Chapter 8
Iowa City, Iowa
I
Tuesday, 8 July 1856
When the Thornton reached New York Harbor, Maggie McKensie’s English class had been suspended. As they moved across the United States by train and steamer, there simply wasn’t time or place for it. Maggie encouraged the two Pederson brothers and Ingrid Christensen to use English as much as possible, but that was all they could do. Then shortly after their arrival in Iowa City, Iowa, Brother Willie asked Maggie if she could start class up again. Once again Maggie felt gratitude for Sarah’s wisdom in suggesting that they speak only English in class. The progress of her three students was evident to all. Each of the three of them was now helping Elder Ahmanson translate instructions for the Scandinavian contingent.
Emboldened by Brother Willie’s encouragement, Maggie asked if she might have permission to extend the class by half an hour and go two hours. Now that her three students were getting better, she needed more time to allow them to practice their writing and also reading. Without hesitation, both of the brethren approved.
The “desks and benches” made up of crates and barrels on the ship were now replaced by fallen logs and trampled prairie grass. Other than that, and the fact that Maggie had three regular “teacher’s helpers” now—Sarah, Emma, and Hannah—everything else was pretty much the same. They came together beneath a grove of trees near the river immediately after the evening meal. There she put them through their paces vigorously for the next two hours until the call came for evening prayer and lights out.
At the moment, Ingrid, Olaf, and Eric were taking turns reading aloud in English from the Book of Mormon. Maggie stood back, watching Sarah, who had moved over beside Eric and watched as his brows furrowed in concentration. If Eric stumbled, Sarah would gently correct him. If he looked up at her, she would look away quickly. When he became absorbed again, she studied his face, her eyes wide and luminous.
Part of Maggie wanted to smile at that; another part of her wanted to cry. With the McKensie and James families sharing the same tent, that put the two sets of sisters—four eligible young ladies—in one tent. With Ingrid assigned to them as well, that made one more. So it wasn’t surprising that the young men in camp started “happening by” to stop and talk. Emma, Ingrid, and Hannah brought some attention, but since they were only sixteen, that was more flirtation than any serious courting. Maggie was acknowledged politely, but there was no question what drew them. It was Sarah James. In the minds of the young men in their company—and Maggie agreed completely—Sarah James was the prettiest girl in all of camp. And the fact that she was not promised, even though she was of the age to be married, was like putting wild honey before a pack of bear cubs.
But Sarah had eyes for none of them. She saw only one person in the camp who interested her and that was Eric Pederson. So the young men would come and laugh and chatter and strut a little, but the only time Sarah’s eyes would light up and her face start to glow was when Eric was around. And that was where the sadness came in. Sarah James only had eyes for Eric Pederson, but Eric Pederson only had eyes for—Maggie stopped, frowning a little. What? She still wasn’t sure. For English? Maybe. He certainly was focused on mastering this new language. But for sure it wasn’t for Sarah. Whenever he came to class he was totally absorbed in learning. He treated Sarah in a friendly manner and seemed quite comfortable around her, but if he noticed the way she looked at him, if he saw the way she hung on his every word, if he paid any attention to the longing in her eyes when he was talking to others, he never gave the slightest sign of it. And it was driving Sarah to distraction.
Was he blind? Sarah was so lovely, so captivating, so disarmingly beautiful, and yet Eric seemed unaffected by her. Maggie could not imagine what it would be like to look like that, not even to the smallest degree. There was no resentment in her envy of her friend. Sarah had become far too dear to Maggie for that. But there were times when Maggie just watched her in quiet awe. She was flawless in both inner and outer beauty. How could Eric not see that?
One night, whispering together long after the adults were asleep, the five girls decided that there had been a tragic love in Eric’s life or that he had left a fiancée or a special girl behind in Norway. Hannah, never the shy one, immediately took Olaf aside the next day and grilled him on it. There was no one back in Balestrand. So that wasn’t it either.
It was a puzzle, and Maggie was trying to work it out. Eric was twenty-two years old, past the age when many young men married. And just as Sarah was drawing the attention of the young men in camp, so Eric was drawing looks from the young women. Even Maggie had to admit that as she had come to know him through class, he was the first person she had found who compared favorably to James MacAllister. In fact—and this admission did not come easily to her—in moments of complete honesty, she knew he was several notches above James. So why couldn’t he be like the other young men in the camp? For that matter, why couldn’t he be more like his brother?
If Sarah had her eyes on Eric, then both Emma and Hannah had decided that Olaf was the one for them. They flirted with him shamelessly and he reveled in it. He lit up at the sight of them and stayed that way until they parted again. In fact, the two of them had been so encouraged by his response, that they were now beginning to speculate about him as a possible husband. Through all of this, Ingrid said little.
The older sister in Maggie tried to laugh that off, but she finally faced the fact that these two were not girls but young women. Emma had just turned sixteen on board ship, but Ingrid and Hannah would both be seventeen in a few months. Though Olaf might be a year or two away from marriageable age, seventeen was the most common age for young girls in Utah to marry, according to the missionaries.
For a time Maggie worried that having both of them falling for Olaf would create a strain between them, but like Sarah and Maggie, Hannah and Emma were far too close to each other for that. Instead, they simply began to talk about the possibility of Olaf’s having two wives. As for who would be first wife, they hit upon a unique solution. They would marry him simultaneously and share first-wife status between them.
Maggie sighed, pulling herself back to what was going on. If she knew how to help Sarah in this matter she would, but she did not. She turned to watch. Eric was still reading. They were in the book of Mosiah.
“ ‘And it came to pass,’ ” he read slowly, “ ‘that there was a man among them whose name was—’ ” He stopped, leaning over his book more closely. His finger came up to touch the word. “A—,” he started, pronouncing it with the same vowel sound as apple. “A-bin—”
Maggie wagged a finger at Sarah, warning her not to jump in and help him too quickly. Olaf and Ingrid, reading from Hannah’s copy, were likewise peering at the page. Ingrid’s lips moved as she experimented too, but she said nothing.
“A-bin-AHD-ee.”
“We say it A-BIN-a-dye,” Sarah said, smiling at him.
“A-BIN-a-dye?”
“Yes,” Maggie and Sarah said together.
His eyes never lifted from the paper. “Say again, please.”
“A-BIN-a-dye,” Maggie said slowly. “The second syllable is stressed. How do you say it when you read it in Danish?”
He flashed her a sheepish grin. “Ah-bin-AHD-ee. But vee—we,” he quickly corrected himself. “We were not sure how to say it.” He cocked his head, as though listening to himself. “A-BIN-a-dye.”
“Yes, that’s it,” Maggie said. “Good.”
“A-BIN-a-dye,” Ingrid and Olaf said together.
“Good.” Maggie stepped forward and shut the book. “That’s enough reading for now. Before we end class, I would like to teach you a song.”
“We learn music?” Olaf said. “That is good.”
“This is a song you have not heard before. A man who was here in Iowa City with one of the earlier companies wrote it especially for us handcart people. Brother Spencer came by our tent last night and shared it with Sister James. I think you
will like it.”
“What is this song?” Eric asked.
“It’s called ‘The Handcart Song.’ ”
“ ‘Handcart Song’?” Ingrid repeated. “This will be good for us, since soon we pull handcarts too, no?”
“Exactly,” Maggie said. She reached in the pocket of her apron and pulled out five half sheets of paper. She handed one to each of the students and then one to Hannah and Emma, keeping one for her and Sarah to share. “Here are the words.”
After Brother Spencer had left last night, Maggie had carefully printed out the words to the song on five separate pieces of paper. She wanted them to be able to read them for themselves. “Let’s read the words together first, and then Sarah and I will sing it for you.”
Sarah jerked around. Maggie hadn’t thought about doing that until this moment. She just smiled. Sarah had a clear, sweet voice, and the two of them loved to sing the songs of Zion together at worship services. On board ship they had often sung to Sarah’s younger brothers and sisters to get them to sleep. Sarah immediately nodded. “All right.”
“But let’s read it through first. I didn’t write down all the stanzas—the verses—but just a few of my favorites. Sarah, will you lead us? Let’s all read together. Slowly the first time.”
Sarah scooted closer to Maggie and looked at the paper. “All right. Everyone ready.”
They read in unison a lot in class now and were getting better at it all the time. As the Scandinavians read with Sarah, Maggie heard them stumble on a word here and there, but they made it through. When they finished she looked at them. “Any questions?”
After a moment Eric pointed at a word. “What is CHORE-us.”
“It’s pronounced KOR-us,” Maggie said. “It’s the part that we sing after each verse.”
That seemed to be the only question. Maggie waited for a moment, and when they all looked up, she stood up. “All right, Sarah, let’s teach them the song.” She looked at her students. “The melody is an old Scottish song. Or at least we had it in Scotland. You may recognize it.”
They moved together and linked arms. Then Maggie hummed a pitch. “Okay?”
Sarah nodded and they began.
Ye Saints that dwell on Europe’s shores,
Prepare yourselves with many more
To leave behind your native land
For sure God’s Judgments are at hand.
Prepare to cross the stormy main
Before you do the valley gain
And with the faithful make a start
To cross the plains with your handcart.
“Okay,” Maggie said quickly. “Here’s the chorus.” She motioned with her hand for Hannah and Emma to join in. They did, smiling and singing in full voice.
Some must push and some must pull
As we go marching up the hill,
As merrily on the way we go
Until we reach the valley, oh.
“All right,” Maggie said. “Have you got it?”
“I like that song,” Ingrid said.
“Then let’s try it together.”
“What means ‘the valley, oh’?” Olaf asked.
Emma answered. “It’s talking about the Salt Lake Valley. The ‘oh’ is just a way to emphasize something. It’s like saying, ‘Oh, that’s wonderful. We will be merry when we reach the valley. Oh!’ ”
“Oh,” Olaf said. Then he realized what he’d done and they all laughed together.
Maggie raised her hand again. “All right, second verse. We’ll sing it. You try and follow along as best you can. Then we’ll all join in on the chorus.”
With everyone singing the chorus, it became a little ragged, but they sang it lustily and with enthusiasm. Having the four girls singing along with them helped the students. Maggie was surprised to hear that both Olaf and Eric had clear tenor voices. When they finished the chorus, the four sisters clapped heartily.
“All right, everyone, here’s the next verse,” Maggie announced. “Sing along if you can, but come in on the chorus for sure.”
But ere before the valley gained
We will be met upon the plains
With music sweet and friends so dear
And fresh supplies our hearts to cheer.
Then with the music and the song,
How cheerfully we’ll march along
So thankfully you make a start
To cross the plains with our handcarts.
Eric and Olaf and Ingrid were following along, humming snatches, heads bobbing.
“All right,” Sarah called out. “Everybody now.”
Some must push and some must pull
As we go marching up the hill,
As merrily—
“Sarah. Emma.”
They turned in surprise. Jane James was walking swiftly toward them, waving her hand for them to stop.
Sarah stepped away from the others and toward her mother. “What is it, Mama?”
She came up, a little out of breath. “There is good news, Sarah.”
“What?”
“The next company has just arrived in Iowa City.”
“The next company?” Maggie said.
“Yes! Remember? There was one more ship leaving after ours. They were led by Elder Edward Martin.”
“Oh, yes,” Sarah said. “And they’re here?”
“Yes. And you’ll never guess who’s with them.”
“Who?”
“Elizabeth Jackson!”
Both Emma and Sarah exclaimed as one, “Really?”
Jane turned to Hannah and Maggie. “Elizabeth Jackson is a dear friend of the family. She and her husband, Aaron, and three children were going to go with us on our ship, but there wasn’t room. They had to wait for the next one.”
“And she’s here now?” Sarah said.
“That’s what Elder Spencer said. The group is staying in town tonight, just as we did that first night we arrived. I’m going in to Iowa City to try and find them.”
“Is Papa going?” Sarah asked.
“No, he’ll stay with the children. He says that you and Emma can come in with me if you’d like.” She looked at Maggie and Hannah. “And your mother said you can come too.”
Maggie nodded, then suddenly remembered her class. She turned to them, but the three Scandinavians had already understood most of what had been said. “It’s all right,” Eric said. “We shall stay here and practice the song. Then tomorrow we shall sing to you.”
“Wonderful,” Maggie said, laughing at his enthusiasm. “Thank you.”
•••
Fortunately, it was half past eight by the time the five women reached the cavernous roundhouse where the engines were turned around and sent back east across the railway line. Many of the children had already been put to bed, and that made the job of finding the Aaron Jackson family a little easier.
Aaron Jackson and his wife, Elizabeth, were younger than Maggie had expected. She had assumed they were closer in age to Brother and Sister James, who were in the mid-forties. But Sister Jackson was closer to thirty, Maggie guessed, and her husband only a year or two older than that. They had three children—girls seven and almost five, and a boy, named after his father, who was two. Young Aaron was asleep in his father’s arms, and the senior Jackson seemed to have no inclination to put him to bed just yet.
Brother Jackson peppered the four girls with questions about Iowa City while his wife and Jane James celebrated their unexpected reunion. Sarah and Emma were drawn into the conversation with the two women, so Brother Jackson made it his task to speak with Maggie and Hannah. He wanted to know when they had come, how long they had been there, why they hadn’t left as yet, how many handcarts they had yet to build, when they would be leaving.
As they answered as best they could, Maggie kept letting her eyes sweep across the crowded building. How grateful she was that this wasn’t their first night in Iowa City! If all went well they would be leaving within the week. Then she straightened, staring at the back of a man f
ussing over a little girl with thick dark curls. “Excuse me, Brother Jackson,” she broke in, “but isn’t that Brother John Jaques?”
He turned, then nodded immediately. “Yes. Do you know Brother Jaques?”
“Not really. We saw him back at Liverpool as we were checking in to board the ship. Brother James told us about him. He was an editor at the Millennial Star, right?”
“That’s correct. And a very good one too.”
Now Hannah remembered. “He’s the one who wrote that letter to his father that was published in the Star.”
“His father-in-law, actually. James Loader. Yes, that’s the same Brother Jaques. In fact, we were berthed close together, our two families. We have become quite dear friends.”
His wife turned. “Who is that, dear?”
“The Jaqueses.”
Jane James looked surprised. “He’s here?”
“Yes,” Emma answered. “Right over there.”
“Speaking of James Loader,” Brother Jackson went on, “you’ll never believe what happened tonight.”
“Oh, yes,” Elizabeth Jackson said. “This is wonderful. You know the story about the letters?”
“Yes,” Hannah said. “We just mentioned them, in fact.”
“Well,” Brother Jackson went on, “while we were getting settled for the night, Patience Loader showed up looking for John and his wife.”
“The Loaders are here?” Sister James exclaimed.
“Yes. I guess they just got here yesterday on a train from New York. Brother and Sister Jaques were stunned. As far as they knew, the family was not coming west this year.”
“But they are?” Maggie asked. “By handcart?”
“Evidently,” Aaron Jackson said. “That’s what Patience told them. John’s wife went with Patience to join the family. Their baby, little Flora, was so tired that John stayed here with her. But tomorrow they’ll all be together again.”
“So Brother Jaques’s letter made them change their mind?” Maggie asked, interested that someone else who had strong feelings about not coming had experienced a change of heart.
Fire of the Covenant Page 21