Nancy McIntire, a nonmember widow living outside of Gallatin, Missouri.
Jennifer Jo McIntire, older daughter of Nancy; sixteen years old.
Kathryn Marie McIntire, Jennifer’s sister; four years younger than Jennifer.
• * Thomas B. Marsh, a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.
• * Parley P. Pratt, an early convert and a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.
• * John Taylor, an early convert from Canada.
• * Mercy Fielding Thompson, sister to Mary Fielding Smith.
• * Brigham Young, an early convert and a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.
Though too numerous to list here, there are many other actual people from the pages of history who are mentioned by name in the novel. Sidney Rigdon, David W. Patten, Sampson Avard, Edward Partridge, Amanda Smith, and many others mentioned in the book were real people who lived and participated in the events described in this work.
Key to Abbreviations Used in Chapter Notes
Throughout the chapter notes, abbreviated references are given. The following key gives the full bibliographic data for those references.
•American Moses Leonard J. Arrington, Brigham Young: American Moses (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1985.)
•By Their Fruits Jeanine Fry Ricketts, comp. and ed., By Their Fruits: A History and Genealogy of the Fry Family of Wiltshire, England, and Their Descendants, Including the Allied Lines of Harwood, Ramsden, Toomer, Thruston, Bosen, and Maddox (Salt Lake City: Privately published, n.d.)
•CHFT Church History in the Fulness of Times (Salt Lake City: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 1989.)
•Far West Record Far West Record: Minutes of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 1830–1844, ed. Donald Q. Cannon and Lyndon W. Cook (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Co., 1983.)
•HC Joseph Smith, History of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, ed. B. H. Roberts, 7 vols. (Salt Lake City: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 1932–51.)
•HR Milton V. Backman, Jr., The Heavens Resound: A History of the Latter-day Saints in Ohio, 1830–1838 (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Co., 1983.)
•JD Journal of Discourses, 26 vols. (London: Latter-day Saints’ Book Depot, 1854–86.)
•LHCK Orson F. Whitney, Life of Heber C. Kimball (1888; reprint, Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1992.)
•Mack Hist. Lucy Mack Smith, History of Joseph Smith by His Mother, ed. Preston Nibley (Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1954.)
•MFS Don Cecil Corbett, Mary Fielding Smith: Daughter of Britain (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Co., 1966.)
•Persecutions B. H. Roberts, The Missouri Persecutions (1900; reprint, Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1965.)
•PPP Auto. Parley P. Pratt, Autobiography of Parley P. Pratt, ed. Parley P. Pratt, Jr. (1874; reprint, Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Co., 1985.)
•Redress Mormon Redress Petitions: Documents of the 1833–1838 Missouri Conflict, ed. Clark V. Johnson (Provo, Utah: Religious Studies Center, Brigham Young University, 1992.)
•Restoration Ivan J. Barrett, Joseph Smith and the Restoration: A History of the Church to 1846 (Provo, Utah: Brigham Young University Press, 1973.)
When through the deep waters I call thee to go,
The rivers of sorrow shall not thee o’erflow,
For I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless,
And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress.
When through fiery trials thy pathway shall lie,
My grace, all sufficient, shall be thy supply.
The flame shall not hurt thee; I only design
Thy dross to consume and thy gold to refine.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose
I will not, I cannot, desert to his foes;
That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,
I’ll never, no never, no never forsake!
—From “How Firm a Foundation”
Chapter 1
Mary Ann Steed stepped out onto the small porch, slowly and carefully shutting the cabin door behind her. For a moment she stood there, letting the early-morning sunshine bathe her face, feeling the warmth of it on her skin, even though it was not yet six o’clock. Then, stepping quietly so as not to awaken those sleeping inside, she moved off the porch and out toward the front gate. She crossed the road to the split-rail fence that enclosed the pasture across from the cabin and for a moment watched the two milk cows that stood there. They gave her an inquiring look. Their udders were full to the bursting and the two animals were anxious that someone should come and relieve them.
She turned around and leaned against the rail, letting her head tip back. Off to the west a row of starchy white cumulus clouds lined up unevenly, ready to start their race eastward. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. A gentle breeze still carried the freshness of the night. The heat and humidity of the previous three days had softened somewhat, and the Missouri prairie seemed glad for the temporary respite.
Behind her, a meadowlark began its chirping, lilting cry. She opened her eyes and turned, trying to spot it. Mary Ann had once heard Lydia tell her children that if you listened very carefully to a meadowlark’s song, you could hear him singing the words, “Caldwell County is a pretty little place.” As Mary Ann listened now, she smiled. The rhythm of the words did perfectly fit the bird’s song. She sang along softly the next time the bird burst forth.
She straightened and turned back to face the cabin, pushing down a momentary twinge of guilt. She should be starting breakfast. It wouldn’t be long before the Steeds were up, and they would be hungry. All twenty-three of them! Her mouth pulled into a wry expression. Twenty-three. That’s how many were here now, if you counted Derek and Peter Ingalls as part of the family—which everyone did, especially now that Derek and Rebecca were talking about marriage in the spring.
Twenty-three! Nine of them were children under the age of ten, and two of those were infants less than six months old. And all were crunched into two one-room cabins that were crowded even without extra guests. Nor was it as though they could turn to their neighbors for help. Tomorrow was the Fourth of July. Not only were the Saints going to have a grand celebration of the nation’s birthday, but Joseph had announced that they were also going to lay the cornerstones for a new temple in Far West. With the temple in Kirtland lost to the enemies of the Church, that news was greeted with great joy. Now virtually every Latter-day Saint within a radius of a hundred miles had come to town to be present. Far West was like Bethlehem on that first Christmas. Every home had two or three families crammed into it. There was not a vacant lot that wasn’t filled with tents or wagons or both. Not only was there no room at the inn, there was no room anywhere!
Not that Mary Ann would have had it any other way. She reached up and touched her face, remembering a few nights back when she had stood in front of the mirror and gazed at her reflection. She would be fifty-two years old in October. The lines were starting to show around her eyes and mouth, and the first touches of gray were spreading through her hair. She was starting to look more and more like a grandma. It had come to her then, there in front of the mirror, with a clarity so sharp it hurt, how fortunate she was. Many a frontier woman never lived to see forty, let alone fifty. Childbirth, disease, accident, and sometimes just the sheer exhaustion of trying to survive took a heavy toll on the women of America. How many women had she known personally who had never had the privilege of living to see their grandchildren? She could count a dozen or so easily. No doubt those women would gladly have accepted the extra work that came with feeding and housing twenty-three people if those twenty-three were family.
No, on this day, Mary Ann had only one regret, and that was Melissa. The twenty-three could have been more if Melissa and Carl had come to Missouri with them. But Carl was not a member of the Church and had strong feelings against it. Melissa had finally backed away from her commitment to ful
l activity—though she averred that her testimony was still as strong—in order to achieve some peace. And so when the Steeds had left Kirtland, the family had not quite been whole. That was a constant source of sadness to Mary Ann. And yet, other than that, her life was one of great gladness. One had been left in Kirtland, but now another had been found.
Gladness! Suddenly her eyes were burning. If she had died earlier—even a week ago—she would have missed the miracle. After more than a decade of tears and prayers and yearning, Joshua had returned. The son who was lost had been found. Blinking quickly to stay the tears, Mary Ann bowed her head. I thank thee, Father. Oh, how I thank thee for this wondrous gift!
She stood that way for several moments, letting the flood of joy infuse her soul. Then suddenly there was a soft sound off to her left and she opened her eyes. They widened in surprise. “Joshua! Good morning.”
Her oldest son was nearly to her, his boots making almost no sound in the soft dust of the road. He smiled as he came up to her. He took her by the shoulders and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Good morning, Mother.”
“What are you doing up already? I was hoping you could sleep for a while this morning,” she said. “It was so late by the time we finished talking last night.”
He laughed quietly. “And Caroline and I lay there and talked for another hour or two after that.”
Mary Ann’s hand shot out and touched his arm. “You’re not going back this morning, are you, Joshua? You can’t. Not this soon. You just got here.” Last night he had said something about having to get back and see to his freight business.
Joshua stood almost a full head taller than his mother. His hair, still wet from the water he had used to comb it back, was jet black and thick. He had not taken time to shave though, and so his chin was covered with the dark stubble of his heavy whiskers. He rubbed one hand across his jaw, looking a little rueful. “If I try to get my family out of here before Thursday, I’ll be drawn and quartered and left on the prairie as wolf bait. No, we’ll stay for tomorrow’s celebrations.”
Mary Ann threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. “That’s wonderful! I couldn’t bear it if you turned around and left again right now.” She peered up at him. “You and your father need to spend time together.”
He shook his head ruefully. “We were both kind of tongue-tied last night.” In all the hours of talking the family had done after Joseph Smith had finally left yesterday, there had been only limited conversation directly between Joshua and Benjamin.
Mary Ann cocked her head to one side. “Joshua, you and your father haven’t spoken for a long, long time. It mustn’t surprise you too much if there is still a little awkwardness there.”
“I know, I know,” he said quickly. She was right. There was awkwardness, but he sensed that it was more from a sense of strangeness—almost shyness—than from any residual strain between them.
He turned and leaned back against the fence as she had been doing when he first saw her. “I really wasn’t very serious about going back so soon, Mother. I want to be with the family. It’s been so . . .” He shook his head suddenly, his voice becoming gruff. “It’s been long enough.”
She slipped an arm into his, nodding, but also too touched to trust herself to speak. Finally, she cleared her throat. “How did Savannah sleep?”
Joshua chuckled. “That little imp. She was awake at the crack of dawn, wanting to go see her grandpa.”
Mary Ann’s eyes softened mistily. “She is so adorable, Joshua. That red hair, and those big blue eyes. You can just see her mind working quicker than a fox’s.”
He was smiling now too. “I’ve never seen her take to anyone like she has taken to Pa. Even Caroline can’t believe it.”
Nodding, Mary Ann looked up at him. “I was thinking about that last night. Do you know what I decided, Joshua?”
“What?”
“Heavenly Father gave you Savannah to help heal the breach between you and your father.”
One eyebrow went up, but then almost immediately his head bobbed up and down. “You may be right.”
Again they lapsed into silence; then finally Joshua looked around. “Everyone still asleep in there?”
“Oh, I think they’re beginning to stir. Actually, I need to go in and start breakfast.”
“Caroline and Lydia are getting the children up and dressed. I thought I would come help you until they can get here.”
That obviously pleased her greatly. “Why, thank you, Joshua. I would like that very much.”
She straightened and stepped away from him. Joshua reached out and took her hand. “How’s Melissa, Mother?”
Mary Ann’s shoulders lifted slightly, then fell again. “She seems to be doing fine. She married a fine man. He and his father own a livery stable in Kirtland.” She faltered momentarily, then went on more quickly. “They have three wonderful little boys.”
“Why didn’t they come with you?”
She bit her lip. “Carl—Melissa’s husband—isn’t a member of the Church. As things started getting bad in Kirtland, he turned quite bitter against us. Melissa finally decided she had to let the Church go if she was going to save their marriage. I think it came as a relief to Carl when we all left to go west.”
Now her head dropped slightly, and she was staring at the ground. When she spoke, her voice was barely a whisper. “If only they were here now, the family would be complete.”
Joshua stepped to her and put his arm around her waist. “I’ve never had a need to go as far north as Cleveland,” he said, “but we’re often sending teams back and forth along the Ohio Turnpike. The next time I go that way, I’ll detour and go up and see her.”
She laid her head against his shoulder. “Melissa would like that very much, Joshua. You and she were always especially close.”
He laughed softly. “She always took my side when Pa and I were battling. She would try to get me so that I wasn’t so angry, but she always took my side.”
“I know.” She slipped her arm around his waist now as well, and they started walking slowly toward the cabin. As they reached the gate, Mary Ann stopped. Her voice grew very soft. “Do you remember little Jacob at all, Joshua?”
For a moment he looked puzzled; then it clicked. “Of course. I was about twelve when he died.”
There was a long pause before she went on. “I lost four children at birth—they were either stillborn or died within a few hours after they were born—but none of those hurt so fiercely as Jacob’s death. We had him for four precious years. He was such a wonderful little boy, with his long blond hair and sparkling blue eyes.” She laughed lightly. “You and Nathan used to tease him mercilessly, and he loved it.”
“I remember. What was it he died from?”
She shrugged. “Pneumonia probably. It was an early, terrible winter. We couldn’t get the doctor out in time to help him.” She looked away, her hand dropping away from his waist. “I sat and held him while he died.”
She turned back now and looked up at her son. To his surprise, she was smiling. It was radiant, and all the more so because it shone through the glistening in her eyes. “But that pain was nothing compared to losing you.”
“Mother, I—”
She reached up quickly and put her hand over his mouth. “For eleven years you were as dead to me as little Jacob. And now God has brought you back to us. If I were to die this moment, I would die a happy woman. Thank you, Joshua.”
He started to speak, but she laughed lightly and took him by the hand. “Come on,” she said. “We’ve got some cooking to do.”
* * *
Jessica Griffith sat in a rocking chair on the narrow front porch of the Steed cabin, humming softly to the infant sleeping peacefully in her arms. The family had dispersed after breakfast. Rebecca and Derek had finished the breakfast dishes and gone for a walk, hands entwined and heads close together as they moved away. The other men had gone to the northern outskirts of the city to help one of the new settlers put
up a barn. Lydia’s baby was asleep inside, and so she and Mary Ann and Caroline had gone to the center of town to see if there was any mail or any new arrivals at the dry goods store. The children had trooped after them, excited to be together and hoping for a piece of rock candy or maybe even a licorice stick.
Being alone, Jessica had come out into the fresh air to nurse little John Benjamin. He quickly fell asleep, but she did not get up. She was grateful for the chance to have a quiet, undisturbed moment with him. Smiling, eyes filled with love, she reached down and gently stroked his cheek with the back of her finger.
A movement out of the corner of her eye brought her head around. Peter Ingalls was standing at the corner of the cabin, his hands behind him. “Why, hello, Peter,” she said in surprise. “I thought you left with the others.”
He shook his head, not moving except to shift his weight back and forth between his two feet. He gave her a tentative smile, then ducked his head. With a quick flash of insight, Jessica realized he wanted to speak with her. “Come sit down, Peter. Get out of the sun.”
Eagerly Peter moved toward her and sat down on the step, not caring that he was still in the sun. Jessica saw that he was holding a sheet of paper in his hand but half trying to keep it out of sight behind his back. She smiled to herself, sensing that asking him about it too quickly would not be wise. “Tell me about Adam-ondi-Ahman, Peter. Do you like it?”
“Oh, yes, Jessica. It’s lovely.”
His face had lit up, and his blue eyes danced with pleasure. Even though he was now fourteen, there was still a boyishness about him that Jessica loved. His face would always have a youthful look about it, and one shock of his thick, dark hair was continually falling down into his eyes. It did so again now, and he brushed at it impatiently, barely aware that he had done it. His skin was a deep brown and slightly freckled from the sun. That made her smile. When he and Derek had first arrived from Kirtland the previous December, they both were so pale they almost looked sickly. Now that was gone completely, and Peter looked as healthy as a young colt.
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