The Work and the Glory

by Gerald N. Lund

Joshua looked from one face to another. One by one they each nodded. When he looked at his mother, she was near tears. “Oh, Joshua, I know you are doing this for me, and I love you for it. But Nathan is right. It was a mistake to leave Caroline and the children alone.”

  His lips tightened into a hard line. “Then maybe I will go back.”

  “We don’t want you to go back,” Lydia cried. “Don’t you understand? We want you here with us. But we want Caroline and Savannah and Charles and little Livvy. They belong here too, Joshua. That’s what we’re saying.”

  He stood now, his hands balled tightly. “You don’t think I worry about them? You don’t think I want to be with them?”

  “Of course we do. So let’s go get them,” Nathan said. “Let’s just go get them and bring them back with us.”

  He whirled, throwing up his hands. “With what, Nathan? You and your grand ideas. Did you ask yourself that question? With what? Just how am I supposed to bring them back here? I don’t have a wagon. I don’t have any supplies.” He waved an arm angrily toward where the stock were grazing. “You don’t even have what you need for teams. What am I supposed to do? Tie my family on the back of a mule and come on, all full of faith and singing hymns?”

  Nathan jerked a little at the reference to faith, then a smile stole slowly across his face. “You sing the hymns, and leave the faith to me.”

  Joshua muttered something under his breath and started to stalk away. “I don’t need your little jokes, Nathan.”

  “I wasn’t joking,” Nathan said evenly.

  Joshua stopped and after a moment turned back around. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Are you saying that’s the only reason you won’t bring your family out here? that if you had a wagon and oxen and sufficient supplies you’d do it?”

  “Well . . .” Joshua was obviously thrown on the defensive with that question.

  “Well, nothing. Is that what you’re saying or not?”

  “That’s a concern, of course. Yes, it’s the major concern, but—”

  Nathan cut him off, knowing he had him now. “Tell you what,” he said, feeling his heart suddenly racing at what he was about to propose. “We’ll go back—you and me and Derek. We’ll take the mules and the horses and see what we can do in trade. If the Lord wants Caroline and your children out here, then he’s just going to have to help us. But if he does . . .”

  Joshua was shaking his head. Matthew jumped in eagerly. “Last night you said you didn’t think we had any hope of trading our mules and Derek’s team for any oxen.”

  “I don’t.”

  “What if you’re wrong?”

  Joshua’s shoulders lifted and fell. He was clearly uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had suddenly taken.

  “If you’re wrong,” Matthew bore in, “will you promise to bring Caroline out and join us?”

  Before Joshua could answer that, Nathan moved toward his elder brother. He stopped directly in front of him. “No. No promises, Joshua. You don’t have to agree to do anything but come along and see what the Lord does for us. If you do that, I’ll not say another word, no matter what you decide. All right?”

  “Even if I want to come back here without my family?”

  “No conditions. I’ll not say anything more.”

  “Now, that would be a refreshing change,” he growled.

  “Does that mean you’ll go?” Nathan asked, holding his breath for a moment.

  Joshua’s head lowered for a moment, then he nodded. “All right. We’ll go and see what happens.”

  Mary Ann stood now and moved to her two sons as well. She said nothing, just took both their hands and squeezed them tightly.

  Finally Joshua put his arm around his mother, turning away from Nathan. “Mother, did I ever tell you that this boy you raised can be the most irritating, the most exasperating, the most frustrating, knot-headed, mule-stubborn man in all of North America?”

  Mary Ann smiled sweetly up at him. “Are you talking about you or Nathan?” Then, before he could answer, she took his hand. “Come on. I’ll help you get ready and you can tell me all about it.”

  The man walked slowly around the two mules, eyeing them up and down carefully, reaching out from time to time to run his hand over their shoulders or down their withers. He stepped back about five feet and looked at them again, chewing thoughtfully on the wad of tobacco he had stuffed in one cheek. He turned and spat a brown stream into the mud of his front yard. “I judge they’d be all right,” he said to Nathan.

  There was a rush of relief. Finally! “Good. Then it’s a trade?” Nathan turned toward the corral where four oxen stood munching on a pile of meadow hay, and he felt a little burst of exultation. Now Joshua would have no choice but to see that the Lord was in this. This was only their second stop.

  “Yep! My two yoke of oxen for your two mules and your two Belgians.”

  “What?” Derek yelped. “We’re talking only the mules for the oxen. That’s—”

  Joshua laid a hand on Derek’s arm. “Mr. Jackson, one good mule, which these are, sells for more than a yoke of oxen. With two mules for your four oxen, I figure you’re coming out about seventy-five dollars to the good.”

  The man spat again, this time not bothering to turn his head. “Well,” he drawled, “me and the missus, we’re maybe thinking of going west next season. Hear that land out in California is free for the taking and so rich you can plow it with your bare foot.” His eyes narrowed. “Not like this cursed prairie sod. So I wasn’t really fixin’ to sell my oxen. I’d have to get a real good trade to change my mind.”

  “But the Belgians alone are worth four hundred dollars,” Nathan protested. “I could buy eight span of oxen for that.”

  “Not out here, you can’t.” And he spat again.

  As they rode away from their sixth homestead three hours later, Nathan kept his eyes down. He didn’t want to meet Joshua’s arched eyebrows or his I-told-you-so look. They had finally traded off Jenny’s oak chest to the wife of the man with a cheek full of tobacco and came away with three sacks of wheat and some cornmeal. Beyond that, there had been nothing. This last one had been a Missourian from Jackson County, come north to Iowa Territory to get his own spread. Though he had a fine pair of oxen, he asked only one question. “You all Mormons?” When they nodded, his face twisted with hate. “Then git off my land.”

  I wasn’t talking about Joshua’s faith, or lack of it, Nathan. I was talking about yours. Brigham’s words ran through Nathan’s mind like a litany. Diligence. Humility. The prayer of faith. He shook his head, smiling sardonically. Well, the humility was no problem, anyway. Right now he was feeling about as humble as he could remember ever feeling.

  “What?”

  That brought his head up and he saw Joshua watching him. Joshua was riding the saddle horse alongside. Nathan was driving the wagon, pulled by the two mules and the two draft horses. Derek had chosen to walk for now. It had rained lightly during the night and the overcast had kept the temperature above freezing, so the roads were a muddy mess and sitting on the wagon seat was a punishing experience. But with a lightly loaded wagon and four animals, the roads were not proving to be a problem. “What do you mean, what?”

  “What are you grinning about to yourself?”

  Nathan had not realized his face was reflecting his thoughts. He considered several possible answers, then finally shrugged. “You’re going to make me eat my words, aren’t you?”

  There was a soft hoot as Joshua considered that. “Could be some real pleasure in that, I’ll grant you. But if you think I’m hoping we won’t be successful so I can say I told you so, you’re wrong.”

  “I know,” Nathan said quickly, knowing that Joshua meant it, and appreciating it.

  “We’ve still got ten or fifteen miles before we hit the Mississippi. There’ll be more homesteads.”

  Nathan murmured something in assent and fell back into his own thoughts again. Humility, diligence, and faith. Too b
ad that two out of three wouldn’t do it.

  Chapter Notes

  The letter from Orson Pratt to the Eastern Saints was written on 8 November 1845 (see Joseph Smith, History of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, ed. B. H. Roberts, 2d ed., rev., 7 vols. [Salt Lake City: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 1932–51], 7:516–17). The scripture cited by Brigham here is found today in Doctrine and Covenants 104:78–82.

  Chapter 6

  Caroline set the ledger book on the counter and laid the pen down beside it. She looked around, trying to ward off the discouragement.

  “Are we done, Mama?”

  She laughed softly, and it was touched with bitter irony. “Yes, we are, Savannah. Balancing the books doesn’t take nearly as long as it once did.”

  Livvy looked up from where she was playing with a box full of spools, arranging them first in one pattern and then another on the small table. She would be two years old in three more months and was very much aware of things going on around her. She had Joshua’s large dark eyes, so brown that they were almost black. And though still quite light, just in the past few months her hair had started to darken, and Caroline suspected she would turn out to be a full brunette, also like her father.

  “Mama sad?” Livvy said, watching Caroline gravely.

  She laughed. How perceptive this one was. “No, Livvy, Mama’s not sad. Just tired.”

  Charles, now a very grown-up six-year-old, raised his head. He was stretched out on the rug, poring over a catalog from an Eastern manufacturer. “Are we done, Mama?”

  “Almost, son. Savannah and I will finish up in a minute and then we’ll go home.”

  “Mama sad,” Livvy said to her brother in a matter-of-fact voice.

  Caroline shook her head, feeling a sudden stab of pain. Little Livvy, as they called her, had been born on the same day that her older sister and namesake had been killed. They hadn’t called her Olivia, just Livvy, Olivia’s nickname. How different she was going to be! Olivia, born to Caroline and her first husband back in Savannah, Georgia, had been fair skinned and had had her mother’s dark auburn hair and striking green eyes. Livvy was going to be all Joshua—the dark, dark eyes, the black hair, the finely cut features. She was going to be a beauty, this one. Olivia had been quiet and more pensive, thoughtful, and gentle. Livvy was already showing more of Savannah’s temperament—strong willed, impetuous, full of fun and daring.

  Caroline sighed. She would be forty in six months. Livvy was likely her last child. No, she corrected herself, surely her last child, what with Joshua being gone now for the next year. And that being the case, how grateful she was for this little imp! She was the joy of Caroline’s life, and she knew Livvy was God’s way of compensating her for her other loss. And while naming her Livvy had sometimes caused Caroline pain, as it had a moment before, she was still glad she had insisted on doing it. The older Livvy now had a living namesake who would carry on life for her and do so at the fullest.

  “Can I add the figures, Mama?” Savannah asked.

  Caroline tried not to look too pleased. Savannah would be nine in two more weeks. In school, mathematics had proven to be her favorite subject. She loved going through and totaling up all the sales figures. Caroline hated that part most of all. “Yes, Savannah. Total them up, and then we’ll go.”

  Charles sprang to his feet as the noise of an approaching wagon was heard. He went to the store window and pulled back the curtain. It was just nearing dusk now and most of the traffic on the streets of Nauvoo had ceased. “It’s coming this way,” Charles sang out.

  That was enough for Livvy. She dragged a three-legged stool over beside her brother and climbed up beside him, pressing her nose against the windowpane.

  “Who is it, Charles? Anyone we know?” Savannah asked as she picked up the ledger book and opened it.

  “I don’t know. It’s too dark.”

  Caroline moved across the main room of the Steed Family Dry Goods and General Store and down the hall past the storage rooms. She was checking to make sure the back door was securely locked when she heard Charles scream. Then Livvy’s voice joined in.

  She whirled and raced back the way she had come, but as she did so it registered that this was not a scream of pain but of joy. As she came back into the main room of the store, she saw Charles tearing at the front door. “It’s Papa! It’s Papa!” he was shouting. Livvy was off her stool and right behind him, hopping up and down and waving her arms. “Papa! Papa! Papa!”

  Caroline was stunned.

  The door was open now and Charles shot through it, Livvy hard on his heels. Savannah dropped her book and darted across the room and out the door behind her brother and sister. Caroline couldn’t believe they were right, but she moved forward swiftly, feeling a sudden rush of excitement. Could it really be?

  As she reached the door, she saw three men by the wagon. But the figure that drew her eye was the one being swarmed by her children. “Joshua?” she gasped.

  Nathan looked up at her and grinned. “Hello, Caroline.”

  “I can’t believe this,” Caroline said to Derek. “I just can’t believe it.”

  Joshua sat on one of the chairs by the stove in the corner of the store. Livvy was tucked in under one arm, Charles sat on one leg, and Savannah stood behind her father, her arm across his shoulder. Nathan, Derek, and Caroline stood close together, smiling as they watched the joy of the reunion.

  “We thought we might surprise you,” Derek said, chuckling. “We went to the house first, but when we didn’t find anyone home, Joshua suggested we try here.”

  “But where is the rest of the family?”

  Nathan explained quickly about the broken wagon and the decision to try and trade their stock.

  “How is Mother Steed doing, Nathan? And Lydia? How’s Lydia?”

  “Mother is fine,” Nathan answered. “Still grieving, of course, but very strong.”

  “And Lydia?”

  “Well, she is doing remarkably well. She tires easily, but she’s holding up.”

  “Oh, Nathan, I wish I could see them. Will you give everyone a big hug for me when you get back? I miss them so.”

  Joshua looked up from whispering something in Livvy’s ear. “How would you like to do that yourself, Caroline?”

  Her head came up slowly. A hint of a smile was playing around the corners of his mouth, and there was some inner amusement dancing in his eyes. Nathan and Derek had spun around, as dumbfounded as she was.

  “Do you mean that?” she started, very tentatively. “Don’t joke with me, Joshua. Not about this.”

  Instead of answering, he looked up at Savannah. “You still praying every day that you can go west?”

  “Oh, yes, Papa.”

  He turned back to Caroline and shrugged helplessly. “Now, how can a man fight against that?”

  Caroline took three quick steps and dropped to her knees in front of him. “Do you mean it, Joshua? Do you really mean it?”

  Joshua nudged Livvy. “Tell Mama our secret, Livvy.”

  She looked at him, the dark eyes questioning. He nodded his approval and she turned to her mother. “Go see Gramma, Mama.”

  Savannah whirled away, dancing up and down with raised arms. “I knew it! I knew it!” she cried.

  Caroline went utterly still. Nathan’s mouth was open and he simply stared. Derek was just starting a huge grin. Joshua set Livvy down and gently pushed Charles to a standing position. Then he stood and came to his wife. He took her into his arms. “Do you want to go, Caroline?”

  Her eyes showed her answer. They suddenly filled with tears, and all she could do was nod mutely.

  He turned to Nathan. “Maybe you’d better sit down, little brother. You look a little faint.”

  “But . . .” Nathan stammered. “I thought . . . When? When did you decide this?”

  Derek had to know absolutely if he was reading his brother-in-law correctly. “Are you saying that you’re taking your family west?” he asked blunt
ly.

  Turning back to Caroline, Joshua reached up and touched her cheek. “I’m saying I want our family together. And since the rest of our family seems intent on going west, I guess that’s what we’ll be doing too.”

  “Oh, Joshua!” Caroline threw her arms around him. “I can’t believe it!” She kissed him hard. “Thank you.”

  Charles too now was dancing a little jig on the rug, waving his arms in the air. “We’re going west! We’re going west!” Savannah hurled herself across the space between her and her parents and threw her arms around her father’s back. “Oh, thank you, Papa! Thank you!”

  He reached out with one arm and pulled her in to him and Caroline. His voice suddenly went husky. “I wish your grandfather were here so I could tell him too.”

  Nathan was still dazed. “When, Joshua?” he asked again. “When did you decide to go?”

  “When that Missourian told us to get off his land.” His eyes darkened with sudden anger as he looked at Caroline. “When I saw his eyes, I suddenly understood. I don’t know what’s going to happen here, but as long as there are men out there with that kind of hate—blind, irrational, without mercy—I don’t want my family here.”

  Caroline moved in closer against him. “Say it again. My ears hear you, but my heart is still having a hard time catching up.”

  “We’re going, Caroline.” He looked suddenly bleak. “Don’t ask me how. We’ve no wagon, no team, no supplies.” There was a bitter, derisive hoot. “No money.”

  “I’ve been trying to gather some things,” Caroline said. “I was hoping I could send it with someone out to the family. Some wheat and rice. A barrel of salted pork. About a hundred pounds of corn.”

  “And I’ve been trading stuff too, Papa,” Savannah exclaimed. “I knew Heavenly Father would help us. I knew it.”

  “That’s wonderful,” he said, and he meant it. That Caroline had found that much was amazing. That his daughter was gathering supplies too was especially touching. But it was a pittance compared to what they would need. And there was still the matter of a wagon and oxen. “Maybe Nathan can come up with one of his miracles for the rest of it.”