The Sister Wife Read online

  She had complete faith in her husband who, when answering her questions, tried to be as open as possible without betraying Brother Brigham’s trust. It was understood by the women in the wagon party that their menfolk were privy to information not given to their wives, and it was delivered in such a way, Gabe told her, that it was as if decreed by God himself. Irked as she was over such an audacious practice, she loved her husband enough to believe he would tell her every detail as soon as he could.

  During the long wagon trek, Gabe would meet with Brother Brigham when the company stopped for their midday meal. Sometimes they met alone, other times with the other men, to receive instruction from the Book of Mormon and learn the doctrines of the Church. Then men, in turn, were instructed to teach their wives from the Book of Mormon, even read to them should they be unable to read it themselves. It was odd, she thought, even now as she watched the Prophet at the podium in front of the meeting, that the men were seated on one side of the room, the women on the other, with a wide aisle separating them.

  From the first turn of the wagon wheel on the Cumberland Road, her anticipation never wavered, for reaching Nauvoo, for giving her heart and soul to a new church and her new way of life. She’d never known such contentment, in spite of the discomfort and radical changes she underwent along the way: She shed her jewels, her fancy frocks, her frothy bonnets—the whole of Lady Mary Rose Ashley. With each mile the Conestoga rolled, she dressed more like the others, brought about at Gabe’s request after one of his meetings with Brother Brigham. She loved him, so she didn’t mind.

  By the time the company rolled wagons and livestock onto barges to float down the Ohio, she had become Mary Rose MacKay, and by the time they reached Nauvoo, just three months after leaving the Sea Hawk, she let it be known, again at Gabe’s request, that from this day forward she was Sister Mary Rose.

  Just months before, she would have refused any title but Lady, but being called Sister somehow filled a place in her heart that she hadn’t realized was empty. It meant that she belonged. That she was part of a larger family, unique in a way she had never imagined.

  “I’m thirthty,” Ruby whispered loudly. “And I have to uth the nethethary.”

  “You should have gone earlier when you had the chance,” Mary Rose whispered in her softest voice. “Now you’ll have to wait.”

  The child squirmed in her seat and then settled back with a huff.

  Pearl gave her sister a superior look and sighed as if she was above such behavior.

  Mary Rose turned her attention back to the platform. The Prophet had finished his welcome speech, and she realized, feeling her cheeks warm, her mind had wandered and she hadn’t paid close attention to what he’d said. Now he was introducing his adopted son, obviously a leader in high standing, an apostle named Fenton Webb.

  Tall, broad-shouldered, with flint black hair and ice blue eyes, Fenton Webb was an imposing figure, in some ways even more so than either Joseph Smith or Brigham Young.

  Mary Rose sat forward, intrigued.

  When the apostle began to speak, all other thoughts, of the long journey west, of her husband and the three little ones she now counted as her own, fell away.

  He smiled at the crowd in front of him. “Welcome to America,” he said. “And even better than that, welcome to Nauvoo, the beautiful city of God and his Saints.”

  He paused, his ice blue eyes seeming to gaze through to the souls of every individual in the room. “Whoever would have thought,” he said, “that a plain and ordinary farmer’s son would be chosen by God to be his prophet?

  “But Joseph was an ordinary boy, of no higher intelligence than most, but with perhaps more curiosity than most. Even as a boy he had many questions, the most important being which was the right church? Should I become a Baptist, he wondered, and if a Baptist, which Baptist? Or should I become an Episcopalian, or a Shaker, or a Methodist? What about the Catholics?

  “He knew enough, even as a young man, that if he asked preachers from any of these churches if they were the only right and true way to God, their answer would have been…” Webb grinned as he looked out over the congregation of Saints. “Of course, each would’ve said it was his own church that was the only church, the only true way to reach God. Isn’t that right, Saints?”

  Murmurs of agreement passed among the congregants.

  “Our Prophet took these questions to God, fell on his knees in the woods one day to plead with God to tell him which church was right. To his great astonishment—and this, dear Saints, is where the story gets interesting—a glorious light flooded the woods and poured over him. It was midday, and unable to believe his eyes, Joseph at first thought the light was surely sunlight washing through the leaves of the trees.”

  Webb paused, dropped his head as if in prayer, and when he looked up, Mary Rose thought his eyes were filled with tears. “Dear Saints, it was not the sunlight. It was as if the light emanated from a single point so bright Joseph had to shield his eyes. When he finally lifted his gaze, there before him, as if standing in a shell, were two people—as human in appearance as you and me. The Father and the Son, God and Christ, descended from heaven to bring him a message.”

  No one spoke until Ruby looked up and said, “I really have to go to the nethethary, Lady.”

  A few people close by chuckled, and Mary Rose cringed, expecting Webb to scowl at the interruption. But instead, he gave her a smile and a nod. “The necessary is sometimes…necessary for a little one. Though we try to make children aware of the solemnity of our meetings, you are newcomers, and our practices may take some getting used to. Please”—he gestured to the side door—“take the little one to the ‘necessary.’”

  Mary Rose took the twins by the hand, aware that every eye was upon her as she led them to the door.

  “Can girlth become propheth?” Ruby said as soon as they stepped outside. “If he wath juth an ordinary boy, couldn’t an ordinary girl be one too?”

  “That’s silly,” Pearl said, and then ran into the outhouse first and closed the door. “Everybody knows there aren’t any girl prophets,” she called out.

  “I want to thee the light in the woodth,” Ruby said thoughtfully, turning to look at the woodsy shallow hills around them, afire with the changing color of the leaves. She focused on a glimmering maple, its leaves the color of molten gold. “That lookth like a plathe God could come. Look at the pretty light.”

  “I want to see too,” Pearl said, flying back out of the outhouse again.

  “Over yonder,” Ruby said, then went into the necessary. “It thinkth in here,” she said. “Maketh me feel thick.”

  “Just hurry,” Mary Rose said, now impatient to get back to the story of the Prophet.

  A few minutes later, Mary Rose led them back into the meetinghouse. This time the apostle didn’t stop his oration or even seem to notice their return. She settled the girls and sat back, eager to hear more.

  “The Father and Son said to him, ‘Joseph, do not join any church, for all are abominations before God. Since the time of Christ, those who have claimed to be his rightful interpreters—the apostles, the priests, the popes, the ministers, the reverends, the fathers, everyone, brothers and sisters—have led astray God’s people from the true words and deeds of Jesus Christ.’”

  Webb stepped from behind the podium, his expression solemn. Mary Rose noticed that he did not preach with bulging eyes or shouted words about damnation and hell. Instead, his message, his delivery, was done with love, much the way she’d heard Joseph preached. She found her own eyes watering as she watched him.

  “‘Joseph,’ they said to him, ‘you are living in an era of great apostasy. My people have wandered from the Truth.’ Then all fell quiet in the woods. Even the birds stopped their singing. Not a leaf fell from a tree. Not a whisper of wind.

  “He remained on his knees, his head bent in worship. For how long? To this day, he cannot say. But the next words spoken to him struck his heart: ‘The time has come for the Church’s
restoration, and you are to be my messenger.’

  “I ask you, if this had happened to any one of you, what would you have done? Would you have run away, thinking God surely was mistaken, that he had chosen the wrong young man?”

  Webb chuckled. “That’s what Joseph did, dear Saints. He ran away and tried to forget the entire time spent with God the Father and his Son Jesus. He even went so far as to become full of disbelief.” He smiled again and winked at Coal. “I would have done the same at that age, had I been there. Joseph was just a boy; he had some growing up to do.

  “When he was seventeen something else extraordinary happened to him. One night as he lay sleeping, an angel by the name of Moroni appeared by his bedside. He told Joseph that buried in a hillside near Palmyra was a set of golden plates, on which was written an ancient language. The angel of the Lord told him to go and find these plates and deliver them to man. Those were his words, ‘deliver them to man.’ Brothers and sisters, Joseph was stubborn—just as stubborn as I’m sure I would have been, or perhaps many of us would have been.” He smiled at the congregation. “Moroni appeared to Joseph three times before he would listen.”

  “Ith an angel gonna come bethide my bed?” Ruby whispered.

  “Shhhh,” Pearl said equally loud.

  Coal turned around from his seat across the aisle and made a face, causing the twins to giggle. Gabe put his arm around the boy and gently turned him forward again.

  The apostle stopped in the middle of his message and let that engaging smile beam across the congregation.

  “Now that, sisters and brothers, is how God handled Joseph when he wouldn’t listen. Did you all just see what our Brother Gabriel did? He put his arm around his errant son and turned him gently around.

  “That’s love, pure and simple. And that’s how God turned Joseph around, got him to rethink all he’d revealed to him…”

  Mary Rose watched Gabe’s reaction. There was an emotion, an expression she hadn’t seen in him before. Adoration for the Prophet and his teachings as told through this charming apostle? A sense of pride in his actions being used as an example of God’s actions? She waited for him to turn around again and make eye contact, but he seemed so enthralled with the story about the golden plates, the thought must not have occurred to him.

  She tried not to let it bother her, but she couldn’t help it. She turned to Bronwyn to see if she noticed. But she seemed as enthralled as Gabe did.

  Her heart twisted in a way it hadn’t before when she moved her gaze once more to Gabe.

  The expression remained.

  The apostle stood behind the podium, his voice clear and pleasant, his expression loving. “Our great Prophet finally did as he was told, and he found the plates. He took them home and translated them.” Apostle Webb held up the Book of Mormon. “And this, dear Saints, is named such because it was brought to you and to me by Mormon’s son, the angel Moroni.”

  He placed the book on the podium and, pulling out his handkerchief, mopped his forehead. “There is much more to the story of our beginnings, and we will spend weeks, yea, years studying these words, learning what God has to say to his restored Church. And we will learn from it how to share the love God has placed in our hearts.”

  Mary Rose again waited for her husband to glance back with a smile or a wink…any acknowledgment that she was in the same room with him. But his gaze was firmly fixed on the Prophet’s adopted son.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Fenton Webb stepped down from the platform and, looking out over the men on his left, said, “Because you are all newcomers, you may not understand our order of service. Each Sunday it will be the same. After I speak to you about what God has put in my heart for you to hear, our sisters will be excused to retire to the ladies’ meeting, and the children to their classes. And I, or one of the other elders or apostles, will remain with you men to continue preparing you for the priesthood.

  “Today, the Prophet himself has a revelation of the utmost importance to tell you, and because it is a revelation for those in the priesthood only, I’m going to ask boys under the age of twelve to leave, please, with their mothers.”

  Coal scurried toward Mary Rose looking disappointed. Something didn’t sit right about all this. What could he reveal from God that a boy could not hear? For that matter, that wives couldn’t hear?

  She was still considering what the revelation could mean when she looked up to meet the Prophet’s intense blue-gray eyes. It was as if he knew she wasn’t happy about being excluded from the revelation. She stared at him for a long moment, wondering about the priesthood of the men and why the messages she’d received from God came through Gabe and no other.

  Even as she turned with the children to make her way down the aisle toward the door, she had that prickly feeling that the Prophet still had his eyes on her.

  The Prophet waited while the women and children filed through the door. Mary Rose was among the last to leave, and Gabe knew she did so reluctantly. He caught her eye just before she turned to step outside the building and gave her another wink and slight nod. She treated him to that tiny smile he loved. This was so new to them both, but he was certain they would all adjust. After all, they’d been in Nauvoo less than one week. As soon as she disappeared outside, one of the elders closed the door.

  The Prophet again returned to the podium. “I received the following word from the Lord,” he said. “And until the time is right, word of it cannot leave this room. You are not to speak of it to your wives, for God needs to prepare their hearts to hear his words.”

  He unfolded a written document, and began to read:

  “‘Verily, thus saith the Lord unto you my servant Joseph, that inasmuch as you have inquired of my hand to know and understand wherein I, the Lord, justified my servants Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, as also Moses, David, and Solomon, my servants, as touching the principle and doctrine of their having many wives—

  “‘Behold, and lo, I am the Lord thy God, and will answer thee as touching this matter.

  “‘Therefore, prepare thy heart to receive and obey the instructions which I am about to give unto you; for all those who have this law revealed unto them must obey the same.’”

  Gabe sat forward, his heart pounding. There had been rumors of plural marriages among the Church leaders, but this was the first concrete evidence it existed. He’d dismissed the reports, just as most other Saints had, rumors spread by the Gentiles to fire up the populace against them. Surely he wasn’t hearing correctly. How could this be?

  The Prophet continued: “‘For behold, I reveal unto you a new and an everlasting covenant; and if ye abide not that covenant, then are ye damned; for no one can reject this covenant and be permitted to enter into my glory…’”

  Damned? Gabe’s eyes widened. The revelation wasn’t just giving permission; it was an order. From God. Griffin was sitting two rows up, and Gabe would have given anything to know his thoughts right then. He’d been in the Church longer, maybe he had greater wisdom about the revelations than Gabe did.

  “‘And again, verily I say unto you, if a man marry a wife by my word, which is my law, and by the new and everlasting covenant, they shall pass by the angels, and the gods, which are set there, to their exaltation…

  “‘Then shall they be gods, because they have no end…’”

  Gabe sat in stunned silence as the Prophet stepped from behind the podium and walked over to stand in front of the group. “I know this may be difficult to understand right now. It is for me, and I have been on my knees pleading with God to make certain I heard him correctly.

  “Brothers, the answer is yes, I did receive this revelation without error. As you can imagine, it will be a difficult revelation for our wives to hear, for they will balk at sharing you with another. But let me be clear. This is not about simply taking more wives for the sake of variety. God forbid!

  He took a few steps closer, and his voice dropped. “God himself was once as we are now, and is an exalted man. It is the same for
each of us, brothers. Our glory in the next world will be determined by the knowledge we gain in this world and the excellence of our works upon the earth. If you enter heaven with ten wives you will have tenfold the glory of a man with one, and your advance toward progress, toward godhood, would be ten times as rapid as that of the man who’s been blind to the truth upon the earth.

  “Think on these things, brothers, and keep them to yourselves until the time is right.

  “Now let’s close in prayer.”

  Gabe’s heart pounded against his chest, and he thought he might not be able to draw in another breath.

  His first thought was not about himself but about Mary Rose. How could he do this to her?

  His second thought was about godhood. Did he hear the Prophet correctly? Man could become a god? Could that be true?

  Mary Rose offered a smile to the woman seated next to her at the women’s meeting. She was young, round-faced, holding a baby maybe ten months old in her arms, and she was expecting another. For a moment, Bronwyn, who was seated on the opposite side of Mary Rose, and the young mother traded stories about childbirth and raising babies. “I should have said so earlier,” the young woman said, “but my name is Polly McGuire, and this is Maevie.”

  Mary Rose relished the time to get to know some of the Saints better. The twins discovered friends their age as soon as the earlier meeting adjourned, and had gone with them to find their classroom. Coal had raced along with some boys he’d spotted, and Mary Rose could hear their wild whoops and hollers. She whispered a prayer for their teacher, hoping he had imminent patience.

  As they waited for the other women to be seated, Polly looked around as if to be sure they weren’t overheard and then, behind her hand, whispered, “You know what the revelation is all about, don’t you?”

  Mary Rose and Bronwyn exchanged glances, then Mary Rose turned back to Polly.

  “I have no idea,” she said. “Do you?”