The Work and the Glory (490 page)

Another reason why the Steeds fared better than others was that they were some of Nauvoo’s more prosperous citizens. Thanks to Joshua’s earlier financial help and their own industry and cooperative spirit, they had done well for themselves. They did not have large cash reserves, but they had more than most. They were not absolutely dependent upon the sale of their homes or property in order to finance their preparations. In addition to that, several of the family enterprises were naturally suited to the task of preparation. Matthew’s cabinet shop became the new Steed “wagon factory.” Joshua’s blacksmith shop at the freight yard meant they didn’t have to wait for the huge backlogs in the commercial blacksmith shops around town. The Steed Family Dry Goods and General Store gave them natural access to many of the personal items that were on the list, such as spices, cloth, tools, and so on. Added to that was Joshua’s extensive network of commercial contacts built up over a decade of hauling freight and running a cotton mill in St. Louis. Items that could not be had even at outrageous prices by others, Joshua was able to procure for the family at semi-reasonable prices. Even Carl’s brickyards proved to be an indirect blessing to the family. With the decision to move, construction of new homes all but stopped in Nauvoo, which sharply curtailed the market for bricks. Carl closed one of his drying sheds and gave it over to the family. Half became the “sewing shop” for the women; the other half was used to store the food and growing stack of supplies they were gathering. In addition, with slight adaptation, one of the brick kilns was converted into an oven for drying the lumber procured for the construction of their wagons.

At the October conference, the Twelve proposed ending the printing of the
Nauvoo Neighbor
and that the
Times and Seasons
be printed on a more limited basis until the end of the current year. The money used for paper and mailing was needed for far more critical purchases. That meant Peter’s time at the printing office dropped by more than half. Once the double wedding was over and Will and Alice left for St. Louis, Peter and Kathryn became the recorders, treasurers, accountants, and clerks for their family company.

So as October closed out and November came in, the hum of activity filled the air all across the city. Over all, there lay a mood of sadness that the Saints had to leave their beloved City of Joseph. But there was also a growing air of anticipation. They were going west to find a new home. They would find a place where they could live without the constant persecution of their neighbors. Until then, they would try to make life as normal as possible.

Emily Steed stood at the small mirror in her bedroom, peering at the image before her. “Rachel?”

Her cousin was sprawled across the bed, watching her with large, solemn eyes. “Yes?”

“Do you think I look like I’m sixteen?”

Rachel smiled. She would be fourteen in January. Emily had turned thirteen on July fifth, just four months earlier. Both were maturing now, starting to look like young women and not just girls, but Emily was definitely ahead of Rachel in that regard. Though slender and supple, her body was filling out, making her waist look all the more tiny. Her eyes were large and dark—the color of rich saddle leather—and shaded by enormous black lashes. Her hair, now down past her shoulders, was thick and black and lustrous. Emily’s features, striking enough to draw comment since the time she was a little girl, were growing even more attractive now as she made the transformation to young womanhood. Rachel watched her, feeling a touch of envy, wondering what it would be like to be so naturally beautiful.

“Well?” Emily said, turning and putting her hands on her hips.

“Well what?” Rachel asked, startled out of her reverie.

“Do I look like I could be sixteen? The other day Papa told Mama that it made him sad because I look like I’m sixteen.”

“Why would that make him sad?”

There was a sigh, evidence of great suffering. “Because he doesn’t want me to grow up, I suppose.” Her lower lip jutted out slightly. “You’re not going to answer me, are you?”

Sitting up, Rachel laughed. “No, Emily, I don’t think you look like you’re sixteen. Fifteen and a half maybe, but not sixteen.”

“Really?” Emily asked eagerly, turning back to survey herself again.

“Really,” Rachel assured her. Though Rachel felt quite the inferior to Emily when it came to physical attractiveness, there was no strain between the two cousins because of it. First of all, while Emily was keenly aware of her beauty and enjoyed the effect that it had on young men, Nathan and Lydia had gone to some lengths to stress that beauty was a gift from God and therefore not a basis for pride or conceit. Emily not only accepted that idea, she believed it. She had never once acted as though she saw herself as superior to Rachel in any way.

In reality—and this would have shocked Rachel greatly if she knew it—Emily carried a bit of envy for Rachel. Rachel was beloved by everyone in the family and by all who knew her. Taller than Emily by almost two inches—one of the primary reasons for the envy—Rachel had a quiet loveliness of her own that made her stand out from other young women. Her hair, medium brown and never cut, hung almost to her waist and glowed in the light like aged honey. Near the end, it curled naturally into gentle ringlets. Her skin was as smooth as expensive porcelain, setting off the large blue eyes. These were darker than one might expect, like the deep blue of lake water on a summer day. And where Emily was vivacious, full of life, impetuous, and daring, Rachel was more reflective, slower to judge, more mature in her outlook. Those differences, and the mutual envy and respect they held for each other, made them closer than many sisters and the best of friends.

Emily turned back around. “Well, are you ready?”

Rachel didn’t move. “Are you sure we’ve been invited?”

“Of course,” Emily said airily. “Vilate and Helen Mar asked me just this afternoon.”

“But—”

“They specifically asked me to be sure and bring you.” She reached out and took Rachel’s hands and pulled her up. “I swear.”

Rachel’s shoulders lifted and fell. The thoughts of this evening excited and frightened her at the same time. These weren’t just any girls they were going to be with. Vilate Young was the daughter of President Young. Helen Mar Kimball was the daughter of Heber C. Kimball, the chief Apostle behind President Young. Others would also be children of prominent Church leaders. She managed a smile. “Is Joshua coming?”

Emily frowned. “No. He has guard duty tonight. He wanted to.” There was suddenly a mischievous grin. “Mary Beth Sanders is going to be very disappointed.”

Rachel considered that for a moment, then squared her shoulders, as though steeling herself to face something difficult. “All right,” she sighed.

Emily laughed. “It will be fun, you watch,” she said. Then on impulse, she threw her arms around her cousin. “I know this isn’t a happy time for our people, Rachel, but I’m so glad your family has come to live in Nauvoo now. When you were in Ramus, I missed you so.”

At that, Rachel could nod without reservation. She enjoyed Ramus, particularly the role she had in helping her mother with the school. And her mother’s marriage to Solomon Garrett had proven to be a wonderful blessing for all of them. But Nauvoo was so alive compared to those small outlying settlements. And then to have the family too—she was glad they would spend their last months here and not out there.

“I just love Uncle Solomon,” Emily said, as if sensing her thoughts. “He has made your mother so happy.”

“Yes,” Rachel said softly. “And us too. He is very good to us.” Her chin dropped slightly and her cheeks colored momentarily. “He is going to legally adopt us before we leave in the spring.”

Emily clapped her hands. “Really? That’s wonderful, Rachel!”

“Yes.”

Stepping back, Emily was suddenly sober. “So now it will be Rachel Garrett.”

“Yes.”

“And when you’re married, just think of it. You’ll have four last names. First you were a Steed, and then a Griffith. Now you will be a Garrett.” She paused for a moment, impishness in her eyes. “And someday, you’ll be Mrs. Barnett.”

Rachel’s cheeks went instantly crimson and Emily laughed aloud. On a visit to Nauvoo some months before, Solomon Garrett had stopped at the Browning gunsmith shop to have a pistol fixed. Afterwards, chortling triumphantly, and to Rachel’s complete mortification, Mark and Luke had told everyone that one of the boys working in the shop had talked with Rachel the whole time, inquiring after her name and seeming quite disappointed when he learned she was not from Nauvoo.

“What shall we call you then?” Emily mused, thoroughly enjoying Rachel’s discomfiture. She struck an exaggerated pose. “Good morning,” she said in a deep voice, “and how are you, Sister Rachel Steed Griffith Garrett Barnett?”

Rachel slapped at her playfully. And then, face flaming, she added shyly, “Sister Barnett will be just fine.”

Emily rocked back a little, shocked by such candor. “Rachel Garrett!” she exclaimed.

“Come on,” Rachel said, pleased to have taken Emily by surprise for once, “we’d better go.”

As they started out the door, Emily got suddenly very serious. “Do you ever think of Uncle Joshua as your natural father anymore, Rachel?”

Rachel was startled. “No, not really.”

“He tries not to show it, but you can tell he treats you differently than the other cousins.”

“I don’t think so. I never really knew him as my father, you know. I was very small when . . . when Mother left him.”

“I know.”

“Mother never tried to hide it from me, but she told me once that it would be easier for her, easier for Joshua, and easier for me if we just forgot the past and let things take a different course now. So to me, he’s just Uncle Joshua.”

“Mama says it was Joshua who sent Solomon to see Aunt Jessica’s school. He was hoping they might fall in love.”

“I know. My mother says that too.”

“It is
so
romantic,” Emily said dreamily. “I wish I had all those wonderful things in my life.” She twirled around, her eyes half-closed. “Emily Steed”—she fluttered her eyelids—“Eberhardt.”

Rachel just laughed. “Oh, Emily, you’re so silly. Now, come on, let’s go or we’ll be late. And Charles Eberhardt won’t like that one little bit.”

As they came down the stairs, Nathan and Lydia were in the sitting room with two of their other children. Lydia looked up, then stood immediately. She went to the two girls and gave them an appraising look. “You both look lovely,” she said.

Nathan was grinning. “Rachel, try to keep a rein on Emily for us, will you?”

“Ah!” Emily grunted in dismay. “I think it should be the other way around. You should have heard what your niece just said.”

“What?”

Horrified, Rachel gave her a sharp look. Emily just laughed and shook her head. “Maybe later, Papa.” She moved in and kissed him on the cheek, then bent down to two-year-old little Joseph, who was sitting at his father’s feet, playing with some wooden blocks. “Bye, Joseph. Will you give Emmy a kiss?”

He dropped the blocks, stood, and gave her a resounding hug and a sloppy kiss on the cheek. Elizabeth Mary, a precocious seven now, was reading a book. She smiled at her sister. “Bye, Emmy.”

“Bye, Elizabeth Mary.” She looked around. “Where’s Josiah?”

“Sleeping over at Christopher and young Benjamin’s house,” Lydia answered. She gave Emily one last hug. “You two have fun, now.”

“We will, Mama.”

As they left a moment later, Nathan looked to his wife. “Well, they seem excited enough.”

“But of course,” Lydia said wisely. “Don’t you know what this is all about?”

“A get-together with some of the girls?”

“Yes,” she said, smiling. “At the Young house.”

“I thought they were going to be outside. The weather’s nice enough.”

Lydia gave him a patient look. “It will be outside. Don’t you know which men stand guard outside the home of Brigham Young?”

Now Nathan’s head came up. “John Kay,” he said slowly.

“And Howard Egan,” she added.

“I see,” he said, understanding finally dawning. “So that’s it?”

“The young people love both of those men. Howard is a great one for telling stories. He’ll have the whole circle of them laughing until their sides hurt.”

“And Kay—isn’t he the one who sings?”

“Yes. He has a wonderful baritone voice. They all love to hear him.” Now she laughed merrily. “In fact, I taught him a song the other day when he came in the store.”

Nathan turned and gave her a quizzical look. “You did? Which one?”

“‘Barbara Allen.’”

“Ah!” It came out in a soft expression of surprise and pleasure.

“I think he’ll sing it to them tonight.”

“But John Kay and Howard Egan are married.”

She shook her head patiently. “Howard and John only provide the excuse for the young people to get together. It’s being together that they like.” She turned away from him to look out the window. The sound of girls laughing came in softly through the glass. “The one Emily is all agog over is Charles Eberhardt. She’s a young woman now, Nathan. There are some girls in the city who are getting married at fourteen, you know.”

He snorted in disgust. “Not with the encouragement of the Church leaders.”

“Oh, I know, and I don’t want Emily to be thinking about it for two or three years yet, but it’s good for them to be out among the young people. And Rachel too. Did you see how radiant she looked?”

“Yes,” he agreed. “She has become a beautiful young woman.”

She laughed softly. “The other night when they were all together, Heber’s boy William hitched up a wagon. They all climbed aboard and then persuaded John Kay to take them for a ride in the moonlight.”

There was a noticeable frown. “While he was on guard duty?”

“Oh, it was all right,” Lydia said with a touch of reproach for his stuffiness. “Emily said that all they did was go around the block over and over so that each time they would pass Brigham’s gate, John could see that all was in order.”

“I see.”

“They had so much fun. That’s why Emily wanted to take Rachel tonight.”