Morning Star

by Marian Wells

  Heber C. Kimball’s words caught her attention. “Brethren, sisters, in the Lord. We are all concerned with how we get right with our God. But don’t let this uneasiness possess your soul. I will tell you—it is knowledge. We must all increase in wisdom in order to gain salvation. The very act of believing on another man’s testimony helps us increase in knowledge. Thereby we gain wisdom and the power of God. As for your leaders, my advice is simply this: Whatever you are told to do—do it. If our advice leads you astray, the burden will be upon our shoulders, not yours.”

  Joseph Smith stepped forward and Jenny felt the tension and excitement grow. Unexpectedly Jenny found herself responding, leaning forward to catch his words.

  More soft-spoken today, Joseph repeated words they had all heard before, but even Jenny acknowledged the need to hear them again. “My people, I must remind you that the ordinances you have received, and more, will be multiplied and increased for your good in the days which lie before you. But these are not new. In the beginning, the ordinances of the priesthood were passed on to Adam. This sacred trust was given to him at the creation, even before the world was formed. Remember that Adam is Michael, the archangel. Do not forget that Noah himself is Gabriel. When Daniel speaks of the Ancient of Days, he is referring to the oldest man who lives, our Father Adam. I will not keep you long this Sabbath day. I want only to remind you again that Father Adam presides over the spirits of mankind. He is our God.”

  The crowd was breaking apart, drifting homeward, when Sally and Andy hurried toward them. Sally threw her invitation across the people. “Come home with us?”

  Mark shook his head and Jenny called, “You come with us; there’s chicken in the oven.”

  When the Laws arrived, Sally and Jenny had just finished the dishes. As they came into the house, Jenny stood awkwardly in the doorway, suddenly shy and inadequate. She spoke tentatively, “Shall I prepare tea?” Jane Law glanced at her husband as she slowly drew off her gloves.

  William frowned, but Mark said, “Some of us will enjoy a cup.”

  As Jenny turned into the kitchen, she was very conscious of Sally’s trill of excited laughter. “Kitchen maid,” she muttered to herself, cringing as she reached for the teacups. She had heard that Jane and William Law were wealthy. She peeked through the doorway. The Canadians’ British accent was nearly as intimidating as their fine clothes. Jenny eyed the fluffy gray fur edging Jane’s brocade cape before she turned to load her tray.

  Graciously Jane accepted the cup of tea. “Lovely china,” she murmured with a smile. “My favorite pattern.”

  Tamara cuddled close to her mother, and her solemn blue eyes watched every move Jane made.

  The conversation between the men cut through Jenny’s thoughts. As she brought Mark tea, she lingered beside his chair. William was saying, “I’m fearful of what will happen if Bennett’s excesses aren’t curbed. I’ve tried talking to the man.”

  “Bennett?” Sally’s laughter interrupted and the men turned, “But the council took care of him when they pushed his brothel into the gully last autumn!”

  “Unfortunately that isn’t the scope of his endeavors.” William rumbled on. “Women aside, his biggest threat right now is the image he’s projecting of the Saints.”

  “You’re referring to the articles?” Mark asked. Jenny knew he was talking about the series the Times and Seasons had published.

  Jenny couldn’t hold back the words, “I wondered why the Saints’ newspaper printed them.”

  William scrutinized Jenny before he said, “I wondered too—certainly there was nothing good to be accomplished.”

  “What were they about?” Sally asked.

  “Well,” Jane replied, “most certainly he informed the world at large that Joseph is a power to be reckoned with, that he now has at his disposal the power to avenge the wrongs inflicted upon his people in Missouri. He has demanded satisfaction for wrongs, and hinted Missouri land must be restored to the Saints.”

  William added, “We weren’t in the States when this all happened and, to be certain, the information we’ve had is limited, but nevertheless we saw it as a war cry.”

  Heavily Mark said, “I’m afraid it was intended to be. I tried to get Joseph to stay Bennett’s hand, but . . .”

  Andy continued, “He’s too powerful. He had Joseph eating out of his hand. Now it’s too late to curb the man. Our only hope is that he will tire of the game and go home.”

  William frowned. “You seem convinced the man is insincere. Is there a possibility he’s warping the mind of the Prophet?”

  “A man of God being warped by a mere mortal?” Mark snorted, and Jenny, studying his face, saw how ludicrous the idea was. A secret question which had its birth in the articles slipped away and she sighed with relief. Obviously Joseph didn’t support the articles. She caught Mark’s sharp glance; then William began speaking again, his voice rumbling slowly and thoughtfully.

  “Mark, it’s a different problem that plagues me today. You know Foster and I are engaged in trying to put up homes in Nauvoo as quickly as possible. Some of these poor people spent the winter in wagons and shanties. That ought not be so. You also know Joseph is determined the temple and his precious Nauvoo House will be built first. There’s a real tug-of-war taking place. I’m here to ask your intervention.”

  Mark replied bitterly, “What makes you think I have any more influence with Joseph Smith than you?”

  The man sighed, “I’d hoped.” When he spoke again his voice was thoughtful. “He threatened to excommunicate any man who bought land without consulting him. I don’t like some of his financial ventures, such as publishing his revised Bible. I honestly feel he’s misusing the money he has collected to build the temple and the Nauvoo House.”

  Mark’s shoulders straightened. “Law,” he said sharply, “that’s a serious charge.”

  “I know. Right now I wouldn’t make it in court, but there’re indications he’s invested the funds in real estate and then sold at a profit.”

  “Is that all that’s bothering you?” Mark asked.

  “No. I’m deeply disturbed because of the workers on the temple site. They’re living on parched corn. There’s no income for the work, and they’re practically starving.”

  Andy added, “These are the men who bought land on the Iowa side and then lost everything when the deeds proved to be fraudulent.”

  “Foster and I are fighting to get the materials to erect houses before winter. Now Joseph is saying the Nauvoo House must be built, that our salvation depends upon this happening.” For a time, William sat with his head bowed to his chest. When he finally sighed and straightened, he looked around the room and muttered, “I tried to remonstrate with him about some other things. I can’t tell you all, but I was sorely tried when he informed me in a lighthearted manner that if the results were as I feared, we could both go to hell, and that hell is by no means the bad place it’s been pictured. To the contrary, Joseph thought it was a pretty agreeable place.”

  Jenny felt the shock of the statement, but Mark’s eyes holding hers made her shiver even more. The question in their depths could not be avoided: he was challenging her commitment to Joseph. She turned away from them all with a tired sigh, but even then she knew the questions couldn’t be avoided any longer.

  That Monday when Mark guided his mare out to the main road, he had put William Law’s conversation behind him. As he faced the sunshine cresting the rolling hills of Nauvoo, he thought of the blank page of the week stretching out before him. He knew of the items that needed to be placed on the page, he also knew of the problems that were pressing him, demanding their rightful place. His lips twisted in a rueful smile as he thought of the Prophet. With his usual pleasant smile, he would sweep Mark’s page clean and dump another load upon it.

  When Mark reached the office, Joseph was there. He was sitting behind his desk, and Mark immediately recognized that this was the day for confrontation. Joseph’s suit for bankruptcy had been pushed aside fo
r the last time.

  After the polite words had passed between them, Mark took a deep breath and said, “The answer is no. Morally, for you to declare bankruptcy is wrong. If you insist on this line of action, you’ll need to find another attorney to represent you.”

  Joseph’s level gaze was unwavering. Mark was conscious of all the implications of his decision. What about Jenny’s spiritual groping? Would her wavering spirit be crushed by leaving Nauvoo with her questions still unanswered?

  Even as Mark realized he must push the hard questions at Joseph, he was aware of the risk he was taking. Excommunication. “Joseph, I feel I must warn you that there’s a great risk to be taken in following this course of declaring bankruptcy. Are you prepared to subject your personal life to legal scrutiny?”

  Joseph leaned back and grinned. “I see you’ve been listening to gossip.”

  “Is it gossip? I thought it common knowledge that you’ve begun teaching something the brethren are calling the spiritual wife doctrine. I—”

  Joseph’s chair thumped to the floor and with a scowl, he leaned toward Mark. “I’ve inquired of the Lord. Of course I knew the gossip. The Lord assures me that I have not committed adultery. Mark, judge not. If you are to remain in the good graces of the church, sooner or later you must receive this doctrine. The spirit tells me you are not sufficiently righteous to receive it now. Until that time, I suggest you join the Lodge and take up your religion.”

  “What are you referring to?”

  “I’ve been advised you display no interest in becoming acquainted with the endowments and, specifically, baptism for the dead.”

  “You know I don’t believe that way.”

  For a moment Mark was pierced by Joseph’s questioning look. Then the Prophet said, “Mark, I’m considering sending out another group of missionaries. It’s being made clear to me that I’m to gather money from all the people before the Nauvoo House can be completed.”

  Mark jumped to his feet, anger surging through him. Joseph’s message was very clear. As Mark opened his mouth, there came the clear picture of Jenny’s ravaged face and terror-filled eyes. Slowly he turned to pace the room.

  On his second trip back across the room, there was a tap on the door as it was shoved open. William Smith stood there, wearing a wide, lazy grin. “Gentleman wantin’ to see my esteemed brother, the Prophet. Better not keep him waiting; he looks important.”

  Joseph hurried out of the room and Mark slowly extended his hand. “Hello, William. I don’t believe I’ve had a chance to talk to you since Missouri days. Is your family well?”

  William nodded. There was a question in his eyes as he turned to survey the room. “I hear you’re Joseph’s lawyer. Didn’t know you were here. Sorry for exploding in.” A low grin moved across his face. “Keep hoping I’ll catch him teaching some lovelies the secrets of the kingdom.”

  Mark ignored the remark and said, “I understand you’ve been involved in mission work. What do you think about the climate out there? Are people being attracted to Joseph, or is it the promise of land and freedom?”

  William shrugged, still wearing his gleeful grin, and pushed on. “What do you think about the new doctrine?”

  Mark replied, “I know absolutely nothing about it.”

  For a moment he looked disappointed and the glee disappeared, leaving his face surprisingly thoughtful. “Hyrum was terribly against it in the beginning. Don Carlos told me before he died that Joseph had prophesied to Hyrum there would be a witness given to him about the rightness of the doctrine. Well, sure enough, he got it.” He paused to scratch his shaggy thatch of hair and pace the room.

  His face was now very sober, nearly frighteningly so, Mark saw with surprise. Fastening Mark with a steely gaze he said, “’Tis upsetting to say the least, but the Book of Mormon—”

  Joseph stepped through the door. He eyed William as the unfinished sentence hung in the silence. Glancing sharply from William to Mark, he said, with his voice cold and level, “And just what about the Book of Mormon, my dearly beloved brother? Just what had you in mind to say to Attorney Cartwright?”

  Astonished, Mark looked at William and saw the sober expression replaced with wicked glee. His lips were twisted in derision. Abruptly he laughed and turned toward the door.

  With a quick movement, Joseph was there. “Not so fast.” His hand grasped William’s shirt and twisted, pulling the big man closer. “William, you are not keeping your part of the bargain. I suggest you snug up your religion good and tight. You may need it more than you think you do.” With a thrust he propelled his brother out the door and slammed it behind him.

  Joseph was still trembling with anger as he turned around. Mark watched him take a careful breath, settle his collar, and move behind the desk. After another breath he said, “Just a little problem with Judge Adams. Mark, I’m afraid I’ll be involved the rest of the day.”

  Mark could see that Joseph was in control now. He also saw the curiosity in his eyes, a deeper expression Mark didn’t understand. Joseph spoke slowly, “I hope you didn’t get the wrong idea. I wasn’t thinking of sending you on a mission. I’m certain of your loyalty and I know you’d be willing, but I need you here.”

  Mark was on the street before he could identify that look in Joseph’s eyes. It was fear. As he walked toward the stable he muttered, “Just maybe there’s something to those rumors about William having something on Joseph. More than maybe, I’d say. Seems the words Book of Mormon has something to do with it.”

  Mark’s thoughts were full of the scripture he had read that morning. It had excited him with a mysterious promise. When he had read it aloud to Jenny, she had just looked puzzled. Now Mark murmured the words. “So they shall make their own tongue to fall upon themselves.”

  Chapter 10

  The spring morning was lovely enough of itself, Jenny thought, but another joy wound itself around her heart this late April day. She flicked the reins along the mare’s back and smiled to herself. It was Mark. For the past two weeks he had acted like a man who’d dropped his sack of potatoes.

  “God’s in his heaven, and it’s all right in the world,” Jenny happily misquoted to the blue sky and wild plum trees.

  A creaking, groaning wagon was approaching and she looked over her shoulder. “Morning, ma’am.” The white-haired farmer yanked on the reins as they drew abreast. The apple-cheeked woman beside him nodded brightly. “You be Mark Cartwright’s wife?”

  Jenny nodded. “Saints?”

  “No.” For just a moment the smile dimmed and then she added, “We met your husband a-goin’ into town when we’re on our way with the milk. Nice, friendly fella.” With another smile they were on their way, and Jenny realized they hadn’t introduced themselves.

  Snapping the reins across the horse’s back Jenny said, “Must be our Gentile neighbors across the ravine, the Daniels.” She rode on.

  The Pratt farm was just ahead. Jenny studied the log house tucked back in the curve of trees and felt her curiosity welling up again. Sarah Pratt had become the object of gossip for the past two Relief Society meetings. Strange things those women could find to pick over—talking about her and Dr. Bennett. Thinking of Sarah’s winsome face, her honest smile, Jenny shook her head and her curiosity grew.

  The lane leading to the Pratt home was coming up. Jenny compared the story of Sarah’s unhappy husband to her own cheerful Mark. They said he nearly committed suicide when he came back from his mission and heard the gossip.

  Abruptly giving way to impulse, Jenny tugged the reins and wheeled the buggy into Pratts’ lane. She had only a few troubled minutes to sort the things she might say to Sarah, and then she was at the house.

  Sarah was standing in the doorway and Jenny called. “Just passing this way. I wonder, would you like to go into Nauvoo for the Relief Society meeting with me?”

  Slowly Sarah came down to the buggy and lifted her face. Jenny saw the frown, the questions in the clear gray eyes and waited. “I heard there’s a bit
of talk. Would it help or hinder if I were to go? I understand Emma’s a mite sharp.”

  Jenny frowned. For a moment she was caught up in wondering why Emma was involved in the gossip. “Sharp? At times she seems so,” Jenny said slowly. “I was thinking not of the gossip, but of your husband. I know he’s better now, but remembering how unhappy my Mark has been, I wanted to encourage you.”

  Sarah’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “I’m sure it isn’t for the same reason.”

  “Reason?” Jenny frowned, beginning now to regret her hasty decision. She slanted a glance at the woman and saw her unexpected smile.

  “Yes, I would like to be out this day. I’ve felt house-bound. If you could come in while I dress the tyke and smooth my hair—”

  Jenny hopped from the buggy. “Wonderful!”

  Sarah’s little boy, Aaron, was nearly the same age as Sally’s Tamara. He carried his boots to Jenny as Sarah went to change her frock. Over the little fellow’s chatter, Jenny heard her horse nicker and Sarah said, “There’s someone. Please—while I finish dressing.”

  Jenny opened the door and with surprise said, “Why, Dr. Bennett!”

  He bent over her hand in a way that warmed Jenny’s cheeks, saying, “We’ve not been introduced, but I’m certain you are Mark Cartwright’s wife.”

  “And I know you only through—” she hesitated, and he grinned.

  Sarah came into the room, looking startled as she saw the visitor. “Why, Dr. Bennett, what brings you this way?”

  “I’ve a task out this way and I decided to check on my friend.” He turned to lift the child. Over little Aaron’s head he asked, “I haven’t seen Orson. Is it well with him?”

  Sarah paused only briefly. “Aye. But there’s so much inquiry this morning, I’m beginning to worry. Is there a new story afloat?”

  Dr. Bennett glanced at Jenny with surprise. “Oh, no,” Jenny said hastily; she took a deep breath and felt she had much to explain. “See, Mark’s been so . . .” They waited. “Well, not himself. Remembering what they said about Orson, I just felt . . .” The two faces were changing. Jenny saw Sarah’s stony expression and saw the lines crinkling across Dr. Bennett’s. He was amused!