Now she looked up at him, and her eyes were glistening. “Joshua, you know your horses better than you do your own son.” And with that, she turned and walked down the hallway and out into the night.
Lydia stood across the table, watching as Nathan toyed with the last of the meat on his plate. His eyes were down and it was obvious that his mind was a long way from anywhere on Granger Street.
She turned around, looking to where young Joshua and Emily were piling up the supper dishes at the sink. “Joshua, why don’t you and Emily take Elizabeth Mary outside and play for a little before it gets dark.”
Young Joshua’s head came up sharply and he stared at his mother. Emily’s eyes got big. “Really?” she said.
“Yes. The dishes can wait for a while. Go on, now.”
“What about Josiah?” young Joshua asked.
Lydia looked around. The baby was in the high chair his Uncle Matthew had made for him when he was born. He was still eating the corn Lydia had cut from off the cob, concentrating intently as he tried to pick up each kernel with his fat little fingers. “He’s fine. I’ll watch him.”
Nathan finally looked up, as if waking from sleep. At this particular Steed household, nothing happened after supper until the table was cleared, the dishes done, and everything put in its place. There were no exceptions. Young Joshua saw the puzzled look on his father’s face and leaped into action before Nathan could contradict Lydia’s order. “Come on, Lizzie. Emmy, you get Lizzie’s sweater.”
In hardly the time it took to take a full breath, they were out the door. Once they were gone, Lydia came over and sat across the table from her husband, stretching out to put her hand in his.
“What brought that on?” he asked.
“I’m ready to hear what you have to say.”
He started a little, then almost immediately grinned. “Do you suppose we’ve been married too long?”
She laughed lightly. “No. Now I only know when something is on your mind. When I know
what
it is, then maybe we’ll have been married too long.”
“I think you already do.”
“You’re thinking about having to leave me in two more days.”
“Yes, partly.”
“What else?”
“About Will and Joshua.”
She shook her head. “Caroline said Joshua just won’t let it be.”
“I know.” He sighed. “I hate the thought of leaving, but I’m glad I’m going to be up there with them.”
“I know,” she agreed. “Now I’m beginning to wonder if I told Will the right thing when I told him he needed to go.”
“You did,” he answered firmly. “If he didn’t go, I’m not sure Joshua would ever quite forgive him.”
“But . . .”
He smiled again at her perceptiveness. “But this isn’t just about Jenny. Joshua sees this as his chance to work on the other problem.”
“What other problem?”
“Will wanting to be a Mormon.”
She started to answer, then the impact of what he had just said sunk in and she stopped, nodding slowly.
“Joshua has openly said it to Carl. Get Will out away from all this Mormon influence and he’ll come to his senses about that too.”
“Especially with Joshua coaching him,” she confirmed.
“That’s right.” He reached out and laid a hand on hers. “And it’s not like that crew Joshua’s hired are some of the world’s more spiritual giants. Oh, there’s a few good brethren among them, but the bigger share of them are teamsters or day laborers. And he’s going to have to hire a lot of locals up there.”
“You need to be there for Will, Nathan.”
He nodded. “The closest of our camps will be only about a mile from where Joshua plans to cut timber. I’ll get to see Will once or twice a week.”
“Will is still struggling too much with his own doubts,” she murmured. “He doesn’t need Joshua hammering at him day after day with no one else to talk to.” She was talking quickly now, not letting herself think about Nathan’s leaving. “I’m glad you’re going to be there.”
She got up and walked around the table to him. Josiah, seeing her pass, raised his arms, but she just smiled at him. She pulled Nathan up to face her, then cuddled in against him, ignoring Josiah’s protesting squawk. She buried her head against his chest, not wanting him to see the first of the tears that were starting to come. “I can hardly wait for Christmas,” she said faintly.
The three-quarter moon was softly diffused through a high, thin layer of clouds, leaving the landscape muted and ghostly. Will was glad for it. Though cool enough that Jenny wore a shawl, it was a perfect night. The moon had risen in the afternoon, looking like some transparent globe pasted up against the bright blue eastern sky. Now it was on the latter part of its journey, heading toward the western horizon, huge and golden and beautiful. It left a shimmering path across the river below them.
They were standing beneath a young hickory tree up on the bluffs, just a few rods off of the Nauvoo-Carthage Road. Will reached up and snapped off a small branch, then slowly began to strip the leaves into shreds and let them flutter to the ground.
“It’s a beautiful moon tonight, isn’t it?” he said, gazing out across the city below them.
“It’s perfect. Just perfect.”
“It’ll be full in a few days. And then it will have to get full two more times before I get back to see you again.”
“Don’t, Will.”
He turned to look at her.
“Let’s talk about something else. Please.”
“It won’t make leaving you any easier,” he growled huskily.
She turned and looked up at him. His eyes moved slowly across her face. Her skin was translucent in the pale light, looking like some gossamer veil. Now her hair was combed out and full, glinting like harvest wheat as it cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. Her lips were parted slightly, which only accented their full richness. Her eyes were large and dark and dizzying.
He stepped forward and took her by the shoulders. For several seconds they just looked at each other; then she tipped her head back just a fraction and slowly closed her eyes. Gingerly, hesitantly, Will bent his head and kissed her. Though he had kissed her a few times previously, now it was as if he had never kissed her before. The sweetness of it was almost startling to him, and he feared that once it ended he would not be able to recapture it in quite that same way ever again.
When he finally straightened, she did not open her eyes, or move her head. So he kissed her again. This time her arms came up and went around his neck and she kissed him back. Her longing was as poignant as his. Her tenderness matched his own. And he was proven wrong almost in an instant—the second was far sweeter than the first.
Finally, he stepped back, a little dazed. “I . . .” He grinned, shyly now. “That was nice.”
“Yes,” she murmured. She put her arms around his chest and leaned against him. “Very nice.”
He put his arms around her now as well. “I’m going to miss you, Jenny Pottsworth.”
“Then don’t go,” she said softly.
He looked down at her, a little taken aback. “What?”
She stepped back, her eyes wide open now and fierce with intensity. “Don’t go, Will.”
“Jenny, I have to go. You know that.”
“No!” she exploded. “Tell your father you have to stay. Don’t leave me.”
“Jenny . . .”
“Do you want to leave me, Will?”
“You know I don’t. It’s all I can think about anymore.”
“Then don’t,” she said, as though it were really that simple.
“I made a commitment to my father, Jenny. I can’t back out of it. Not in light of everything else.”
“Everything else?” she cried. “What do you owe him? If it weren’t for him, you’d be baptized by now.”
“No,” he said slowly, “I’m not sure I would be. I—”
“Will, I know you love him. And rightly so. And that’s what’s holding you back. If your father was a Mormon, you’d be one by now.”
He hadn’t thought of it in quite that way, and finally he bobbed his head once. “Maybe so, but talking about ifs doesn’t buy much in terms of making things better. I’m sorry, Jenny. I do love Pa, and I’ve promised him that I’m going with him.”
“Oh!” She whirled away, hugging herself as though suddenly chilled. Now her voice was contrite. “I know, Will. I know. I’m sorry. I promised myself I wouldn’t make this harder.”
“It’s all right.” He moved to her and put his arms around her waist from behind, pulling her against him, feeling the warmth of her body against his chest as she continued to keep her arms folded. But she leaned back against him, liking the feel of being in the circle of his protection.
They stood that way for several minutes, only moving enough to turn and face the river and the moon again. Finally, Jenny straightened a little. “Will?”
“Yes.”
What she said next came out with considerable hesitancy. “When Matthew went to England, he . . . he asked Jennifer Jo if she would be promised to him.”
He didn’t release her, but now he was very still. “Yes, I know.”
“I . . . Have you even thought about that?”
He let her go, turning her around to face him, suddenly and keenly feeling her vulnerability. “Yes, Jenny, I have. I have thought about it a great deal.”
“And?”
“I’m not sure if that’s what you want,” he finally said, groping for words to express why he hadn’t talked about it before. “I don’t know if I could bear it if I asked you and you turned me down.”
“And you think I would?”
“I thought you wouldn’t marry someone who wasn’t a Mormon.”
“What if you promised me that you will be baptized?”
That took his breath away a little. It was a bargain, pure and simple, that she was offering him. It was more than he dared to hope for and, at the same time, more than he could comfortably commit to. “And if I did?” He spoke very quietly now. “Then would you agree to be promised to me?”
She tried to hold his gaze, but she couldn’t and finally turned her head aside. “I’m not sure if I can bear to have you leave for six months, even if you do come home for a visit at Christmas.”
His eyes were hooded now, and his face was grave. He was glad she wasn’t looking at him. “Suppose I promised you I would be baptized, and I stayed home . . .”
“Oh, yes, Will,” she cried, turning to face him again. She went up and kissed him hard. “I would be promised to you this very night.”
It was the most curious sensation he had ever experienced. A shaft of pure joy jolted through him, blazing through his being and lighting it up like the first rays of the dawn. To think that she would say yes if he asked her to marry him—it was more than he could have hoped. But at the same time, the coldness swept in as well—dark, permeating, total. She was asking the two things of him that he could not give, not without compromising too much. Slowly he began to shake his head. He stepped back. “I have to go, Jenny. I have to.”
For what seemed like an eternity, she looked at him with those enormous eyes. Then finally she nodded, and forced a fleeting smile. “I understand.”
“Do you?”
“Yes, Will. I really do.” Now the smile broadened. It was forced still, but it was her earnest effort to make him believe her. Then before he could ask her any more questions, she slipped her arm through his. “Come on,” she said, with forced brightness. “It’s too beautiful to stand around here moping. Let’s walk.”
They did, not talking much now, just being together. Tomorrow night, the last night before their departure, Will and Joshua and Nathan would be at the big family farewell dinner. So this was Will and Jenny’s last night together for a long time, and they both knew it.
And now that you know I can’t promise that I’ll be baptized, and that I have to go to Wisconsin, now what would you say if I asked you to be promised to me? Would you say yes with the same excitement in your voice that I heard a minute ago?
But Jenny didn’t bring up the subject again, and Will didn’t have the courage to ask her that question unless she did. He couldn’t. Because he was afraid he already knew what her answer would be.
On Wednesday, they caught the first morning steamboat headed upriver. There were well over a hundred men leaving, between Joshua’s crew and the brethren called to the pineries by the Church. The temple was moving along well now. The Nauvoo House—the hotel that would not only be a place for entertaining the increasing number of important visitors to Nauvoo but also provide accommodations for Joseph and Emma’s family—was under way as well. Lumber for these two projects,
as well as for the burgeoning growth in the city, was a critical necessity.
All the Steeds were there to see their three men off. Joshua was ebullient. Although he would certainly miss Caroline and the children, this was a new adventure for him. Since the exploratory trip the previous winter, he had been anxious to get back and start cutting timber. If his projections were right—and in reality, they were most likely quite conservative—by spring he would make a small fortune. And he would share that with Will. At eighteen, his son would be a well-to-do businessman in his own right. Then he could have any young woman in the city, and not just be fawning over the Pottsworth girl.
Will was subdued, but not downcast. He and Jenny talked quietly off to one side until they heard the whistle, and the boat came around the great bend in the river. Then he gave her a quick kiss and went over to be with his mother and sisters.
The smaller of Nathan’s children clung to him. Elizabeth Mary was crying. Emily was trying to be brave. Young Joshua stood tall, showing his papa that he could be the man of the house as they had discussed the night before. Lydia had vowed that she would not cry. But at the last minute, as the boat docked and the gangplank came down, the baby suddenly started to wail. Josiah could barely say “Papa,” but somehow he knew Nathan was leaving. He held out his arms for his father and started to scream. And that broke down the last of Lydia’s resolve and she began to cry too, shushing him and rocking him back and forth.
They watched and waved as the boat backed out away from the dock, then started forward again, paddles churning furiously, black smoke belching into the crisp morning air. Some of the people started moving away then, but the Steed family stayed until the boat rounded the curve of the river and disappeared behind the trees. Then they too started back toward Steed Row.