Morning Star (19 page)

The lost words were before her. “That's it. The name of Jesus. In the name of Jesus I was baptized.” She raised her delighted smile to Adela. “I was—” The red figure seemed to be retreating, dimming.

Jenny hurried forward, across the rocks, up the slope. Now sunlight slanted through the trees and she stopped. The light clearly outlined the scene before her. The red chiffon still swirled, the woman still smiled. Jenny blinked and passed her hands across her eyes.

The dress was the same, but those perfect features were sagging, twisting. Before her eyes, Adela became a wizened figure, fading, disappearing. Stunned, Jenny whispered, “Jesus.”

Then she was brought back to herself by a clap of thunder. In terror she listened to it growing, exploding, then rumbling away. While the air was still filled with the sharp odor of sulphur, the rain burst upon Jenny, and she ran.

In the days that followed, Jenny doubted the vision her memory periodically cast before her, but she didn't forget running into the house, panting and crying. She also recalled groping through the storm-dimmed room until she found her Bible. And in the days that followed, she didn't forget the comfort she felt simply from holding the Book.

Chapter 18

Over the dishpan Jenny murmured, “‘Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me.'” She lifted the cups and watched the soap bubbles burst and disappear. “Adela said there were many ways to worship God. Why did she disappear like these bubbles?” The truth was clear, and Jenny could only whisper in awe, “Jesus.”

Very sober as she continued to wash dishes, Jenny pieced together in her mind all that she had refused to consider before. Did it matter that Adela was a familiar spirit? With a sigh Jenny said, “Yes, it does matter. I thought she was a friend. She was everything I admired—beautiful and strong.”

Jenny's mind nudged her with another fact. Adela had power, and if she were a spirit instead of a real person, this meant the promise of power for herself was a lie—or was it? Could there be something she didn't understand?

Jenny moved uneasily and stared out the window. Was power to order life beyond the scope of human beings? Immediately Jenny remembered the pressure Adela had used to get her to take the vows at sabbat. That oath, the blood in the chalice—even now they made her shiver. But there was another thought. Jenny whispered it to herself, her voice filled with awe. “I simply said the name of Jesus. I wasn't even thinking of Adela—my head was full of baptism and purple light. I said ‘Jesus,' and Adela disappeared.” Abruptly Jenny was trembling.

As soon as the kitchen was tidied, Jenny fled to the only comforting presence in the house, her Bible.

She read the Gospels, feeling as if she were looking over Jesus' shoulder. With awe she watched and listened, as thirsty as the woman at the well.

Daily Jenny flew about her work and then settled to read, conscious only of her desperate need. But the reading was not without pain. There were hard words which caused days of uneasiness and questioning:
sin, the wrath of God, judgment; believe, trust, the blood of Jesus
.

In her silent house she brooded in isolation and then fled, desperate for companionship. One hot August day she took her light buggy to Sarah Pratt's home.

As she let the mare amble down Sarah's shady lane, Jenny was thinking the trees looked as limp as she felt. But then she had a reason. She grinned and flicked the reins.

Instead of taking the mare to the house, Jenny stopped the buggy in the shade of a tree and left the horse to graze. Just as Jenny reached the front door, she heard Sarah's voice coming from the shady side yard and circled around the house.

Hearing a strange voice, she hesitated momentarily. Then, with a shrug she stepped forward just as the woman laughed and said, “Sarah, such outrage! Why do you make a fuss about a little gossip. Even if it isn't true, people will speculate. Besides, you should consider it an honor. Why, I've been his mistress for four years now.”

Jenny gasped and as the women turned, said, “Oh, I . . . I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sneak up on you.”

The stranger threw back her head and laughed. “Don't look so appalled. I'm not.”

Looking surprisingly relieved, Sarah hurried toward Jenny. Taking Jenny's hand she said, “Do come sit in the shade. This is Lucinda Harris.”

While Jenny frowned, wondering why the face was familiar, Lucinda drawled, “Yes, I was in Far West while you were there. Seems we didn't have time to get acquainted. I suppose I knew most everyone because we were part of the early settlement. Your husband is the attorney. Didn't I hear that Joseph sent him to Washington to present another bill?” She turned to Sarah. “Do you suppose that's where Joseph's gone?”

Sarah shrugged and addressed Jenny. “I suppose you've heard the latest news, though it's been so long since I've seen you.”

Jenny muttered, “I haven't heard any news for ages. I've not even had a letter from Mark.”

“Oh,” Sarah added quickly. “Then you don't know that Joseph's disappeared. Don't look so alarmed! It's that Boggs affair.”

“If only he'd kept his mouth shut,” Lucinda said. “Coming out with his prophecy about Boggs being shot and then broadcasting his views hither and yonder when it did happen.”

“I'd heard about that,” Jenny replied.

“Well,” Sarah continued, “as you know, Boggs didn't die. Now Governor Carlin's issued a writ for Joseph's and Porter Rockwell's arrest.”

Lucinda's smooth voice cut in. “The Nauvoo Charter came to the rescue again. They were released under a writ of habeas corpus and the city council stepped in and issued a new ordinance which required Nauvoo court to inquire into the validity of the writ.”

Sarah said, “Well, I know the charter was designed to help Joseph's cause, that's obvious, considering the trouble in Missouri. Somehow it doesn't seem quite right. But by the time the sheriffs returned from seeing Carlin a second time, Joseph and Porter were both gone.”

Jenny lost the thread of conversation; her mind was busy with the implications. She breathed a deep sigh of relief. Perhaps by the time the legal problems simmered down, Joseph would have forgotten all about that piece of paper in his office.

Jenny soon found an excuse to leave Sarah and her friend. She turned her rig onto the road and headed for Nauvoo, still hoping for a letter from Mark.

The afternoon Tom rode his horse back into Nauvoo, he was conscious only of being tired with the bone-weariness of discouragement and physical fatigue. He was so busy planning his speech to Joseph that he scarcely noticed the first hint of autumn this September day.

He was still mulling over his dilemma when he reached Joseph's Mansion House. Although it was still early afternoon, a peculiar crystal stillness held the deserted streets. The thread of smoke rising from the mansion's chimney was slender and wick-straight.

Now he noticed the horse hitched to Joseph's fence post. Slowly Tom dismounted and looped his reins around the post nearest a succulent patch of grass.

Pausing to scratch his head and flex his shoulders, Tom took time to notice the clear blue of the sky. A white cloud puffed across his vision like a ship under full sail.

Tom turned toward Joseph's front door just as it burst open. He recognized the Prophet's heavy voice as the two figures came through the door.

To Tom's astonishment, the first figure was hurrying and the second figure was kicking. Tom scratched his head while he waited until the rotund figure picked himself up out of the street, dusted off his suit, straightened his tie, and mounted his horse.

Joseph's face was flushed and he was still breathing heavily as he stepped close to Tom. He jerked his head at the departing figure. “Justin Butterfield, United States Attorney for Illinois. Came in here accusing me of misbehaving.”

“How's that?”

“Bankruptcy petition. Says I transferred property illegally. Guess he won't do that again.” Joseph was at ease as he led the way into the house. “State's in a hole financially, so they're going to take every advantage of a fellow they can to save a cent. What's on your mind? What are you doing back in Nauvoo?”

Tom gulped and cringed. That scene was too sharply etched on his mind. Feeling like a ten-year-old, he started his explanation. “Joseph, I'm just not cut out to be a missionary. Figured I was doin' more harm than good so I settled for comin' home. I was dragging the rest of the fellas down, honest.” He braced himself and, surprisingly, Joseph only shook his head.

“I guess I wasn't much of a judge of character, Tom,” he said. “You can do everything else, including putting out the best shoeing job in the state. Go back to the stable. I guess I might as well admit, we've been missing you sore.

“So's my horse. Take a look at him first thing in the morning, will you? It's the right front shoe.”

Tom sighed with relief and started to get up. Joseph's hand stopped him. Tom settled back and was surprised to see the dark frown back on his face.

“Tom, I don't know how to tell you this. But Mark's gone and you're closest of kin. There's some talk that Jenny's been pretty unhappy. Alson Daniels and his pa fished her outta the river a couple of weeks back. When Alson came into town with the milk, he told me about it. Says she jumped off the bluff, clearly intent on ending it all.”

Tom stared at Joseph, trying to put meaning into the words. “My sister? Jen's not the kind a person to do herself in.”

Joseph shook his head and leaned forward. “Unfortunately, I've not had time to visit with her. It turned out that Porter and I had to take a little trip to avoid Missouri sheriffs with writs for our arrest. I didn't want the task of trying Nauvoo's charters in court right now, especially since I was being laid on the line.”

Joseph settled back in his chair and studied his fists. When he spoke again, Tom thought it was as if the words were pulled from him. “Tom, from what I've heard, I'm really worried about your sister's mind. Sometimes women get all kinds of funny ideas. The suicide try indicates that to me.

“I realize you don't know much about females, being you're not married, but watch out for her. Let me know if there's anything I can do to help. I'll try to see her as soon as the pressure is off my neck.”

Tom had started for the door when Joseph said, “One thing more, Tom. Since you're not hankering to be a missionary, I'll put the touch on you for the priesthood.”

Tom was nearly to the farm before he was able to shake his mood. He straightened in the saddle and looked around. The Pratt farm was off to his left, and he could see Orson herding his cows into the barn. The apple trees were beginning to show color. He noticed that Orson had propped up the heaviest branches.

By the time he started down Jenny's lane, Tom was whistling. He saw Jenny turn and set her pail down. When he swung her up in his arms, he saw the tears on her face. “Jen, it's just your old brother.”

“I'm just so glad to see you; it's been so lonely!”

He hugged her again and said, “Hey, you're treating yourself well—gettin' chunky, aren't ya?”

She leaned back grinning at him. “I'm going to have a baby.”

“Well, I'll be switched,” he said slowly, studying her face. Even as he spoke, he was putting facts together, “I'd about given up on hopin' you'd ever get around to that. What does Mark think about all this?”

He saw the cloud on her face. “He doesn't know. Tom, I haven't had one letter from him since he's left. Can he possibly be that busy? Why must he be gone so long?”

“I don't know,” Tom said, troubled by what he was seeing. He was thinking of the way he had sloped out of a disagreeable job as he said, “I'm kinda wonderin' why Mark doesn't jump ship like I did.”

“Does Joseph know you're back?”

“Yeah.” Tom remembered the conversation as he searched Jenny's face. She looked pale and tired, but there was that happy smile. Surely, if circumstances were as he was thinking, she wouldn't be so happy about it.

Tom sighed and took up his conversation again. “He's lettin' me off easy. I expected to get sent to China, but he's sending me back to the stable. Might be he's had a report on my preachin'.”

The next morning at breakfast Tom said, “One thing Joseph did do which surprised me; he's earmarked me for the high priesthood.”

Jenny nearly dropped the skillet. Astonishment flooded her face as she turned to him. “That's nice, but it sure surprises me too. Seems such a limited group from what I'm hearing; guess I just didn't realize how special you were to Joseph.” She hesitated and frowned. “Tom, there's lots of funny talk going on. Don't get yourself into something you'll regret.”

“How's that?” he asked, chewing slowly.

She sighed and frowned, saying, “There's talk of building up the Legion more. Is it true Joseph's not given up on Missouri yet?” After a pause she turned to him and shrugged, shaking her head, “Oh, I just don't know; this Legion business worries me. I know there's rumbles around about it. I heard a fellow on the street. A stranger. He seemed uneasy. Just things floating around making us wonder. At Relief Society we talk.”

“Gossip session?”

“I—I just don't know. One minute I get the feeling the women are all the best of friends; then next meeting I see the tides moving, telling me there's something going on underneath all the nice smiles. There's an undercurrent in Nauvoo I don't like.”

Chapter 19

Jenny was pulling the curtains across the windows when Tom came into the house carrying the pail of milk. “'Tis a mite nippy out there tonight; reminds me this nice October is about to bid us good-bye.”