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 ap
proaching 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.”
“You all know what Joshua wants,” Caroline said softly now. “He knows it’s coming too. As soon as he returns, he wants a family meeting to try and persuade us all to move to St. Louis.”
“That’s why I wanted to talk about it now,” Nathan answered gravely. “In a way, I’m glad that he had to take Alice back. It will give us time to think about how we’re going to deal with this.”
“But how can we not go?” Matthew exclaimed.
“That’s just it,” Caroline responded. “What Joshua still doesn’t understand is that this isn’t just following after Brigham Young, or Heber C. Kimball. This is answering the call of the Lord. And unfortunately, the Lord isn’t asking us to go to St. Louis.” Now the tears spilled over and started down her cheeks. “Do you think Will and Alice will hesitate to go?”
Matthew shook his head. “Not one minute.”
She bit her lip. “I know.”
“What can we do, Papa?” Nathan turned to his daughter. To his surprise, Emily was crying now too. “We can’t leave Aunt Caroline. Or Aunt Melissa. We can’t just leave them.”
Lydia was watching Caroline closely. “What will you do?” she asked, feeling her sister-in-law’s pain.
Caroline’s head dropped and she looked at the ground. “I don’t know. He’ll never go west. And then what’s my choice? Follow the Lord or stay with my husband?”
Nathan put an arm around his daughter and pulled her against his shoulder. “I’d like to try and answer Emily’s question.” He blew out his breath, wanting so much to be able to say this right. “In the scriptures, we are often taught that there are times when our prayers need to be combined with fasting, that there are certain problems of such difficulty, such magnitude, that a special effort is needed to get an answer.”
“Like getting Lydia McBride to join the Church,” Lydia half whispered. “If it hadn’t been for Nathan’s fasting, I wouldn’t be here.”
“That’s how Mama finally got Papa to sell the farm and go to Ohio,” Rebecca spoke up. “Remember?”
“Yes,” Nathan exclaimed, “that’s exactly what I’m talking about. I think that what we have here is a problem of great magnitude. We know the Lord won’t force anyone to be what they don’t want to be. But we also know that he can soften hearts, change feelings. Isn’t the greatest miracle of all the changing of the human heart? Isn’t that worth whatever effort it takes on our part to see if that will happen?”
“A family fast for Joshua?” Matthew asked.
“No, a family fast for our family,” Nathan corrected him. “I am proposing that we start a fast tonight for Alice and Will. And then I am suggesting that after that, once a week, we have a fast for our family, that we fast and pray that we can stay together, that somehow the Lord will help us work out this impossible situation.” He paused, his voice filled with emotion. “That’s what I am suggesting.”
Walter Samuelson slammed his fist against the tabletop, accidentally hitting the corner of his ashtray. Cigar butts and ashes went flying across the glass top. He swore bitterly, then looked at Will. “No! Absolutely not. I will not give my permission for you to marry Alice, and I will not allow her to become a Mormon. That is final. Discussion over, Will!”
“But, Mr. Samuelson, I—”
“I said no!” he roared. “Do you hear me, Will? No!”
Will was calm. He did not flinch under the barrage of words nor the heat of Samuelson’s anger. “Sir, begging your pardon, but Alice is eighteen years of age. She will be nineteen in December. She was hoping for your blessing. She does not need your permission.”
“Will!” Joshua cut in sharply as Samuelson turned a bright red and looked as if he would choke. “That’s enough.”
With that same calm equanimity, Will looked at Joshua. “I’m sorry, Father, but I’m not going to pretend that Walter’s opposition is going to change things when it’s not. Alice and I plan to marry. If we cannot get his permission, we shall do without his blessing as well.”
And with that, he turned around and walked out of the office, ignoring the spluttering sounds coming from behind him.
Samuelson swore again. Joshua shook his head. So much for all of his carefully rehearsed dialogues on the way down here. “Walter,” he began.
His partner didn’t look up, just waved him off.
“Walter, look, we need to talk about this.”
His head shot up. “No, Joshua, we don’t need to talk. You and Will need to talk. I’ve said my last word on this. If you want to do some good, you go talk to your son.”
He caught up with Will just outside the main door of the warehouse. To Joshua’s surprise, Will had not turned up the street toward Alice’s house, but down the street, toward the river. Joshua ran quickly to catch up, and then fell in step beside him. Will glanced at him but said nothing.
They walked along in silence for better than five minutes, down to the great river with its long wharves, its chugging riverboats, and warehouse after warehouse filled with huge stacks of cotton, bales of wool, mountains of lumber, sweet-smelling spices from the Orient, and a hundred other samplings of the commerce of the world. Finally, at one of the piers Will slowed his step. There was no riverboat docked there at present, so he stepped over the chain that kept the wagons and carriages out and walked out to the end of the dock. He sat down, his legs dangling over the edge, staring down at the swirling waters below them. Joshua sat down beside him and leaned back on his hands.
For almost another full minute they didn’t speak; then Joshua cleared his throat. Will turned his head and looked at him fully, as if this was no more than what he had expected.
“Will you listen to me for a minute or two without getting angry?” Joshua asked.
Will shrugged easily. “I’m not at all angry, Pa. Not at you. Not at Alice’s father.”
“Will, taking that kind of stance isn’t going to help.”
“What kind of stance is that, Pa?”
“Saying that you and Alice are going to do what you want to do no matter what Walter says. It will only make him
dig in his heels all the deeper.”
“And what do you think I should say to him?”
“I—” He stopped for a minute. “I don’t know. But being so confrontational isn’t helping your cause at all.”
“I didn’t think I was pleading my cause, Pa.”
“Well, it’s certainly not going to help Alice.”
“I wasn’t pleading Alice’s cause either.”
“Then just what were you doing? Being stubborn?” And then to take the bite out of his words, he smiled. “Like your father?”
“I was trying to help Walter see what his best alternative is.”
Joshua couldn’t help but laugh. “You what?”
“That’s right. There are only two alternatives here. He can give his permission, even if he doesn’t approve, and make the best of the situation. If that’s the case, Alice will be baptized, we’ll be married. Oh, there will be a little strain, but at least the family will stay together.” Will shrugged again, still quite untroubled. “Or he can utterly refuse, fight us at every step. Alice will still be baptized, we will still be married, and the family will be torn apart. So isn’t the first the better alternative?”
Joshua just stared at him, remembering Will’s unbendable determination to be baptized and the conflict it had generated between them.
“I know what he’s thinking,” Will went on. “He’s thinking that if he is angry enough and threatens to throw her out, it will change her mind. But it won’t, Pa. I am telling you, she knows what she wants to do, and even if it comes to the other, she is not going to change her mind. So, the sooner Walter comes to accept that, the better choice he will be able to make.”
“And you think it’s that simple?” Joshua asked in amazement, not hiding his irritation.
Will half turned, looking behind them to where a small slab of board was nailed above the entrance to the wharf. He nodded toward it. “Do you know why I came here, Pa?”
The Work and the Glory Page 373
