The Work and the Glory (204 page)

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Authors: Gerald N. Lund

Tags: #Fiction, #History

BOOK: The Work and the Glory
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The burden of worry and dread that had ridden on Benjamin’s shoulders for the past twelve hours lifted, and a dizzying sense of euphoria swirled in around him. He was still holding Derek’s hand. He gripped it fiercely. “We are so glad to see you, Derek. When we heard that some of you were killed—”

“Killed?” Derek interrupted. He shook his head. “No one was killed.”

“No one?” Nathan repeated.

“Not on either side.” There was a fleeting smile. “There’s more than one set of cracked ribs and some whopping headaches today in Daviess County—and I’m not talking just about the Saints—but that’s about all. And thank the good Lord for that.”

Benjamin quickly told them about the report that had come south.

“How swiftly rumor flies,” Derek said with a grimace. “We heard the whole county was arming against us, so we spent the night down in the river bottoms hiding the women and children. But no one ever came.”

“Well,” Matthew said, with just a touch of defiance, “there are over four dozen of us now. Those old settlers had better think twice about trying something.”

Suddenly overcome with the emotion he was feeling, Nathan laid a hand on Derek’s good shoulder. “Rebecca is worried sick about you. To see you in no worse shape than this . . .” He shook his head. “We’re very grateful.”

Derek nodded, understanding immediately how such news would have struck his beloved Rebecca. “I shall write a letter tonight for you to take back with you.”

Benjamin shook his head firmly. “No letters. You’re not going to be doing much farmin’ with that arm, so you’re coming home with us. Becca won’t be convinced you’re all right until she sees you for herself.”

Matthew grinned at his friend. “And I’ll just warn you now. When she sees you, you may end up with another broken arm and a set of cracked ribs, because you’re going to get the hugging of your life.”

* * *

Rebecca sat on a thick clump of prairie grass between the two wagon tracks that were the road that led out of Far West. She was about a quarter of a mile beyond the last house, just enough off the brow of the hill on which the city sat to get a panoramic view of a wide expanse of the countryside. With her eye she could follow the road as it snaked its way down the gradual decline, then on across the rolling folds of prairie. Though she couldn’t see it, about five miles from where she sat the north-south road intersected this one.

She closed her eyes, trying to shut out the images that followed. Derek’s description of Di-Ahman had been too explicit. She could picture the wandering line of trees that marked the banks of the Grand River, the bluffs on either side of the beautiful little valley. And on the northern bluff there was a partially finished sod hut. A boy was off to one side of it. It was Peter, on his knees in front of a freshly turned square of dirt. A roughly painted slab of board stuck in the ground at one end of the gravesite served as a tombstone. Other Saints were standing around, heads bowed.

Angrily, Rebecca stood up, kicking at the soft dirt that two days ago had been thick mud and by tomorrow afternoon would be dust again. It had been yesterday morning when Brother Joseph and Hyrum had come to the house. Even though she had known there was little chance they could return the same day, the moment her chores were over, she had come out on the road and sat there until twilight. Watching to the east and north. Hoping against hope.

Today she had been here since nine o’clock, her mother finally shooing her out of the house, knowing that nothing else would help. Now it was almost sundown again. Several times Rebecca’s hopes had soared when she saw figures in the distance, but her hopes were quickly dashed as they approached and then passed her by. She was growing numb now, exhausted in both mind and spirit at the thoughts of having yet another night and day of not knowing.

A movement caught her eye. Her heart jumped, and then just as quickly fell again. Some figures had appeared on the top of one of the gentle ridges that stretched out to the east of her. At first she had thought there were only two of them, both on horseback. But then she could see there were five people—two on horseback and three others walking beside them. It was too few to be the brethren returning and too many for it to be her father and Matthew and Nathan.

She turned away, the pain knifing through her. She would go home. Better to sit in the cabin staring at the chinked walls and rough-cut furniture than to feel this constant leaping and then dashing of her hopes. But she didn’t move. Finally she turned back to look at the figures again. The low sun was at her back, but she still raised one hand to shade her eyes.

Then suddenly she was staring. They were about two hundred yards away now. The lead horse had a white blaze on its face, just like the sorrel mare that her father owned. She took a step forward, going up on tiptoe, as if that might help her see better. The man riding that horse sat tall and straight and wore a large straw hat.

“Papa!” she whispered. She didn’t dare believe. She told herself her eyes were playing tricks on her. They had done it before. But she shook it off. This time there was something unmistakably familiar about the man. It was her father.

She started walking now, at first slowly, then more swiftly. The man walking closest to the horses was Nathan. And beside him was Matthew. She was almost certain now. Suddenly she stopped, staring, her heart leaping. The person beside Matthew was short and slender. She leaned forward. It was Peter!

Her eyes jumped back to the second horseman. She barely dared to breathe. Then, with a cry of joy, Rebecca broke into a run, waving. The figure on the second horse had straightened now in the saddle and one arm came up and waved. Then the sound came floating toward her on the late afternoon air. “Becca! Becca!”

* * *

Mary Ann laid the bandage back across Derek’s forehead and tied it into place. “It’s going to scar.”

He pulled a face. “I know.” Then, turning to Rebecca, he grinned. “That won’t make you change your mind about me, will it?”

Seeing the ugly gash in Derek’s forehead had made Rebecca sick to her stomach. She shook her head, forcing a wan smile.

Now he looked genuinely concerned. He lifted the arm that was in the sling. “It
is
going to make a difference to her, Mother Steed. Your daughter doesn’t want a broken-down husband.”

Rebecca moved over to the bench where Derek was sitting. She sat down next to him, slipped an arm through his good arm, and laid her head against his shoulder. “Please don’t joke about it, Derek. Every time I think about what happened to you . . .” She gave a little shudder.

He put his arm around her, sobering. “It’s all right, Rebecca. It’s over now.”

“Is it?” she cried.

No one answered. Benjamin stared at his hands. Matthew looked at Peter, then away. Mary Ann was watching her husband. Finally, Benjamin looked up. “Joseph is still up north. He’s going to hold a meeting tomorrow at noon in Di-Ahman with a delegation of some of the county officials—there
are some
cooler heads in the county. They’ll try and work out some kind of truce.”

He smiled at his daughter with great tenderness. “The brethren wanted us to wait and come home with them tomorrow, but we decided you and your mother would be very anxious to receive the news that everything was all right.”

Rebecca snuggled up against Derek. “I would have died if you hadn’t come until tomorrow.”

“Me too,” Peter said, pretending petulance. “One more day of Derek’s cooking and it would have been me they were burying.”

“What?” Derek cried. He tried to swat at his brother, but Rebecca blocked his arm. The others all broke out in laughter.

Mary Ann stood, still smiling. “I think we’d better get this poor, starving boy fed and happy again. I have a chicken already boiling in the pot, so it won’t take long.” She looked to her youngest. “Matthew, you go tell Nathan and Lydia to come over for supper. I think this deserves a family celebration.”

“Right.” As Matthew stood and started for the door, Derek sat up, pushing Rebecca back slightly. “Uh . . . Matthew, could you wait just one second?”

Matthew stopped. Derek stood now too. He shot a panicked look at Benjamin, then a fleeting, sickly smile at Mary Ann. Then, taking a quick breath, he looked down at Rebecca and took her hand. “Uh . . . Becca, I was going to talk with you about this, but maybe right here is as good as anything.”

Rebecca looked surprised. “What?”

Derek gulped nervously. “I wanted to get the farm started good. Have a nice place. Make sure I could make a go of it. I thought that by next spring . . .” He trailed off, struggling.

Eyes widening, Rebecca straightened slowly. Mary Ann had turned back around and was staring at Derek.

Suddenly the words came out in a rush. “And I was thinking, after what happened up there, that sometimes it might not be the best thing to do. To wait, I mean. Sometimes you just have to seize the moment. Sometimes waiting just makes it worse. I mean, it might be tough this first winter, but after that I . . .”

He had turned to look at Benjamin, and his voice trailed off when he saw the older man’s face. The heavy brows had pulled downward; the pale blue eyes were noticeably grim. “What are you trying to say, boy?” Benjamin said gruffly. “Come on, spit it out.”

“Benjamin!” Mary Ann said, slapping at his arm.

Rebecca had come to her feet. Her eyes were large and filled with shining wonder as she stared at Derek. He took her hand now and drew her a step closer to him. “I’m . . . I’m wonderin’ if you might consider getting married now. Not waiting until spring.”

Before Rebecca could react, Benjamin stepped to the two young people. “Right now?” he barked. “You’re asking to marry her right now?”

“Uh . . . yes, sir. I guess that’s what I’m suggesting. With your permission, sir.”

“That wouldn’t be possible right now.” It came out flat and hard.

Derek looked like he had been struck. Rebecca’s mouth dropped. There was a sharp gasp from Mary Ann.

Then a twinkle stole into Benjamin’s eye. “You can’t marry him right now. Jessica would never forgive us if she weren’t here.”

Derek was staring, comprehension not yet coming. Then Rebecca laughed. In one step she was to her father. “Oh, Papa, thank you!”

Benjamin brought up a hand and brushed her hair, smiling now into her eyes. “And Joshua. It will probably take a week by the time we send a letter down and get them back up here.” He put his hand under her chin and lifted her face to his. “Think you two could bear to wait a whole week?”

Her eyes were shining. “Oh, yes, Papa. Yes. Thank you.” And then she turned and threw herself into Derek’s arms as Mary Ann and Matthew came swarming in to congratulate them.

* * *

They had finished the chicken stew and started on Mary Ann’s rhubarb pie when Benjamin’s head suddenly came up and he held up one hand. The conversation around the table stopped immediately. Then they all heard it—the jingle of harness and the creaking of a wagon. Even as they listened, it stopped.

“Someone’s here,” Benjamin said, swinging his legs out and around the bench. He stood and went to the door. All eyes in the room followed him. As he opened the door, his body filled the frame. They tried to see past him, but couldn’t.

“Well, I’ll be!” Benjamin exclaimed. Then he turned back to look at his family, grinning broadly.

“What?” Mary Ann asked.

“You two must be living right,” he said to Derek and Rebecca.

Mary Ann stood quickly. “What is it, Ben?”

He still stood in the doorway, blocking their view to the outside. “Matthew,” he said gravely, “you’d better plan an early start to Haun’s Mill. We’d best fetch Jessica and John here as soon as possible.”

Mary Ann stood up, walking toward the door. She was trying to see past her husband. “Ben, for heaven’s sake, what is it?”

Before she could reach him he stepped forward and took her by the shoulders. He kissed her on the cheek soundly. “You think you could get a wedding together by Friday?”

“Friday?” Mary Ann said, half-shocked.

“Friday?” Rebecca echoed, standing up quickly. “But that’s day after tomorrow. I want to wait for Joshua and Caroline.”

Benjamin laughed right out loud. “But that’s just it. Joshua and Caroline are here,” he said. He stepped back, throwing the door open wide. “Joshua and Caroline are here right now.”

Chapter Notes

The first reports reaching Far West were that two or three brethren had been killed. Joseph led a party north to aid the Saints but thankfully found that the reports had been wildly exaggerated. (See
HC
3:58–60.)

Chapter 8

   The midday meal was finally finished. With everyone home again, the Steeds had once again moved the table outside and laid some planks across four sawhorses to accommodate the whole family. But even then the older children had to eat from their laps. Nathan and Lydia had come over right after breakfast and spent the morning visiting with Joshua’s family. Matthew had left for Haun’s Mill before dawn and returned with Jessica and John Griffith and their four children in midafternoon. The initial excitement of the reunion had tempered a little now, but the children were still talking excitedly with one another, making grand plans for the day. The women were clustered together, laying out the details of the wedding. Benjamin, Matthew, Derek, and Nathan were talking crops and harvesting. Savannah sat on her grandfather’s lap playing with a small braided leather snake Matthew had made for one of Jessica’s boys. She was so fascinated by its sinuous movements that she was totally engrossed and, for the moment, was completely quiet.

Joshua sat on the front step watching it all with some impatience. Finally, he could bear it no longer. He looked at Caroline until he caught her eye. He gave her a quizzical look. For a moment she was puzzled, then she laughed softly at him and nodded. “Yes, Joshua, I think it’s time.”

He stood and raised his hands. “All right, everybody,” he called, “we’ve waited long enough.” And then as all heads turned toward him he grinned. “We’ve got a birthday party to do.”

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