“Almost ready,” he said. He stepped back. “Now, Pa, you need to know something. I did get you something.”
“But . . .”
“I didn’t know I was buying it for you. I just wanted Mama to have another one like hers, a set.” He paused. “All right, open your eyes.”
They opened them and looked, then leaned forward, peering more closely. “Oh, they are beautiful, Will,” Caroline said. “What are they?”
“They’re called chop carvings. They are like a stamp or a seal,” he said proudly, “only made of stone. See?” He picked one up and turned it so they could see how the Chinese character and the name had been carved in the bottom of the stone.
Joshua’s eyes were suddenly blurring until he could no longer read his name. “And you bought one for me?” he whispered.
Will took one look at his father and started to cry too. “Yes, Papa. I don’t know what came over me. I guess I couldn’t bear to think of Mama ever forgetting you.”
Joshua stood and walked to his son. Without a word, he took him in his arms, and for a long time they stood there, holding each other.
“Joshua?”
He turned his head on the pillow.
“I’ve been praying night and morning for almost two years now for Will.”
“I know.”
“Your whole family has been praying too. That he would be safe. That God would watch over him.”
“Yes.”
She was silent for several moments; then, very softly, so softly that he had to raise his head to catch her words, she continued. “Do you really think it’s just a coincidence that Will ended up on the very ship that had a group of Mormons headed for Nauvoo?”
“I . . .” He too had been struck by that wonderful stroke of fortune. “I don’t know. Liverpool was a stopping place for them coming and going. So that was fortunate. And the timing, to get changed to the very boat . . .” He shook his head. It did strain the imagination to think of that as mere coincidence.
She didn’t answer him. She didn’t have to.
After several moments of silence, he spoke again. “Caroline, I don’t know what to call it. God. Providence. Good fortune. But whatever it was, I am grateful that our son has returned.”
She nodded and reached out and found his hand. “I know.” Then, “Joshua?”
“What?”
“I would like to thank God. Would it be all right if I did it out loud?”
There was a moment’s hesitation, and then he squeezed her hand. “Yes.”
She took his other hand too, then closed her eyes. “Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.” Her voice caught, and he felt the quick, angry shake of her head. She did not want to lose control. She wanted to say this. Finally, she took a quick breath and went on, her voice thick and labored. “Oh, Heavenly Father, how we thank thee this night for the gift of our son. How we thank thee for hearing and answering our prayers. We know that it was thy hand that kept him safe. We know that it was thy goodness that led him to that ship in England which brought him home swiftly to our side. We know how much thou didst love thy own Son, and we thank thee that thou hast cared for our son as well, and held him in thy safe keeping. And we offer this prayer to thee in the name of thy Son, Jesus Christ, amen.”
For several moments, Joshua lay there, his own emotions swirling. Then finally, he spoke one word, softly but with great feeling. “Amen,” he said.
Chapter Notes
The concepts of faith and sacrifice discussed by Joseph here are found in the “Lectures on Faith,” lectures 1 and 6. The laying of the first log in Kaw Township happened on 2 August 1831. The “season of joy” quote is found in Joseph’s history under that date. (See HC 1:196.)
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Will watched with amusement as his Uncle Nathan took off his coat and scarf and hung them carefully over a dead tree limb next to the tent. Then Nathan started unbuttoning his shirt, first the sleeves, and then the front.
“You really are going to do it?” Will asked.
Nathan looked up in surprise. “Of course. Ten days without a bath? I get up in the morning thinking I’ve been sleeping with a bear, then I realize it’s just me I’m smelling.”
Will turned and looked at his father and Carl, who were sitting by the fire drinking coffee out of tin cups. Joshua took one last sip, then tossed the remaining liquid into the fire. “Now, don’t you be getting any ideas, Will. I don’t care what I smell like, I’m waiting till we get back to La Crosse, then I’m paying for a bath and a shave. A man’s gotta be crazy to wash off in a creek when there’s snow on the ground and frost in the air.”
Nathan ignored the gibes and finished taking off his shirt.
“Mind the ice along the creekbank,” Carl said soberly. “Wouldn’t want you to be cutting yourself.”
Nathan hooted in derision. By morning there would be a skim of ice across the places where the current was slower, but it hadn’t been that cold today. “Couple of hothouse plants,” he muttered to himself, unbuttoning his long johns now. He looked at Will. “Must be a real disappointment for you, Will,” he said with a trace of sorrow.
“What’s that?” Will asked.
“To come home and find your father’s gone as soft as a Boston preacher. Body turning to mush. No backbone anymore. Whimpers at the first sign of discomfort. Tragic how some men let themselves go to seed.”
Joshua grunted, picked up a rock, and lobbed it at his brother. It wasn’t anywhere close and Nathan didn’t even flinch. Will nodded soberly. “I hadn’t wanted to say anything, but I was a little shocked.”
Carl chortled as Joshua howled in dismay. Joshua grabbed a stick and took a swing at Will across the fire from him. “From my own son?” he cried. “I don’t have to take that kind of talk.”
“Careful, Will,” Nathan called as Will rolled away from the swinging stick. “As the Book of Mormon says, ‘The guilty taketh the truth to be hard, for it cutteth them to the very center.’ ”
Joshua was not about to be nonplussed. “And the Bible says, ‘Only a fool taketh a bath in November in Wisconsin.’ ”
They all laughed at that. “I think you need to read the Bible a little more, Pa,” Will said.
Nathan pulled his long johns down to his waist, stripped bare now except for his pants and boots. He moved to the creek, carrying a bar of soap and a pan. He knelt at the water’s edge and bent over. Joshua began to laugh. “Hey, little brother, don’t forget your cap.”
Nathan looked startled, then reached up and removed the stocking cap Lydia had knit especially for this trip. He looked sheepish. “Oh yeah, thanks!”
Tossing the cap aside, he scooped a pan of water out of the creek and dumped it over his head. “Oh! Ooh! Oh my!” The cries came in swift succession as he began to scrub at his hair.
“That’s better,” Joshua laughed.
They watched in amusement as Nathan bent over and stuck his head clear under the water to rinse out the soap. Then he started on his arms and face and chest, howling and gasping at every new plunge into the water. Chuckling, Will looked at his father. “I’m with you, Pa. I think I’ll wait for La Crosse. We should be back there in a couple of days, shouldn’t we?”
“I’d say more like tomorrow night. I think we’ve found what we’re looking for. I say we break camp and leave in the morning.”
Will was a little surprised at that. His father hadn’t said anything about being finished. They had been tramping these forests for the past four days, his father leading them like a man possessed. They scouted the Black River from where it joined the Mississippi above La Crosse all the way up several miles past the Black River Falls, a distance of some thirty miles or so. They found at least five good possibilities for a mill site—three on the Black River itself, and two more on Roaring Creek, a major tributary. They retraced their steps on several occasions, calculating how a raft of lumber would fare in the various stretches of rapids. Joshua drew rough sketches of landmarks clo
sest to the best stands of timber. It hadn’t taken long for Carl and Nathan and Will to be infected with Joshua’s enthusiasm. And the vastness of the virgin forests of western Wisconsin did nothing to discourage it either.
Though Carl and his Englishman partner were well into the construction of their brick kiln in Nauvoo, Joshua had persuaded Carl to come north with them anyway. Carl would not be directly involved in the new partnership Joshua was contemplating, but Joshua valued his quiet, solid business sense. Joshua’s plan—mostly developed as they trekked through the woods—was for him and Walter Samuelson, his St. Louis business partner, to furnish the capital, and Nathan and Will and maybe Matthew, when he got back from England, to manage the day-to-day operations. Nathan had not committed to this as yet but seemed intrigued. Will hadn’t dared say a word to either of his parents, but he was missing the sea and was still not ready to dismiss the idea of making a run for a sea captainship.
“Do you think Grandpa’s group will be back in La Crosse when we get there?” Will asked his father.
“Could be. Either way we’ll wait for one another.”
Will nodded. Joseph Smith also saw the potential of the Wisconsin timber belt as a solution to the Church’s building problems. So when he heard that Joshua and Nathan were headed north on an exploratory trip, he asked Benjamin and other members from the building committee to join them and see what the prospects for Church sawmills might be.
“Hey, Will,” Nathan called, still bent over and soaked now to his waist. “I forgot the towel. Can you get it for me?”
Will went to the tent and retrieved the towel. Nathan stood as he came near, so Will opened it up as he approached Nathan. “Turn around. I’ll get your back.”
Obediently, Nathan turned, facing the creek, putting his back to Will and the fire. Will stepped forward, then went rigid. There was an audible gasp.
Nathan jumped and spun around, thinking Will had seen a snake or something. There was another sharp intake of breath as Will saw the bare chest. “Uncle Nathan! What happened to you?”
Nathan didn’t comprehend for a moment. He never thought much about the scars anymore. Then as he realized what Will had seen, he reached out and snatched the towel from Will’s hand and wrapped it around the upper part of his body. “It’s nothing, Will.”
“Nothing!” Will cried, barely aware that his father and Carl had come to their feet behind him. “You forget I’ve been on board a ship for the last two years. I know the mark of the lash when I see it.”
Nathan finished drying himself, then pulled up his long johns and started buttoning them. “Really, Will,” he said, smiling easily. “It’s nothing to be concerned about. It happened a long time ago. I never think about it anymore.”
Will turned to his father, wondering if his father had seen what he had just seen. To his surprise, Joshua was pale and visibly shaken. Carl also had a strange look on his face. “What?” Will asked, sensing that the scars were not a surprise to these two. “What is it?”
Joshua finally lowered his head and turned to stare into the fire. “Tell him, Nathan.”
“No!” It came out softly and without emotion, but there was no question about the finality in Nathan’s voice. “It’s done with, Joshua. Let it lie.”
“He has a right to know. It’s part of his father’s life.”
“No!”
Will was totally bewildered. “Part of your life?” he echoed.
Joshua straightened slowly. He looked to Carl for help. Carl finally nodded. “I think you’re right. Now that he’s seen it, he has a right to know.”
Nathan came up and laid an arm across Will’s shoulder. “Let’s sit down. There’s more to the story than your pa’s going to tell you.”
When it was finished, when Joshua and Nathan had told him everything, they arose and, with Carl, went to their bedrolls, leaving him sitting by the fire. For almost half an hour Will sat motionless, staring into the glowing embers. Strangely enough, his thoughts did not stay for long on what had happened between these two previously estranged brothers. Though it shook him deeply to think that this man who had become his father was capable of such a thing, the reconciliation between Nathan and Joshua was complete. The scars were not the only things that had healed.
Instead, his thoughts turned to Nathan’s final words. “You know,” he had said, half musing, not speaking to anyone in particular, “sometimes things happen that give a man cause to hate someone else. It may even be a good reason. So he takes hate to his bosom and holds it close, like he’s afraid it will slip away from him if he lets go. But it’s like putting a prairie rattlesnake inside your shirt. No matter how good a reason you may have for doing so, you’re going to be the one who gets bit.”
It was only now that it hit Will that Nathan had meant those comments for him. And now his thoughts turned to Jenny. When Hugh Watson and Riley Overson came to Independence and spun the web of lies about Joshua being killed by the Mormons, Will had swelled with hate. Even after he learned it wasn’t the Mormons who had shot his father after all, he found that the bitterness didn’t go away. As Nathan said. He had nurtured those feelings for too long. You didn’t just root them out in one yank and have it be as it was before.
Jenny had sensed that hostility in him almost from the first instant they met, and it had nearly cost him any chance of becoming friends with her. Even now sometimes, when some aspect of the Mormons was mentioned, he felt himself turning away, bristling all over again. It was stupid. It was totally irrational. But it was there. And Jenny seemed to know that too.
There was the snap of a twig and Will looked up in surprise. Joshua was standing across from him, on the other side of what was left of the fire. “May I join you?”
“Of course.”
Joshua came around and sat beside him. Like Will, he leaned forward to stare into the embers. After a long time, he turned his head. “I’m sorry, Will. I should have told you before. It’s not something I can speak of very easily. I consider it to be one of the darkest days of my life.”
“I understand. Thank you for telling me now, Pa.”
“You would have seen Nathan’s back sooner or later. I’m just glad I was here to be the one to tell you about it.”
“Me too.” Will pulled his legs closer and hugged himself. With the fire down, the cold was edging in on them. “Pa?”
“Yes, son?”
“I just realized that what Nathan said—about hate? Well, he was talking to me, wasn’t he?”
Joshua stiffened. “You?”
“Yes. All those months of thinking you were dead and that the Mormons had done it to you. He knows how much I
hated—”
Joshua was shaking his head doggedly back and forth.
“What?”
“Don’t you understand, son? Nathan knows full well what’s happening between your mother and me over this Mormon thing.” There was discouragement in his voice now. “No, Will, Nathan wasn’t talking to you. He was talking directly to me.”
In addition to his assignment as a member of the building committee for the temple, Benjamin was also doing considerable work with and for the acting city council. John C. Bennett had been in Springfield since October conference, vigorously lobbying the state legislature for the passage of the Nauvoo City Charter. In his latest letter to Joseph he reported that he was getting a surprisingly warm response to the proposal. Much of that was the result of the political parties’ courting the growing bloc of Mormon voters, but be that as it may, Bennett predicted passage of the charter before the end of the year. So Joseph called together a committee and asked them to begin working out plans for implementation if the charter passed. Benjamin was one of those called.
All of that had happened just before Benjamin left for Wisconsin. Now, back only two days, he found that his desk in the room where the building committee had taken up temporary offices was still piled deep with papers. Most were related to the temple, but several were papers relating to the city’s
government. He was determined to get through the work and told Mary Ann not to wait supper on him. So when there was a knock on the door just after six p.m. and Caroline and Mary Ann walked in, it came as a surprise.
“I’m sorry to bother you, Benjamin,” Mary Ann said without preamble, “but we have a question, or rather a proposal.”
“All right.”
“If you agree, we need to get started on it immediately, like even tonight.”
He laid the pen down and pushed the papers aside.
“Go ahead, Caroline,” Mary Ann said.
Caroline stepped up beside her. “Sister Charity Blackmun was in the store this afternoon. She’s from Massachusetts originally, and somehow we got talking about Thanksgiving. She said what a disappointment it has been to her that Thanksgiving isn’t celebrated here.”
“Thanksgiving? You mean like the Pilgrims’ Thanksgiving?”
“Yes. It’s widely observed in New England. Several of the states back there have even made it a state holiday. But it’s not here in Illinois.”
He shrugged. He hadn’t even thought about it.
“Well,” Caroline went on, “Charity says she and her family are going to start it here. She’s going to have a big dinner on Monday for the whole family, with all the things the Pilgrims ate—wild turkey, pumpkin pie, sweet potatoes.”
Benjamin smiled. “She’ll have to pass on the cranberries. Not a lot of cranberry bogs in Nauvoo that I know about. That’s for sure.” He paused for a moment. “Why Monday?”
“That’s the last day of November,” Caroline answered. “That’s when they always celebrated it back home.”
Now he saw what was coming. “And you think it might be a good idea if the Steeds did the same thing?”
Mary Ann was eager now. “Yes. We have so much to be thankful for, especially this year with Will home and Carl and Melissa here. Let’s get our family together and thank the Lord.”
That was not a difficult decision to make. “I like it,” he said. “Let’s do it.”
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