s good. Are she and Andrew happy?”

He shrugged. “That’s what she said.” He suddenly looked embarrassed. “I wouldn’t say this to anyone else, Nathan, and you’ve got to promise you won’t either.”

He raised his hand, palm forward. “I promise.”

“I think Jenny is sorry she didn’t wait until I came home. By then I had made my decision to join the Church, but she was already married.” Then he shook his head. “Ah, probably that’s just my imagination. Wishful thinking.”

“Lydia said the same thing.”

“She did?”

“Yes. Jenny was over one day and spent a couple of hours at the store. Lydia said she had the definite impression that she had some regrets.”

Will’s shoulders lifted and fell again. “Well, she didn’t wait and that’s that.”

“Are you sorry?”

He shook his head without the slightest hesitation.

“Not at all?” Nathan said in surprise.

Will nodded, thoughtful now. “It’s funny, isn’t it? There was a time when I thought the whole world had fallen in. Jenny was falling in love with Andrew. She wouldn’t write to me. Then that letter of Lydia’s came. I was ready to leave camp, throw everything over, run back here, and make everything right.” There was a short, embarrassed laugh. “Or make a fool of myself, that’s more what it really would have been.

“Anyway, then I took that ride on a log going down the river. Suddenly, that brought things back into perspective again. I was really being childish, wasn’t I?”

“Maybe childlike,” Nathan said softly. “But you’re not a child anymore, Will. You’ve grown up.”

“Thank you.” His voice was suddenly husky. “And thank you for pulling me out that day so I could live to see how really foolish I was.”

“You would have done the same for me,” Nathan murmured. “You know that, don’t you?”

Will considered that, remembering the swiftness of the tragedy, remembering Nathan running along the riverbank, screaming at him, tearing off his coat. “I don’t know. I’d like to think so.”

“You would,” he said flatly.

“Well, I know this. I’m sure glad it’s not me who’s married. I’m not ready.”

Nathan nodded absently. “With your father due back, have you decided what you’re going to do about being baptized?”

“I’m going to be baptized. I’m only waiting until he gets back so I can tell him.”

“I thought you wanted to wait for your mother.”

“I do. She thinks she is going to go ahead.”

Nathan leaned back, the amazement written across his face. “Really?”

He nodded. “Don’t you think she ought to?”

It was as if Will had stuck him with an ice pick. Nathan visibly jumped, remembering the words of his father that early morning on the porch of the store.

Will gave him a searching look. “What is it, Nathan? What is wrong?”

He let the question pass. “Your father will be furious if you do.”

“I know,” Will said sadly. “But my other Father will be disappointed if I don’t.”

“What?” Nathan exclaimed. “What did you say?”

“Listen, Nathan. I got my answer up in camp that night. My Heavenly Father told me very clearly what to do. Don’t I owe him something too?”

Nathan’s eyes were wide and he leaned forward slowly. “Yes, I suppose you do. And you’re sure? You’re really sure?”

“I should have been sure long before that. I mean, I’m the one who nearly sacrificed his life down at the
Warsaw Signal
office because they said something about the Church in the newspaper that I didn’t like. But then I turn right around and can’t make up my mind if the Church is true. I just kept going back and forth, back and forth. I couldn’t make up my mind.”

Nathan was looking at him strangely. “Like a bird hopping back and forth between two branches?”

Will’s brow furrowed. “What?”

“You were kind of like a bird, hopping back and forth between two branches.”

“Yes,” he said. “That’s a pretty good description. I had all these questions I wanted answered. Was the Church true? Was the Book of Mormon true? Should I be baptized? And I kept getting frustrated because I couldn’t seem to get the answers. And finally the Lord simply said to me, ‘
Do
and
then
you’ll know.’ And I knew that was the only answer I needed for now.”