“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.”
“That is incredible,” Joseph said. “I always said your Benjamin was a good man, Sister Steed. This only goes to show how true it is.”
“But he doesn’t want to be baptized or anything though,” Matthew said soberly.
That caught them all by surprise. “How do you know that, Matthew?” Joseph said.
He shrugged matter-of-factly. “I asked him.”
“You did?” his mother said.
Nathan laughed aloud. “Good for you. What did you say?”
Embarrassed now, Matthew looked at the floor. “I asked him why he didn’t believe the things Joseph has told us.”
Joseph’s eyes softened and he reached out and put an arm around Matthew’s waist. “Only a child,” he murmured. “Would that more of us were like them.”
Nathan opened his arms. Matthew left Joseph and walked into them. Nathan motioned to Becca too, and in a moment both of them were in his grasp. “Do you believe the things Joseph has told us?” he asked them.
Both of them nodded in unison.
“And how do you know they are true?” Parley asked, smiling as proudly as if they were his own children.
“Because Becca and I prayed to Heavenly Father.” Matthew turned to his sister. “Didn’t we, Becca?”
Becca ducked her head, her cheeks coloring. “Yes.”
“And?” Nathan asked gently.
“We felt really good inside,” Matthew said firmly. “So we knew it must be true.”
Nathan turned to his mother and saw that her eyes were glistening a little. He turned back to Matthew. “And did you tell Pa about that?”
His head went up and down.
“And what did Pa say then?”
“He said it was good that I found out for myself.”
“He did?” Melissa blurted.
“Yep.”
Now it was Mary Ann who held out her arms, and Matthew went over to her. “I’m proud of you, son,” she whispered.
“And I’m proud of you too, Matthew,” Joseph said. “What a joy to see the faith of youth!”
Suddenly, Joseph started. He pulled a pocket watch from his vest and glanced at it, then stood. “I was in town when word of your arrival came,” he said. “Emma knows nothing of your being here. Let me run over and get her. We live in a cabin just behind the house. She’ll be so excited to see you again. She was taking a nap with the twins when I left.”
“You had twins?” Mary Ann cried. “Oh, Joseph, that’s wonderful. We’ve been so busy with our arrival, I didn’t even think to ask about Emma.”
A shadow crossed his face, and he looked away quickly. “Emma did have twins, but they only lived about three hours.”
“Oh, no, Joseph.”
“Yes.” He finally turned back. “It’s been a very difficult time for Emma.”
Melissa was puzzled. “But you said the twins were taking a nap.”
Joseph was still grave. “Out of another’s tragedy, we were blessed with a way to help lessen Emma’s grief.”
“Oh?” Mary Ann said.
Parley, seeming to sense Joseph’s pain, spoke for him. “By coincidence, Sister Julia Murdock, wife of John Murdock, gave birth to a set of twins on the day following the day Sister Emma gave birth to hers.” He sighed. “But in this case, it was the mother, Julia, who died, leaving her husband with five children to care for, two of them only five or six hours old.”
Joseph brightened a little. “With no way to care for them, Brother John offered the twins—a boy and a girl—to Emma in hopes that it might relieve her grief somewhat. And it has. They have been a wonderful blessing to us.”
“How marvelous,” Mary Ann said. “How old are they?”
“About three weeks now. They were born on the first of May. We named them Joseph
and Julia.” He moved to the door. “If they’re awake, we’ll bring them.” He turned to Parley, smiled, then looked to Mary Ann. “We still have one more surprise—this time for you, Sister Steed.”
Lydia and Nathan glanced quickly at each other, then Lydia said: “Oh yes, Mother Steed, a most wonderful surprise.”
“I’ll ask Brother Parley to tell you,” Joseph said. “It is he who brought the news. I’ll go get Emma.”
“Yes,” Nathan said eagerly, “tell them, Parley.”
Parley stepped forward as Joseph went out of the door. “As I’m sure Joseph has told you, Oliver and I and the other missionaries ended up in Independence, Missouri, laboring among both the Lamanites and the white settlers there.”
Mary Ann nodded. “Yes.”
“While we were there we had a visitor one night. He came to inquire of us if we were from New York. He was particularly interested in a family that lived in Palmyra Township.” He paused, then grinned. “The family he was inquiring after was the family of Benjamin Steed.”
For several moments Mary Ann looked puzzled. “Our family?” she started, then suddenly her eyes widened and one hand flew to her mouth.
Parley nodded slowly. “Yes.”
“Joshua?” Melissa cried. “You found Joshua?”
“Yes, Melissa,” Nathan said, “they found Joshua.”
It was just past four o’clock in the afternoon of the day following the arrival of the Steed family. Outside the Morley home, Nathan stood with Joseph and several other of the brethren. No one spoke much, but Nathan kept looking at the house, his eyes anxious.
Inside, Lydia was barely aware of the shrill cry that came from her throat as she bore down. Beads of sweat stood out on her forehead, and her knuckles were white where she gripped the bedposts.
“Don’t stop!” Mary Ann cried. “Don’t stop! It’s almost there.”
Feeling as if she were pushing everything inside her out with the baby, Lydia came up on her elbows, gasped, and bore down again. Suddenly there was a tremendous sense of relief, and in an instant the pressure was gone. There was a plaintive cry from a tiny throat.
“That’s it!” Lucy Morley said in satisfaction. “You’ve got yourself a baby!”
Lydia fell back on the bed, panting heavily. For a moment she kept her eyes closed, listening to the howl of protest at being brought so rudely into the world. Then suddenly a stab of fear jolted her. Her eyes flew open. Sister Morley had her back to Lydia, holding out the baby while Mother Smith tied off the cord. Lydia’s eyes sought those of Mary Ann’s. “Is it...is it all right?”
Mary Ann moved to her side, picked up a damp towel, and began to sponge her forehead. She was smiling warmly. “Is he all right, you mean?”
“A boy?” Lydia would have shouted it had her voice not been so hoarse.
Mary Ann nodded, tears suddenly filling her eyes. “Yes, a fine, healthy boy.”
Sister Morley turned. The tiny head was dark, still bloody in spots, but covered with a sheen of wet black hair. “I’d say about eight pounds and sound as a twenty-dollar gold piece.” She quickly wrapped a small blanket around the infant, then handed the tiny bundle over to Lydia. “Congratulations, Mother.”
Nathan let his finger gently stroke the hair, marveling at its incredible softness. He watched the tiny eyelids flutter momentarily and wondered if infants dreamed, and if so, how. Was it just visual images? Or perhaps thoughts without words.
The door opened and his mother stepped out of the bedroom. She looked at him and smiled. “Lydia’s asleep finally,” she whispered.
“Good. She looked exhausted.”
Mary Ann came to where he sat in the rocking chair. “All right, Papa, now its Grandma’s turn.” She had helped Lydia get settled while Lucy Morley had washed the baby, and so she had not held him yet.
Nathan stood, careful not to jostle the baby. When his mother was settled he passed the tiny bundle into her arms.
“Oh,” Mary Ann breathed, “he is so tiny.” She looked up and tears filled her eyes. “I’m so glad we were here, Nathan. My first grandchild.”
Nathan knelt beside the chair, laying his hand on her arm. “So are we, Ma. Lydia was frightened.” His mouth pulled momentarily. And her own mother wouldn’t come, he thought.
Mary Ann pulled the blanket up and tucked it under the baby’s chin and cuddled him even closer. “And how does it feel to be a papa by now?”
He shook his head. “It hardly seems real. Like it’s just someone else’s baby.” He looked down at his son. “And yet...”
When he didn’t finish she looked up.
He shrugged, a little embarrassed by his own feelings. “Since we learned that Lydia was with child, and especially during the past few weeks, I kept thinking about having our own child. But just in the last hour, holding him here, I’ve—” He suddenly had to stop, for his throat had a great lump in it. He tried to swallow it down. “I’ve had feelings like I never dreamed I could...” He looked away quickly. “He’s my son,” he finally managed. “This is my son.”
Mary Ann reached out and touched his cheek. “Yes,” she said, her own voice barely audible. “The first of the next generation of Steeds.”
Chapter Thirteen
The Rogers and Sons livery stable on the southern outskirts of Kirtland was a well-kept company. They had a large barn with room for almost a dozen and a half horses. There were two carriage sheds, a tack shed, and a small blacksmith shop. Corrals out back were large enough to house another dozen head. The man who had recommended the place to Benjamin Steed when he drove into town late in the afternoon of May twenty-ninth had said that Hezekiah Rogers was a shrewd but honest businessman who ran a neat and well-organized operation. Now that he saw it, Benjamin Steed was impressed. It always pleased him to see someone care for his things, be it land, buildings, or other property.
“That’s a fine-looking team, Mr. Steed.”
“Thank you. I especially appreciate them. I sold two mules and another horse to get them.”
Hezekiah Rogers laughed. “Well, they’re sure better looking than a team of mules. And how long would you think you’ll be boarding them with us?”
He considered that for a moment. When he arrived in Kirtland, first off he had inquired in town and found out about a small place for rent. He and his family would be able to stay there until Benjamin could find a place of their own. After unloading their belongings, he had gone over to the livery stable. “I’m not sure,” he finally said to Hezekiah Rogers. “I’ve just arrived in town this afternoon. I’ll start looking for a place of my own tomorrow.”
“No problem. It’ll be a dollar per week for the team. No extra charge for the wagon.”
“Fair enough. By the way, do you know how far the Isaac Morley farm is? My family is staying there. I met Mr. Morley in town, and he said he’d go fetch them and meet me here.”
“It’s only about two miles out on the Painesville Road.”
“Well, they shouldn’t be long, then.”
Rogers made an entry in a large ledger book, then turned and stepped to the door of the small office. He opened it and stuck his head out. “Carl!”
In a moment a young man in his early twenties came trotting up. He was sunburned and freckle-faced, and had a head of red hair that would have set him off in any crowd. “Yes, Pa?”
“Take Mr. Steed’s team and wagon out back. Unhitch the team and give them a good rubdown, then half a bucket of oats for each one.”
“Yes, Pa.”
Benjamin watched him go. “Fine-looking boy.”
“Thank you.”
Just at that moment, there was a loud squeal from outside the office. “Papa! Papa!”
Ben smiled. “I think this is my family now.”
The door to the livery office burst open and Becca came running in, pigtails flying. He opened his arms and she flew into them, throwing her arms around his neck.
“Hello, pumpkin.” He swung her up and around, which took some do
ing, for at thirteen now, she was quickly growing into a young woman.
Matthew came hard on her heels and just as excitedly threw himself at his father. Ben hugged them both, then turned to the owner of the stable. “Thanks again, Mr. Rogers. I’ll be back in touch.”
“No hurry. Thanks for using our stables.”
“Glad I did.” He looked down. “All right, you two, do you have anyone else with you?”
With a whoop they took his hands and dragged him outside to see the rest of the family.
Carl Rogers had just started to curry the horses when he heard the commotion out front. Curious, he moved over to the barn door, which was partly open, and looked out. This was obviously a family reunion for the Steeds. The man whose horses he was now caring for was surrounded by a very happy group of people. He had an arm around a woman who was obviously his wife. A young couple with a baby in arms were standing next to them. Two children, a boy and a girl, were prancing around like two lambs frolicking in a meadow. An older man, whom Carl recognized as Isaac Morley, sat in the wagon seat smiling down at them. Another woman stood in front of Mr. Steed, but he couldn’t tell much about her since her back was to him—only that she was fairly tall and as slender as a willow switch. Her waist was small enough that Carl guessed he could nearly touch fingertips if he put both hands around it.
He started to turn and go back to work just as the slender woman slipped her arm around Mr. Steed’s waist. That brought her around full face toward Carl. He stopped. She was young—about twenty, he guessed—and obviously another daughter. She had the dark hair and the straight features of her father. She was laughing up at him, and that was what had made Carl stop. Her eyes were dark, but even at thirty feet away he could see them flashing. Her whole face was alive with a radiance of joy that was arresting.
“Papa,” Carl heard her say happily, “isn’t this wonderful? Here we all are, in Kirtland. Thank you, Papa, thank you.”
Her father laughed ruefully. “Oh, Melissa, Melissa. As if I could have kept you away.”
Carl pulled the door shut again, feeling like an intruder, and went back to the horses. But as he began to pull the curry comb through the mane of the one horse, he kept one ear tuned toward the door. He could hear the faint murmur of voices but couldn’t distinguish what was being said. Then he distinctly heard her laugh again. Feeling a little foolish, he set the comb down, gave the horse a pat, and moved to the door again. He pushed it open slightly, his eyes going immediately to Melissa’s face.
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