The Veil Page 24

  When she finished, Ellie stood in front of the two men, hands on hips, shaking her head slowly. “My goodness,” she said. “I do believe you boys better stay out of that saloon from now on. These Laramie folks aren’t as friendly as some of the Indians we’ve met along the way.”

  “Believe me, Ellie, we didn’t go in there hankering to fight,” Alexander said. “Fact is, these ruffians came after us. Call themselves the Missouri Wildcats.”

  “I don’t believe they wanted to let me out of there alive. Again, I’m much obliged to you for coming to my assistance.”

  Ellie pulled up another chair. “Why would they come after you?”

  He gave her a long, assessing look before answering. “I don’t know, ma’am,” he said finally.

  “Where you headed?” Alexander asked, sitting forward.

  The young man looked wary, as if weighing how much to tell. He settled back, turning his hat brim in his hands thoughtfully. “I’m headed west, to Utah Territory.”

  “You’re Mormon.” There was no question in Alexander’s tone; Ellie knew he must have decided before he spoke.

  Ellie waited for Lucas to answer, but he sat still, turning his hat and watching her husband with that same wariness on his face she’d noted earlier.

  “You saved my life back there,” he said finally. “There’s no need, I suppose, for me to beat around the bush with someone who’d lay his own life on the line to save my skin.” He suddenly grinned. “You saved me once, and though some might disagree with your decision, I doubt you’d kill me just because I call myself a Saint.”

  Alexander nodded slowly. “You’re safe here, son, no matter what your beliefs.”

  Lucas drew in a deep breath. “The thugs in the saloon were right. Troops are readying to march west out of Leavenworth. Some two thousand. I’m heading back to warn Brigham and the others.”

  “How soon do you think the troops will get to Utah?” Alexander asked.

  “Surprisingly enough, the reports are that they’re in no hurry. It’ll probably take several months. Some say not until after the first of the year.

  Alexander looked thoughtful. “Is there a rebellion? Is Buchanan right to have sent them?”

  “There’s no rebellion,” Lucas Knight said, but Ellie thought he looked uncomfortable with the question. He shifted his eyes away from Alexander’s, and glanced at Ellie. “Where’re you folks headed?” he asked.

  “We’re going to California,” Ellie told him with a warm smile. “Not sure north or south yet. But the captain promises me it’ll be near the ocean.”

  Lucas frowned and leaned forward. He stared at the fire for a few minutes then looked back to Alexander. “You plan to bypass Utah,” he said.

  “You just got through saying there’s no rebellion,” Alexander reminded him. “And the coming war sounds like it’s months away”

  Lucas Knight glanced at Ellie then back to Alexander, as if it seemed he wanted to say more, but instead he remained silent.

  “We’re running late,” the captain said. “It’s nearly the end of July, and we should’ve passed Independence Rock on the fourth. If we can’t recover some of that lost time, we’ll need to take the southern route into California. Head south on the Old Spanish Trail.”

  Lucas Knight stood and walked over by the fire, then turned again to them, his hands clasped behind him. Above them now the stars were a canopy of spangled pinpoints in a deep navy blue sky. “It might be better to spend the winter at Fort Bridger—anywhere—then cross the Sierras in the spring.”

  “We don’t have the supplies to do that,” the captain said, shaking his head and thoughtfully assessing the young man. “We’ve got nine hundred head of cattle to feed, five hundred horses. They’ll die unless we can get grain for the winter—or get them over the Sierras and into California. And the little children, the old folks …” he hesitated. “I fear they couldn’t last through a winter of deprivation.”

  Lucas Knight didn’t respond.

  “Unless,” Alexander went on, “unless we winter at Salt Lake, buy grain from your people.”

  “I would avoid wintering there,” Lucas said quietly.

  “Why the warning?”

  Ellie broke in, “Does it have anything to do with our train being from Arkansas?”

  Both men looked at her, puzzled.

  She hurried to explain, “I heard that a man was murdered in Arkansas a few months back …” The young man looked surprised. “Do you know of it?” Ellie asked.

  He shook his head. “I hadn’t heard anything about it. Did you say he was murdered?”

  Ellie nodded and told him the sketchy details of what she’d heard. She felt weary and troubled as she spoke.

  “I don’t know that one train is any safer than another in a time of war,” he said finally. “And this is a time of war. Again, I beseech you to make your detour.”

  “I will mind your words, son,” Alexander said thoughtfully. “But when we arrive at Fort Bridger, we may not have a choice.”

  The two men went on to discuss the trail ahead, and Alexander invited the young man to join up with them at least as far as South Pass. Ellie thought Lucas Knight was going to decline, but he surprised them both by saying yes, he’d be pleased to spend a few days on the road with them. After a few more minutes, he stood and shook hands with the captain then nodded to Ellie.

  “Thank you for your kind ministrations,” he said to her. “Your gentle spirit reminds me of those I’ve left back home.”

  “I’m glad you’ll be spending more time with us,” Ellie said, sensing some deep sadness in the young man’s words. “The trail can be lonely, I would think, when you’re riding alone.”

  “I’ll see you at daybreak,” Lucas Knight said as he turned and walked into the darkness.

  “Good night,” Alexander and Ellie called after him.

  By the time Alexander laid out their pallets by the night fire, Ellie had decided to keep to herself the afternoon’s bout of pain and her need for more rest. Her uneasiness about heading through Utah Territory far outweighed her concern about her pain and bone weariness.

  “Alexander—?” she murmured as they were about to fall asleep. “Hmmm?” he breathed.

  She propped herself up on her elbow, watching him in the starlight and in the dying embers of the fire. His face was leaner than when they left Arkansas, and now even in his state of half-sleep, she could see him working his jaw. She touched his cheek gently, thinking of how she loved him. He opened his eyes and met her gaze.

  “Alexander,” she said, thinking of all she wanted to say about her fear of what lay ahead, of her pain and worry about having the baby in a safe place, of not wanting to head through Utah Territory. But Alexander felt the weight of his captaincy heavy these days, even heavier now, she knew, since tonight’s conversation with the young Mormon man.

  So she smiled, tracing her fingers lightly along his jaw. “I love you,” she whispered finally. “That’s what I wanted to tell you. I just wanted to say I love you, my dearest.”

  Alexander reached over, drawing her into his arms, and kissed her tenderly. Ellie snuggled up against him and closed her eyes, listening to the deep thud of his heart and taking comfort in his nearness.

  The following morning, as usual, rifles were fired into the air well before dawn, signaling the group to begin preparations for another day. The sleepy camp came to life, the travelers pouring out of their tents and wagons, setting their breakfast fires, eating, packing, hitching teams to wagons, and pulling into line. By now there were few stragglers; most in the company had learned if they were late with their morning preparations, they would find themselves at the rear of the long, dusty caravan.

  Alexander had just finished hitching the oxen team to the wagon and was riding to the front of the caravan several wagons forward when Lucas Knight rode up. He nodded to Ellie, seated on the bench, and to the twins hanging out of the canvas opening behind her.

  “Ma’am,” he said, tippin
g his hat.

  “How’s that head?” she asked, noticing the swelling had gone down somewhat.

  “Much better,” he said with a grin. His horse whinnied and danced sideways a few steps. “Thanks to you.”

  “Mommy, who’s that man?” Meg asked, looking up at him, wrinkling her nose.

  “Phoebe wants to know too,” Sarah added, the tip of a dark braid in her mouth.

  Before Ellie could answer, Lucas laughed and moved the horse closer to the wagon. “My name’s Lucas Knight,” he said and gave them each a gentlemanly nod. “And who, might I ask, are you beautiful ladies?”

  Meg giggled. “Well, I’m Meg, and my sister’s name is Sarah.”

  “Meg and Sarah, I’m pleased to make your acquaintance. Pleased indeed.” He tipped his hat again.

  “And this is Phoebe,” Sarah said, thrusting the doll toward him. “She lived with the Indians for a while.”

  He looked surprised, and Ellie laughed. “Actually, it’s true.” And she told him the story about Phoebe’s mishap in the Arkansas River and her surprising reappearance with the band of Indians. Lucas listened appreciatively, and Ellie sensed that his wariness was lessening. He seemed to have an immediate affection for the twins, and they for him. By the time he’d moved forward to ride with Alexander at the head of the train, the little girls were whining to get their ponies from the herd and ride with Lucas and their papa.

  The sky was just turning silver-pink in the east when the caravan of wagons was ready to roll. The herd moved out first, then the wagons, one by one.

  Lucas Knight rode with the Farrington train for nearly a week before he knew it was time to head on alone. On his last night with the group, he joined Ellie and the captain for supper.

  “I’ll be leaving in the morning,” he said as Ellie filled his plate with beans and fresh-roasted buffalo steak.

  “I figured we were probably moving too slow for you, son,” Alexander said as Ellie filled his plate. He rested one booted foot on the wagon tongue, propping his plate on his knee as he ate.

  Nearby, Becky, Louisa, and Prudence Angeline O’Donnell sat giggling with Sarah and Meg. Phoebe, the worn, dirt-smudged doll, was propped up beside Sarah with her own pretend plate of food.

  Lucas looked around at the wagon camp, at the families now mostly sitting and eating in groups, the children talking and laughing as they ate. Later, the harmonicas and fiddles would appear, and there would be singing and dancing for them all, young and old.

  In many ways, he hated to leave them. They were good people, surprising him that they had no feelings one way or the other about Mormons; they had accepted him without question about who he was, where he’d come from, or what he believed. The captain had shown him respect, and Ellie seemed ready to welcome him into their family.

  Watching them together sometimes made him think of Hannah. The captain and Ellie seemed to have a courting kind of love after—what did they tell him?—nearly twenty years of marriage. He noticed it when their eyes met, sometimes over some silly word that one of their children uttered, or as they just exchanged a loving glance when they thought no one was watching.

  He might not have noticed, except for the empty place in his heart that was meant for Hannah alone. And he wondered if he and Hannah would ever have a chance to marry and share the kind of love he’d seen in the Farringtons.

  Lucas could see for all her brave spirit that Ellie Farrington wasn’t well. Her ankles and wrists were heavy with swelling, and her breathing seemed labored when she walked. He often caught Alexander watching her tenderly, his anxiety apparent, but neither of them complained.

  After supper that last night, Alexander got out his mandolin and started to play softly. Before long, the wagon company had fallen quiet, listening. A warm and gentle breeze carried through camp, bringing the lowing and soft bawling of the distant herd.

  And as folks stood in twos and threes, and sometimes more, to dance, the sight etched itself into Lucas’s soul. John Steele had taught him to believe that the Gentiles thought of the Mormons as vile objects of their hatred.

  He looked over at Ellie, swaying to her husband’s sweet music, arms folded protectively across the shelf created by the baby she carried, and he went over to her.

  “Ellie—?”

  She looked up.

  “Would you care to dance?”

  She smiled, and for a moment her weariness faded. “I would like nothing better, dear Lucas,” she said as he swept her gently into his arms.

  They moved to the music of Alexander playing “Jeanie with the Light Brown Hair.”

  “We’ll miss you when you go,” she said.

  He turned her in time to the music. “You all have been good to let me join up with you.”

  “I can’t believe that God didn’t lead you to us,” Ellie said, looking up at him.

  He almost stopped dancing, meeting her calm gaze.

  “Nothing happens by accident, you know,” she went on. “He’s got us all right in the center of his hand. It’s his love that keeps us there.”

  “I don’t think it’s that easy,” Lucas said, turning her gently as they danced.

  She surprised him by laughing. “I agree. I would imagine there are times when God has a hard time loving us.”

  “That’s not what I meant. He requires certain things of us to be accepted into his kingdom.”

  “You mean we have to work to earn his love?”

  Lucas nodded thoughtfully. “I’ve never thought about his love being part of it. But, yes, we have to work to be accepted by him. Period. That’s what I meant.”

  “To earn our place in his heart,” she persisted.

  “Yes,” Lucas said.

  “But God says he’s loved us with an everlasting love,” she said. “If it’s everlasting, how can he put a condition on it? How can he make us earn it?”

  “I believe God has certain requirements,” he said. “Requirements that make us righteous and holy … acceptable in his sight.”

  “What are they, Lucas?”

  He fell silent, knowing full well he couldn’t tell a Gentile about vengeance and blood atonement. She wasn’t one of God’s chosen elite. She wasn’t a Saint. She wouldn’t understand.

  “Christ’s robe of righteousness wrapped around us—around the worst of who we are—is what makes us holy in God’s sight,” she said softly.

  “There are parts of the Bible that weren’t translated properly,” he told her. “What you’re saying about God’s love and Christ’s robe of righteousness is simply mankind’s way of taking the easy way out. That removes responsibility for our actions.”

  “Easy way out?” She paused. “What I’m talking about isn’t an easy road. It’s about loving others the way God loves us. It’s about forgiving others the way he’s forgiven us. Yes, he does require something harsh from us, but he gives us something invaluable in return.”

  Lucas thought that perhaps she’d get around to seeing that nothing in life was free, especially from God. “What is it he requires, in your view?” he asked.

  She smiled again. “Your life, Lucas.”

  “My life?” He’d heard that before … from John Steele and the Avenging Angels, the Church and its priesthood. All of them wanting to own him—body, soul, and spirit. “And God promises in return—-?

  “His life in us. He gives to us from the abundance of all he is. Above and beyond anything the world has to offer. Love, peace, joy, grace, forgiveness.” Her face seemed to glow with the thought of such gifts. “And we—because he is in us—obey his commandment about loving others as ourselves. We give to others from our heart’s abundance.”

  Lucas stopped dancing. “I don’t see how that’s possible.”

  “I suppose it isn’t, humanly, at least.” Around them the music played on, the stars shone brightly, and the night fires by the wagons died to golden embers.

  “A God of love,” Lucas mused as he led Ellie back to her wagon. He stopped suddenly. “What about when me
n hate you, cause you pain and suffering? What then?” He was thinking of the persecution of the Saints, of Haun’s Mill and his mother and father. His baby brother.

  “Do you mean will I be able to forgive … to extend the same grace to others that God extends to me?”

  He saw the earnestness in her face, and though his question had been for himself, he knew Ellie was thinking of her own circumstances. Perhaps considering her fears about the future of her children, her unborn infant.

  “Yes,” he said. “That’s what I’m asking.”

  She looked up at the heavens for several moments then back to him. With a small smile, she said. “I don’t know about tomorrow, Lucas. I only know that I—and my family, born and unborn—rest in God’s hands. His loving hands. What he’ll require of me I can’t know. I only know where I rest right now.”

  He didn’t respond, and after a moment, she said, “Will we see you in the morning before you leave?”

  “I’ll stop and say good-bye.” Lucas started to leave, then turned to face her again. “Thank you, Ellie, for speaking forthrightly.”

  She nodded. “God be with you, Lucas Knight. You’re already in my prayers, you know …” She gave him a quick smile. “… just as you are already in God’s hand.”

  Away from the firelight, the stars shone even brighter than before. Lucas walked out into the grassy field beyond the camp, toward a small creek that fed into the wide and muddy North Platte a distance away. He stood there for a moment, considering the star-spangled sky … the God who created it all.

  And he thought about Ellie’s faith, a faith that his doctrine told him was false. He frowned. If he was so convinced it was false, then why was he drawn to such a God as she described?

  Why did this God seem to be drawing Lucas to himself? And had been long before Lucas met up with the Farrington company?

  What was it Ellie said … that God loved him with an everlasting love?

  He looked deep into the heavens above him, almost becoming lost in its depths. Could there be but one God? What about the others? What about his own desire to become deity? Then it was as if a quiet presence joined his thoughts, and he almost stopped breathing as he listened.