The Work and the Glory Page 29

He smiled a brief, wan smile of thanks, then let out his breath slowly. “Emma nearly died too. She was emotionally and physically shattered. For a time I had to nurse her day and night. I had no time to worry about the manuscript or Martin or what he was doing. But finally, when Emma began to recover, I started to worry. There had been no word from Martin in almost three weeks. That’s when I decided I had to come back.”

  He let the pain and weariness all come out in his voice. “When Martin told me he had searched everywhere and could not find the manuscript, I was sure I had lost my soul.”

  For several moments they sat there, Joseph lost in his sorrow, Nathan wanting desperately to comfort him but not knowing what to say.

  “Maybe you could offer a reward.” It seemed foolish the moment he said it, and he wasn’t surprised when Joseph shook his head.

  He tried again. “But the manuscript is of no real value. It’s not like they have the gold plates. I know it’s a lot of work, but can’t you just translate them again?”

  Joseph turned. The dappling of light through the leaves played across his face, highlighting the features as Nathan watched. His eyes, which characteristically caught and held anyone with whom he spoke, were now downcast. The lips, normally so quick to turn up in an engaging smile, were now pressed tightly together. The pain that lined Joseph’s face was like a sudden shadow moving across the sun. “I fear I have lost my place as the one to do the work.”

  Nathan shot upright. “No, Joseph! It was not your fault.”

  “It was my fault! I should have listened. What can I say to Moroni? He trusted the work to my keeping.”

  Rocked deeply, Nathan sat back. “You must continue, Joseph.”

  Joseph stood slowly, as though pulling up a heavy weight with him. “I leave to return to Harmony in the morning. There I shall humble myself in mighty prayer, and beseech the Lord for his forgiveness. But I do not know, Nathan. I just do not know.”

  “I can’t believe the Lord has called you to this work to put you aside now.”

  For the first time, Joseph forced a hopeful smile. “I hope you’re right. And I so need to hear you say that.”

  “I know it is true,” Nathan said, realizing with abruptness that he really did feel that way. “All is not lost.”

  “Perhaps not. I have learned my lesson, Nathan. A great lesson. I will never forget it. From now on I will trust only in the Lord’s counsel.”

  A voice echoed softly across the fields behind them. Joseph turned. Again the sound came. “Joseph!”

  “It’s Mother,” Joseph said. “I’d better go.” He stuck out his hand. “Thank you for coming, Nathan. I needed someone to talk to. Someone to tell me there is still hope.”

  Nathan shrugged, embarrassed by the emotion in Joseph’s voice. “Mother sends her greetings. She is most anxious to hear about the work.”

  “I shall write to you both as soon as I know anything.”

  Nathan grabbed his arm. “You shall not have to. I have hired on with Mr. Joseph Knight of Colesville.”

  Joseph stopped dead, staring. “Do you speak truly?” he cried.

  “Yes. I’ll be coming to Colesville at the end of the harvest.”

  “But Harmony is just twenty-five miles from Colesville. Will you come and see us, Nathan?”

  “I shall, work permitting.”

  “That’s wonderful news, Nathan. Mr. Knight is a fine gentleman. He has already been most helpful to Emma and me.” He suddenly sobered. “And what does this do to your courtship with Lydia McBride?”

  Now it was Nathan who sighed. “I will be telling her tonight. How can we marry until I can make my own way in the world? But I don’t know how she will take it. She hasn’t even agreed to marry me as yet.”

  “Trust the Lord, Nathan,” Joseph said. “All will work out for the good.”

  They started walking toward the house. Suddenly, Joseph put his arm around Nathan’s shoulder and pulled him up against him, shoulder to shoulder. “You coming to Colesville. I can’t believe it. Emma will also be pleased.” He was grinning widely now. This was more like the old Joseph whom Nathan knew.

  Nathan smiled back. “I am excited. And I will be most anxious to hear how the work is progressing, Joseph.”

  He instantly sobered again. “I hope it does progress, Nathan.”

  Nathan nodded. “It will. I know it will.”

  “Lydia, Nathan’s here.”

  “Thank you, Papa, I’ll be down in a moment.” She turned back to the mirror, conscious of the excitement which had started her pulse quickening. But she also felt a sudden dread. Would Nathan understand? Could she make him see without hurting him too deeply? Since earlier that morning when her mother had sat her down and showed her the letter, Lydia had thought of little else. She had taken the afternoon and gone south of town to spend some time with her aunt. They had discussed every aspect of the question, explored every implication of deciding one way or the other. Aunt Bea’s quiet gentleness had helped Lydia come to a decision, even though it would not be an easy one. She now knew where her heart was, but would Nathan understand?

  She picked up the brush and pulled twice more through the rich darkness of her hair. It shone with luster in the light of the lamp above her, and with characteristic honesty she admitted to herself she was really very pretty tonight. She also admitted that tonight of all nights she wanted to be so, very much wanted to be so. Picking out a thin scarlet ribbon, she pulled her hair back away from her face and tied it there. Though he had never said so, she knew this was Nathan’s favorite way for her to wear her hair.

  A quick dab of cologne, one last turn in front of the glass to see that all was in perfect order, a quick silent prayer for help in finding the right words, and she started for the stairs.

  Nathan was dressed in his best clothes. He rose immediately, watching her as she entered the room. The look in his eyes was all the compliment she needed. She ducked her head a little and smiled at him. “Hello, Nathan.”

  “Hello, Lydia.”

  “I’m sorry I wasn’t home earlier.”

  “No reason you should have been,” he replied. “As I told your mother, I had to come into the village early and just thought I’d see if you were home.”

  “Come sit over here, Lydia,” her mother said, patting the place on the divan next to her.

  “Now, Hannah,” her father chided, reaching out to touch his wife’s arm. “It’s such a beautiful evening outside, why don’t we let these young people go for a walk and be by themselves?”

  Hannah McBride shot her husband a withering look which he fielded blandly. Lydia repressed a smile. Her mother knew she had scored a virtual triumph today. She wanted to watch Nathan’s face when he heard the news. But Lydia was also grateful to her father for his understanding. Telling Nathan was going to be hard enough without having her mother hovering over them.

  She looked up at Nathan. “Is that all right with you?”

  “That’s fine.” This time Lydia nearly laughed outright. The look of relief on his face was so evident as to be almost comical.

  Lydia got a white crocheted shawl from the wardrobe which sat in the hallway, and Nathan put it across her shoulders. As he opened the door, Lydia waved to her mother, then went up on tiptoes to kiss her father’s cheek. “Thank you, Papa,” she whispered.

  He gave her hand a quick squeeze. “You two have a pleasant evening.”

  They stopped for a moment on the front step and Lydia slipped her arm through Nathan’s and giggled softly. “For a moment I thought you were going to close your eyes and offer a prayer of thanks when Papa suggested we go for a walk.”

  Nathan grimaced. “Was I that obvious?”

  She laughed again. “Let’s just hope Mama can’t read your face as well as I can.”

  Nathan’s expression was rueful. “Do you think she’ll ever consider me an acceptable suitor for you?”

  “Mama has big dreams, but she likes you.”

  Nathan hooted.

 
; “Well,” Lydia said, laying her head against his shoulder, “at least she’s getting used to the idea of you.”

  “Where would you like to walk?”

  “Let’s go up Vienna Street, past the cemetery. That’s my favorite part of town.”

  They walked leisurely up the street, nodding to those they passed, stopping once to chat briefly with some of Lydia’s friends. Mostly they both seemed content to retreat into their own thoughts. That surprised Lydia a little. Nathan was even more reticent than usual, almost pensive. Did he somehow sense what was coming?

  “Do you mind if we walk through the cemetery?”

  “Of course not.”

  Her friends thought it a little ghoulish that Lydia loved to be in Palmyra’s cemetery, but it was one of her favorite spots. It was as though sounds could not penetrate past the wooden gate. The grass was a rich green, and though deep, it was neatly clipped. The numerous trees subdued the last rays of the sun, turning the area into soft patterns of light and shadow.

  They passed the cottage of the sexton and waved to the children who played in front, then continued around a small hillock at the center of the cemetery to a spot where they were alone. Nathan stopped and turned to her, then bent down and kissed her softly. She went up on tiptoe, one hand coming up to touch his cheek, as she returned it fully.

  “I missed you.”

  She smiled. “It’s only been a week.”

  “I miss you every day.”

  “I know.” She reached up and kissed him again.

  He took her by the hand and led her to a spot beneath a spreading beech tree. He smoothed a place on the grass. “Can we sit for a while? I…we need to talk.”

  Surprised, Lydia nodded and sat down. Nathan sat so he was facing her. He fidgeted a little, trying to get comfortable, his eyes not quite meeting hers. When he finally looked up at her, she felt a sudden wrench in her heart. Could she really go through with this?

  He cleared his throat, then coughed. One hand came up and his fingers began to fiddle at the buttons on his jacket.

  “What is it, Nathan?”

  He reached out and clasped her hand. “You know I love you, Lydia McBride.”

  Her eyes softened. “Yes, Nathan Steed. I do. And I can think of nothing that gives me more happiness.”

  “I…”

  She watched, her heart warming to him. Oh, how she loved this gentle, good man!

  He straightened, making up his mind to postpone it no longer. “I want to marry you, Lydia.”

  She squeezed his hand, her voice suddenly husky. “And I you, Nathan.”

  “But—”

  She felt a sudden clutch. His eyes had dropped again and now she feared he would pull the button right off his coat. “But what, Nathan?”

  He shook his head. “A man needs to be responsible if he’s goin’ to be startin’ up his own family.”

  And then it all came out in a rush—the fact his father’s farm wasn’t big enough for two families, the Carlson farm coming up for sale, his conversation with his father, the offer from Joseph Knight in Colesville. Lydia sat back, nodding soberly at the appropriate time, murmuring an assent when required, but all the time feeling an immense sense of relief coursing through her.

  Finally, he was finished. “It will mean I’ll have to be gone for several months.”

  “But you’re not trying to get out of marrying me?” she teased.

  He blinked. “Of course not. It’s just that—”

  She clapped her hands. “This is wonderful news, Nathan.”

  “It is?” His bewilderment was delightful and she quickly moved over to sit next to him, pulling his arm up and around her.

  “Nathan, I have something to tell you too. I’ve been worrying about it all day long. Now you have just solved my problem.”

  “I have?”

  “Mother got a letter from my aunt today.”

  “Your Aunt Bea?”

  “No. This is my father’s sister. She lives in Boston. Her daughter is my favorite cousin. We were just like sisters until our family moved to New York.”

  He nodded, still puzzled.

  “You know how my mother has been trying to ship me off to finishing school in New York City?”

  Nathan’s mouth tightened. “Yes, I think I also know why she wants to do it, too.”

  “Yes, she was hoping to break us apart. That’s why I have refused to even consider it. But my aunt runs a girl’s school. She wants me to come there for a year and stay with her.”

  “A year?” he said, his face falling.

  “Yes. I love Boston and I’ve wanted to go back for so long. But I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you. But now, if you’re going to be gone too…”

  He was nodding, finally understanding. “When would you go?”

  “In about a month.”

  He smiled. “But that’s not much sooner than I have to leave.”

  “I know,” she rushed on. “It’s perfect. If I say no to this, Mother will probably fight to send me to New York City again. Even Papa is pressuring me to accept.”

  She tipped her head back and kissed him quickly. “The thought of being away from you for that long makes me want to weep, but if you were gone and I were still here, I couldn’t bear it. And I really would love to go.”

  Nathan was nodding now, his mind racing. “Mr. Knight said he needs help all through next year. If I could come home just long enough to help Pa with the spring planting, I could work all summer. By next fall I could earn enough to pay off the mortgage free and clear.”

  “I’ve always wanted a fall wedding,” she murmured. “Or any other month you ask me.”

  He pulled her close. “A whole year.”

  Tears welled up unexpectedly in her eyes, as the reality of going that long without seeing him hit her. “I know. But when it’s over, then…”

  He kissed her, first with infinite gentleness, then suddenly with a fierceness that took her breath away.

  “When it’s over, then no more being separated ever again.” He touched her nose. “And if your mother doesn’t like that, she can just find herself a daughter who falls in love with the right person to begin with.”

  “She already did,” Lydia murmured happily. “She already did.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Susquehanna River has its headwaters in Otsego Lake near Cooperstown, New York, home of one of America’s early novelists, James Fenimore Cooper. Fast-moving, shallow, and rocky, the river was not suitable for shipping, a significant loss considering it moved through the heartland of what would become one of America’s most industrialized regions. From Otsego Lake the river moved southward, dipping briefly into Pennsylvania before making a giant loop back into New York, past Binghamton and almost to Elmira before dropping down again into Pennsylvania and on to Chesapeake Bay.

  Nathan Steed sat on the wagon seat alongside his employer, Joseph Knight, Sr. They were moving steadily southward on the road that led from Colesville, New York, to Harmony, Pennsylvania. The road paralleled the Susquehanna River the entire distance, though for much of the way the river was hidden from view by the thick stand of trees and undergrowth that lined its banks.

  It was a beautiful day in late May of 1829. The previous three days had been rainy and overcast, but this morning had dawned bright and clear, the air scrubbed perfectly clean by the previous day’s showers. Now Nathan could feel the sun beating on the back of his shirt, and he reveled in the pleasant warmth.

  “We’re almost there.” As Nathan came out of his thoughts, Mr. Knight raised an arm to point. About a quarter of a mile ahead of them, the road turned gently right, or to the west, forced to that course by the sweeping bend of the river. “Harmony Village is just around the corner. Joseph and Emma live less than half a mile west of there.”

  Nathan nodded, finding himself suddenly eager to see Joseph again. Twice Joseph had been to Colesville to see the Knights and Josiah Stowell, but one time Nathan had been on business for Mr. Kni
ght, the other he had been back in Palmyra helping his father with the spring plowing and planting. So he had not seen Joseph since the previous summer.

  From the Knights he had learned that after a period of repentance and humbling himself, Joseph had once again received the plates from the angel Moroni and the translation had resumed. He was eager to talk with Joseph and learn more of the details. A few days earlier, Mr. Knight had received word that Joseph was again in need of provisions if the work on the translation was not to cease while he was forced to find work. Immediately Knight purchased a wagonload of supplies—grain, potatoes, some writing paper—and packed it all into a wagon. Nathan was elated when Knight invited him to come with him to help unload the wagon.

  Nathan glanced at the older gentleman sitting next to him on the wagon seat. There weren’t many finer men than Joseph Knight, Sr. “It’s a good thing you’re doing, Mr. Knight,” Nathan said. “A good thing.”

  Knight looked away, embarrassed. “Don’t want Joseph to have to stop the work in order to keep his family in food.”

  Yes, thought Nathan. It’s that simple, isn’t it? And that was one of the things that made Joseph Knight the man he was.

  “How did you come to first believe in Joseph?” Nathan asked. He had wondered that many times, but his natural tendency not to pry had held him back. Now it seemed an appropriate time.

  Mr. Knight seemed surprised for a moment, but then smiled slowly, remembering. “Well, Joseph probably told you about his treasure hunting days with Josiah—Mr. Stowell.”

  “Yes, but he never gave much detail, only said he was involved.”

  “Well, Josiah often went north into the Finger Lakes area to buy wheat and flour, then sell it in New York City.” He chuckled. “Made a handsome profit at it too. Anyway, Josiah had some map that supposedly showed the location of some treasure buried by the Spanish explorers. He got quite exercised about the notion of finding buried treasure.”

  “Spanish treasure up this far?” Nathan asked dubiously.

  “Oh, the country was full of such tales,” Knight said. “I never could get as excited about them as Josiah did. But anyway, on one of his trips to Palmyra he began hearing tales about this boy who had found some gold plates. People said he had magic powers. Josiah immediately sought him out for help.”