The Undaunted : The Miracle of the Hole-In-The-Rock Pioneers

by Gerald N. Lund

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

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

  “Granted.” He laughed at David’s expression. “Why do I get the feeling that was harder for you than facing that band of renegades?”

  “Only because it was.” He grimaced. “Maybe five times more. But thank you, Patrick. I will treat her with the utmost respect.”

  Patrick leaned forward, elbows on the desk, resting his chin in his hands. “This won’t change my answer, but I’m curious about something. May I get personal with you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Do you believe in God, David?”

  David felt the breath go out of him. But he knew that he had to be honest, especially if this man was going to end up as his father-in-law. “To be right straight with you, Patrick, I do. I believe in a Supreme Being, the Great Creator, Divine Providence, or whatever else people call Him. But you shouldn’t read more into that than is there. I would have to say that my feelings about God are very likely quite different from yours . . . or Molly’s.”

  “In what way?”

  “I don’t believe in a God who watches over us all the time and intervenes in our behalf when we get in trouble. For example, Molly asked me if I thought I was going to die when that man had his rifle in my chest. Then she asked if I’d thought of God in that moment of crisis. If I’d prayed for help.”

  “And how did you answer her?”

  “I had to say no. I don’t think the idea of asking Him for help even crossed my mind, whereas Molly said it would have been the first thing to come to her mind.”

  “I see,” Patrick said thoughtfully.

  “My mother experienced great tragedy in her life. When she turned to God for help, nothing ever happened. Eventually, her own mother died because of it.” David looked away, and his voice went soft. “I watched my mother die too. I was thirteen at the time.”

  “And you prayed and nothing happened there either?” Patrick guessed.

  He nodded. “Mum always said that God had better things to do than watch over poor people like us. We had to learn to make our own way in the world. She said when we cried, He wouldn’t hear us, basically because He didn’t care.”

  Patrick said nothing, so David went on. “I know how important your faith is to you, Patrick. And to be honest, it makes me a little envious that you view Him as such a personal being. But I don’t feel that way. Not sure that I ever can or will.”

  Patrick leaned forward, quite earnest now. “Does Molly know any of this?”

  David chewed on his lower lip for a moment, then shook his head. “I think she may suspect, but no, we haven’t talked in these kinds of specifics.”

  “Abby told me a little about your mother. She also told me about sharing Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s poem with you. That’s why I asked my question.”

  So, David thought, he already knew. He felt a rush of gratitude that he had been forthright in his answer. “If that makes a difference in how you feel about Molly and me, then—”

  Patrick waved that away. “I told you that your answer wouldn’t change mine, and I meant it. My only question is this.” Then he gave a quick shake of his head. “No, it’s not a question, more like a suggestion. When the time is right, you need to tell Molly that. Don’t hold back on her, David. This is too important. She needs to know, so she can deal with it.”

  “I will.” Now it was David who stood. “And thank you again for your confidence in me, Patrick. You really took me by surprise.” Then another thought came. “Does Molly know you’ve offered me this job?”

  “No. Nor Abby nor Billy Joe. Only Sarah.” A slow smile stole around the corners of his mouth. “Actually, this was partially her idea. As for the others, maybe it’s best if we don’t say anything quite yet. I’d still like you to have a chance to think on it. When you come back we can make it official.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Cedar City, Utah Territory, January 23, 1879

  Dear Dad,

  I am sending this letter via the postmaster in Coalville and have asked him to find someone to read it to you when it is delivered. There is much to tell you.

  I returned to Cedar City after Christmas to find things in turmoil. I told you about the stake conference in Parowan which Bro. McKenna asked me to attend with his family. It proved to be momentous. The Church has called dozens of people to open new settlements in the southeast corner of the territory and in northern Arizona. The McKennas were among those called. Big shock for them. And for me. I wasn’t sure what this all would mean for my employment and my situation down here.

  Turns out it has great implications for me. And for you! Brother McKenna will definitely answer the call and take all his family with him. That is amazing in a way, because he is a businessman, a city person, and this will be a challenging task. BUT!!! Just today, he asked me if I would accompany them as his employee. I will be his “wagon boss,” as it were, which means simply that my job will be to prepare them for the journey and get them through safely. The salary is most generous and will add significantly to the “ranch fund.”

  Therefore, I leave on my last mail circuit next week, and on my return (about February 12th or 13th) will begin my work with him. Dad, Bro. M. knows that you have agreed to quit the mine and come live with me. He wants to hire you as well and have you GO WITH US!!! We will need people with road building experience, especially blasting knowledge. I know this comes as a shock, but please think about it. PLEASE! Pray about it. (I know that sounds odd coming from me, but you believe in prayer and maybe it will help convince you.) This feels right, Dad. I am certain it is.

  It is important that you decide quickly and clear your affairs to get here as soon as possible. There is much to do, and we may be leaving as early as April. So don’t think about it too much. Just do it. Hope to have a letter from you saying you’ll come when I return.

  Love, David

  Chapter 30

  Wednesday, February 12, 1879

  When David reached Cedar City after completing his final mail circuit, the sun was about an hour from setting. Not wanting to see any McKennas until after he’d had a chance to wash off two weeks of trail grime, he avoided Main Street and went right to the livery stable. He was relieved when a boy he didn’t recognize came out to help him.

  Soon David was soaking in a hot tub in the boardinghouse, thinking about Molly. Today was going to be a surprise—more likely a genuine shock—to her, and he was anticipating that very much. He thought back to that morning two weeks ago when he had come to the post office to pick up the mailbag before starting on his last circuit. She had been waiting at the post office with her father. He could tell from her circumspect behavior that her father had not said anything about David requesting permission to court her. He was glad for that. It would be best coming at the same time as Patrick’s announcement about their new “wagon boss.”

  Half an hour later, as he came down the stairs of the boardinghouse, he stopped in surprise. Molly and Billy Joe were there waiting for him near the front door. Billy Joe’s grin was half a mile wide, and he started waving wildly the instant he saw David. Molly’s smile was warm and welcoming, with just a touch of shyness. “Hi, stranger,” she said, moving over to meet him.

  “Hello, Molly. Hi, Billy Joe. How did you two know I was back?”

  “Daddy left word at the stable that they were to let him know the minute you returned.”

  “Oh. Does he want to see me?”

  “Actually,” she said, “Billy Joe and I are here to escort you home. Your company is requested at our supper table tonight. Mama said to tell you there were to be no excuses. She’s made your favorite, roast beef and mashed potatoes. And—” she paused for dramatic effect—“English trifle.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope. Sister Rowley up in Parowan taught Mother how to make it. She and her husband are from Worcestershire.” She said the last word Wor-chest
er-shire.

  “Us natives,” he drawled, “pronounce that Wooster-shur.”

  She blushed. “I know, but us foreigners can never remember that.” Then came that wonderful smile again, and the warmth in it made him tingle. “We are to go straightaway.”

  He looked at them both more closely. Billy Joe had on knickers and thick woolen socks. He wore a light blue, long-sleeved shirt beneath his jacket. His hair had been wetted and slicked down—except for the ever-present rooster tail—and he looked like he was headed for church. Even his shoes were polished. Astonishing!

  Molly was also dressed more nicely than her everyday dress. Her skirt, full and to the ankles, was a dark blue, and beneath her winter coat she wore a white blouse with ruffles around the collar. Her hair was brushed back from her ears and tied loosely with a ribbon that matched the color of her skirt. This allowed it to cascade across her shoulders and down her back.

  “What’s the occasion?” he said, nodding his approval. “You’re not sneaking me off to some church meeting, are you?”

  “No,” she laughed. “Just supper. But Daddy insisted we dress up for it. He’s actually more excited about it than Mama, which is unusual.”

  So he plans to make the announcement tonight. Good. As far as David was concerned, the sooner the better. He and Molly had much to talk about. He smiled at her. “So,” he said, “a little mystery with our roast beef? Sounds interesting. Lead on.”

  As they reached the walk and started up the street for the McKenna home, David reached out and squeezed Billy’s shoulder. “How have you been?”

  “I taught Paint a new trick,” he said proudly.

  “Paint? Who is Paint?”

  The boy’s face lit up. “That’s right. You weren’t here. I got a new horse for my birthday.”

  “Really? When was your birthday?”

  “A week ago. On the sixth.”

  “Is your horse a pinto?”

  Billy Joe put his hands on his hips, tipping his head to one side. “How did you know that?”

  “Just a guess,” David chuckled. “Whoo-ee! A new horse. Maybe there’ll be time after dinner to show me. So what trick did you teach him?”

  “I taught him to say thank you after I give him an apple or a carrot.”

  “You don’t say,” David said. He glanced at Molly for confirmation.

  “Don’t ask me how he did it,” she nodded, “but he did. That crazy horse actually nods his head after Billy Joe gives him something to eat.”

  The boy was beaming. “Won’t do it for anyone but me.”

  “Smart horse,” David said. “Do you want to teach him to come when you whistle?”

  “Yeah! That would be neat.”

  “Okay. You’ve got school tomorrow and the next day, so how about Saturday? Maybe we could go riding.” He winked. “Maybe even have a race. Think Paint can beat Tillie?”

  Billy Joe’s face fell. “I don’t think we should race.”

  “Oh? Why not?”

  A grin began at the corners of his mouth and spread all the way up to his eyes. “Cuz we’ll beat you so bad, you won’t want to be my friend anymore.” Then, convulsed with laughter, he broke into a run. “I’ll tell Mama you’re coming.”

  Patrick was waiting for them at the front door. He grasped David’s hand and pulled him into the vestibule. “Welcome back, David.”

  “Thank you. It’s always good to be back.”

  “Last time. How does that make you feel?”

  Molly whirled. “Last time for what?”

  She had started to remove her coat but stopped with one sleeve half off. Her father stepped forward quickly and helped her. “Your mother wants you to take out the biscuits, dear,” he said.

  “Last time for what?” she asked again, this time looking to David for help.

  Her father gave her a little push. “Mama said they need to come out now. Off you go.”

  She went, but not without casting a curious look over her shoulder.

  Once she was gone, David turned to Patrick. “So, you plan to tell them tonight?”

  “You haven’t changed your mind about going with us, have you?”

  “No way. In fact, I even started making a list of things that need to be done.”

  “Wonderful. I’m absolutely delighted, David. This will be such a relief to Sarah and me. I’ll make the announcement right after dessert.”

  “And . . . ?” David gave him a searching look.

  He tried to look puzzled, but couldn’t hold it in. “Yes, I’ll announce that too.”

  David wrinkled his nose. “Not sure how Abby will take it.”

  “What? The news about you coming with us, or the news about you and Molly?”

  “Both,” he said glumly. “I’m not sure she will approve in either case.”

  “Oh, I think you may be surprised. It might interest you to know that several times in these last two weeks, when we’ve been talking about what all this means—” He gave a short laugh. “Actually, we talk about little else anymore. But several times, Abby’s said, ‘Maybe we ought to ask David what he thinks about that.’”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. A legacy from our Zion Canyon outing, I think.”

  “So has there been a departure date set? Did they decide to send out an exploring party?”

  “Yes, that’s official. Silas Smith will lead that. He hopes to leave the first week of April. And they’re still talking like that expedition may take as long as six months.”

  “How many will be going?”

  “Silas is still working that out. He’s thinking a party of twenty-five, or thereabouts.” His brow furrowed. “Right now, it looks like a couple of families will be going with them.”

  David reared back. “Families? On an exploring expedition?”

  “I know. I had the same question. But, according to Silas, they’re anxious to go. They want to be the first to answer the call, as it were. You kind of know one of them. Do you remember the man who got up and spoke in the meeting we had with President Lunt? He said his wife was with child. His name was James Davis.”

  “I do.” Then the implication of that hit him. “But I thought you said her baby wasn’t due until July or August.”

  “That’s right. But they are determined to go now. Also the Harrimans. Don’t know if you know them or not. They’re from Parowan. Good family. They also have four children.”

  David couldn’t help it. His look was openly skeptical. “Eight children and a woman with child on an exploring expedition? Seems a little . . .” He shrugged. It wasn’t his call, nor his concern. “So that means that the main company will have eight or nine months to get ready, rather than two or three. That’s good.”

  “I had exactly the same thought,” Patrick agreed.

  They fell silent for a few moments, and David wondered why they were still out here in the vestibule and not going in. Then Patrick grunted. “Ah, here he comes.”

  David turned. Coming up the walk was Carl Bradford, Patrick’s number-one assistant. “He had to wait for the night clerk to cover for him at the hotel,” Patrick explained.

  “Has he decided what he’s doing?” David wondered.

  “Not yet. Maybe when he hears our announcement tonight, he’ll declare himself.”

  “I thought you were thinking of having him stay here and manage the hotel for you.”

  “I am, but I won’t say anything about that until he decides about going.”

  “Got you,” David said. “I’ll be careful about what I say.”

  Patrick chortled. “Why do I find that a little hard to believe?” Then he stepped forward and opened the door. “Evening, Carl. You’re just in time.”

  “So,” Sarah McKenna said, watching David finish the last of his dessert. “How was the English trifle?”

  He frowned deeply. “It was just awful, but . . .”

  Her eyes widened, and both Molly and Abby looked shocked.

  “But I can’t be absolutely sure
of that,” David said, looking perplexed, “so I think I’d better have another bowl to make absolutely certain.”

  That redeemed him. Laughing, Sarah leaned forward, took his bowl, and refilled it. “It’s a good thing you finished that sentence, young man.”

  He took the bowl and ate another large spoonful. “It is delicious, Sister McKenna. I mean really wonderful.”

  “How does it compare to what you had back in England?”

  A frown creased his forehead. “Actually, I can’t answer that. I don’t remember ever having trifle before.”

  Her mouth opened slightly. “You’re from England, and you’ve never had . . .” Then she laughed. “You’re joking, right?”

  He lifted another bite, wishing he had said nothing. But he decided he couldn’t just let it go now. “Actually, I’m not. I don’t remember ever having afters, or desserts, as you call them, following a meal. In fact, for a long time, I thought dessert was an American thing.”

  No one said anything to that, but their dismay was evident.

  David went on. “Part of it was being poor, I suppose. That’s the life of a coal miner’s family. But since I’ve grown older now, I’ve wondered if much of it may have been because my mother was saving every penny and shilling she could scrape together so we could come to America.”

  Abby leaned forward enough to look past Carl at David. “And it worked.”

  “Aye,” he said softly. “It worked. She was frail as a ghost physically, but pure steel in every other way.” He cleared his throat and picked up his spoon again. It was time to change the mood. “Anyway, Sister McKenna. Though it is my first experience with English trifle, I do have to say that this is the best I’ve ever eaten.”

  She laughed again. “You must have been a handful for your mother when you were a boy.”

  “Hear! Hear!” Abby murmured.

  Patrick chose that moment to stand up. He nodded to his wife. “Thank you, Sarah, for a wonderful dinner.” There was a round of echoing sentiment to that.

  “And thanks to the girls for their help.”