Goodbye, Nauvoo Read online

  “No, I used less candle while you were courting because we had a candle shortage and needed to save the wax,” Faddy replied with a chuckle.

  “You should have not used a candle then!” Martha replied.

  “Then I would have never gotten Samuel to leave.”

  “That is true,” Samuel agreed.

  Samuel’s family came shortly after with two good-sized cooked chickens. There was Silas, Margaret, William, and Phoebe. Margaret looked regal in a red frock with her cooked chickens on a silver platter.

  Silas and the other men went outside to discuss politics while Margaret joined Martha and Lucy at the quilt. Malinda led Beth, Annie, and Phoebe upstairs while the other young children explored the house. Asenath contentedly laid on a blanket at Martha’s feet and played with a doll that had been handed down from Malinda and Sarah.

  The women talked and sewed, although Martha noticed that Lucy seemed more quiet than usual around Margaret.

  “Where is Lydia?” Margaret asked, noticing her absence. “Is she feeling well?”

  Lucy shot Margaret a quick glance before she replied. “She’s feeling quite well. She was invited to a steamboat excursion with a friend.”

  “A steamboat?” Martha asked in surprise.

  Margaret chimed in, “Yes, what in the world would possess her to do such a thing?”

  Without breaking her gaze, Lucy stabbed her needle into the fabric. “His name is Brother Clark. Perhaps you may know him.”

  “Brother Clark!” Margaret huffed. “I thought I warned you about him, Sister Parker!”

  “Yes, he’s wonderful!” Beth chimed in as she came galloping down the stairs with Annie, Malinda, and Phoebe on her heels. “I hope they get married one day.”

  “Walk, please, girls!” Lucy scolded.

  “Marriage?” Martha said. “Why, there is quite a lot Lydia hasn’t told me.”

  Lucy turned to Martha and asked, “Ready to roll?”

  They advanced the quilt and Martha lifted the frame off of her skirts and cried, “Oh, it is as heavy as sin!”

  “Speaking of sin,” Margaret began, “that Brother Clark is a no-good scoundrel. The fact that Lydia is gallivanting all over town with him is quite worrisome. Especially being a woman in mourning.”

  Lucy’s face grew bright red. “Sister Wilcox, Lydia has been in mourning for quite some time. She has suffered enough, with the loss of her child and husband and farm in such a short amount of time. How much more need she suffer before she can be happy again? She is getting older by the day, and soon enough she will be too old to wed. A spinster!” Lucy glared at Margaret over the quilt. “Her time is running out to find a new husband to care for her if we leave Nauvoo in the spring. Perhaps she should mourn longer?”

  Ignoring Lucy, Margaret turned to Martha and leaned back as if she were a recoiling snake about to pounce. “Did you know that he had a bastard child? I was there for the birthing. The merciful Lord caused the child to die, and the mother, too, during childbirth. It was a just punishment for conceiving a child out of wedlock. He married the harlot before the birth of their child, but of course, the sin had already been committed. Lydia doesn’t deserve a man like that. Nor does any woman! If I were you I wouldn’t have the hooligan hanging around my house, like a lion looking for prey.” Margaret turned then to Lucy. “Adultery is an unforgivable sin, is it not Lucy?”

  Lucy’s face grew pale. “Excuse me,” she murmured as she suddenly rose and left the room, leaving Martha and Margaret alone.

  Margaret inched closer to Martha, her body tilted toward her like a leaning tower. “If I were you, I’d put a stop to this relationship immediately. Who knows what Brother Clark’s intentions are. Perhaps it is too late. You cannot be too sure of a man with a history of immoral behavior.”

  Martha nodded sadly, her heart aching for her cousin.

  Chapter 17

  The Revelation

  Martha and her children came to visit Lydia and her Parker family while Samuel was away hauling one evening. It was a hot day, made worse by the humidity that clung to Martha’s skin like a heavy blanket. Martha’s children sprawled on the cool ground as Martha sat with her family in the parlor. A wonderful cross breeze blew through the open windows.

  “I’m so glad you could come by,” Lucy said as she rocked back and forth and fanned herself. “It's just the thing I’ve needed to raise my spirits.” She smiled sadly at her grandchildren. “Beth and I have been feeling under the weather.”

  Malinda raised herself on her elbows. “Is Beth coming down to play today?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Lucy replied frowning. “Beth had so much fun at our last party, she was so excited for everyone to come over again. It broke her heart that she can’t be down here with you all. She’s had a fever for the last few days and the doctor said it would be best for her to stay in bed until she’s better.” She pulled Johnnie up into her lap and held him tight until he squirmed out of her arms.

  “Poor thing, I hope she feels better,” Martha said as she held Asenath on her knee. “It's the bad swamp air. Too much vegetable matter.”

  Lydia nodded. “Yes, they thought they could get rid of it when they drained the swamp, but not so.”

  “It's not the swamp air,” Faddy interjected. “It's those immigrants from England and the East. Bringing with them their diseases.” He shook his head. “They want to come here but should they? Their diseases are killing us off. Pretty soon there won’t be many of us left. If Governor Ford wants us gone, he should just ship a bunch of Easterners over here. That would take care of the job real quick.”

  “Faddy is off on one of his tangents again,” Lucy said with a tsk. “You’re forgetting we were immigrants, too, aren’t you?”

  “But he has a point,” said Lydia. “I was out at the cemetery recently and there were dozens of new graves being dug and more that needed to be dug. The gravedigger said that 40 people have already died from fever alone this season.”

  “No more talk of death and disease in this house. Not with Beth upstairs suffering,” Lucy said angrily, her eyes flitting up at the ceiling.

  As if on cue, there came a miserable groan from upstairs where Beth slept. Lucy sighed. “She’s had a rough time of it, she has. I better see if she needs me.” She lumbered out of her rocker and ascended the staircase, moving slowly as if each step were like moving mountains.

  “She’s been up all night with Beth,” Faddy explained. “The child has not been able to sleep a wink with the pain she’s been in.”

  “She doesn’t leave her side when Beth’s awake,” Lydia added, “and when Beth’s asleep she stays up there with her in her room. It's a miracle she came down at all today to see you.”

  “Will you pray for your sister, Martha?” Faddy asked. “You know what it would do to your mother if anything happened...” Faddy’s voice trailed off. Martha did not need him to continue.

  She nodded and her throat tightened. “Of course. I’ll pray for them both.”

  “Is Beth going to die?” Annie asked Faddy, her eyes wide with terror.

  Faddy shook his head. “We all do eventually, dear,” he said. “It’s God’s decision when he takes us home to be with Him.”

  Martha couldn’t help staring at her little sister. She had never seen this look of fear on her face before, and it scared her. Beth dying was unthinkable, and yet, it was a harsh reality that Martha knew was very possible. She saw it before, friends wasting away until they filled another grave at the burying grounds. Most recently she saw it with Lydia’s Danny. His death had been prolonged, a torture to his body and wife. Lydia worked round the clock to ensure Danny’s comfort. She spent a good fortune on doctor visits that did nothing to help him. If it was God’s will that Beth passed, Martha hoped that she would pass quickly. It would be a mercy for both Beth and Lucy if she did.

  Martha looked over at Lydia, wondering what she thought of it all. Lydia had the most recent experience with death than anyone. Lydia sat sto
ny-faced as she darned some socks.

  Lydia spoke, her voice barely a whisper. “’For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.’”

  “What is that you said?” Martha asked.

  Lydia looked up, her face softening. “’Whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life,’” she repeated, louder now that all could hear. “That means, Annie, that your sister will never die spiritually because she is a disciple of Christ. In that sense, there really is no death.”

  She continued, “Our body is like a pair of shoes and our spirit is our feet. When our shoes get so worn out so that we can’t wear them anymore, we take them off. Then, we get a new pair of shoes, an even better pair. That is like when we die. Our body gets worn out, and then we shed it, but our spirit is still alive. And Heavenly Father eventually gives us back our old body, but made new again.”

  Annie looked confused but didn’t say a word. Faddy put his hands on her shoulders. “How about you and me go out for a little walk?” he asked her. “It sure is nice outside now that the sun’s gone down. If anyone else wants to come, too, feel free. Perhaps we can go on a firefly hunt together.”

  Like a stampede, Martha’s children followed Faddy and Annie outside.

  Now that the house was still, Martha leaned back in her chair and turned to her cousin.

  “I imagine you haven’t had a lot of time to court since Beth’s been sick.”

  “Not quite, sadly. Why do you ask?”

  “I heard about your steamboat excursion. Mother told me all about it.”

  Lydia blushed. “How much did she tell you?”

  “Quite a bit,” Martha said, her voice deceptively calm. “I was wondering when you were going to tell me in person?”

  “Forgive me, I meant to tell you about him sooner.” Lydia frowned. “It's been busy here, with Beth being ill. I’ve taken over her chores, and Aunt Parker’s workload has doubled, which means I’ve been…”

  “It's alright, Lydia,” Martha gently cut her off. “I understand. You’re doing a lot to help out and I’m sure Faddy and Mother appreciate all you’ve done.” Martha gave her cousin a kind smile. “I sure appreciated when you came to help during my confinement. I wish I could repay you somehow.”

  “When Worthy and I get married, you can bake us a cake, that will settle things,” Lydia replied with a wink.

  Martha paused and shifted in her seat. A concerned frown appeared on her face. “Lydia, I’d like to know more about your new beau. It seems as if everyone else knows more about him than I do. Possibly even more than you do.”

  “What do you mean?” Lydia asked, her eyebrows coming together.

  “Well, tell me about this man? Who is he?”

  Lydia set down her sewing and smiled off into the distance reminiscing. “His name is Worthy Henry Clark. He is an artist, a land appraiser, an adventurer. He is very funny,” Lydia said. “He tells me the most wonderful stories of the places he’s been to and of all the wonderful things he’s seen.”

  “And that is all?”

  Lydia’s smile disappeared. “Of course, he has been married before. It was quite tragic how it ended.”

  “And did he tell you all the details of this tragedy?”

  “I believe so. His wife died in childbirth. He did not elaborate, but I would not expect him to.”

  Martha was quiet for a moment, her brow furrowed. “Lydia,” she began, reaching for her cousin’s hand. “Samuel’s mother had much to say about Brother Clark. She told me some very surprising facts about his past. I’m not sure Brother Clark is the man you think he is.”

  Lydia laughed. “I did not know that Sister Wilcox was acquainted with Worthy. I would be very interested to hear what she knows about him that I don’t.”

  “There is something he hasn’t told you.” Martha took in a long breath of air as if she was procrastinating telling Lydia what she was about to say. “His child? The one that died? It was conceived out of wedlock.”

  At first, Martha’s proclamation did not phase Lydia. She gave another little laugh. As she thought about what her cousin said, Lydia felt her heart pound faster and her head grow light. She steadied herself, gripping the arm of her rocking chair until her knuckles turned white.

  “Are you sure it's true?” Lydia whispered.

  Martha nodded sadly as she grasped her cousin’s trembling hands in her own. “Sadly, yes. Margaret was the midwife who delivered his baby. That is how she knows.”

  Lydia crumpled in Martha’s arms, overcome with emotion.

  “I am so sorry, Lydia,” Martha said quietly, holding onto Lydia as tight as she could, wishing there was some way she could help relieve her cousin’s pain.

  For the next few minutes, Lydia sobbed into Martha’s shoulder until the tears came no more. “Oh, Martha, what am I to do? He’s asked me to marry him.”

  Martha shook her head. “You can’t marry a man with a reputation like that, especially not after he deceived you.”

  “But I love him,” Lydia declared sadly.

  “But he lied to you,” Martha replied.

  “I know.”

  “Come, shall we forget the man and visit with Beth?” Martha asked, her voice soft.

  “No, you go,” Lydia declared. “I will wait here.”

  Martha nodded, then ascended the rickety stairs to the room Beth and Annie shared. Down below her, she watched as Lydia took on a new fit of sobbing. Lydia’s tight, blonde tendrils were now loose in disarray, framing her face in a piteous picture of misery. Martha could not bear to see her this way, not again. She turned her focus instead on making her way to Beth’s bedroom, where she found her sister curled into a ball in bed, her damp hair clinging to her face. Lucy sat next to her, idly watching the girl.

  “How is she?” Martha asked in a whisper as she entered the room.

  “Not well. Her fever has not subsided,” Lucy replied quietly as she took a rag from a washbasin and dabbed it delicately onto the girl’s forehead. She looked up at Martha with a half-frown and wide eyes, as if expecting Martha to provide a solution.

  Beth stirred, whimpering in pain and thrashing about. Lucy lightly touched her daughter’s shoulder to calm her. “Shh,” she hushed until Beth’s body relaxed into the ticking and fell back asleep.

  “No medicine has been able to help,” Lucy declared.

  “Has she had a blessing?”

  “Yes. Faddy gave her a Father’s Blessing.”

  “And nothing has helped,” Martha repeated.

  “Nothing.” Lucy shook her head slowly back and forth. “I fear the worst.”

  “Have faith, Mother,” Martha replied feebly. But seeing her sister suffering there in front of her did not help her have hope that Beth would get better.

  “We’ve only just celebrated her birthday,” Lucy said distantly. “She was so happy to get her new slippers.”

  Martha wrapped her arms around her mother as if she were a child to be comforted. Then Martha pulled back, noticing Lucy shaking slightly as if it were a chilly winter day. “Are you alright, Mother? You’re shivering.”

  Lucy looked down at herself. “I’m sure it’ll pass by. I’ve got more important things to worry about,” she said, turning to her sick daughter.

  “Why don’t you get some rest? Let me sit with Beth for a spell.”

  Lucy paused as if she were trying to think of some way to reject her daughter’s offer. “Thank you kindly,” she said, surrendering. “Some rest would do me good, I think.” She shuffled back downstairs, leaving Martha alone with her sister.

  Beth began thrashing about again, but this time, Martha was the one to comfort her. She sat next to her sister’s weak body and began humming a soft, sweet lullaby. The girl’s eyelids fluttered open and she stared at Martha in a hazy trance.

  Martha recalled when she was just twelve years old, she had witnessed Beth’s birthing. She held Beth in her ar
ms and fell in love with the little person that squirmed restlessly as she searched for milk. It was Martha’s first experience with a birthing and what made her want to be a mother one day.

  Lucy told her then, “As an older sister, it is your duty to watch out for Beth. To care for her and love her and keep her safe.”

  Now, Martha couldn’t help but feel remorse as she watched Beth succumbing to her disease as if she had failed some way in her duty to her sister.

  Chapter 18

  The Funeral

  Martha was there silently watching over her sister when Beth’s young spirit left her body in a ghostly sigh. Lucy was distraught that she hadn’t been there at the time of Beth’s death. That was the first time Martha ever saw her mother cry.

  Faddy went to order a coffin from the coffin-maker while Martha and her mother prepared the body. The Illinois humid heat would decompose the body quickly if they did not act fast enough. Lydia offered to watch Martha’s children, taking Annie with her. Lucy and Faddy agreed it would be better for Annie to not be present for the shrouding. Annie and Martha’s children could say goodbye to Beth during the viewing when the body would be more presentable.

  Martha’s face was puffy and pink as she carefully washed and dressed her younger sister on Faddy’s kitchen table. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. Beth was supposed to grow up and get married. She was supposed to live a long, happy life with children and grandchildren around her when she died. It was supposed to be Martha’s job to help her sister dress for her wedding, not her funeral.

  Martha was silent as she worked. Lucy was the one who spoke first, her voice was scarred from her tears.

  “I don’t understand why the Lord works as He does,” she said as she brushed her daughter’s long, wavy hair. “Years ago I believed that I wasn’t deserving of His blessings. That sin forever damned me to wallow in misery forever. I thought that the Lord showed me forgiveness by giving me Beth and Annie. Perhaps I was mistaken. Perhaps this is my punishment. No parent should ever have to watch their child die.”