Goodbye, Nauvoo Read online

  “There is a little steamboat cruise for the Fourth of July,” Worthy told Lydia one Sunday evening. “There will be a feast and orators and dancing. Perhaps you would like to join me? I have two tickets. I’ve already gotten permission from your uncle to take you.” He pulled from his breast pocket two slips of paper, handing one to Lydia.

  Lydia gulped. She had never been on a boat before and frankly had no desire to. Her fear of water kept her safely away from anything that traveled on the Mississippi. But as she stared into Worthy’s eager eyes, it seemed as if all her worries melted away. She took the ticket and stared down at the ornately designed paper with a steamboat pictured in the middle. “Nauvoo Bell Boarding Pass,” she read.

  “So? What do you think?”

  “I…” Lydia’s gaze traveled from the ticket to Worthy and back again as she tried to make up her mind. “I would love to go with you, Worthy.”

  ✽✽✽

  Lydia didn’t know whether or not she regretted accepting that ticket to the steamboat cruise with Worthy. She wished she had told Worthy about her fear of the water, but he had already bought the tickets. She also wanted desperately to see him again, so she held her tongue.

  Lydia had originally planned on going to a Fourth of July Party Martha was holding at her home. Lydia had helped Lucy bake a cake that morning and decorate it for the occasion. It was tempting to stay and feast on the fruits of her labor, but Lucy insisted she accept Worthy’s invitation.

  “You’ll be plenty safe on a steamboat. Just don’t get too close to the edge of the boat and you won’t fall into the water,” Lucy said reassuringly. “You go and enjoy the cruise for me, will you?”

  So on the Fourth of July, Lydia went with Worthy to the Nauvoo docks, apprehensive and fearful about being on the water, but excited to see Worthy again. He led her down to a long and narrow boardwalk where three large steamers and a dozen fishing boats were tied up.

  Lydia stared out at the raging water in front of her and gulped. Why had she let Worthy persuade her into coming down to the docks? She stayed far away from large bodies of water as much as possible. And there was something frightening about the vastness of the Mississippi River. Something dangerous and surreal. Lydia wanted nothing to do with it. The river was beautiful at a distance, but up close, the swirling ripples of water that disappeared down into dark, murky depths was too much for her.

  “Well? What do you think?” Worthy asked proudly, standing jubilantly with his hands on his hips as he looked out at the water.

  “It's busy,” Lydia replied, stepping aside as people passed to board the steamers, some carrying baggage, others with nothing but a ticket.

  “No, the ship. There she is,” Worthy said, pointing out a wooden vessel that bobbed gently on the waves at the end of the dock.

  It was a small white steamboat with two tall smokestacks in front exhaling purple smoke. Behind the stacks extended three rows of decks, stacked like an oversized cake with a pilot house perched on top. Lydia had seen steamboats like this sailing down the Mississippi each day in a constant stream, but she never had a reason to go on one.

  “Beautiful, ain’t she? Shall we board?” Worthy asked, then started down the boardwalk ahead of her.

  Lydia took one step onto the boardwalk before she decided she would go no further.

  “Is it safe?” Lydia asked, feeling the water shake the boardwalk and thinking of the fate of the John Shaw and Illinois, steamboats that both sunk after hitting submerged rocks near Nauvoo.

  “Of course!” Worthy said dismissively. “You’re probably safer on this steamboat than you were in that little cabin of yours. Are you coming or not?”

  Lydia took a deep breath and followed Worthy onboard, handing her ticket to an attendant who was dressed in a stately looking uniform and long sideburns. They entered into the grand saloon, which was humbly furnished with plush, velvet seating that lined the walls. Red, white, and blue celebratory bunting hung about the room. Although the interior was nothing fancy, to Lydia, it was spectacular. She was so used to her bare bones cabin and Lucy’s home with it's austere newspaper wallpaper.

  “Fancy, ain’t it?” Worthy said as he stared up and all around inside the steamboat.

  “It is. It's been a long time since I’ve seen anything so nice,” Lydia admitted. Feeling the bobbing motion of the boat, her stomach churned and she fell herself into a chair nearby.

  “I’m sorry,” Lydia explained. “It's just... I should never have boarded this boat. I’m sorry that you wasted your ticket on me. I don’t think you’ll ever get me out of this chair.”

  Worthy laughed as he sat himself next to Lydia. Hoards of people streamed by him and filled the room around them. “You just haven’t gotten your sea legs yet. Don’t worry, you’ll get them in time.”

  “Have you been on a steamboat before? They don’t have them where I’m from.”

  “Of course! Lots of times.”

  Lydia look flabbergasted. “You have!” she cried. “How could you afford it?”

  “Have you ever heard of the Maid of Iowa?” Worthy asked. When Lydia shook her head, he continued. “It was a beautiful little vessel, just like this one. The captain was a Welshman by the name of Dan Jones. Him and his wife ran it. Debatably his wife was the captain of the ship.” Worthy chuckled. “Anyway, the Church bought the boat and they used it for moving missionaries and immigrants, as well as for excursions such as this. Unfortunately, they sold the Maid last month. She’s on her way up to Wisconsin the last I heard.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  “Yes. Thus begins the dismantling of our town,” Worthy said bitterly.

  The boat began to move away from the dock, and Lydia held tight to her chair as a wave of nausea hit her once again.

  “Are you alright?” Worthy asked looking concerned.

  “Yes, I think so. Would it seem strange if I said I was afraid of the water?”

  “The water? How can you be afraid of the water? The water is harmless. It's the anti-Mormons you have to be worried about. If they get word there are Mormons on this steamer, they might try to run us down. It’s happened before on the Maid. Of course, Dan Jones never let such a thing happen. One-time Jones threatened to shoot the pilot of a boat that was advancing toward them.”

  “Oh, dear!”

  “Really, you are quite safe here,” Worthy declared. “There is nothing to fear. I’ll protect you.” And with that, he took her hand.

  Lydia looked down at Worthy’s callused hand in her own, the sensation happily familiar and yet at the time, unwanted. She pulled away, folding her hands carefully in her lap.

  “Forgive me if I have done something wrong,” Worthy said.

  Lydia shook her head, hoping that he would not press her for an explanation. Changing the subject, she gave him a gentle smile and said, “It was very kind of you to buy a ticket for me. Thank you. I don’t mean to seem ungrateful.”

  “No harm done,” he replied coolly. “I’m glad you could come with me. It's been awhile since I’ve been on a steamer. Me and my...” he cut off, his voice choking, then shook his head. “Never mind. I used to bring my father on these things. But he hated coming sometimes.”

  “Why is that?”

  “If you asked him, he would have told you he was too old for excursions like this. But I know the real reason: the orators. They aren’t all bad, but lengthy. You’ll see. It's not his cup of tea, nor is it mine, but the view and the food make it worth it.” Worthy rose. “In fact, are you as hungry as I am?”

  He pointed over his shoulder toward the back of the room, where a doorway opened into a spacious dining room. A delicious, meaty smell beckoned to Lydia and her mouth watered. She had forgotten how hungry she was.

  Worthy led Lydia over to the dining room, where a feast was laid out on lace covered tables. Lydia touched the delicate fabric as if it were a prized artifact. Her mother owned a tablecloth like it, but it was only brought out for special occasions. Lydia wondered wh
o would inherit it when Mother died. Lydia had wanted it, and she would have been the first in line to receive it, too if she had stayed in Canada.

  Lydia eyed the scrumptious looking hors d'oeuvres presented on polished platters.

  “They aren’t set on the table just to look pretty,” Worthy said as he handed her a plate. “Here, take what you want.”

  “It doesn’t cost anything extra?”

  “No, it's been paid for with your ticket.”

  Lydia felt shocked, spoiled, and delighted all at the same time. It seemed too good to be true that all this food had been prepared for her to enjoy, and she didn’t have to do any work to prepare it, nor would she be expected to clean up after herself. In no time she piled her plate high in whatever colorful food she could find. There was roasted lamb, turkey, pork, as well as tarts, cakes, and all manner of neatly arranged vegetables.

  The sun set on the countryside as they feasted and watched the land go slowly by. They listened quietly as a brass band played tunes to celebrate the Fourth of July. Once their plates were cleared, the band ceased and an orator stood up in the center of the room. He spoke passionately on the “heaven blessed creation of the United States,” to which men and women cheered. Lydia sat politely as she listened, feeling it ironic that the freedoms she was promised came with many conditions and a high cost. She turned her gaze to Worthy, who she found staring back at her. He gave her a little yawn, and Lydia laughed, recalling what Worthy told her about his father’s distaste of orators.

  At the conclusion of the speech, the band started up again and the doors leading outside were thrust open. Lydia watched as couples beaming in jubilation flowed into the grand saloon and onto the outside deck, some dancing as they went.

  “It is a beautifully clear night, tonight.” Worthy declared. “Would you like to go outside?” He held out his hand to her. Lydia looked out the doors of the dining room and caught a glimpse of the Mississippi flowing behind them. The moonlight was serenading the river’s waves in silky streams of white. Whatever danger the river held, it's beauty made up for it.

  With a nervous smile, Lydia took Worthy’s hand and followed him out into the soft moonlight. The strain of the band echoed out onto the deck and mingled with the sound of the churning water.

  “To think, this will most likely be our last Fourth of July in Nauvoo,” Worthy said sadly as he looked out into the river’s expanse, toward where the bluffs of Nauvoo rose up in the distance. “I can’t imagine where we may go that could equal the beauty and convenience of our little city.”

  A cannon boomed from somewhere on the ship, followed by cheering, and Lydia jumped.

  “It's alright,” Worthy cooed. “Haven’t you ever heard a canon before?”

  “Of course I have! Just not from so close.” Lydia’s heart raced inside her and her legs felt wobbly, so she grabbed onto Worthy’s arm to steady herself. “Whenever I hear cannons I think of mobbers now.” Lydia sighed. “I will be happy to be free of them when we move from Nauvoo one day. I worry they’ll follow us. Wherever we go.”

  “Of course there’ll always be mobbers. We had them in Missouri. We have them here. That’s how I know we’re in the true church. Satan’s trying mighty hard to break our faith apart and chase us out of Nauvoo. But that’s all a part of the plan, is it not? Opposition in all things.”

  Heavenly Father’s plan of happiness. It had seemed to Lydia like happiness was dangled like bait before her, never to be reached, taken away when she did find it. But meeting Worthy was a blessing. She met him at a time when she needed companionship the most, the answer to her deepest worries and her strongest sorrows. And because she knew the sorrow of losing Danny, Lydia had much greater joy in meeting Worthy.

  “I guess you’re right,” Lydia said gently, staring out at the water. “It's like this river. It is in constant opposition: there is both beauty and danger here.” She courageously gazed up at Worthy. “At first I was afraid to come out on the water with you, but I’m glad I did. Perhaps it is like the mobbers: we should enjoy our remaining time in Nauvoo while we can and not think about the dangers here, just like I’m enjoying the water now with you.”

  Worthy was silent, his gaze turned toward river. In the dark, the water was a sea of stars. The moon’s reflection smiled up at the couple, but the steamboat plowed forward, twisting the moon into misshapen white streaks in the waves.

  Finally, Worthy spoke, his voice quiet and slow. “You wouldn’t need to worry about the dangers in Nauvoo if you married me.” He cupped Lydia’s hand in his own and brought it to his lips.

  Lydia stood dumbstruck with her mouth gaping and pulled her hand away from his. “Marry you?” she asked, not to question him, but to repeat the idea aloud.

  “I’d protect you. A man just isn’t complete without a woman, and a woman isn’t complete without a man. We need each other, Lydia. The more time I spend with you, the more I realize that.”

  “It's so soon,” Lydia murmured, feeling lightheaded. Danny had only been gone for five months.

  “I know, but the time to leave Nauvoo is soon approaching. I can sense the hostility in the air. The church is liquidating its property here. The time must be getting close to leave. I’m afraid if we wait there won’t be another time to get married.” Worthy turned again to the water, his shoulders hunched. He hit his fist against the steamboat railing.

  “I can’t think of it,” Lydia said, shaking her head. “I’m sorry.”

  Lydia was quiet as she looked out from the boat. She listened to the gentle roar of the water as it was turned by the steamboat’s massive paddle wheel and watched the waves as they hit against the boat’s hull.

  Worthy straightened up and turned to Lydia again. “I could take you to the temple and we could get sealed for eternity there,” he said. He stared deep into Lydia’s eyes. “Isn’t that what you want?”

  The question surprised Lydia. Is that what I want? she asked herself. She always imagined herself getting sealed to Danny. And now, she was standing here, talking about getting sealed to a man who was not Danny. In her heart, she wasn’t appalled by the idea. She and Worthy were inches away, so close that Lydia could feel his hot breath on her cheeks. She could almost stand on her tiptoes and kiss Worthy square on the lips. Instead, she stepped backward and put her hand on his and said, “Let me have time to think about it. To finish grieving.”

  “How long will that take?”

  Lydia thought for a moment, then knew her answer. “Until the temple is completed and we can get our endowments together.”

  Worthy frowned. “If that’s what it takes.”

  “You would wait that long? It may never be completed.”

  “For you, yes.”

  Relieved and flattered, Lydia smiled.

  “Come, shall we dance?” Worthy said, offering his hand.

  “I would be delighted,” Lydia replied as she allowed Worthy to lead her to where the other couples were dancing under the stars.

  Chapter 16

  The Party

  Martha breathed in the heavenly scent of fresh apple pie baking in her oven. It was Independence Day, and there was to be a feast with Martha and Samuel’s family combined. Martha slaved away in the kitchen all that morning, stewing apples and cleaning the house to get ready for family to arrive. The kitchen was hot and stuffy from the heat of the oven, but the excitement of a holiday made Martha’s discomfort bearable.

  Martha had impatiently awaited the Fourth of July. The last few years, there were parades, speeches, horse racing, target shooting, and wrestling matches to celebrate the birth of the United States. As a member of the Nauvoo Legion, Samuel marched in the parade in his militia uniform, and Malinda marched behind the legion with other children. Martha was so proud to watch her family participate in the parade. This year would be different. Samuel would not be marching again. The Nauvoo Legion was crippled last year by Governor Ford’s order to seize cannons and small arms shortly before Independence Day. In a show of def
iance, the Nauvoo Legion proudly marched without their weapons, led by President Young donned in the uniform of the newly martyred Lieutenant General Joseph Smith. Martha wasn’t sure what celebrations Nauvoo would feature this year, but Martha and Samuel decided that with the proliferation of the mobs, it was best to celebrate Independence Day privately. Samuel did not want to celebrate the Fourth at all, feeling betrayed by the United States for the government’s failure to protect their freedom of religion and arms. But Martha felt no reason to protest a party, so she convinced Samuel to at least invite their families to their house for an evening of much needed relaxation and rest.

  Martha’s family arrived first, bringing a platter of fresh vegetables and a cake.

  “Where is Lydia?” Martha asked, noticing Lydia’s absence from the group.

  “She has a new beau,” Annie announced happily as they entered. “He comes every Sunday.”

  “A new beau!” Martha exclaimed. "Why, she hasn’t told me a thing about him! I had no idea.”

  “Yes,” Beth spoke up. "Faddy doesn’t even light a courting candle for him.”

  “Faddy doesn’t? Why, that’s not fair,” Martha replied with a wink. “When Samuel and I were courting, Faddy would shorten the candle.”

  Martha had set up a quilt on a large frame for the women in her family to work on. She and her mother took their spots along the frame and began sewing.

  “What’s a courting candle?” Annie asked.

  “When a man is interested in a woman to marry, he comes and visits with her. A courting candle is lit when he arrives, telling everyone how much time is left before he should leave. When the candle burns out, the visit is over,” Martha explained to her little sister. “So if Faddy doesn’t like your beau, he doesn’t light a tall candle. He can also make a candle shorter, just by twisting a knob. Faddy must not have liked Sam very much, in my case.” She shot her father a wry look.