Owen Family Saga Box Set: Books 1-3

by Ward, Marsha

  “That’s an astonishing thing, Brother Jeff,” James said.

  George got to his feet. “Astonishing? Unbelievable. I think I’ve heard about all I care to. Heppie is wife enough for me.”

  Brother Jeff rose as well and thanked George for listening. George made a face, tugged on his brother’s coat sleeve, and said, “Come along, Ned. I don’t reckon we’re cut out to be Mormon converts.”

  James saw confusion on Ned’s face as he got up. He agreed with his brother, though, and the two strode off toward their camp.

  When the three remaining men had taken their seats again, James said, “Let’s back up a tad bit. What you’re sayin’ is that God wants our marriages to last forever?”

  Brother Jeff nodded. “I do say that.”

  “And He gave your prophet the power to do that? ‘Seal,’ you said?” James noticed that Robert was leaning forward, intently taking in the conversation.

  “Yes,” Brother Jeff agreed.

  “And if that wasn’t done before a body dies, it can be done afterward?”

  “Yes.”

  “I could be a married man forever?” James paused, tugging on his beard, then smoothing it. “Could I take another wife besides, a live one?”

  “Since your first wife is dead, you wouldn’t need the prophet’s permission to marry again.”

  James rubbed his chest slowly, feeling the explosive pounding of his heart. “The things you tell me burn like a fire.”

  “That’s the Holy Ghost witnessin’ to you,” Brother Jeff said.

  “Do you reckon I can join your church?” James asked.

  Brother Jeff opened his mouth, but a voice in the darkness interrupted. “I’d like to join, have the baptizing,” Hannah took a step into the firelight. “Robert? Please?”

  Robert jumped up and went to her side. “Yes.” He looked at Brother Jeff. “I would like that, as well.”

  James and Brother Jeff were on their feet as Miss Becky and Jessie entered the circle of light.

  “I can arrange that,” Brother Jeff said. “I’ll find a place in the river, and we can baptize you tomorrow, after the funeral service.”

  “How much water do you need for that?” Jessie asked.

  Miss Becky put her hand on Jessie’s arm and said, “John the Baptist used the Jordan River for Our Lord’s baptism. He was immersed, totally covered. You might remember, the Holy Ghost came down like a dove, and then God Himself spoke.”

  “I’ve read that,” James said. “I’ll take the baptizin’.” He looked over at Jessie, uneasy that she was present when he had another question burning in his soul.

  The baby let out a cry, and Hannah began to rock him back and forth. “He’s hungry.” She gave a great sigh. “I look forward to tomorrow,” she said, smiling at Robert. “Good night, Miss Becky. Good night, Brother Jeff. Jessie, we’ll walk you back to camp.”

  Jessie looked from James to Hannah, uncertainty showing in her face.

  James thought, Does she want the baptizin’ too? I reckon Ned will tell her no if she asks his permission. That’s not my concern.

  She hesitated, finally walking away with Robert and Hannah. He turned back to Brother Jeff and his wife.

  “How do I get Amparo—that’s my wife, Amparo—sealed to me forever?”

  Brother Jeff said, “That takes a bit more work. You’ll have to go to Zion with us to see about that. I can scarcely wait to get there and have Becky and the kids sealed to me.”

  James’s head fell forward and his words trickled slowly from his lips. “I gave my word to take these folks to Albuquerque. Maybe after that …” He felt a constriction of his heart as hope diminished.

  “At least we can get you started with baptism, Brother James.” Brother Jeff took Miss Becky’s hand and nodded to James. “It’s not full dark yet. I’ll go find a fittin’ place in the river and maybe dam it up a bit.”

  ~~~

  Jessie looked back as she walked away. James stood beside the waning fire, talking to the leader of the Mormon group. His head was down in a dejected pose, and she stopped for a moment to watch him. Brother Jeff took his wife’s hand, gestured with his head, and left the fire. James ran his fingers through his hair, and Jessie ached to go to him, to comfort him, to hold him close to her heart. Remembering her promise to Ned, she balled her fists, turned away, and followed Hannah and Robert back to the wagons.

  Chapter 32

  After he left the fire with George, Ned checked the picket pin on his horse and spread his blankets near the Bingham’s wagon. He chatted a bit with Luke, and looked around for Jessie, but she wasn’t back from the Mormons’ camp yet. He shrugged his shoulders and sat on his blankets, preparing to bed down.

  Before he pulled off his boots, a thought struck him. James Owen hadn’t returned either. Had he enticed Jessie to listen to Julander’s outrageous claims? He had better go over and bring her to safety.

  Ned pushed himself to his feet and shrugged into his coat. He wouldn’t be surprised if it froze tonight. The Mormons would be hard-pressed tomorrow to dig a proper burial hole for that young girl who had died.

  Once Ned was past the Bingham’s fire, he walked in darkness. The stars glittered above, but the light they shed wasn’t much to navigate by. A couple of people, Robert and Hannah, from the sound of the voices, passed him at a distance, going the other way.

  Ned moved up to the fire where he’d sat with the men, talking to Julander. It smoldered by itself. Julander was gone. Owen was gone. Jessie wasn’t there.

  He stopped, unsure what to do next. Maybe Jessie had slipped past him in the darkness and was safely out of harm’s way. He felt a bit foolish, chasing her all over the landscape like this, but he’d always been her protector, and he wasn’t about to stop that now. Especially with Owen in the picture.

  Maybe I’m making a mountain out of a molehill, he thought. Owen’s got that dead wife he’s moping after. If he wants to join the Mormons and go with them, it’s all the better for me.

  A figure came toward the fire, carrying a bucket that sloshed water over the sides. It was the girl he had met in the food line. Ned felt his body tightening, but tried to ignore it as he hurried to help her with the bucket.

  “Here now, let me carry that for you,” he said, stretching out his hand to take the handle.

  The girl smiled in the waning light. “I ain’t goin’ no further,” she said in a melodious voice that cut deep into Ned’s soul. “I come to put the fire down.”

  “I can take care of that,” he said, reaching out and taking the bucket from her slender hands. She stood still and surrendered it, and when their fingers touched, Ned felt as though he’d been lightning-struck. The girl was so close that when he inhaled, her scent filled his nostrils. He noted that she smelled of wood smoke and violets. Violets? Here in the winter wilderness of New Mexico Territory?

  “I’m Ned Heizer,” he said, listening to his voice rise up the scale into a boyish octave. What on earth was happening to him? Why didn’t he step back out of her way and let her get about her business?

  Ned figured the moon slipped up the horizon behind him, because the girl’s face gradually glowed with a soft light.

  “My name is Maggie,” she said, taking air in a fetching manner that raised and lowered her shoulders and chest. “Maggie Julander.”

  Ned swallowed. This beautiful girl was Jeffrey Julander’s daughter, and all that separated them was a bucket of water. He stepped sideways to get a bit of distance, put the pail down, took her hand, and said, “I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Maggie.” He was also very pleased that his voice stayed in a normal register this time.

  “Mister Heizer,” she acknowledged, giving his hand a tiny squeeze before she let it go.

  Everything about Miss Maggie’s comportment was pure innocence, but there was a heady undertone of bewitching backwoods humor, a quirk to her mouth that told him she liked to laugh, to take joy in life.

  Joy in life. That’s something I�
��ve been missing of late. The admission scared him, made him feel disloyal and a bit out of sorts. Digging into the mass of his fears, he discovered that the thing jolting him the most was that he truly had been missing joy in his life. He should be over the moon with happiness. Not so long ago, Jessie had finally said she would marry him. He’d agreed to her condition of waiting, but even the prospect of having to damp down his desire to be her husband hadn’t dismayed him.

  Or maybe it had.

  Whatever was going on in his courtship, it didn’t seem to matter right now. Miss Maggie’s very presence expanded his senses and made him feel glad to be alive.

  Ned shook himself mentally. Staring at Miss Maggie wouldn’t finish her chore.

  He bent and picked up the water bucket, smiling at the girl. He couldn’t stop smiling at her. He circled the fire, pouring water onto the margins, then into the heart of the blackened coals. Wisps of steam arose, and his nose sampled the odor of ashes.

  “Did I do that right?” he asked, handing the bucket back to Maggie.

  “I reckon that took care of the job,” she answered. “I’m obliged, Mr. Heizer.”

  Ned realized that he hadn’t let go of the bucket when Maggie put out her hand to take it back. Their fingers both curled around the wire bail, side by side, their thumbs touching. Her skin was cool, but his hand felt like fire. He stopped breathing.

  When he straightened his fingers at last to release the thick, curved wire, the empty bucket swung down to hang in Maggie’s hand at her side, rocking back and forth so slowly that it seemed as though time had been altered by his suspended breath.

  The moon bathed Maggie’s face in white light. She was smiling. Ned knew he was smiling. Pixie lights danced before his eyes until he become conscious that he was in danger of passing out. He took a long, gasping breath, nearly strangling with the desire to touch her again. He must not do that. The moment had passed. All that was left was to wrench himself away, back to his camp, and let her go about her nightly routine.

  “Miss Maggie,” he said in a shaky voice. “Good night to you.”

  “And to you, Mr. Heizer,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

  Maggie turned away, slipping off like a phantom and breaking the spell that had kept Ned rooted to one spot. His jaw felt slack, his legs rubbery. He’d never before experienced the lightness, the elation that permeated his very skin. He wondered how he was going to survive until he saw Miss Maggie again.

  ~~~

  Hannah put the baby to bed, touching the tiny widow’s peak with a kiss. She turned to Robert. “I’m going to have my sins washed away,” she said, breathless at the wonder of it.

  “Sins, my love? I find no sins in you.” Robert stretched his length in the quilts, holding out his hand to help Hannah down beside him.

  “I have a great many. That man, killing him. Not wanting the baby. Turning you away from my affections.” She ticked them off on her fingers.

  Robert took her hand and kissed each finger she had touched. She quaked with joy, but lest he misunderstand her quivers for fright, she turned her head and kissed him on the mouth.

  “I shall be clean,” she murmured against his lips. “Jesus will wash me in his blood.”

  “And I—”

  “You have no faults, Robert.”

  “I warrant I can conjure a good many.”

  “No you can’t,” she said, kissing his neck, listening to his sudden intake of breath. “Isn’t lust a sin?” She giggled.

  “Not in the marriage bed,” Robert whispered, and tickled her until she laughed out loud.

  “You’ll wake the baby,” she gasped.

  “That would be a sin. Good thing it will be washed away tomorrow.”

  Chapter 33

  James awoke to a faint rhythmic thump that he later found out was several of the Mormon men swinging pickaxes to dig Miss Laurie Sue’s grave. He sat, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and got to his feet. Grabbing his boots, he tipped them upside down, shook them to remove any nighttime visitors, and put them on. He rolled his bed into a tight bundle and tied it onto the mule’s pack that sat beside his saddle.

  He gathered the rest of his gear and packed it up. Then he remembered. The Bingham company wasn’t traveling anywhere today. After the Mormons held a funeral service for Miss Laurie Sue, he, James Owen, was fixing to walk down into a pool of cold river water and wash off his sins. It was a first step toward making Amparo his wife forever—no matter how long it might take to have it done.

  He realized that for the first time in several weeks, he wasn’t experiencing the never-ending grief he’d been carrying like a sack full of rocks tied around his heart, the grief about Amparo’s not being with him. He figured it still would hurt later, but right now, thinking on his baptism, his heart jumped in his chest, free of restricting pain.

  James took a deep breath and let it out slowly in a white plume. His lungs tightened around another breath of the crisp, cold air. Last night, he’d made this decision a matter of prayer. He had a comforting feeling in his chest about his choice to join the Mormon faith. If only Amparo were here—he knew she would receive the preaching about marrying forever with joy and acceptance. Para siempre. She was big on the notion of forever.

  The Bingham women pooled their supplies with the Mormon ladies that morning, and breakfast consisted of boiled salt pork, beaten biscuits, and milk gravy. James got in line for the food behind Brother Jeff. He heard the man ask that four biscuits be tied up in a cloth, and when Jessie handed him the bundle, he put it in his coat pocket.

  Jessie glanced up at James and put three biscuits on his plate, but she didn’t say anything to him. He wondered again if she had the urge to become a Mormon. It’d seemed like she wanted to say something last night before Hannah whisked her away.

  James looked at her a moment, wishing Ned Heizer had stayed in the north after the war. That might have uncomplicated things a tad bit. He asked, “Will you be at the baptizin’ service?”

  Jessie’s eyes darted from side to side. She straightened her shoulders and put on a smile. “I wouldn’t miss seeing you lose your sins for all the world,” she said. Her light tone seemed forced. As he moved down the line to get his gravy, he wondered why it mattered to him if she would be there or not. How could he yearn for Amparo one moment and the very next be concerned about Jessie’s whereabouts? Life is complex, he thought, and stuffed a biscuit into his mouth.

  ~~~

  After breakfast, James joined the parade of people carrying seats to the spot where the Mormons had dug a grave off the side of the road. As he settled himself on his saddle, four men brought Laurie Sue’s body, which had been sewn into a shroud made of canvas, to the front of the gathering. He got to his feet in respect for the dead as the men laid their burden beside the grave, and he sat down as they took places in the congregation beside their wives.

  Jeffrey Julander went to the front, turned to face the crowd, and directed the Mormons to sing an old familiar hymn, “Rock of Ages.” A woman in the audience gave a pitch, the Mormons began to sing, and the members of the Bingham party joined in. A hush fell on the group as Brother Jeff called on one of the men to offer a prayer.

  The man arose and took off his hat. The other men followed suit, and as the Mormon got deep into his prayer, he spoke of being grateful for their trials along the trail and of their faith in a loving Savior. He asked for comfort for the family who had lost their kin, and peace for the hearts of all assembled there. He ended the prayer and sat down. The congregation followed suit.

  Brother Jeff took charge again. He breathed slowly for a moment, and James wondered what he was waiting for. At last he said, “We’re gathered to mourn the sudden passing of our sister in Christ, Laurie Sue Purdy. She may not have made it to Zion, but now she’s in Paradise, greeted by Our Lord, Jesus Christ.

  “We are left to wonder why she was taken and to do our duty as Saints to comfort each other, particularly Sister Eliza, who is mighty heartsick.�
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  Brother Jeff took a slim book from his pocket and opened it to a part that he’d marked with a scrap of paper.

  “Thus saith the Lord about the last days,” he said, and began to read from the book. “‘Mine indignation is soon to be poured out without measure upon all nations; and this will I do when the cup of their iniquity is full. And in that day all who are found upon the watch-tower, or in other words, all mine Israel, shall be saved. And they that have been scattered shall be gathered.’” Brother Jeff looked over at Laurie Sue’s shroud for a minute, then resumed reading. “‘And all they who have mourned shall be comforted. And all they who have given their lives for my name shall be crowned. Therefore, let your hearts be comforted concerning Zion; for all flesh is in mine hands; be still and know that I am God.’

  “Brethren and Sisters, in this passage the Lord God of Israel declared that the day will come when all who mourn will be comforted, in that day when he gathers us in. We look forward to that blessed event.” He closed the book over the scrap of paper, put it into his pocket, and spoke again. “The prophet Alma proclaimed that we as members of God’s kingdom have a deep feeling and a sacred duty to comfort each other in our times of grief. He was speaking to the people at the waters of Mormon, urgin’ them to take heed of their christlike feelings of love and concern and to be baptized and become His Church.”

  Brother Jeff put his hand into another pocket and drew it out empty. He frowned, patting all his other pockets. Whatever he sought wasn’t to be found, and Brother Jeff walked over to Miss Becky and asked, “Do you have your Book of Mormon?”

  “Oh,” she exclaimed. “I don’t have it. I gave it to Mrs. Fletcher.” She turned in her seat and asked Hannah, “Did you happen to bring that little book to the meeting?”

  Hannah blushed, but nodded, took the Book of Mormon from her pocket, and handed it to Miss Becky.

  “I’ll give it back to you,” Miss Becky whispered, and delivered the volume to her husband.