Goodbye, Nauvoo Page 8

  “No, he doesn’t. At least not in body. In spirit, possibly. I’ve always assumed he’d haunt me after he’s passed on. Perhaps he’s the reason I find things around the house in places they shouldn’t be. He had a knack for moving things to the wrong spot while alive and not replacing them.”

  Lydia gave a little chuckle before turning serious. “I’m sorry he’s passed. So you live alone?”

  “I do now,” Worthy said in a low voice. “I suspect you understand, seeing as you are wearing black.”

  “Pardon me?”

  “You are in mourning, are you not? Or do you just fancy the color black?”

  “I am in mourning,” Lydia answered him, dropping her eyes once again. She had forgotten that she was wearing her mourning shawl. “My husband passed in February.”

  Worthy frowned. “I’m terribly sorry.”

  Silence fell between them. The noises of Nauvoo filled the emptiness in their conversation: the clip-clopping of hooves, the creaking of wooden wheels, the lonely yelp of a dog in the distance.

  Finally, Worthy spoke. “If it's any consolation, I’ve lost a spouse myself. A few years ago. She died in childbirth.”

  A pained look spread upon Lydia’s face. “How horrible. I imagine you’re still mourning her.”

  “Yes. It does get better after awhile.”

  Lydia spotted Margaret Wilcox in the distance, her black medicine bag in hand, looking her way. Lydia hoped Margaret hadn’t seen her with Worthy and held her breath until the woman turned down another street. Lydia could feel her cheeks turning red in shame to be seen with a man when she was still grieving her late husband.

  Worthy frowned. “Is everything alright?” he asked her.

  Lydia shook her head. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let you walk me home. As you pointed out, I am clearly in mourning.”

  “I don’t see anything the matter with that,” he replied. “It would be safer for you to be accompanied, correct?”

  Lydia ignored him, walking faster now in silence, hoping Worthy would leave her and let her return home alone. Instead, he followed her all the way up to the front steps to her aunt and uncle’s home.

  Lydia grabbed the handle to the wooden front door, then turned to stare at Worthy.

  “I am grateful for your company, Brother Clark. Thank you, but I must remember my duties as a widow,” she said, giving him a sad smile. “I’m sure you understand.”

  She left Worthy standing bewildered at the doorstep, his mouth dropped in a silent stammer.

  Chapter 12

  The Quilting Group

  “When will the next formal Relief Society meeting be held?” Martha asked.

  After her confinement had ended, she restarted a weekly quilting group in her home, a gathering of women who made up only part of the Female Relief Society of Nauvoo. Martha prided herself on being an early member of the Relief Society, pointing out at any occasion that she joined in 1842 when the organization was freshly formed by the Prophet Joseph Smith. Through the Relief Society, she helped sew clothes for workers building the temple, collected donations for the poor, and petitioned for women’s suffrage. But there had been no formal meetings since March of 1844. Martha enjoyed these meetings, and could not understand why they had stopped.

  A grey haired woman named Janet turned to her and said in a matter-of-fact tone, “There won’t be anymore, not until we can agree about plural marriage.”

  “Plural marriage! I don’t want my husband taking another wife besides me,” a woman wearing a red dress spoke up. Fittingly, her name was Scarlett.

  “Well, I don’t have a problem with it. The celestial law has been given to us for a reason,” Martha replied.

  “I agree with Martha. That is the commandment the Lord has placed upon us, and until it is retracted by the Lord then that is what’s right,” a rather skinny woman named Nancy interposed.

  “But that doesn’t mean everyone will practice it.”

  “And if your husband was commanded directly by the Lord to take another wife, would you live it?”

  “Well…”

  “I know it would try me greatly if my husband took a second wife, but aren’t we all tried in some way?” interrupted Martha.

  “Yes, absolutely. ‘For whom the Lord loveth he chastens.’”

  The woman in the red dress wrinkled up her nose and replied, “I certainly hope that He doesn’t chasten me in that way.”

  “And that is why we have no formal meetings,” the older woman declared. “We would bicker, bicker, bicker and nothing would get done. It's for the best. Until we have a new leader in the church who can help us reconcile our differences.”

  Nancy looked up from her work. “But, I thought President Young said that the Quorum of the Twelve was supposed to lead the church? Remember? That’s when Sidney Rigdon tried to claim leadership for himself last year after the Prophet’s death.”

  “Yes, but we have no single man who can help settle dissension,” Janet replied. “Every organization needs one ruling leader. That’s why we have a God. And that’s why we have a president of our country, leading with help from several branches of government underneath him. That’s the way it was under Prophet Smith. And that’s the way it should be. The Quorum leading the church is only meant to be a temporary arrangement. I believe a new prophet will be called eventually.” A few heads nodded in agreement.

  “And who do you think that will be?” Nancy asked.

  “Why, don’t you think Brigham Young would make a good leader?” Martha answered.

  “Absolutely!” several voices chimed in together.

  “President Young has been a stalwart example to us,” Nancy said, pulling her thread through the quilt. “With the Twelve Apostles leading the church now with him as their quorum president, I think it is only a matter of time before he becomes the president of the church as well.”

  “And you must remember his transfiguration after he came back from his mission last August. I was there at that meeting!” Martha added. “I saw it before my own eyes. For a moment President Young looked and sounded like Joseph Smith!”

  Janet nodded. “My husband saw it, too. Certainly that was a sign from God.”

  “Poor Sidney Rigdon.” Scarlett laughed. “Do you remember the look of surprise on his face seeing President Young?”

  “Yes. Poor man,” Nancy said. “I would be afraid of the ‘Lion of the Lord,’ too, if I were him. Where is Sidney now I wonder?”

  “Last I heard, after his excommunication he left for Pennsylvania. Started his own church. They call themselves Rigdonites!” Scarlet replied.

  A few of the women laughed at the name.

  “It is no laughing matter, ladies,” Janet said gravely. “When he left, he took other Saints with him. They are now fallen souls. They believe that Sidney was supposed to be heir to Brother Smith.”

  Martha threaded a new needle. “Why is that?”

  Janet looked up from her work. “Because in 1841, Brother Smith ordained Sidney as a ‘Prophet, Seer, and Revelator.’”

  “But, why wouldn’t he be the prophet then?” Scarlett asked.

  “Because, perhaps you did not know this, Brother Smith was constantly rebuking Sidney for speaking in the name of the Lord things that weren’t so. Brother Smith realized it was not because Sidney was deceived, but that he was being dishonest, and so Brother Smith took Sidney’s license to lead the church away from him.”

  “Speaking of Sidney Rigdon,” Nancy began, “you know who went and left the Church to follow him? The Hodge parents.”

  “The Hodge parents?”

  “Yes, Abraham and Rebecca. You know, Amos, William and Stephen are their children. Everyone knows them. The law breakers.” Nancy emphasized the word “law,” drawing it out as if she were carding wool.

  “It is no wonder that the Hodge brothers are a bunch of no-good ruffians, then. I hope they do get hung.”

  “Scarlett, that’s a terrible thing to say!” Janet chided.


  “Well it's true, isn’t it? After they murdered that Dutchman and his son-in-law.”

  “No! I didn’t hear about that!”

  “Yes!” Scarlet replied, her eyes wide as saucers. “His name was Miller and he had just moved to the county with his son-in-law, Hizen. The Hodge brothers entered Miller’s house with their faces blackened, and demanded whatever money was in the house. There was quite a scuffle. Miller died on the spot from a stab wound to his heart, and Hizen received a pistol ball to the right breast.”

  Several women gasped.

  “And the Hodges were caught no doubt?”

  Scarlett nodded, enjoying her limelight. “Oh, yes. They were traced back here to their house in Nauvoo. The Hodges put up quite a resistance and swore they would shoot anyone who tried to enter their home. Eventually, the Hodge brothers were captured and taken into custody. Amos has since been released, due to a lack of evidence, but William and Stephen are being indicted for the murder.”

  All of a sudden, a knock on the door caused the women to jump and interrupted the women’s discussion.

  “Malinda, could you see who that is?” Martha called to her oldest daughter. Malinda, who was playing on the floor with her younger siblings, raced off to the door and disappeared into the other room. When she returned, Margaret Wilcox followed behind her.

  “Good afternoon, ladies,” Margaret addressed the group.

  “Hello, Sister Wilcox,” a few of the ladies replied.

  “Come, sit and sew with us, Margaret!” Janet said, scooting her chair over to make room for Margaret.

  Margaret smiled at the woman. “I’m afraid I can’t see well enough to thread a needle anymore, Janet, but thank you. That’s why I deliver babies now.” Margaret turned to Martha, frowning. “I have an urgent matter to discuss with you, Martha. One that you will find highly unsettling regarding your cousin Lydia.”

  The chatter from the quilting group immediately ceased.

  “Lydia?” Martha could not think of what Margaret would know about Lydia that Martha did not. For all she knew, Lydia and Margaret did not interact with one another.

  “Yes, Lydia. Now, could you spare a minute or two of your time? I have a new mother I promised I’d visit later today and must be on my way.”

  “Excuse us, ladies,” Martha said to her quilting group, then led Margaret somewhere private.

  “Martha,” Margaret began, her voice so low Martha had to lean forward to hear her, “how does Lydia know Brother Clark?”

  “Brother who?” Martha asked.

  “Brother Clark,” Margaret repeated louder, as if that would jog Martha’s memory. “I saw her walking alone with him today.”

  Martha smiled. Lydia, walking with a man! “Good! I’ve encouraged her to consider remarrying,” Martha replied happily. “Perhaps she is taking it to heart finally.”

  Margaret looked at her disapprovingly. “Remarrying when she is such a new widow?” She shook her head. “In any case, you would not want her mingling with such a man as Brother Clark. I know things about him that would make your skin crawl.”

  Martha looked at her mother-in-law in surprise. “Like what?”

  Margaret peered around the corner of the room, looking for eavesdroppers. “Things I cannot repeat here. But he is no good, and that is that.” Margaret picked up her skirts to leave. “Remember what I said, and tell Lydia to be wary. She’ll listen to you. Keep an eye on her, will you?”

  Chapter 13

  Brother Fields

  Aslight breeze ruffled the masts of laundry that hung outside Lucy’s home. The sun was high and bright, casting a warm glow on the white nightdress Lydia was unpinning from the clothes line. She folded the garment carefully into a tight square, then plopped it into a large wicker basket near her feet. Lydia hummed while she worked, a little tune that Danny once sang.

  “It's another beautiful day today, isn’t it?” Lydia remarked to her aunt with a serene smile as she held out an edge of a sheet to Lucy to help her fold.

  Lucy moved simultaneously next to her, unpinning dry laundry and pinning up freshly washed linens.

  Lydia continued, “Faddy has an offer on my property already. He said he was meeting with the gentleman today. Probably as we speak.”

  “Yes, he told me,” Lucy replied. She pulled some wooden clothes pins from her apron and hung up a pair of socks.

  “Faddy said that the buyer’d let me come visit Rebecca anytime I’d like. It would make me feel better about the sale knowing that she would be in good hands.”

  “She would indeed, from the sound of it.” Lucy paused, then said boldly, “I wonder if he’s a handsome fellow?”

  “Aunt Parker!” Lydia cried. Her cheeks went red. “For all I know he’s married, and I wouldn’t be caught dead talking about a married man like that.”

  “And what if I told you he was a bachelor? According to Faddy he is.”

  “Not even then would I think of it. Especially not so soon after...”

  Lucy interrupted her with a disbelieving look. “It’s been months since you became a widow, I know. But how long are you going to go on like this?” She folded a pair of trousers, smoothing out the creases in the thick material. “If I were you, I’d be looking for a protector. Someone who will watch over you with all this mob mess. Someone who’ll lead your family in righteousness.”

  Lydia shook her head. “That’s what Martha is always telling me,” she said. “‘I should find a protector.’ ‘A man is a man, and if he is of our faith...’” Lydia trailed off.

  Lucy nodded. “And she’s right. I’ve taught her well.”

  Lydia smiled at her aunt. “I understand your reasoning, but if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to get rid of me.”

  "It would not be in my benefit to get rid of you. Your stitches are more even than mine, and you work for room and board alone. I’m certain that I’m getting a much better end of the deal. If I could keep you working for me forever, I would, but it would not be in your best interest if I did.”

  Lydia paused as she pinned a blouse to the clothes line and gave her aunt a puzzled look. “I wouldn’t mind staying with you and Faddy, Aunt Parker,” she replied. “I could do it, you know. I could live with you and help take care of you and Faddy.”

  “Oh, I know you could,” Lucy said, peering over a dress she was folding. “You’re a sweet girl, Lydia, but you deserve more than being stuck caring for a crotchety old couple for the rest of your days. Wouldn’t you like to start a family? It's not too late, you’re still young. Danny would want that for you.”

  Lydia thought back to her dream of herself as an old woman surrounded by grandchildren. There was only one way for that dream to become a reality, and that was if she remarried. Was Lucy right? Would Danny really want that for her?

  Lucy continued, “Besides, it's not your place to take care of Faddy and I. That’s what I have my girls for. Beth’s already said she would take us in if the need ever arose.” Lucy picked up the wicker basket, which was now full of clean laundry, and handed it to Lydia. “Come. We’ll need to press the clothes before they are ready for delivery. I’ll work on starting the fire to heat the flat-irons. Perhaps while you’re waiting you could get a glimpse of this interested buyer. If I’m not mistaken, Faddy and him are in the study,” Lucy said with a wink.

  The women set down the laundry in the house, then Lucy went back outside to fetch wood for a fire.

  Lydia noticed the door to Faddy’s study was partly open and leaned against it to see inside. Faddy was there having a muted conversation with a gentleman Lydia did not know. She leaned closer and closer as she strained to hear the men, until suddenly the door creaked open, and Lydia fell inside.

  Lydia’s cheeks burned bright red. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  Faddy rose to greet her and took her by the hand, pulling her into the room. “Brother Fields, this is my niece Lydia who owns the land. She’s the one you’ll have to persuade.”
>
  Brother Fields, a lanky looking man with balding hair, rose to shake Lydia’s hand. “Pleased to meet your acquaintance, miss,” he said, obviously conscious about his baldness, for immediately he began to stroke his remaining hair so it laid neatly across the top of his greasy head. “I was just telling your uncle here I’d like to buy your property. Your uncle and I were discussing the terms of the agreement which I think you will find highly favorable to you.”

  “Oh, is that so?” Lydia asked in surprise, turning to her uncle.

  Faddy cleared his throat. “Brother Fields has generously offered double than what Brother Clark said it's worth. It would be wise to accept.”

  Lydia’s eyes darted from her uncle to Brother Fields. What could she say to a generous offer like that? Of course it would be smart to accept it.

  Finally, Lydia spoke. “Brother Parker has my full permission to proceed with the selling of the property in full to Brother Fields. Thank you Brother Fields for your offer.” Lydia bowed her head and continued. “I must be getting back to helping Sister Parker, excuse me.” She turned on her heel and left the men to finish the business transaction alone.

  Brother Fields raced to stop her. “If you don’t mind, could I have a word with you alone, miss?”

  Startled, Lydia looked to her uncle, who nodded to her to let him speak.

  “Alright, Brother Fields,” she said politely, crossing her hands in front of her.

  “Miss Lydia,” he began as he spun his hat in his hands. “It has occurred to me that in light of special circumstances, it would be highly favorable to both of us to reach a certain agreement.”

  Lydia stared, puzzled by Brother Field’s vague language.

  Brother Fields went on, pausing nervously every now and then, his eyes thoroughly examining the floor. “This agreement which would be eternally binding, would serve to establish a bond between two individuals, namely you and I.”

  “Oh. Oh!” Lydia cried, scrunching up her face. She had heard this kind of speech before in Mountain when Wilbur first propositioned her for marriage.