About twenty or thirty yards in, a flash of yellow a few rows over caught his eye. For a moment he saw her clearly, then she moved on behind another tree. He stopped for a moment, remembering how he had gaped at her like a kid in a candy shop that day outside the store when Joshua had introduced them for the first time. Even now he felt a quick rush of envy that Joshua should be courting this storekeeper’s daughter.
Suddenly he wanted to move up quietly, get another look at her before she saw him. Feeling a little foolish, he moved quietly through the thick green carpet of grass and weeds. As he closed in on her he stopped again. She was leaning against an apple tree, half-turned away from him. She had broken off a small branch from one of the trees and now had the blossoms pressed up to her face. He caught a soft sound and realized she was humming to herself.
Stepping back a little, not wanting to break the moment, he watched her closely, almost struck immobile with the beauty of her. Her face was in half profile, highlighting the fineness of her features—the high cheekbones, the firm chin, the softness of her lips. She had combed out her hair full, and it fell in a full cascade over her shoulders and partly down her back, the ebony glossiness contrasting sharply with the pale yellow of her dress.
Suddenly, with the grace of a forest fawn, she tossed the blossoms aside, pushed away from the tree and began to sing.
In London city where I once did dwell,
There was a fair maid dwellin’.
Made every youth cry, “Well-a-day.”
Her name was Barbara Allen.
Her body began to sway back and forth, barely moving but somehow, in that restraint, conveying the mournful sorrow of unrequited love and young womanhood denied.
‘Twas in the merry month of May
The green buds were a swellin’.
She threw one hand out, taking in the richness of the spring’s bounty which surrounded her.
Sweet William on his deathbed lay,
For the sake of Barb’ra Allen.
Nathan felt a quick chill scurry up his back. It was a haunting melody brought to America generations earlier by English immigrants. Its sadness had always moved him, but now as her voice carried to him, clear and true as the soft chiming of a crystal bell, he found himself mesmerized.
Barbara Allen. As Lydia sang the verses, the story unfolded. Unmoved by William’s deathbed plea that only her kiss could save him, she tripped lightly down the stairs and out of the door. But when the death knell began to sound, the bells cried out in accusation, “Hard-hearted Barbara Allen.” Pierced with sorrow, the lass stopped the funeral bier and peered into the face of the dead man.
Lydia’s voice dropped in pitch, taking on a sudden huskiness, and the tempo slowed. The swaying stopped and she stood motionless, eyes closed, to finish the tale of Barbara Allen.
“Oh, Papa, Papa, go dig my grave,
And dig it deep and narrow.
Sweet Will has died of love for me,
I’ll die for him tomorrow.”
They buried him in the old churchyard;
They buried Miss Bar’bra beside him.
From his grave there grew a red red rose,
And from her grave a briar.
They grew to the top of the old church tow’r,
They could not grow no higher.
They hooked, they tied in a true love’s knot,
The rose around the briar.
Her voice died, the last notes seeming to hang forever in the still air. She did not stir, nor did Nathan. He felt a sudden stab of shame. He had intruded on her, without her permission or knowledge. And he knew she would be embarrassed to know he had done so. Ashamed, he began to back away. He would wait near the barn until she decided to come out of the orchard.
Perhaps his feet made a noise in the orchard grass, or maybe she caught his movement out of the corner of her eye. Whatever it was, she suddenly whirled. “Oh!” he heard her gasp. One hand flew to her mouth and she fell back a step.
Blushing furiously, Nathan stepped out into full view. “Miss Lydia?”
Her hand was still up and there was fright in her eyes.
He swept off his hat and rushed on. “I’m Nathan Steed, Joshua’s brother.”
Her hand came down slowly as recognition dawned. “Oh.”
“Your aunt said I could find you out here. I…” He stopped, unconsciously twisting the hat around and around in his hands. “I’m sorry for sneaking up on you. I was about to speak when you started to sing.”
Her cheeks colored and her eyes dropped.
“It was so lovely I couldn’t bear to stop you.”
She blushed even more deeply, but smiled quickly up at him. “Thank you.”
There was an awkward pause, then the smile broadened and she stuck out her hand. “Yes, Nathan, I remember you. Hello again.”
“Hello.” Nathan took her hand and quickly dropped it, startled a little by her openness. “I…I’m looking for Joshua…”
Seeming to sense his discomfort, and delighted by it, she stepped back, still appraising him with those wide brown eyes. He suddenly realized he was mangling his hat and forced his hands to stop. Then the smile faded and a shadow darkened her eyes. “Yes, Joshua told me what happened with your father. I’m sorry.”
Nathan’s mouth twisted in frustration. “He and Pa…well, they’re a lot alike.”
“Stubborn, you mean?”
He smiled. “Yes.”
She cocked her head to one side impishly, causing her hair to fall around her face. “I’ve noticed that about Joshua too.”
Nathan pulled his eyes away from her and looked down at his hands. The effect she was having on him was very dis-concerting, and he found himself wanting to stare at her. “Ma sent me with some bread and other things. She’s worried about him.”
Her head bobbed quickly up and down. “I told him he needed to go back home. Talk to your father.” She shook her head wearily. “He says he won’t go back.”
“I know. Do you know where I might find him? Is he staying in the village?”
Again there was a quick frown. “He’s staying with Will Murdock until he can find something in town.”
Nathan blew out air in a quick sound of discouragement. “That’s not going to help.”
“I know. I started to suggest that maybe Will Murdock was not the best company. He really snapped at me. Said who he picked as his friends was his affair and I was not to start acting like his pa.”
Nodding glumly, Nathan kicked at the grass with his foot, digesting what she had told him.
“You knew he got work down on the docks.”
Nathan’s head came up with a snap.
She nodded. “One of the warehouses. He told me he was going to help your family with the farming, but he’s got to make his own way first.”
Memories of the previous Sunday crossed Nathan’s mind. “Maybe it’s just as well.” He took a breath. “Do you know where the Murdocks live? I’d best try and find him.”
“They’re east of town, out on Geneva Road. But there’s no need to do that. Joshua said he would finish work at sundown, then come right out here.”
“Oh?”
She looked up at the sky. The sun was perhaps five or ten minutes from setting. “Why don’t you just wait. I’m sure he’s coming.”
“Well, if it wouldn’t be a bother.” He looked away quickly. “Once he comes, I won’t stay long.”
She laughed gently at his embarrassment. “It’s no bother. Come on, we’ll walk in the orchard.” She waved her hand at the trees. “Isn’t this wonderful?” She laughed again and started walking slowly away from him.
Nathan stood for a moment, marvelling at her. He wanted to make her laugh again. It was a sound of lilting joy, light as a breeze darting across a summer meadow. He jammed his hat on his head, poked at the back of his shirt to make sure it was in his pants, then fell into step beside her.
Joshua had come south out of Palmyra Village on the main road which ran on down to
Canandaigua. As he approached the Johnson farm, he left the road and cut across a field of alfalfa toward the big red barn behind the house. Lydia had told him she would be in the orchard, and while he found her aunt much less intimidating than her mother, he still squirmed a little under her scrutiny. So he simply bypassed the house.
As Joshua came around the house and started past the barn, he suddenly stopped. A mule was tied at the hitching post on the south side of the house. To city folks, all mules may look alike, but there’s no farmer that doesn’t know his stock by sight. He changed direction and walked to the animal, feeling a sudden rush of anger. He looked in the saddlebags, saw his jacket and the flour sack filled with things. Lips tightening into a hard line, he walked around to the front door and knocked firmly.
After a moment, Lydia’s aunt came to the door. “Oh, hello, Joshua.”
“Hello, Mrs. Johnson.” He glanced over her shoulder. “Is my father here?”
She looked surprised. “Your father? Why, no.”
That took him aback a little. “But…our mule is tied up alongside the house.”
Understanding dawned. “Oh, of course. No, that’s your brother.”
“My brother?”
“Yes, Nathan. He came about half an hour ago, looking for you. Lydia must have told him you were coming this evening, and he decided to wait for you. They’re probably out in the orchard.”
He let out his breath, the relief coming in a sudden rush. “Thank you.”
As he came around the back of the barn, Joshua stopped. Lydia and Nathan were just emerging from the orchard, walking slowly. Nathan was saying something to her. Lydia’s head was down, concentrating, hands clasped together behind her. Suddenly she threw her head back and laughed. Nathan smiled as he watched her.
Joshua felt a stab of—what? Envy? Jealousy? He pushed it away, surprised at the gladness he felt too. He raised his hand and waved. “Ho, Nathan!”
They both looked startled, then Nathan grinned and waved. He strode quickly toward Joshua, hand outstretched. “Joshua.” They grasped hands, then suddenly Joshua swept his younger brother up in a bear hug.
“Ma sent you some bread and pickles,” Nathan said when they pulled back and faced each other. “Melissa found your jacket and some other things you left. They’re in the saddle-bags.”
“Great.” He turned to Lydia, who had been watching them with a smile. “Hello, Lydia.”
“Hello, Joshua. I was hoping you would come.”
He could see she meant it, and he felt a little bit ashamed for what he had felt a moment before. “I told you I would.”
“I know. That’s what I told Nathan.”
Turning back to his brother, Joshua sobered. “How is Ma?”
“Fine. She’s been worried about you.”
He looked away. “I know. I planned to come out and help with the work, but I found a job in town.”
Nathan nodded. “Lydia told me.”
“It pays thirty-five cents a day.”
Joshua noted the look in Lydia’s eyes and felt a pang of disappointment. It was the same look he had seen when he first told her of his new job. He had expected as much, but it still hurt a little. To the villagers of Palmyra, the Erie Canal was a great boon which had brought economic prosperity and considerable growth to the region. But the dock area was a source of discomfort and embarrassment to them as well. Just a block away from their well-manicured homes and businesses, the lusty and bawdy nature of Canal Street stood in sharp contrast to the rest of the village. It was a necessary evil, but it was to be carefully avoided and its principals viewed with faint distaste.
“I know what you’re thinking.” He addressed Nathan, but he really spoke for Lydia’s sake. “But if I’m going to make my own way, I’ve got to earn my own keep. This is more than what I could make doing day labor, and it’s steady too.”
Nathan nodded, trying to push back some of the disappointment. “I suppose.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Joshua noted that Lydia seemed unconvinced too. Irritated, he changed the subject. “How’s the family?”
“They’re fine. Matthew wants you to see a racoon’s den he found down by the creek. Becca said to send her love. Melissa is especially worried about you. She said to tell you she’ll not point out all your faults if you decide to come back home.”
Joshua smiled, warmed by the simple report. He had not really expected he would miss them quite like he had. The smile slowly died away. “And Pa?”
Nathan took a deep breath. “He knows I’m here. He told me to bring the mule.”
A puzzled look crossed Lydia’s face at the reference to the mule, but Joshua understood exactly what it implied. It was his father’s way of telling Nathan it was all right to go. He took a quick breath. “I’m not going back, Nathan.”
“I know.” He looked away. “Ma knows too. But that doesn’t mean you can’t come see the family. Ma wants you to come for supper next Sunday.”
Joshua considered that, knowing the difficulty it would be to face his father again, and yet wanting to be back, to sit around the table after the dishes were cleared, listening to Matthew’s chatter, watching Becca’s face which always mirrored whatever she was thinking, feeling the soothing spirit of his mother. He finally shrugged. “Maybe I could.”
“Think about it. It would be good.”
“Tell Ma I feel bad about not being able to come out and help. But I’ll be sending out some of my wages. Pa can use it to hire enough help to make up for it.”
They had come around the barn and now came to where the mule was tied. As Nathan began to get the stuff out of the saddlebags, he stopped, his mouth turning down into a slight frown.
“What?” Joshua asked, noting his expression.
“Pa fired Joseph and Hyrum.”
It startled Joshua, but his reaction was quick. “Good for him.”
“Joshua!”
“Well, it is. People in town were starting to talk.”
For the first time Lydia spoke up. “Joshua’s right, Nathan. Even my father, who doesn’t believe in stepping into other people’s affairs, was real pleased to hear your father had ended his agreement with them.”
Nathan shot her a look, then turned back to Joshua. “Joseph and Hyrum were good workers, Joshua. As good as they come. It ain’t fair to fire them on account of wild stories being told around.”
“They’re not wild stories,” Lydia said earnestly. “The parents of a friend of mine heard it straight from Joseph’s father. ‘Bout him going into the woods and seeing the devil.”
“He never said he saw the devil,” Nathan retorted.
Joshua leaned forward, peering at his brother. “How do you know what he said? Did Joseph finally say something?”
Nathan was caught. It showed on his face.
“Well, did he?”
Nathan sighed. “Yes, he told me about his experience when he was trying to find out which church to join.”
Lydia stepped closer, suddenly eager. “Really, what did he say?”
Reluctantly, Nathan began. He related briefly what Joseph had said. It was obvious as he spoke he was feeling guilt, as though he were betraying a confidence.
Joshua threw back his head in a derisive laugh when he finished. “And you believe that?”
Nathan just stared at the ground.
Lydia reached out and touched his arm. “Do you, Nathan? Do you really believe such a fantastic story?”
He looked at her, then at Joshua, then back at her. “I don’t know,” he finally said lamely.
“Well, I know!” Joshua blurted. “That’s the kind of talk you hear down at the asylum, and I say Pa is wise to be rid of them.”
Nathan’s head shot up, his eyes angry. “If you’re so worried about people talking, why are you staying with the Murdocks?”
Joshua shot a quick look at Lydia, but she looked away. He felt a sudden anger at his feelings of defensiveness. “Till I earn some money, I can’t be affording no room
in town,” he snapped. “The Murdocks have a place in their barn. They’re not chargin’ me anything for it.”
“They’re no good, Joshua,” Nathan said flatly. “Joseph Smith’s ten times the man Will Murdock is.”
There it was again. Somebody always trying to tell him how to live and who to live with. He shouldered Nathan aside and took the things from the saddlebag. He stood there for a moment, then looked into the sack, smelled the wonderful aroma of the bread, fingered the crock of pickles, letting the anger die. He knew Nathan meant well and it was his frustration at his father’s stubbornness that triggered this reaction in him. When he turned back around his face had softened a little. He held up the sack. “Tell Ma thank you. And Melissa too.”
Nathan was anxious now to back away from the near confrontation too. “I will. What shall I tell her about Sunday?”
Joshua shook his head, thinking about the ugliness of the previous Sunday. “I don’t know…”
“You need to go, Joshua,” Lydia said, stepping to look up into his eyes. “It’s not right to cut yourself completely off from your family.”
He smiled suddenly. Like he said, everyone was trying to get into his life and run it for him. But he couldn’t be angry with Lydia. Not when she looked up at him like that. “All right,” he said, “I guess I could come.”
“Good.” Nathan untied the reins and swung up into the saddle. He looked down at Joshua. “You don’t have to wait until then, you know.”
Joshua grinned up at him. “I know. But I’m a working man now. I can’t just be goin’ places any time I feel like it.”
“I know.” Nathan reached out and gripped his hand. “Take care, Joshua.”
“I will, Nathan.” He hesitated for a moment, then softly added, “Tell Pa I’m sorry for what I said the other day.”
Nathan grinned. “I will.” He swung the mule around and dug his heels into its flanks, waving to both of them as the animal jumped into a trot and turned north onto Canandaigua Road.
It was almost full dark when Lydia waved good-bye to Joshua and went back into the house. As she shut the door, she stopped and leaned back against the door frame, smiling wistfully.
The Work and the Glory Page 14
