The Undaunted

by Gerald N. Lund

  “You didn’t.”

  “I did. Didn’t know the address, so I just put it to Mr. Draper, care of Coalville Post Office. I was pretty sure he would never hear it from you.”

  He walked for a moment in silence, then reached up and patted Tillie’s neck. “This one is the hero. Or heroine, I guess you’d say. Weren’t for her . . .” He let it go.

  “Did you think you were going to die?” she asked gravely.

  He nearly brushed that aside, then decided to be honest. “I wondered there for a bit, but rough as the leader was, I don’t think he planned anything violent, long as I cooperated.”

  “Did you pray, David?”

  “Pray?” he snorted. “Things were happening a little too fast for that.”

  “Not even a thought about asking God to help you?”

  He tried not to show his irritation. “Molly, look. He had a rifle pointed at my chest and another man had a pistol at my back. I wasn’t thinking about God at that moment.”

  “Hmm,” she murmured, speaking half to herself. “At a time like that, God is the first thing I would have thought of.” She looked up at him. “I was praying for you,” she said softly.

  “What?”

  “I’ve been praying every day since you left. I asked God to protect you from danger.”

  “Thank you,” he said, touched, even as he felt his temper rise a little. He opened his mouth to say more, then clamped it shut again. He was tired and irritable and it was better to let it go. “So,” he asked, “anything new happening on the call to San Juan?”

  “They officially announced that Silas Smith will be the captain of the company.”

  “That’s good, right? If I remember, your father said he’s a good man.”

  “Yes, Daddy’s very pleased. Which reminds me, Daddy would like to meet with you in the morning at nine o’clock.”

  “I guess he hasn’t changed his mind about going?”

  There was a soft explosion of frustration. “We’re going. That’s settled.”

  No real surprise there. He said nothing.

  She stepped closer and pressed her shoulder against his. “I am so happy you’re back, David. I’ve missed you. A lot.”

  “And I missed you.” She looked up, clearly anticipating more. “A lot,” he added solemnly.

  Her smile turned impish. “Oh, I should tell you about the parade.”

  “Parade? What parade?”

  “The one on Saturday they’re giving in your honor.”

  He stopped dead. She pretended not to notice and walked on slowly. “You’ll be the grand marshal, of course. They’ve asked the governor of the territory if he can attend, and . . .”

  He quickly caught up with her and grabbed her elbow. “You’d better be kidding, Molly McKenna, or I’m going to show you exactly what I did to that guy up there on the mountain.”

  She raised the back of her hand to her forehead. “Oh, dear me. I do believe I’m going to faint.”

  Molly watched as David unsaddled Tillie, filled her manger with hay, and gave her a bucket of oats. Finished, he took Molly’s arm. “You’d better get home. Your parents will wonder what’s happened to you.”

  “Mother knew what I was doing.”

  He gave her a sharp look, but decided to let it pass. “I’ll walk you home.”

  “No you won’t,” she said firmly. “I will walk you to the boardinghouse and tell Mrs. Halliday to put you to bed.”

  “I won’t fight you on that one.”

  As they left the barn and started up the street, she became pensive. He hoped she wouldn’t start on what he guessed was going through her mind, but she did anyway.

  “Have you thought any more about asking my father if you can court me?”

  “Only all the time,” he muttered.

  “And?”

  “Aw, Molly. I don’t know what to think anymore.”

  Her step faltered momentarily, and her chin dropped. “Oh.”

  “It’s not what you think, Molly.” He stopped and faced her. “I thought about you every waking moment. I close my eyes and all I see are those wonderful eyes of yours.”

  “Mmmm,” she murmured. “That’s better.”

  But instantly the frustration was back. “I went to Tropic, Molly.”

  She looked blank. So he told her about his search for land in Panguitch, and then about making the side trip over the mountain to Tropic and Henrieville.

  “And?” she asked again.

  “There’s plenty of land. Good land. But . . .” He took her arm and started walking again, feeling the hopelessness rising again.

  “What, David?”

  “Molly, I met a lot of the families there. Good people. But I also found women living in caves dug into the hillsides. I ate supper in a house with a sod roof. When it rains, bugs and mud and an occasional mouse drop out of the ceiling onto the table. I met women who haven’t seen their families for over a year.”

  It was like his words had frozen her.

  His voice softened. “I talked to a man who takes his cattle up in the mountains all summer and doesn’t see his wife until he comes down again. Is that what you want?”

  Her eyes went cold. “Poor little coddled Molly. What kind of rancher’s wife will she make?”

  He grabbed her shoulders. “Molly, those men that attacked me had been raiding the ranches up and down the Sevier Valley, hitting isolated homesteads like the ones I just described. They shot one settler when he tried to stop them. All I have been able to think about since that night is, what if that had been you, out there in Tropic, with me gone up in the mountains for a month or more? As beautiful as you are, it gives me the chills to think what would happen.”

  His horror washed the anger out of her. “You really were thinking about me in that way?”

  He threw up his hands. “Of course I was. I told you that before I left.”

  She moved closer. “David, I think I’m falling in love with you.”

  That startled him. Then he gave her a wry smile. “What took you so long?” he growled. “I fell in love with you that morning when you accused me of kissing the blarney stone.”

  Her eyes widened, and she laughed merrily. “Really?”

  He looked around quickly to be sure that they were alone, then took her in his arms and kissed her firmly. Then he sobered again. “But that doesn’t just magically make everything right.”

  “It doesn’t?” She laid her head against his chest. “It sure feels like that to me.”

  He wanted to push her back, grab her and shake her, try to make her understand. But instead he put his arms around her and began gently stroking her hair. “You’re leaving, Molly. What are we going to do about that?”

  “I’m praying about that, too,” she said.

  He took her by the shoulders and held her at arm’s length. “Molly, Molly, Molly,” he sighed. “I wish it were that simple.”

  “I’m not asking you to pray,” she shot right back at him. Then she went up on tiptoes and kissed him softly. “Just hearing you say you love me is enough.”

  He started to shake his head, but she pressed her fingers to his lips. “Not now, David. You’re exhausted. I’m sorry I brought it up now. Let’s get you home. We can talk tomorrow.”

  Before his frown could deepen, she raised up and kissed him again, only this time a little longer than before. He closed his eyes and encircled her in his arms and let the kiss linger, savoring the sweetness of her.

  Chapter 29

  Thursday, January 23, 1879

  Molly was not around when David entered the hotel shortly before nine the next morning, but Abby was behind the front desk.

  “Well,” she said when she looked up and saw him. She immediately reached for a piece of paper and grabbed the pen from its inkwell. “Do you give autographs?”

  “Not you too,” he said, making a face.

  “Oh, yes,” she said, her eyes filled with mischief. “In Cedar City, we take our heroes seriously. Fiv
e to one odds. That’s impressive.”

  “Stop it,” he growled.

  Her smile faded. “Really, are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” He raised a hand to wave away any further comments. “It just happened, Abby, and fortunately it turned out well. People are making way too much of it.”

  “Well, we’re grateful it turned out as it did. But if you think Billy Joe thought you were great before, just wait until you see him now.” The mischievous twinkle stole into her eyes again. “In fact, we’re thinking of putting your name forward for sheriff in the next election.”

  His look of disgust made her laugh right out loud. She pointed to the door across from them. “Daddy’s waiting for you. He said to go right in.”

  Just then the door to her father’s office opened and Patrick McKenna stepped out. “Ah, David,” he called. “There you are.”

  “Good morning, Patrick.”

  “Come in.” To Abby, he said, “Will you make sure we’re not disturbed?”

  As he turned back and went inside, David shot her a quizzical look, but she just shrugged and shook her head. He followed Patrick in and shut the door behind him.

  “How are you, David?” Patrick began. “Molly said you looked exhausted last night.”

  So he knew she had been out to meet him. “I was, but twelve hours of sleep helps.”

  “Good. This was quite the trip you had.”

  “Sorry I took so long.”

  “Well, I don’t think anyone over around Orderville is complaining. In fact, they’re hailing you as the conquering hero.”

  “Please,” he moaned. “If anyone gets the honors, it’s Tillie.”

  He nodded absently. “Did you get some time to look at ranch property?”

  So Molly had told him more than just that she had met him last night. “Some,” he said. “Tropic looks the most promising.” He shrugged. “Buying a ranch isn’t in my immediate future. I was just looking, trying to get some ideas.”

  “Well,” Patrick said, making a steeple with his fingertips, “maybe I can help in that regard.” At David’s startled look, he continued, “But more of that in a moment. When are you scheduled to leave again?”

  David frowned. The very thought of it sounded awful. “I’m supposed to leave Monday, but I was going to ask permission to postpone that a couple of days. Let my horse rest up a little.”

  “And you too, I’m sure. Permission granted.” His employer sat back, his face thoughtful. “Do you mind it?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “The circuit. Being out on your own. Sleeping under the stars. Cooking over a campfire all the time.” He grinned. “Having to corral the local bad boys and haul them off to jail.”

  Surprised by the question, David hesitated. Then he shook his head. “Normally, no. This one seemed especially long. I guess because it was.”

  “What if you got a better offer?”

  David’s eyebrows lifted at that. After quick consideration, he said, “Well, I guess if it were truly a better offer, that makes for a simple decision.”

  There was an answering chuckle. “Well said.”

  Again he sat back, watching David, but he seemed far away in his thoughts. Feeling somewhat bold, David decided to risk a question. “In that last meeting, Bishop Arthur said that these calls were a matter of agency, that those called should not feel any compulsion to go.”

  Patrick came back to him. “Yes, and that if we go, we should go with cheerful hearts.”

  “That, too.” He took a quick breath. “If I might speak frankly, Patrick, why do you suppose they called you and Sister McKenna?”

  He snickered softly. “Because we’re such strong pioneer types, you mean?”

  David flushed. “I didn’t mean it that way.” He hesitated, then said, “Well, maybe I did. But it’s more than that. You are a successful and astute businessman. I can see where that would be of value to a new settlement eventually, but why in the initial stages? Seems like while they’re getting things started, there’s more of a need for road builders, teamsters, hunters, and farmers—those who make their living out of doors, and with their hands—than for a businessman.”

  Sobering, Patrick responded, “I know, I know, David. Believe me, we have asked ourselves the same question. Why us, of all people?” He grew even more serious. “I don’t know, David. I just know that we are going to answer the call. That’s what we do.”

  “Will Abby go?” David asked. He had almost said Molly, but thought better of it.

  His employer looked surprised. “If we go, Abby will go.” He thought for a moment. “She’d probably go if we didn’t go. She’s actually quite excited about it. A new adventure and all.”

  David’s head came up slowly. He wondered how much the Zion Canyon experience had influenced her.

  Patrick sighed. “It will be hardest on Molly. Her mother, too, of course. But Molly especially. But no. No one will be staying. We’re all going.”

  “What if Molly decided she didn’t want to go?” David asked, as if the thought had just come to him.

  Patrick’s brows furrowed. “I suppose she’s old enough to make up her own mind, but . . .” He shook off the thought. “No, she’ll go. What else would she do?”

  Before David could answer that—if he had chosen to answer it—Patrick leaned forward, looking at David in earnest now. “What about you?”

  “Me? I wasn’t called.”

  “So? You heard Bishop Arthur. Volunteers are welcome. Let’s see now, of the list of qualifications you mentioned, you qualify as an outdoorsman, a road builder, a teamster, and a hunter. Also, after your latest episode, it sounds like you would be a good man to have around if there was any Indian trouble.”

  “But, I’m not—” he almost said, “a Mormon,” but quickly caught himself.

  “You’re not what?”

  “I’m not looking for somewhere to go. I’ve got employment here. I hope to get my father to move down and live with me before the summer’s over.”

  “I remember you saying that.” Patrick grew thoughtful. “So bring him, too. Didn’t you tell me that he’s a blaster in the mines? Building roads to where we’re going will require explosives.”

  “What? I’m having a hard enough time convincing him to come here. Besides, I have a job here and can’t just up and leave it.”

  “Which brings me to what I would like to say.” He pursed his lips. “I have a proposal for you, David. Please hear me out first, before you answer.”

  “All right.”

  “I’ve been thinking on this for some time, but your little incident over near Orderville was like putting the final stone in the wall for me.” He took a quick breath. “I’m really not suggesting that you volunteer to go, David. Nor is what I am talking about a call from the Church. It is an offer of employment.”

  David’s mouth opened, then shut again.

  Patrick smiled. “That’s right. As you so diplomatically noted a minute ago, the McKennas are hardly model pioneers. What we need is someone who is. Someone who’s good with horses and teams and wagons and camping out and coping with the wilderness and fighting off nasty outlaws and renegade Indians and . . .” He laughed softly. “I suppose that’s enough. I am offering you eighty dollars a month to help get us ready, then one hundred dollars a month to take us across the trail.”

  David was flabbergasted.

  “If your father comes, I will hire him, too, as my contribution to the road-building efforts.”

  They talked for another half an hour—David, still half dazed, firing questions at him, Patrick answering them, his excitement growing because it was clear David was considering it.

  David finally sat back, his questions exhausted, his mind whirling. “A hundred dollars a month?” He shook his head and gave a low whistle. “That’s incredibly generous, Patrick.”

  “Not if you’re as desperate as we are to get some competent help.” He sat back and watched David thoughtfully. “So while I’m
at it, let me see if I can sweeten the pot a little. I don’t know if you knew this or not, but Brigham Young’s policy has always been to give new emigrants land at little or no cost to them. John Taylor is continuing that policy.”

  David leaned forward, eyes suddenly intent. “Say that again.”

  “You heard me right. And while you think about that, remember that Elder Snow said a major concern over there is cattlemen running their herds into Utah. What does that tell you?”

  It clicked instantly. “That there must be some pretty good rangeland over there.”

  “Exactly. The Church is eager to get legal owners on that land to counteract that influence. I know you’re putting your money into the bank. What if you didn’t have to spend it to buy land? What if you could use it to buy your own herd, build a house and barns and stables?”

  David sat back, his mind reeling. And not with just thoughts of land and cattle. Molly wouldn’t be leaving him in a few months. If they did ever marry, she would still be close to her family. It was just one stunning possibility after another.

  Patrick leaned in, pressing his point. “I’m not making that a condition, David. We hope you would stay, but that’s up to you.” He took a quick breath. “I want to say all of this now, before you have to leave again. I want you to think about it while you make your next circuit. When you return, you can give me your answer, and if—”

  “I accept,” David said quietly.

  Patrick’s eyes widened. “Just like that?”

  David chuckled. “This sounds like a better offer to me. I’d have to be three ways from stupid not to accept.”

  Patrick stood up and extended his hand. “Then consider yourself hired.” As David took his hand, the grip was powerful and held him fast. “Sarah will be ecstatic.”

  David didn’t get up, and after a moment Patrick, looking puzzled, sat down again. “Yes?”

  “I have something to ask you, and it may make a difference in your feelings.”

  “Go on.”

  “As you know, I . . . well, Molly and I have . . . uh . . .” He was fumbling badly. “What I’m trying to say is . . .”

  “You would like my permission to start courting her?”

  David breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes, sir, I would.”