There was a bare nod and the eyes closed again.
Joshua stood and stepped back from the bed. But he didn’t move beyond that. For a long time he stood there, watching this frail old man who had come to mean so much to him. Finally, when Benjamin’s breathing had deepened and he was clearly asleep, Joshua turned and left the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him.
Chapter Twelve
By the morning of July twenty-second, 1839, Nauvoo, and Montrose across the river from it, looked like one vast battle zone. In a matter of weeks, the ague and the bilious fevers had taken a greater toll than Governor Boggs’s infamous extermination order, and a quiet desperation had settled over the settlements of the Saints.
“What if the Prophet is still too sick to come?” Derek said, between breaths.
Nathan shook his head, hurrying along. “I don’t know.”
Mary Ann had come to Nathan’s cabin in a panic an hour before, totally distraught. Benjamin was in a semi-coma and slipping rapidly. Mary Ann, still very weak and only half functioning herself, had begged them to go for the Prophet. Joseph had healed Benjamin once, in the jail at Richmond. It was their only hope, she said.
“I don’t know,” Nathan said again grimly.
As they turned south on the road that would take them to the Old Homestead, Nathan pulled up short. Derek nearly bumped into him, then stepped around him to see what had brought him up.
A large crowd of people was coming toward them. Joseph was in the lead, but the people swarmed around him, some running out in front, some trotting backwards so they could listen to what he was saying as he strode along. Everyone was talking excitedly. Some were jumping up and down, greatly exercised. Several of the Twelve were walking alongside Joseph.
“What is this?” Derek asked, gaping at the sight. To see so many people up and walking was amazing. And Joseph. Joseph was better again.
Before Nathan could answer, the Prophet turned off and walked to a tattered tent. A woman was at the tent flap, brought out by the noise. The Prophet went right up to her and took her hands. He said something. She nodded and stepped back. Joseph followed her inside the tent. Heber Kimball and John Taylor went in after them.
Then Nathan gasped, leaning forward, gaping. “There’s Parley!” he exclaimed.
“Parley Pratt?” Derek asked dubiously. “How could that be?” Back in November, Parley had been part of a group of brethren charged, unjustly, with murder in connection with the Battle of Crooked River in Ray County; and so he and four others had remained prisoners in Richmond, while the Prophet and five others, charged with treason, were taken to Liberty Jail in Clay County. In April, Joseph, Hyrum, and the others with them had escaped from Missouri. But Parley had not been so fortunate. The last Derek heard, the Apostle still had not been released. Could it be that he had somehow managed to get free and make his way to Illinois?
“It is him!” Nathan cried. He broke into a run, waving his hat. “Parley! Parley!”
Derek saw Parley now too. He was standing beside his brother Orson and John E. Page, another member of the Twelve. He darted off, sprinting to catch up with Nathan.
Parley saw them coming and shouted something. Then he too was running, arms outstretched. He and Nathan collided hard, nearly knocking each other down, but Parley recovered and swept Nathan up in a huge bear hug, swinging him around and around. Derek was grinning widely as he came up to join them.
“I can’t believe it,” Nathan said finally. “When did you get free?”
“July fourth,” Parley said, laughing merrily. “Independence Day. Best one I ever had. But I didn’t arrive in Quincy until a few days ago, and I’m just now up here.”
Nathan stepped back, eyeing his friend up and down. Parley Pratt was a stout man, built somewhat along the lines of Heber Kimball, but he didn’t look it now. He had lost thirty or more pounds, and his clothes hung on him loosely.
Parley sobered. “It is a marvelous story. There isn’t time now to tell it, but I shall come see you.” He clamped a hand on Nathan’s shoulder. “How are you, old friend?”
A frown darkened Nathan’s brow and he shook his head. “Not well. My father is dying. We have already lost one son. Our baby is critical.” Nathan turned now, looking at the crowd milling around the tent waiting for Joseph. “We came to see if Joseph might be well enough to come give my father a blessing.” And then he couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice. “We were afraid that Joseph was still sick. What is going on, Parley? What is happening?”
“A miracle!” Parley burst out. “A marvelous miracle.”
“What?”
He grabbed Nathan by the arm, his fingers digging into the flesh. The excitement danced in his eyes. “I’ve only just joined them, but Orson has told me the full story. This morning Joseph was ill, very ill. But as he was lying in his bed, he said the power of God came upon him. He rose from his bed and blessed Emma. She was immediately made well. He blessed his children. They were made well. Filled with the Spirit of God, he began to move about the house. As you know, he has many people there, caring for them.”
“Yes, we know,” Derek responded.
“He healed them, each one. Then he went out into his yard. That’s where Orson was. He too was very sick. Joseph moved from tent to tent, commanding people to rise or to be healed. He then sent Orson for the Twelve so we could accompany him. That’s when I joined them.”
“And all these people?” Nathan began, his voice tinged with wonder.
“Most of them were too sick to walk as this day began,” Parley said eagerly. “We’ve been moving from house to house, from tent to tent. Time after time, Joseph reaches out.” He shook his head, his eyes shining. “It’s a miracle!”
At that moment, the noise behind them rose again. They turned. Joseph and the others were out of the tent. The woman came out behind them. She was sobbing with joy, and threw her arms around the Prophet. “Thank you, Brother Joseph. Oh, thank you!”
He smiled, patting her on her shoulder. “Thank the Lord, Sister Bonner. I am only an instrument in his hands.”
John Taylor saw Nathan and Derek talking with Parley and walked over to join them. He was smiling broadly.
“Again?” Parley said to his fellow Apostle.
Brother Taylor nodded, his eyes filled with wonder. “Yes, again and again, over and over. It’s unbelievable. He reaches out and speaks a word, and they are healed.”
Nathan grabbed the Apostle’s arm, his voice urgent, but for the first time on this day it was filled with hope. “My father,” he said. “He’s dying. Do you think Joseph could come?”
The Prophet had turned from the woman and was looking in their direction. He came swiftly over. “Nathan. Derek. Good morning.”
“Brother Joseph,” Nathan said, taking his outstretched hand. “Father is very bad. Can you come see him?”
Pain filled Joseph’s eyes. “My old friend and counselor? But of course I shall come.” He looked up, his eyes measuring the number of tents and cabins that lay between where they were and the Steed homesites. “We will be stopping along the way,” he said after a moment. “But you return to Mary Ann. Tell her we are coming. We shall be there soon.”
Nathan nodded, the relief so powerful he didn’t trust his voice to speak.
“Thank you, Brother Joseph,” Derek said huskily. “We’ll tell her.”
“I’m coming,” Joseph said calmly. “Tell her I’m coming.”
“Brother Benjamin.”
There was no response. Benjamin Steed lay motionless on the bed, his face as gray as the previous night’s ashes in the fireplace. His chest rose and fell quickly, and there was a raspiness to the sound of his breathing.
“I think he’s in a coma,” Joshua volunteered.
Joseph ignored that. “Benjamin Steed,” he said in a commanding voice.
There was a flutter of eyelids and the body stirred slightly.
This time the Prophet spoke even more firmly. “It’s Joseph, Benja
min.”
Mary Ann held her breath. Nathan leaned forward, staring. Matthew, who was sitting by the bedside, holding his father’s hand, looked up in surprise. “He just squeezed my hand,” he whispered.
Joseph laid a hand on Matthew’s shoulder. “May I?” he said.
Matthew slipped out of the chair, passing Benjamin’s hand to Joseph as the Prophet sat down in his place. The five Apostles who were accompanying Joseph had come into the cabin with him. There wasn’t room in the small bedroom for everyone, so some stood at the door looking in. Heber went up on his toes so he could see over Mary Ann’s head. “Brother Benjamin,” he called. “It’s Heber Kimball. We’ve come to say hello to you.”
Joseph took Benjamin’s hand in both of his and raised it up in front of him, as though he were going to pray. The movement was enough to break through the veil of unconsciousness. Benjamin’s eyes opened slowly. For a moment, he simply stared at nothing; then finally he turned his head slightly.
“Hello, dear friend,” Joseph said, smiling warmly.
The tip of Benjamin’s tongue darted out, licked briefly at the cracked lips. “Hullo.” It was no more than a croak.
Joseph pulled the hand closer to him, and leaned over so his face was only a few inches away from Benjamin’s. “It’s time for you to get up, old friend.” He heard the gasps from behind him, but went on smoothly. “There’s a lot of sickness across the river. Brother Brigham is sick. We’re going over to see if we can help. I’d like you to come with me.”
Joshua took a step forward, anger darkening his features. “Joseph, are you out of your—”
Nathan reached out and caught his arm, holding him back. Mary Ann turned and shook her head quickly at him.
Benjamin seemed unaware of any of that. But a look of amazement filled his eyes. He shook his head back and forth once. “Can’t,” he whispered hoarsely. “Thought you had come—” He had to stop and draw in several quick breaths. “To say good-bye.”
Joseph laughed lightly. “Nonsense, old friend.” The smile faded away. “Do you want to die, Benjamin?”
Again came the almost imperceptible shake of the head.
Joseph straightened. His shoulders pulled back, and his face was infused with sudden determination. It was as though a bright light had suddenly been thrown across his features. His eyes shone with fire and power. “Then in the name of Jesus Christ,” he said in a voice loud enough that it startled those behind him, “I command you to rise from your bed and come with us across the river.”
For several moments time hung suspended. No one moved. Not a sound came from anywhere. Every eye was locked on the figure lying motionless on the bed. Then, slowly at first, and with considerable effort, Benjamin began to draw in a breath. It was as though he hadn’t breathed for several minutes and now needed to take in sufficient air to make up for the loss. Even as his chest rose, expanding outward and then outward even farther, his eyes cleared and color flowed into his cheeks. At last his lungs had reached their full capacity. For a moment, he held the air in, body frozen immobile, and then in a long, slow sigh, it all came rushing out again. It was a sound of great relief, a sound of poison being expelled from both mind and body, a sound of shucking off the clutching hands of whatever it was that had him in its grip.
And then, pulling heavily on Joseph’s hand, Benjamin sat up.
Joshua was gaping, too stunned to believe what his eyes had just seen. Mary Ann gave one great sob and rushed to the bed, dropping to her knees and throwing her arms around her husband. Nathan looked at Matthew, whose eyes were like two great pewter plates. They both just shook their heads in wonder.
All business, Joseph stood up. “He’s very weak,” he said to Mary Ann. “Water will help. Perhaps a little food. But not too much for now.” He turned back to Benjamin. “I want to see the rest of your family. We’ll be back in a few minutes.” There was that wonderful, flashing smile again, teasing Benjamin. “It would probably be better if you changed out of your nightshirt.” He leaned over and, in a conspiratorial whisper, added, “You know how much Brother Taylor likes a well-dressed man.”
Joseph touched Mary Ann’s shoulder. “We’ll be back. He’ll be fine now.”
With tears streaming down her face, she rose and faced Joseph. She reached out and took his hands. “Thank you, Joseph. Thank you.”
Serious now, he shook his head. “Don’t thank me, Mother Steed. You know as well as anyone where the thanks belong.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
Joseph swung around and started to the door. He stopped in front of Joshua, who was still staring at him with his mouth open and his eyes a little dazed. “We’d be pleased to have your company as we visit the rest of your family, Joshua.”
At Jessica’s house, sickness had taken a double toll. Not only had it swept through the seven of them with varying severity, but the news of the passing of Nancy McIntire had devastated Jenny and Kathryn mentally and emotionally as well. Joseph went through the children, starting with the baby, laying his hands on them and blessing them one by one. Luke and Mark were next, followed by Rachel. When he blessed Jenny and Kathryn, there was an added measure of comfort given and promises of a future reuniting of mother and daughters.
Surprisingly, however, Joseph didn’t lay his hands on Jessica, as he did the others. He simply went to her bedside and knelt down beside it. Her face was covered with a sheen of sweat, but she had the blankets pulled up around her chin and was shivering slightly. Joseph reached out and took her left hand. He turned it over. The scar from where the mobber’s ball had passed through the door and then through her hand was a round circle of purple and red. He touched it with the tip of his finger. “Sister Jessica,” he said quietly, “do you remember what I said to you that day you and the others came to visit, the day after I arrived in Quincy?”
She started to shake her head no, then remembrance came and she quickly nodded. “You said the Lord hasn’t forgotten me.”
“That’s right. He is aware of your sacrifice. All will be well with you.”
“Thank you.”
He looked at her in amazement. “Do you believe me so easily?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Oh, that all had such faith,” he murmured. “No wonder the Lord loves you!”
Derek had put the fever behind him four days before. Rebecca was nearly recovered from her bout of it as well. And baby Christopher had mercifully been spared any signs of the ague. His only discomfort came when the sickness reduced Rebecca’s milk supply and they had to look elsewhere for someone to nurse him. Seeing that things were not so desperate there, Joseph stayed only for a few moments. As he prepared to leave, he turned to Rebecca. “Dear Sister Rebecca,” he began, “the Lord well knows what it will mean for you when your good husband accompanies the Twelve across the sea. He is very pleased that you willingly accept this sacrifice and do not try to hold your husband to your bosom. Fear not about Brother Derek’s safety. He returns to be among his people, and the work that he shall do shall be great. But when it is done, he shall return to you in safety, bearing many sheaves upon his back.”
Rebecca’s eyes shone with gratitude. She went up on tiptoe and kissed Joseph on the cheek. “Thank you, Brother Joseph.”
To Nathan’s surprise, when they reached the door of his cabin, Joseph turned, holding up one hand. “If you please, brethren, perhaps it is best if only Nathan accompanies me inside.”
They nodded and stepped back. To Joshua’s surprise, he felt sharply disappointed. He suddenly realized that watching Joseph minister to the needs of the Steed family had been fascinating. He caught himself. He had almost said in his mind, inspiring.
The two men went inside, Nathan going first. The interior was dim, the only light coming through two small curtained windows. Lydia was in the rocking chair, Elizabeth Mary in her arms. The baby was crying softly, barely whimpering, with weak, shuddering sobs that shook her body. Nathan moved swiftly over to them. “How is she?” he aske
d anxiously.
Lydia shook her head. Then the movement of someone by the door caught her eye and she looked up quickly. She had seen only Nathan come in.
“It’s Brother Joseph,” Nathan explained.
“Joseph?” she echoed numbly. One hand came up and brushed at her cheek, as though there were a spot there that needed removing.
“Hello, Lydia.”
“Joseph, how good of you to come.”
“Emma sends her love and inquires after your health.” Then before she could answer, he stepped closer, peering at the baby. “May I?” he asked, holding out his arms.
Wearily, Lydia passed the baby up to him. Immediately the one-year-old began to cry in earnest again. Joseph cuddled her against his body and started to croon softly to her. Then, as he walked slowly back and forth across the room, he began to speak. “Elizabeth Mary Steed,” he intoned, “by the power of the holy priesthood of God, I take you in my arms. In the name of our Savior and Redeemer, I rebuke the affliction that has come upon you.”
The cry softened, then died to a whimper.
“You have a long life before you as a daughter of Zion. The work of the kingdom must go forward, and as part of that work, the Lord needs righteous, faithful women who will uphold his work.”
Elizabeth Mary stopped crying completely now. Lydia came to her feet, her eyes wide, staring in dumbfounded amazement.
Joseph’s voice lowered until they could barely hear him. “You are one of those chosen to be a mother in Zion, and you shall live to bring forth sons and daughters into the world. And that promise I make to you in the name of the Lord God of Israel, amen.”
Smiling now, he stepped to Lydia and handed the baby back to her. Lydia looked down at her, still not quite believing. The baby’s eyes were closed, and Lydia could feel the steadiness of her breathing.
Joseph turned to Nathan. “The other children?”
Lydia pointed. “In there, but they are all right now. They’re playing.”
“And what about you?” Joseph asked softly.
She tried to meet his gaze but couldn’t. Her jaw started to tremble ever so slightly as she fought to keep rein on her emotions. Nathan moved to her and took the baby. “Let me put Elizabeth Mary down.”
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