“What?” He sat down beside her.
“I would like to say something to you. I want you to listen. I will tell you how I feel. I will tell you what I would hope will happen when you get to St. Louis. But then I will trust you to do what’s best.”
He started to smile, about to make another teasing remark, but the look in her eyes changed his mind and he finally just nodded. “All right.”
“I mean it. You know Walter best. You know your son. You know Alice. You’ll need to take all of that into consideration. But you need to understand and believe something yourself.”
“All right, I’m listening.”
She was watching him carefully. “What I’m telling you is this. Alice talked to Lydia. Lydia told her about the terrible time that she had with her parents. Alice is fully aware that her parents may reject her. The fact that she decided to go ahead and be baptized means that she has decided that if she has to choose, it will not be to stay with her parents.”
She stopped, wanting him to think about that.
Finally he nodded. “Yes, I see that.”
She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, hands gripped together, staring across the room at the opposite wall. Her face was twisting, tormented now. From the side, he saw just a hint of the sudden tremor in her lower lip. The change was so sudden, so dramatic, that it caught him off guard.
“What’s the matter, Caroline?”
“Joshua, it was fifteen months ago that we lost our Olivia.”
He started at that. That was not what he had expected. “Yes?” he said cautiously.
“I know how badly you miss her, even now, after all this time.”
His voice was low now, and very soft. “I do. I think about her every day.”
“So do I.” She sat back and looked up at him fully. There were tears in her eyes now. “You weren’t Olivia’s natural father, Joshua. But that didn’t matter, did it? Before long, Will and Olivia were as much your children as mine. Olivia loved you very much, Joshua.”
“I know.” It came out hoarse and strained, and he had to look away, blinking quickly at the burning in his own eyes.
She turned back to stare at the wall. There was a long silence, and then, “Alice is only a year older than Olivia would have been now.”
His eyes widened a little. He hadn’t thought of Alice in that way.
“I know she can never take Olivia’s place. Not even our little Livvy can do that. But . . .” Now the tremor had crept into her voice. “I would very much like having an older daughter again, Joshua. I would like that very much.”
He reached out and began to rub her back very softly and slowly. He leaned over and brushed her shoulder with his lips, then laid his head against it.
“Help her, Joshua. Walter has so much respect for you. He trusts your judgment. Help Alice so that it won’t be such a terrible cost for her to choose Will and become a Mormon.” Now she turned her body so that she faced him squarely. “If you do that, Alice will come to love you like Olivia came to love you. That’s what I want you to think about tomorrow as you start downriver with Alice and Will.”
Chapter Notes
On receiving word of the tragedy in Yelrome and its surrounding areas, sBrigham immediately called on the brethren to send wagons south to get the people and their goods, including their grain. One hundred thirty-four wagons were pledged and left soon after the call. (See
HC
7:442–43.)
The story of Joseph’s prophecy about Porter Rockwell’s hair is told in Richard Lloyd Dewey,
Porter Rockwell: A Biography
(New York: Paramount Books, 1986), p. 77.
The story of Jacob Backenstos’s having to flee for his life and calling on the Mormons to save him, including Porter Rockwell’s killing Frank Worrell, is told here as it is reported in the official history of the Church, with the obvious addition of Joshua and Nathan Steed to the scene (see
HC
7:446–47).
Chapter 19
They were at the riverboat landing at the south end of Main Street. There was a substantial throng of people, all saying their farewells. The arriving passengers had disembarked and were gone. Now it was time for those headed south to get aboard.
Though Joshua and Will would be gone for only a few days, and though they expected that Alice would soon return to the City of Joseph, with one exception all of the family had come to see them off. It was their unspoken way of letting Alice know she had another family now, no matter what happened in St. Louis. The exception was Carl and Melissa. That was not by choice. Carl was having some serious problems with his number one kiln at the brickyard, and Mary Melissa, their youngest, had been fighting a bad case of the shakes for the past day and a half, and Melissa did not dare leave her. But the rest, including all of the children, had come down to say good-bye.
Once she had finished giving Alice a good hug and wishing Will a quiet but fervent “Good luck,” Kathryn McIntire rolled her wheelchair out of the way. When she saw Joshua was also standing back, watching the family say their good-byes, she pushed herself over beside him.
“Hi,” she said.
He looked around, then gave her an immediate answering smile. “Hello, Katydid.”
She chuckled softly. One night at the beginning of the summer, they had been over at his house, out in the yard. The katydids had started their noisy chorus, and Joshua said it sounded just like her when she was trying to get Matthew and Jenny to let her try out the crutches or something. Since then, it had been his nickname for her.
She looked over and watched Alice for a moment. “Is it going to be awful?” she asked, looking back up at Joshua.
He shook his head slowly. “I don’t know. Walter Samuelson is a strong-minded man. And Mormonism turns his blood cold.”
“Sounds like someone else I once knew,” she said evenly.
He jerked up at that, then instantly grinned. “Wouldn’t be anyone I know, by chance?”
“Oh, no,” she said with mock gravity.
“So, I guess you wouldn’t consider changing your mind?”
“About what?”
“Why don’t we let Peter marry Alice and then you could marry Will?” he asked gravely, though his eyes were twinkling a little.
Now she laughed aloud, tipping her head back, letting her hair fall across her shoulders. He had always teased her about having Will marry her. And what touched her about it was that he really meant it—not the actual marriage, but that he would have her gladly as his daughter-in-law. She gave him a measured look, matching his solemnity in tone. “I told you once. If I could get Will’s father to join the Church, I might be tempted.”
“Almost thou persuadest me.”
Her eyes widened in shock. “Joshua Steed quoting scripture?”
He looked horrified. “Was that scripture?”
“Yes,” she answered merrily. “It was King Agrippa’s answer to the Apostle Paul. He said, ‘Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.’”
“Swear that you won’t tell anyone,” he said, pretending to be totally cowed now.
She laughed again. “Uncle Joshua, I sure hope you can be at the wedding, because you make me laugh.”
He pulled a face. “When you’re getting married, you’re not supposed to need someone to make you laugh.”
She slapped playfully at him. “You know what I mean. You’re—” To her surprise, she had to stop. Suddenly her eyes were burning and her throat had tightened into a knot. “You’re the only one who really understands me and why I’ve been so difficult to live with this past while.”
If she was surprised at her reaction, she was all the more so at his. He stared at her for a moment, then had to look away. “Thank you,” he finally mumbled. Then, gratefully, above their heads, the steam whistle on the riverboat let out a long blast, causing everyone on the dock to jump. It let off a second blast, signaling that the boat was getting ready to depart.
He picked up his valise as Savannah came running up. “It’s time to go, Papa.”
“I know. Go get Alice and Will.” As she darted away, on impulse Joshua bent down and kissed Kathryn on the cheek. “See you, Katydid.”
“See you, Uncle Hardhead.”
He laughed and started away, but she grabbed his hand. “It will be all right,” she promised. “If Mr. Samuelson won’t listen to reason, tell him that you’ll no longer be his partner.”
He hooted at that. “Why don’t I just push him in the river?”
“That was my next suggestion,” she replied with an impish smile.
As the family moved up and away from the boat landing and approached the intersection of Water and Granger Streets, Nathan decided the opportunity was a good one. The children were already out ahead of the adults, calling to each other and playing a running game of tag. The four oldest—young Joshua, Emily, Rachel, and Luke—were hanging back, liking the feeling that they were adults now and not children any longer. That was good too, he thought. He wanted the older ones to be part of this. “I have something I’d like to say to all of you,” he said without preamble.
The conversations stopped and they looked at him in surprise. Lydia gave him a querying look, but he just smiled. He raised a hand to his mouth and called. “Mark? Savannah?”
The two oldest of the remaining children looked back.
“We’re going to rest for a minute here,” Nathan called. “You can go on, but will you make sure the younger ones stay out of the road if a wagon comes?”
“Yes, Uncle Nathan.” Then, delighted to be freed from the assumed restraint, the children broke into a ragged run, whooping and hollering as they went.
“Savannah!” Caroline cried. “Watch Livvy!”
“Yes, Mama,” came the reply.
“Elizabeth Mary!” Lydia called. “You take Joseph by the hand.”
“Yes, Mother.”
In a moment, they were gone. Nathan motioned toward the shade of a large oak tree. “Let’s stop here.”
Openly curious now, they gathered in beneath the tree in a half circle facing him. Jenny whispered something to Lydia, but she shrugged, as puzzled as the rest of them.
For a moment, Nathan didn’t speak. He was collecting his thoughts, trying to decide how best to start. Then he decided that hitting it square on was perhaps the best way.
“What I am about to say I wanted to say when certain of our family were not here—Joshua, Melissa, and Carl.” He held up one hand quickly. “Not that it’s a secret, but . . . well, you’ll see why in a moment.”
That certainly caught their attention, and they watched him closely now.
“I think it was wonderful that we could all come down to see Alice off today. It’s our way of lending our faith to hers, giving more strength to her and Will. And unfortunately, I’m afraid they are going to need everything they can get. So I have a suggestion.”
“What is it, Papa?” Emily asked.
She was standing beside him, looking up at him.
“I was reading in the Book of Mormon early this morning. I came across a passage in Alma that talked about how the Church should care for one another. It says something like this: ‘The children of God were commanded to gather together oft and to join in fasting and mighty prayer in behalf of the welfare of the souls of those who knew not God.’”
Now Lydia understood, and spoke softly. “Like Walter and Judith Samuelson?”
“Yes.”
“A wonderful idea, Nathan,” Jenny said, looking at Matthew, who was nodding.
“They should be arriving in St. Louis day after tomorrow,” said Nathan. “I’d like to propose that we start after our lunch meal. We’ll skip dinner tonight, fast tomorrow, then all meet at our house tomorrow night for supper. We’ll have a family prayer before we break the fast.” He turned to Lydia. “Is that all right?”
“Of course. I think it’s a wonderful idea.”
“What about Melissa?” Kathryn asked.
“I’ll tell Melissa and Carl. They may not be pleased that Alice is joining the Church, but they both feel strongly that Alice is right for Will and they don’t want her to lose her family.”
“Yes,” Lydia said. “I’ll go with you to tell Melissa.”
“Good,” Nathan said, pleased that they had caught the spirit of what he was proposing. He looked at the four youth. “You older children can join with us too. Your faith is just as strong, if not stronger, than ours.”
“I would like that,” Rachel said. The others nodded as well.
“Thank you, Nathan, for suggesting this,” Caroline said, obviously touched.
“There’s something else,” he said, more hesitantly now.
“What?” Solomon Garrett asked.
Nathan inhaled deeply, then let it out in a long, slow sigh. “I think we all know that we are rapidly approaching a major family crisis.”
“A crisis?” Jessica asked. Some of the others looked bewildered, but Caroline was slowly nodding her head.
“Yes.” He was very somber now, the weight of what he was about to say resting heavily on him. “In light of what has recently happened, I don’t think there is any question about whether we will be leaving Nauvoo now. Come spring, Brigham is going to take us west to the Rocky Mountains. It’s September now. So in six months, our lives will change forever.”
Now they understood, and the reality of it was terribly sobering. Nathan looked at Matthew and Jenny. “Is there any question in your mind about whether or not you will go?”
Matthew seemed surprised. “None,” he answered right back.
Jenny shook her head as she slipped an arm through his. “No.”
He turned. “Derek? Rebecca?”
They too moved closer together. “No, no question.”
He looked at Jessica and Solomon. They shook their heads.
Now he looked at Kathryn and at Peter, who stood behind her wheelchair. “It will be the most difficult for you,” Nathan said quietly. “Will you go?”
“Of course,” Kathryn said without hesitation. She patted the wheels. “I’ll just hook up a yoke of oxen to this thing, and I’ll be fine.”
Finally he turned to Caroline. Her eyes were shining and she was looking past him. He couldn’t bear to ask her. He didn’t have to. Here there was no surety. Here there was no answer. He looked around the circle. “And Melissa and Carl? Do you think they will go?”
No one spoke, but from their expressions it was clear that most would have answered with no.
“And this time, we won’t just be moving from Kirtland to Nauvoo. We’re talking more than twelve hundred miles, with no riverboats, no railways, no stage lines, not even any major roads. Once we leave, it’s very unlikely that we will ever come back, at least not for a long time.”