The Work and the Glory (80 page)

Finally the pall of smoke got to Nathan. Making sure all his fires were burning well, he moved over to the edge of a field of new wheat where the air was clear. As he breathed deep gulps of the cool air gratefully, he saw Father Morley leave his fires and come to join him.

“Niggering does have its drawbacks, don’t it?” he said easily.

Nathan nodded. “But I’ve cleared forest the other way too. I can live with a little smoke.”

“Agreed.” They fell silent and looked out across the fields towards the Morley home and barns.

“You have a beautiful farm here.”

That seemed to please him. “Took a while to get it to this point.”

“And now we’re takin’ it away from you.”

Morley gave him a sharp look. “Didn’t mean that.”

“I know, but it’s true, just the same. Here we are, all coming in and taking over your land.”

“Can’t be takin’ what is given freely,” Morley said evenly.

Nathan nodded, amazed again at the man’s attitude.

Not only had the gift been given, but what was more remarkable, there was no begrudging of it. This represented a loss of more than a few acres of prime farmland. But there was no resentment, no lingering regrets for his charity. That was clear in his eyes, on his face, and in his voice. The gift
had
been freely given. No one had taken it from him.

Morley suddenly raised his head, squinting into the morning sun. A woman was coming across the fields from the direction of the house. She was small, and Nathan instantly recognized her. It was Mother Smith.

She waved. “Nathan!” she called.

He felt his heart lurch. “Lydia!”

Father Morley clapped him on the shoulder. “Go. We can handle this.”

Nathan broke into a run, skirting the new wheat, then cutting across to meet Mother Smith.

“Has it started?” he called anxiously even before he reached her.

She smiled, taking his hand. “No, no, Lydia is fine. That baby ain’t ready to come quite yet. It’ll be tomorrow at least, maybe a day or two longer than that.”

“Are you sure?”

Her blue eyes sparkled with amusement. “Yes, I’m quite sure.”

“Oh.” He didn’t try to hide his disappointment, though he knew in a way it was best this way. Lydia still had the remnants of the terrible cough she picked up on the trip, and Nathan had been considerably worried about her. The warm weather was helping, but the cough had really drained her strength, and every day she could wait before having the baby would be a blessing.

“It’s Joseph.”

Nathan looked at her more closely. “Joseph?”

“Yes, he sent a boy from town. Says you’re to come to the house immediately. He’s on his way out with some news. Says to be waiting for him at the house.”

“What is it?”

Her shoulders lifted and dropped. “The boy didn’t say. Just said to have you there waiting. Parley’s already here.”

“Oh?” It had been a pleasant surprise for the group to learn that Parley Pratt had returned from Missouri in mid-March, but they hadn’t seen much of him since. He, Sidney Rigdon, and others had been doing missionary work in the surrounding settlements.

“Come on,” Mother Smith said, already turning to head back to the house. “Won’t do none to keep Joseph waiting with whatever news he’s bringing.”

Parley was there with Mother Morley, Lydia, and several of the rest of the sisters. They were laughing merrily as Nathan came into the house.

“Hello, Parley,” he said, striding across the room to grip his hand. “How good to see you again!”

“Shhh,” Lydia said. “Brother Parley’s right in the middle of telling us some of his missionary experiences.”

Parley gave him a look of helplessness and pointed to a chair. “Sit down, Nathan. Joseph’s not far behind me, but in the meantime these good sisters insist that I tell them the story of me and the constable’s dog.”

“The constable’s dog?”

Lydia smiled. “Start again, Brother Parley, so Nathan can hear.”

Parley ran a hand through his hair, obviously enjoying this. “Well, as I was saying, after Oliver and I and the others left Kirtland and continued westward, we passed through the neighborhood where I first lived out here. We stopped and found the people eager to hear more of the news of the Restoration. We stopped at the house of a man by the name of Simeon Carter. He treated us kindly and was responsive to our telling him about the Book of Mormon. But right as we were in the midst of speaking with him, there came a knock at the door.”

He’d evidently gotten this far before, because Lydia and several other sisters were nodding their encouragement to him.

“It was an officer from a magistrate who had issued an order for my arrest on some frivolous charge. I left the Book of Mormon with Carter, and Brother Ziba Peterson and I accompanied the man. I remember it well. It was dark and cold and the roads were very muddy and traveling was difficult.”

“So what happened?” one of the single young sisters asked.

“It was late in the evening when we arrived at the place of trial, but there was a whole group of men there to bear testimony against us.” He frowned. “False testimony, that is. The magistrate had also obtained a judge who bragged openly that it was his intention to thrust us into prison for the purpose of testing our apostleship.”

Parley sighed wearily. “We tried to tell him we were not Apostles, only elders, but it soon became obvious the whole thing was a mockery, and so I treated the proceedings with great contempt, making no attempt at defense.”

Nathan nodded, remembering the trials in South Bainbridge and Colesville and how far astray Lady Justice could sometimes be shoved.

Now Parley was into new material for the group, and they were listening intently. And as for him, he was really warming to his subject. Nathan had not seen this side of him in the brief time he had been at Fayette.

“Well, it didn’t take them long to pass sentence. Guilty I was. I had two choices: either I could pay them a substantial sum of money, of which I had not in the world, or I could go to prison. When I refused to answer such nonsense, I was tantalized, abused, and urged to settle the matter. Finally, I called upon Brother Peterson, and together we sang a hymn to the court. We sang ‘O How Happy Are They.’ “

Nathan chuckled. “I’ll bet they loved you for that.”

“To say that it exasperated them further,” Parley agreed with a sly grin, “would be to somewhat understate the matter. They began to press me most earnestly for the money. Fed up with the whole business by then, I stepped forward and made them a proposal.”

Lucy Mack Smith leaned forward. “What?”

“Said I, ‘If it please the court, I have a proposal for a final settlement. If the witnesses will repent of all their false swearing, and the judge of his wicked judgment and of his persecution, blackguardism, and abuse, we shall all kneel here together, and I will pray to God that he might forgive you in these matters.’”

Lydia clapped her hands in delight. “You didn’t.”

Parley nodded firmly. “I most certainly did.”

“I assume they did not accept your offer?” Mother Morley was smiling broadly.

“No,” he drawled. “They seemed less than enthusiastic. After some time, the court adjourned, and I was taken to a public house and locked in until morning, since the prison was some miles away from where we were.”

“What about Brother Ziba?” another sister asked.

“They released him and he was allowed to return to the others.” He took a breath, the merriment in his eyes now unmistakable. “Well, come morning, the officer, a Mr. Peabody, came to get me. He had with him this huge bulldog—biggest, ugliest dog I ever saw. About that same time, my brethren also arrived to see about my welfare. Speaking in an undertone, I urged them to continue their journey and promised that I would shortly join them. After they left, Mr. Peabody and I sat by the fire for a time, and then I asked if I could step out into the public square. He accompanied me, along with his dog.

“Whilst we were standing there, I turned to the officer. ‘Mr. Peabody,’ says I, ‘are you good at running a footrace?’ ‘No,’ he says; then, pointing to his companion, he says to me, ‘but my dog is, and he’s been trained for many years to assist me in my office. He will take any man down at my bidding.’

“‘Well,’ says I, ‘you have compelled me to go with you a mile, and I have gone with you twain. You have given me an opportunity to preach, to sing, and you have given me both lodging and breakfast. I must go on my journey now. If you are good at a race, you may accompany me. If not, good day, sir.’ And with that, I took off, determined to start on my journey as quickly as possible.”

The whole group was laughing now, the vividness of Parley’s imagery making laughter irresistible. “What did he do?” Nathan finally managed to get out.

With great seriousness, Parley went on. “For several moments, the man stood amazed. And even though I stopped, turned to him, and again invited him to a race, he still stood amazed. I then renewed my exertions, and increased my speed to something like that of a deer. Only then did he realize what I was about and started in pursuit. But by that time I had gained close to two hundred yards on him. I leaped over a fence and was heading for a patch of timber, where I hoped to take leave of his sight.

“He was coming after me now, hallooing and shouting at his dog to seize me. I could hear him behind me. ‘Stu-boy, stu-boy—take him—get him, boy—down with him.’”

A tiny smile began to play at the corner of his mouth. “Well, I could outrun the constable, but the dog was another matter. I looked over my shoulder and saw him bearing down on me. Just as he was about to leap at me, a thought popped into my mind, quick as lightning. ‘Why not assist the officer,’ I thought, ‘and send the dog on into the forest?’ So I clapped my hands, lifted my finger, and pointed in the same direction. ‘Stu-boy, stu-boy,’ I shouted, imitating the officer. ‘Get him, boy—take him down.’”

Nathan was laughing so hard that he could feel tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. Lydia was holding her stomach, trying to stop it from shaking.

“Well, that old dog hastened on past me, being urged forward by both his master and myself, all three of us running in the same direction. Needless to say, I split company with the two of them, and did not stop until I caught up with my companions later that evening.”

He sat back now, basking in the enjoyment of his audience. As the laughter still rippled through the room, a voice from behind them spoke. “A scripture comes to mind, Brother Parley.”

Surprised, they all turned to see the Prophet Joseph standing in the doorway. He too was chuckling and had obviously been listening for part of the story.

“What scripture, Brother Joseph?” Parley asked.

“It comes from the Sermon on the Mount. It says, ‘Give not that which is holy unto the dogs.’”

That started them all over again. “Please,” Lydia begged finally. “Stop, or I’ll have the baby this very day.”

“Well, it’s all right if you do”—Joseph paused, looking with pleasure at Lydia and Nathan, then smiled the more broadly and finished—“now.”

The group quieted, sensing something was up. Lydia looked puzzled.
Why now?
her eyes asked as she looked up at Joseph.

“If laughing alone can bring the baby, then I fear that a surprise or two might put you into instant labor.”

“A surprise?” Nathan asked, as bewildered as Lydia by the direction the conversation was taking.

“What is it?” Lydia leaned forward, watching Joseph intently.

He stepped back and another figure stepped into the doorway.

For a moment Nathan just gaped, then he leaped to his feet. “Ma!”

“Hello, Nathan. Hello, Lydia.”

In two strides Nathan was to Mary Ann and embracing her. He stepped back, incredulous. “But how did you...? When did...?”

Mary Ann just smiled and then looked at Lydia, who sat openmouthed. “Joseph said the baby hadn’t come yet. We’re not too late, then!”

When he saw how befuddled Nathan and Lydia looked, Joseph laughed right out loud. He turned to Lydia. “Well, I can see one surprise was not quite enough to do the trick. How about a few more?”

Without waiting for a response, he waved his hand. A small figure with blond hair came rocketing through the door. “Nathan! Nathan!” He hit Nathan about waist high, nearly bowling him over.

Lydia turned to stare in amazement. “Matthew?” she whispered. Then she looked up to the doorway. Tears sprang to her eyes. “Melissa! Becca!”

“See, Mama,” Melissa said, smiling through her own tears, “I told you Lydia would wait for us, didn’t I?”

The initial shock and the joyful greetings were over. Mother Smith and the other sisters had left so the family could be alone with Joseph and Parley. Nathan sat back, reeling, looking at his mother. “This is
my
father you’re talking about?”

His mother clasped her hands in delight. “Can you believe it?” she said softly.

Mary Ann sat on one side of Lydia on the sofa, Melissa sat on the other. Melissa had slipped one arm through Lydia’s and was holding it tightly. “We still haven’t come out of the daze yet,” she said. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, the joy still brimming over.

Lydia just shook her head, as she had been doing for the past five minutes. “I thought it would be at least a year before we ever saw you again. And here you are in Kirtland. Right here. I can’t believe it.”

Matthew spoke up. He had been patient long enough. “Lydia, when am I going to be an uncle?”

She became very solemn. “How about tomorrow?”

“Really?” His eyes got wide.

“Really?” Nathan echoed.

She laughed. “Why not? Mother Steed is here now and—” She stopped. Her voice was suddenly trembling, and she couldn’t finish. She waved her hand in front of her face, trying to make the tears stop. “I’m sorry.” She looked at her mother-in-law. “I just still can’t believe you’re here.”

Mary Ann put an arm around her shoulder and leaned her head against Lydia’s.

Matthew turned back to Nathan. “Papa said to tell you he sold your farm too.”

“Good.”

Becca broke in. “He should be here in another week or so.”