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

by Gerald N. Lund

  “Then ya be gettin’ me awl blubbery.”

  She laughed aloud, slipped her arm through his, and laid her head against his shoulder. “I doubt that. I doubt that very much.”

  Notes

  ^1. Margaret Nielson’s question about whether this would be their home comes from the Nielson family records (see Carpenter, Jens Nielson, 50). Arabelle Smith’s desire to build beside Mary Jones comes from the history written by her grandson (see Raymond Jones, “Last Wagon,” 25). The account of the woman who thought the valley at Bluff was no bigger than her backyard also comes from that same source.

  ^2. Just a short distance below the top of the ridge, where San Juan Hill comes out on the top of Comb Ridge, there is a faint inscription carved into the face of the cliff. It is barely discernible now, after years of weathering. There is no record as to who may have carved those words (see note on page 734). Because the inscription so perfectly epitomizes the spirit of that gallant and undaunted band of pioneers, I chose to make it an integral part of their story.

  Chapter 72

  Wednesday, April 21, 1880

  As David rode slowly along, his head kept swinging back and forth in amazement. Could this really be the same place from which he had left just two weeks before? Stakes with strips of cloth were stuck in the ground everywhere, marking out both sides of what was to be the main street. Virtually every lot now had something on it. About half of the lots had wagons parked on them, but it was the other half that surprised him. He counted about a dozen “wickiups,” or dome-shaped huts made of woven willows plastered with mud.

  But most astonishing was how many houses were already under construction. As he rode slowly along he counted nearly two dozen foundations, with stone fireplaces already jutting their fingers up like spears stuck in the ground.

  As his eyes took in everything, he made a mental note to talk to Patrick about a business idea that was forming in his mind. There were no trees in the valley other than cottonwood trees along the river. Cottonwood lumber was twisted and gnarled, and that showed in the homes now being built. The logs had been squared as much as possible, but because they were so crooked, there were cracks between them, some three and four inches wide. That would take a lot of chinking and plaster.

  David had just come from the Blue Mountains, where pine forests stretched as far as the eye could see. That was only forty miles to the north. If someone were to build a sawmill on one of those creeks up there, it could provide lumber to the whole territory. Sooner or later, someone was going to think of that, so why not let it be Patrick? David had found a good ranch site, and had carefully written out a description of the surroundings so as to make his claim. He would ride up there again with his father, perhaps as early as next week, and see if he agreed.

  But that was going to take time, and in the last couple of days he had come to another conclusion. Right now, he was needed here. There was so much to do—getting houses built, crops planted, an irrigation ditch dug, corrals and barns put in place. The ranch could wait. In the meantime, a sawmill would be not only an important contribution to the settlement but a source of income until he could get the ranch started.

  Seeing Sarah and Patrick standing beside a wagon just ahead, he urged Tillie forward to join them. They called a greeting as he rode up, and when he pulled to a stop, Sarah reached up and patted his arm. “It is so good to have you back. Did you have any luck finding a ranch?”

  “I did. There are some very promising places.” He looked at Patrick. “And remind me to talk to you about a possible business opportunity. But right now, I’d like to find Dad and let him know I’m back.”

  “And Abby?” Sarah asked innocently. She didn’t wait for an answer. “Your father and Abby and Billy Joe are up working on the ditch.”

  “I saw some of the crops under irrigation, but I was a little surprised there weren’t more.”

  Patrick grunted in disgust. “It’s not for lack of water. It’s just that this soil is so sandy, the dams keep collapsing and the ditches fill up with silt.”

  He acknowledged that with a murmur. “So,” he said, looking around. “Molly got off, then?”

  “Yes, just four days ago.” Sarah pointed to her eyes. “Can’t you tell? I haven’t stopped crying yet. She went with the Hunters and the Uries. You remember them, don’t you? Both young couples from Cedar City.”

  “Sure. So they were going back? Are they coming back?”

  There was a quick shake of her head. “I don’t think so.”

  David fell silent, thinking about how much Molly loved her family. But even that wasn’t enough to hold her here. “And what are your plans? Jim and Mary Davis told me you’re going to move up to Montezuma Creek and live by them.”

  “That’s right,” Patrick said. “You probably haven’t heard any of this, but we had a real brouhaha over the distribution of land. There just isn’t enough here for all of us. Platte finally worked it out to where all were satisfied, but I’m no farmer, David. You know that. I can do business in Montezuma Creek as well as in Bluff City.”

  “Bluff City? Is that what we’re calling it?”

  “Yeah. Bill Hutchings suggested it. Everyone seems to like it because of the bluffs on both sides of town. Anyway, Abby and Sarah would really enjoy living by Jim and Mary, so I think we’ll move up there in a couple of days.”

  “And by the way,” Sarah said, “we have another baby in the company. Alvin and Emma Decker had a little boy.”

  “Good for them. There’s something about this trek that sure makes for healthy babies.”

  And then, as an awkward silence settled in, Sarah leaned forward and poked him. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. Go. Go see your—” a slow smile stole across her face—“father.”

  “If Abby’s up there, do I need to take a sidearm?” he asked ruefully.

  Patrick laughed. “We’ve taken the buggy whip away from her. I think you’ll be all right.”

  To David’s great surprise, when he reached the place where Patrick had told him to go, the only one working there was Abby. She had a shovel in her hand and was cleaning out the ditch. When she looked up, she didn’t seem at all surprised to see him. “Hello,” she said softly.

  “Uh . . . hi,” he stammered. “I was looking for Dad. Your parents told me you were all up here together.”

  “We were,” she said. “But they’ve gone back to the wagons.”

  “Oh.” He looked back the way he had just come. “I didn’t see them.”

  “They didn’t want you to. We heard that you had just passed through town and thought you might be coming out here.”

  He turned slowly. There was the hint of a smile in her eyes as they watched him steadily.

  “Is there something I should know?” he asked.

  “I can think of several things.”

  He nearly asked what, but realized she was baiting him and enjoying it very much. He lifted a hand. “Well, I’ll go find them. Uh . . . sometime, we need to talk.”

  “No,” she said. “I don’t think we do.”

  “Oh?” He frowned. “Still playing freeze-outs, are we?” He couldn’t quite keep the disappointment out of his voice.

  Her amusement only deepened. “No, not that, either.”

  She lifted the shovel and stuck it in the pile of wet sand. Then, to his surprise, she started coming slowly toward him. “I’m glad you’re back, David.” She took his arm, tugging on it. “Come. There’s a nice cool place over there by the river where we can talk.”

  “But . . .” He was bewildered now. “You said we didn’t need to talk.”

  “That’s right. We don’t need to talk. But I have some things I need to say.”

  They sat together, leaning against a fallen cottonwood tree, their shoulders barely touching. He reached over and traced the lines of her mouth with his fingertip, still dazed with wonder. “If I had known all this, I would have come home two weeks ago.”

  Her head moved back and forth. “No. Even if I had
known how to contact you, it was better this way. For all it was Molly’s decision to leave you, this would have devastated her. After she’s been back in Cedar City for a time, she’ll be all right. Now that I know you’ve forgiven me, I’ll write her a long letter.”

  “Forgiven you?” he cried. “What about you forgiving me?”

  “Oh yes, that.” An impish gleam was in her eye. “Actually, Mary took care of that for you.”

  “She did?”

  “Yes. My goodness, you really have a defender there. Mary tore into me real good. Told me that if I didn’t stop being such a brat about you kissing Molly, she was going to marry you off to Emily. And after listening to Emily talk about you, I knew that was not an idle threat.”

  The wonder only deepened for him. “I came back hoping, Abby. But I thought it might take months before we could work things out.”

  “Oh, it will,” she said sweetly. “Maybe even years. We have a courtship to go through. There’s still a lot of rough edges that I’m going to have to iron out.”

  “I’ve got more than a lot of those,” he said ruefully.

  She smiled. “I wasn’t talking about you.” She reached up and laid her hand against his cheek. “Mary also told me that it was time that I faced the fact that I had loved you for a very long time.”

  He pressed her hand more firmly against his face. He could feel the roughness of the calluses on her fingertips and along the heel of her hand. Strangely, that touched him deeply. For all of her beauty, for all of her grace and intelligence and wit, somehow the calluses were Abby too. They endeared her to him all the more.

  “What about me?” he asked. “I should have known it that day up on Angel’s Landing. You were so frightened, but when I came back down, there you were, come across on your own. I was stunned. And then when you told me about your fear of heights, I thought you were the most remarkable woman I had ever met.”

  She poked him. “Well, it sure took you long enough to say it.”

  He sobered. “I just needed to grow up enough to where I could see past Molly. I’m sorry I was so dense.”

  Her smile died away now as well. “When you came back from the scouting trip and told us about the miracles you had experienced, the sheep and Salvation Knoll and so on, did you know I cried myself to sleep that night?”

  He was astonished by that. “Why?”

  “Because when I saw how you had changed, I knew there was nothing to prevent you and Molly from getting married anymore, and that broke my heart.”

  He turned his head and softly kissed her hair. “Ah, but there was. There was you, Abby. Dad saw it before I did. So did Mary. I kept telling Molly that we couldn’t deal with courtship or romance while we were on the trail, but I see now that that wasn’t the real reason I kept stalling. I just feel bad that I made it so hard on her.”

  “Why do you think I told Carl no, when he asked me if he could come courting?”

  “Oh, Abby, Abby, Abby. I can’t believe all of this is really happening.”

  “Nor I.”

  He sat up. “Well, the first thing to do is go ask your father if I can come courting.”

  “No,” she said. “That’s the second thing. First, I want to know something. And I’m deadly serious about this, David.”

  “All right.”

  “I need to know if you have any plans of taking me away from San Juan.”

  That surprised him. “Well, as you know, I’m thinking of becoming a rancher eventually. Probably up around the Blue Mountains. I’m going to take Dad up to look at it sometime. I’d hoped that someday I might take you up as well, and see if you approve. But that’s only about forty miles from here and—”

  She cut him off. “The Blue Mountains are fine, but no farther.” Then she became wistful. “It’s really strange, David. But I love this country. We fought too hard to get here to simply turn around and leave again. It feels like home to me already. I know it’s going to be hard for a while. Maybe a long while. But I want to raise our children here, and our grandchildren. So don’t you be thinking you’re going to be taking me away from here.”

  “You have my word on that,” he said gruffly.

  He stood and pulled her up. “Now, I have a question for you.”

  She turned her face up to him. “What?”

  “If I were to kiss you right now, would I get myself in trouble all over again?”

  She leaned back, considering that carefully. Then the corners of her mouth turned up and her eyes began to twinkle. “Do you remember that buggy whip of mine?”

  His eyes widened. “I do.”

  “Well, if you don’t kiss me right now, I’m going to go get it.”

  Patrick McKenna took his daughter in his arms and pulled her close. “Is this what you want, my dearest Abby?”

  “Oh, Daddy. More than anything else in the world.”

  He kissed her cheek, held her a moment longer, then turned to David. “I think the answer is yes, David,” he said. “You have our permission to court our daughter.”

  Abby threw herself into her mother’s arms as Billy Joe started jumping up and down. “Yay! Yay!” he cried.

  Then Sarah came to David and pressed her head against his chest. “Thank you, David. I knew it would work out.”

  “How long have you known?” he said.

  She laughed. “Since you came back from that first trip with Silas. When you were telling us about your experience with Mary and Po-ee-kon and Yaheeno, I just suddenly knew that it was going to be you and Abby rather than you and Molly.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Abby cried.

  “Because,” she said archly. Then she slapped David playfully on the arm. “And for a while there, I wasn’t sure this lug was going to get it worked out himself.”

  “Fur a while,” David’s father drawled, “Ah thought Ah might ’ave ta tek a six-poond ’ammer ta this boy an’ knock sum sense inta ’im.”

  Abby came to John, laughing and crying at the same moment. “And I decided that if David wouldn’t marry me, I would marry you instead.”

  They all had a good laugh at that. As they quieted again, David reached out and took Abby’s hand. “I would like you to stand between your parents for a moment, if you would.”

  She gave him a questioning look, but after a moment she complied. David reached in his pocket and brought out a small blue box. He opened it, extracted a silver necklace, and handed the box to his father. Very somber now, he walked to Abby, holding it out. “My dearest Abby,” he said softly, “as a token of my love for you and as a witness of my determination to court and marry you, I now place this around your neck.”

  She turned her back to him, reaching back to lift her hair out of the way as he fastened it. When she turned back, tears had begun. She brushed at them quickly. “There you go again, David. Making me cry some more.”

  “Do you know what this is?” he asked, touching the necklace.

  “I do,” she murmured. “Your father told me all about it that day we rode back from San Juan Hill.” Then she turned to him. “You knew, didn’t you? Even back then, you knew.”

  “Ah did,” he said happily. “Ah joost dinna know how long it was gonna tek fur you two ta figure it all oot.” He raised a finger. “But, what David ’as naw tole you is the necklace cums wit conditions.”

  “Conditions?”

  “Aye. It gets passed on to me first granddaughter.”

  Abby’s mouth softened. “Whose name shall be Anne.” She looked at David. “If you agree.”

  David took her in his arms and kissed her as his answer. When he pulled back, he looked deeply into her eyes. “Abigail Louise McKenna. Will you marry me?”

  “I will.” She kissed him quickly. “When?”

  David turned to her father. “Patrick, if you don’t think it is too soon, I would like to marry Abby on June the fifth. That’s six weeks from now.”

  “Ah,” his father said in a choked voice, “that be the same day that Ah married me swee
t Annie twenty-nine years ago.”

  “Then I think June the fifth sounds like a wonderful day,” Patrick said.

  Saturday, June 5, 1880

  “I hope you all know,” Bishop Jens Nielson said, trying very hard to sound grumpy, “dat dis be not where I usually perform da marriage. Ven dere is no temple, den people do dis in dere living rooms, or at the church house.”

  Mary Davis just laughed, knowing he was teasing them. “Sorry, Bishop, but our living room is also our bedroom and our kitchen and our study and our . . . well, you get the idea. We’re lucky to get the seven of us in our house, let alone several dozen more.”

  Mary Nielson Jones stood just behind her father. She gave him a poke. “And since there is no church house yet, and since the St. George Temple is about a three-week journey from here, you’re just going to have to make do with the riverbank, Papa. So stop giving this poor couple such a bad time. David and Abby have already waited six weeks for this to happen.”

  “Six weeks!” Abby protested. “I’ve been working on this man for over a year.”

  Everyone laughed as David blushed, then grinned. “She’s right, Bishop. Why do you think so many people came to watch? They can still hardly believe it.”

  “Amen,” George Hobbs called out.

  “Still can’t,” Kumen Jones chortled.

  It was a good crowd that stood under the cottonwood trees at the confluence of Montezuma Creek and the San Juan River. Platte Lyman, who had returned to Escalante for a wagonload of flour, had just returned a few days before. Silas Smith, who had finally caught up with the company in San Juan after his long illness, stood beside his two counselors. Many of those who were homesteading Bluff City had come up too. A wedding was something to celebrate. The Davis and Harriman families, now “long-term” residents of the area, having been here for a year, were there, along with others from Montezuma Creek.

  Little Emmy Davis was their flower girl. She was barefoot, but wearing her best dress and clutching a handful of sunflowers. Billy Joe was the best “man” and was nearly bursting, he was so proud. With the entire mission presidency finally together, David and Abby had debated about who should perform the marriage, but in the end they both agreed that it should be their beloved Bishop Nielson from Cedar City.