The Work and the Glory (186 page)

Chapter Thirty-Three

Rebecca rounded the corner and stopped in surprise. Derek was leaning against the wall of the cabin. He straightened, looking a little sheepish.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Just waitin’.”

“At six o’clock in the morning?”

His blue eyes sparkled for a moment. “Matthew told me you like to go walking first thing in the morning.”

“I—” She stopped, pleased, but peering at him more closely. “How long have you been here?”He pulled a face. “Unfortunately, Matthew forgot to mention what he meant by ‘first thing.’”

She laughed merrily. “So how long?”

He glanced up at her, then away quickly. “Since five o’clock.”

She was startled for a moment, but then she gave him one of her most winsome smiles and started moving toward him again. “Then I suppose we’d better start walking, hadn’t we?”

“You don’t mind if I accompany you?”

She stopped short. “Derek Ingalls!”

He was dismayed at the look on her face. “What?”

“If you start talking that way again, I don’t want to be with you.” She walked on past him, her head turned away from him.

Hastily he fell into step beside her. “If I start talkin’ what way?”

“Putting yourself down, talking like you aren’t worth anything.”

“Well—,” he started, but she shot him such a look that he clamped his mouth shut again.

She walked quickly, her steps angry and crisp, and Derek had to stride out to keep up with her. Twice he started to say something, but then thought better of it. Gradually her step slowed again, and the firmness around her mouth softened. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, then finally dared to venture an attempt to put things right. “I talk that way because whenever I’m around you I feel that way.”

She gave him a look of disbelief. “Is that supposed to be a compliment? That I make you feel inferior?”

He went on stubbornly. “I didn’t say that you make me feel inferior. I was tryin’ to say that I feel inferior when I’m around you. They aren’t the same.”

She considered that for a moment, then nodded. “All right. Why do you feel inferior when you’re around me?”

They were coming to a pasture with two or three milk cows, a horse, and a small flock of sheep scattered around it. Derek stopped and walked over to the rail fence and leaned against it. Rebecca watched him for a moment, then went over to join him. “Well?” she prodded.

He took in a deep breath, searching for the right words and the courage to say them. Matthew’s threat popped into his mind. He let out the breath, losing his nerve. “By the way,” he said, not meeting her eyes, “did Caroline decide to go back home today?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Last night Lydia and Mama were still trying to talk her out of it. They feel terrible about the things Papa said about Joshua. Caroline says that’s not why she wants to leave. She feels like she needs to return and work things out between her and Joshua. Lydia says it will be good for Papa if she stays until the Fourth of July. Especially for him to have Savannah around. Lydia and Mama still think that Caroline is our only hope of getting this whole thing worked out.”

Derek shook his head. “Your father is such a kind man in so many ways. Yet this anger in him about your brother—it’s very difficult to understand.”

“I know.” She was quiet for several moments, then a teasing look came in her eye. “You changed the subject on me, Derek Ingalls, and you’re not going to get away with that. Why do you feel inferior around me?”

For some odd reason, an image flashed into Derek’s mind. It was the image of him in the back office at the textile factory, standing in front of a very angry Mr. Morris. “You’ll have until lunch to make up your mind about Mormonism,” he had said. And Derek had squared his shoulders, looked him straight in the eye, and replied, “I won’t need until lunch.” Suddenly it struck him that that was a courageous thing he had done. It had also taken courage for him and Peter to come to America, then make their way across more than a thousand miles of country to get here. For some reason, the thought cheered him immensely. Now here he was, standing next to the woman who left him as stammering of tongue as if he were a craven coward facing a line of musketeers. It was time to call on that same courage that had helped to get him where he now stood.

He straightened and turned to face her square on. “Would you mind if I spoke to you straight out, Rebecca?” he said.

Her eyes danced mischievously. “I would find that most refreshing, Mr. Ingalls.”

“Then I’ll say what’s on my mind.” He gulped, a little abashed by his brazenness. “I don’t think it was happenstance that Peter and I came to America.”

The mischief in Rebecca’s eyes faded.

“I don’t think comin’ to Kirtland and meetin’ your family was happenstance either,” he went on. “I feel strongly that the Lord had a hand in all of it.”

“I would agree with that,” Rebecca said quietly, watching him very closely now.

“Whether it was happenstance or not,” he rushed on, “I know that since I first met you that day on the doorstep in Kirtland you’ve been on my mind a great deal, Miss Rebecca Steed.”

“I have?” she said softly, her eyes shining now with something that made him glow with hope.

“Yes, you have. And whilst I seem to keep leavin’ your presence over and over, I still find myself thinkin’ about little else other than you.” Now his countenance fell. “And yet when I do, I can’t believe there’s any chance you could be havin’ any of those same feelings. I look at how lovely you are. You are poised and clever and witty, and I’m dull and—”

She reached up and put a hand over his mouth quickly; then, embarrassed by her boldness, she stepped back. “Don’t, Derek. Please don’t.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “But that’s how I feel when I’m around you.”

She moved a step closer to him again and waited until he looked up to meet her eyes. “And what would you say if I told you I have had those same feelings? That I think about you all the time? That I was very sad when you went to Di-Ahman, because it meant I would not get to see you often?”

He stared at her in wonder. “I would say that was a very difficult thing for me to believe.”

“Only because you’re such a stubborn Englishman,” she shot back.

He caught his breath, a little dazed. “Then, if that
were
the case, I would tell this lovely, witty, clever girl what was on my mind.”

“I think that would be an excellent idea.”

“I would tell her that by next spring I will have five or six acres of land cleared, plowed, and in seed. I will have a home built—not a fancy one, but big enough to see it through a few winters safely. I would tell her that I then plan to buy myself a set of Sunday-best clothes and come on down to Far West.”

“For what purpose?” she asked in a half whisper.

“To go before one Benjamin Steed, Esquire, and to ask for the hand of his daughter in marriage.”

She was smiling shyly now. “And if he agreed?”

“Then I would come to that daughter and ask her if she would be willing to accept an unlearned, unschooled, stubborn, mule-headed Englishman for her husband.”

Rebecca turned back and leaned on the fence. “I think the answer to that question would be no.”

His mouth dropped, and there was instant bafflement in his eyes.

“If he were to ask if she would accept a wise, gentle, serious-minded, hardworking Englishman who has a wonderful way with words—and who is just a tiny little bit stubborn—then I would guess that daughter just might say yes,” she said.

The dismay had turned to incredulousness. “Really?” he cried.

She smiled shyly at him. “I couldn’t be absolutely positive, but I think the chances are really quite excellent.”

* * *

“Grandpa! Grandpa!”

Benjamin looked up from his shoveling. Young Joshua was coming across the field on the dead run, waving his arms.

Matthew was in the shallow trench they were digging to serve as the foundation for their smokehouse. He straightened, squinting against the afternoon sunshine, and watched as Joshua came sliding to a halt, puffing mightily.

“Get Grandma and come to our house right away,” Joshua gasped.

Benjamin’s head came up with a snap. “What’s wrong? Is your father back?”

Joshua shook his head quickly. “No. Brother Joseph is at our house. He wants to talk to us. He wants all the family to come.”

The relief washed over Benjamin. For an instant, he had had visions of Nathan being returned in a condition similar to the one he had been put in when he had previously gone to Jackson County. “The whole family?” he asked.

“Yes,” Joshua said. “He wants Aunt Jessica and Uncle John, Uncle Matthew, Aunt Rebecca. He said everybody.”

Matthew stuck his shovel in the ground and leaned on the handle, smiling at how his nephew gulped in air between sentences.

Benjamin looked at Matthew. “Wonder what that’s all about.”

“Hurry, Grandpa,” Joshua cried. “He’s already there.”

“All right,” Benjamin said, holding up his hands in surrender, “tell him we’re coming.”

As Joshua turned to go, Benjamin called after him. “Did Caroline leave, then, or not?”

Joshua turned back, shaking his head. “Mama talked her into staying at least until tomorrow.”

“Good,” Benjamin said, with more earnestness than he had intended. He had said his piece last night, and his feelings had not changed; but when he learned that Caroline was thinking of leaving again, he knew it was because of what he’d said, and he regretted every word he’d uttered.

Benjamin had turned fifty-three in May. His hair was starting to thin out a little, and the gray was creeping up from the temples. When he did hard physical work, like that which they had been doing this morning, he could tell that somewhere down deep the reserves of strength were not the same as in the past. But it was all right. He was a grandfather now and was enjoying this stage of his life tremendously. He rejoiced in his family, and now Caroline and her children were part of that family. He smiled to himself as he thought about little Savannah. What a whip she was. Her and her grandpa.

So today he would keep his feelings about his oldest son to himself. He would let Caroline know what her coming had meant to all of them. And if Joshua was fool enough to drive his second family away from him, then Benjamin would be ready to provide a haven for them just as he had done with Jessica and Rachel.

“Pa?”

Matthew’s voice brought him out of his thoughts. He looked up, a little sheepish. “You go get your mother and your sister. Tell Jessica and John as well. I’ll put away the tools.”

* * *

To put twenty people into the one room that constituted the main floor of Nathan and Lydia’s small log home was to fill it completely. Every chair, bench, and stool was either taken or saved for those still coming. The children were placed on the stairs or in the little remaining open floor space around the room. Lydia had asked Joseph if they should just let the younger children go outside and play, but Joseph had rejected that out of hand. This was to be a Steed family council, and that meant even the babies stayed so that no one would have to be absent to watch them.

By the time Benjamin and Mary Ann arrived with Matthew and Rebecca and Jessica and her family, Joseph had already been introduced to Caroline and her children. When Benjamin came in, he saw that Joseph was visiting amiably with Caroline and Will. At the sight of Benjamin, Savannah, who sat on Olivia’s lap, squirmed free and toddled across to her grandpa. “Hello, little doll,” he said, picking her up.

“Brother Benjamin, Sister Mary Ann,” Joseph boomed, coming across to shake their hands. “Thank you for coming. I apologize for taking you away from your work.”

“No bother,” Benjamin said, not even trying to disguise his curiosity. “Is there a problem, Brother Joseph?”

Joseph smiled, his blue eyes unfathomable. “Well, that depends on what you mean by a problem, Brother Ben.” He motioned to the chairs the family had reserved for them. “Please be seated.”

As they sat down, Mary Ann gave her husband a questioning look. He raised one eyebrow. He was as baffled as she was. He tucked Savannah comfortably under his arm, then turned to Joseph.

Immediately the room quieted as the Prophet moved to the far end of the room where he could see everyone clearly. He let his gaze sweep over them slowly, which only deepened the hush. Finally he cleared his throat, and turned his eyes to Benjamin. “Brother Benjamin, I have a question for you.”

“All right.”

“When you die and go to the judgment bar and the book of life is opened, do you think it will be recorded anywhere that there were people on earth who prayed for you?”

That caused a ripple of surprise. Benjamin was dumfounded. What kind of question was that? “Well,” he began tentatively. He glanced quickly at Mary Ann. “I suppose it will be recorded that Mary Ann prayed for me. Especially during that time in Palmyra, and when we first came to Kirtland.”

Rebecca spoke out, just loud enough for her father to hear. “Mama wasn’t the only one.”

Lydia was nodding too.

Joseph smiled but kept his eyes on Benjamin. “Do you think that will work to your favor there?”

Benjamin was reeling a little. He had no idea where this was supposed to be going. “I would like to think so.”

“I would too,” Joseph said. Then instantly he changed tack. “Brother Ben, are you familiar with the parable of the unmerciful servant?” Before Benjamin could answer, the Prophet looked quickly around the room. “Now, while I may be speaking to your father and grandfather, this applies to every one here, so please listen carefully.”

Benjamin’s mind was racing. “Isn’t that the one with the two men who both owed debts?”

“The very one,” Joseph replied. “Now, I’ve always said that if you want to know what the parables mean, you need to ask what question or situation caused the Savior to give the parable. Does anyone recall what question was asked of Jesus that caused him to give this particular parable?”

Mary Ann raised her hand, and when Joseph nodded at her she spoke quietly, not looking at her husband. “Peter asked how many times we are required to forgive someone for their trespasses against us.”