The Veil Page 31

  Farrington, now riding again, kept his gaze straight forward as if weighing Lucas’s proposition. “How do we know they won’t want it all—and we’ll still not be guaranteed safe passage?”

  “It might be your only hope of getting through alive.”

  Farrington glanced at Lucas sharply. It was the first time that physical danger had been mentioned. “We’re not the enemy,” he said.

  “Most people think the enemy is any Gentile.”

  They rode in silence for a few minutes. “I’m not going to give up what is rightfully ours,” the captain finally said. “Not gold or silver or arms. You can ride back and report what I’ve said.”

  “Sir, you’re making a mistake. They plan to take whatever wealth you’ve got anyway. I was sent here to find out how much you’ve got and where it’s hidden.”

  “We’re well armed, and we’re prepared to fight, if necessary.” Farrington looked at him, puzzled. “I’ve been through Utah Territory before and found the people peaceful and hospitable. How can that have changed?”

  “You’re still not convinced of the danger, are you?”

  “Your people are made up of families—children and couples and old folks—just as we are. Some were probably born in our hometowns. Your war is with the United States government, not with us.”

  Lucas knew he wasn’t going to convince the captain. Finally, he nodded. “I promise to try to negotiate on your behalf—without the gold or silver.”

  “Do what you can, son,” the captain replied. “But we have no choice. We must take this route.”

  Lucas stayed with the Farrington company as the caravan continued making its way through Emigrant’s Gap and snaked across the valley to a campsite just east of Salt Lake. That night after the wagoners had moved their rigs into place and supper was finished, Lucas spotted Ellie and the children.

  Ellie greeted him warmly. “Alexander told me you’d joined us, Lucas. I’m glad to see you.” The twins wrapped their arms around him then ran off to find the wooden flute he’d carved for Meg. He walked with Ellie to a chair so she could sit. Her breathing seemed labored, and he noticed she didn’t look well.

  She settled her back against the chair, closed her eyes for a minute, then gave him a weary smile. “I didn’t think I’d see you again until we got to California.”

  “Things didn’t work out quite as I had planned.”

  She smiled. “Right now, it seems to me they never do.”

  He knew she spoke of their trek through Utah. “I remember your telling me that because God’s got us in his hand … nothing’s an accident.”

  “He allows things to happen,” Ellie agreed. “Things beyond our control.” She frowned and reached for Lucas’s hand, held it gently, and patted it. “You went back to get your Hannah and her aunt—is that what didn’t work out?”

  He told Ellie about John Steele, explained how the man had saved his life and how he and Harriet had adopted him years before. He concluded by saying, “John Steele took Hannah as his wife while I was away.”

  “But you said he and his wife raised you?”

  “He has more than one.”

  “Oh, Lucas!” Ellie said. “Then it was against Hannah’s will.”

  “Yes.”

  Before she could comment further, Meg and Sarah ran up with the flute. Lucas grinned and sat a girl on either side of him. “All right, now watch carefully.” He lifted the flute to his lips and began to play an Irish jig. Soon some of the other children had gathered around him and were clapping and dancing.

  Then Lucas showed Meg how to do the fingering for “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.” She followed his lead and very slowly played the little tune.

  “I want to try. Let me!” Sarah cried, reaching for the toy. “Huh-uh, it’s mine,” Meg said, twisting her shoulders away from her sister.

  Ellie scolded Meg for her selfishness, and Meg reluctantly handed the flute to Sarah. But before she could play one note, Lucas pulled another small flute from his pocket.

  “I thought you might want to play together,” he said.

  Sarah caught her hand to her mouth. “The rocking horse belongs to Phoebe, you know,” she said sweetly. “And Phoebe doesn’t share.”

  “Then this will be yours and only yours,” he said, placing the wooden instrument in her hand. After a few more minutes, both girls were playing “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” and leading the rest of the children out to play like little pied pipers.

  “You’re so good with them—you should have a dozen of your own, you know,” Ellie said.

  “Children?” Lucas laughed. Then he sobered, thinking of Hannah.

  “You must still try to get her out.”

  “I won’t leave without her.” He frowned, and Ellie seemed to read his mind. “But she says she won’t leave with me.”

  “She’s afraid you won’t love her after what’s happened.”

  He nodded, comforted somehow by her quick understanding. “Hannah hasn’t said that. She wouldn’t. But I know her well. It’s in her mind.”

  Ellie looked thoughtful for a moment. “Lucas, could we help get her out—get you both out?”

  “It would be dangerous for you.” He paused. “But I’ve been thinking the same thing. Hannah and Sophronia are at John Steele’s ranch near where you’re heading in the south of the territory. Not far from there, wagon companies rest and prepare for their journey across the desert. It’s called Mountain Meadows.”

  “Can you get them to us?”

  “I’m going to speak to the Church authorities to see if I can escort you through the territory. If they agree, I’ll be with you—at least long enough to see that Hannah and Sophie are safely among your numbers.”

  “Maybe that’s why God has led us this way,” Ellie said softly. “The more I ponder the strange reasons for life’s twists and turns, the more I think that God’s direction has more to do with the miracle of changed lives than with anything else.”

  “You’ve taught me a lot already about your God.”

  “He’s your God, too, Lucas,” Ellie said. When he didn’t answer, she went on. “I’m looking forward to making Hannah’s acquaintance. I feel I know her already.”

  Later that night, Lucas rode into the valley and headed straight to Porter Roe’s house. The moon was still bright enough to travel by, and as Lucas approached the house, he was struck by its elegance. It was an imposing two-story, not nearly the size of the Prophet’s mansions, but impressive nonetheless. One of Roe’s wives met him at the door and ushered him inside. The place smelled of fresh-baked bread and was filled with the commotion of a lively group of women and their multitude of children.

  “Did you get the information we need?” Roe said after they were seated in his lavish front parlor. It was the one place in the house where the children weren’t allowed.

  “No,” he said, “I didn’t. I spoke at length with Captain Farrington, and he’s clearly stated that they have nothing to do with the coming war. They’re merely a group of families—children …” Lucas gestured toward the rest of Porter’s house, still alive with children’s voices and laughter. “They want nothing more than to travel safely through as quickly as possible.”

  “You’ve warned them that they’re entering hostile territory?”

  “Of course.”

  “That wasn’t your mission, Lucas.”

  Lucas ignored his statement. “I’m here to plead with you on their behalf. Let them travel safely through. I’ll escort the train if you’re concerned with the actions of the settlements along the way.”

  “That is a concern. Brother Brigham has already sent a messenger along the route, saying that no one is to provide grain or food of any kind to this group. No assistance whatsoever.” His cold gaze flicked across Lucas’s face. “Brigham feels strongly about this, son. The order couldn’t be clearer: Anyone found trading with or selling to this train will be severely punished. That tells you what Brigham thinks of this particular Arkansas tra
in.”

  “They need supplies to make it to California. We’ve always been more than willing to sell to emigrants.”

  “We are at war.”

  “These people are not the enemy.”

  “All Gentiles are our enemy.”

  “Let this train go through peaceably,” he said. “They have done nothing to us … against us.”

  Roe stood and moved to the front window. He pulled back the heavy velvet curtain and peered out. Lucas could hear the distant sound of hoofbeats approaching. From the sound of it, there were several riders. The horsemen dismounted, then approached the Roe house, and Lucas recognized their voices. He knew them well. He had heard them many times as he rode with them through the midnight darkness.

  By now Roe had turned back to Lucas. “It’s clear tonight that you’ve softened toward the Gentiles. Do you remember the vows of priesthood you took—long before your Danite oath?”

  Lucas nodded, and with a sinking feeling, knew he’d walked into a trap. He glanced to the open doorway, calculating his chances for escape. But he was too late; it was now filled with the men who’d come to discover the outcome of his mission.

  “You have taken both the vows of holy priesthood and the Danite oath.” He paused, and a mantel clock ticked loudly. The only other sound was that of quiet breathing from the Avenging Angels, now circling him like wild animals watching their prey.

  “I have,” answered Lucas.

  “Then what has turned you into a Judas, son?” When Lucas started to speak to defend himself, Roe held up a hand to stop him, and his voice dropped menacingly. “You cannot plead ignorance. You know that Judases are trodden under the feet of the Church and trampled until their bowels spill.

  “Are you a Judas, Lucas Knight?” he asked again. “There are those of us here who believe you are.”

  Lucas stared silently at the men.

  “Are you willing to stand up with your Church against our enemies?” Roe continued. “Are you willing to avenge the deaths of our Prophet, Joseph Smith, and the apostle Phineas Potts?”

  Still, Lucas didn’t answer.

  “Are you willing to carry out acts of vengeance against this train?”

  “You speak of blood atonement?” Lucas asked quietly. The images of Alexander and Ellie, feisty Meg and sweet Sarah suddenly appeared before him. The coming baby. The families that made up the company. He pictured them all. They danced under the starlit skies, singing, playing banjos, fiddles, and harmonicas. The twins whistled through their flutes and giggled and played with Phoebe, the doll that had once lived with the Indians.

  “Yes,” Porter Roe said. “That’s exactly what I speak of.” And the men stared at Lucas, awaiting his answer.

  “No,” Lucas said quietly. “I cannot take vengeance on this train. These people are not our enemy.”

  “Take him,” said Roe bitterly to the men. “Get him out of my sight. He is Judas himself, an abomination before God.”

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Salt Lake Valley

  At sunrise, Alexander, Abe Barrett, and most of the men in the company rode out toward the herd to hold council about the coming days on the trail. The cowhands waited as the herd grazed in the distance.

  “Men,” the captain began, “there’s some hard riding ahead. But before we move out, we’ve got to get into town for supplies. From what I’ve heard, these folks may not think too kindly of us because of the coming war. I don’t think it’s as bad as our young Lucas makes it out to be, but nonetheless, we’ll need to be cautious. I suggest we send families, so we don’t appear too threatening. And a few at a time, so as not to overwhelm them with our numbers.”

  The men nodded in agreement, and a few commented about who should go first. Some were skeptical about letting the women and children go in alone.

  “Ellie’s planning to go in this morning. And Liza said she’d go with her.” He looked at Abe, who confirmed it with a nod. “My children will go with them. Abe, you’re going along as well?”

  Abe nodded. “I’ll be driving. And providing protection,” he said, patting the rifle at his side.

  “I must stay in camp. Lucas Knight said he’d arrange for me to speak to some of the Church leaders today—perhaps Brigham Young himself. He says maybe if we can show ourselves as peaceable we’ll be able to get through the territory without assault.”

  Abe nodded toward the eastern horizon. “Looks like we got company,” he said.

  Alexander turned to watch the riders heading toward them. “Jakes and Graves. They must be getting nervous now that we’re among the Mormons. They’ve made no bones about how they feel.”

  A few minutes later, Red Jakes and Matthias Graves reined their horses to a halt by the group and dismounted.

  “You’ve kept your distance,” Alexander said. “Appreciate you folks paying mind to our request.”

  Red Jakes grunted a reply, and Graves stepped forward to do the talking. “We been talkin’ about what we’re up against,” he said, kicking some mud off his boot. “I know you wanted no part of it when we talked in Laramie, but now that we’re here—both parties of us in the same predicament—we’re thinkin’ we oughta join forces.”

  Abe and Alexander exchanged glances. “As I recall, you were quite free-spoken about your hatred of the Saints,” Alexander said. “My worry is that if any of your group dares to mention—even in jest—that they were in on the killing of Joseph Smith, you’ll put the nails in all our coffins.”

  “We was just havin’ some fun. Fact is, we never had anything to do with their Prophet’s killin’. Besides, we spoke the way we did because we know the evil that lurks in some of these so-called Saints,” said Jakes. “A body’d have to be pretty dull-witted to say such a thing here. Far as we see it, we’re in enemy territory, and we’re outnumbered. There ain’t one in our party who’d disagree.”

  “No sir,” added Graves. “We got people among us who’ve seen firsthand the skill of a Mormon who can scalp. Dress him up in war paint, and he’s as mean as any Apache you’d ever wanna see.”

  “Mormons aren’t the only white men to scalp,” said Alexander. “It’s white men who taught it to the Indians.”

  “Never mind who taught who what,” said Jakes, removing his hat and scratching his fringe of hair. “It’s the fact of it that matters. We’re sayin’ we’d all be better off joinin’ up,” said Jakes. “Protectin’ each other.”

  “You’re sure you can control your party?” Alexander asked. Around him he could hear the men discussing the proposal. He glanced at Abe, who gave him an imperceptible shrug.

  Reverend Brown moved to the front of the group. “We can’t bring added danger to our company just to provide you with protection,” he said, frowning. “You did nothing but cause trouble back at Laramie. We’ve heard how you carry on at the night fire. You’re anything but quiet. You say the wrong thing in the wrong place, and you’ll be getting more than yourselves killed.”

  Alexander nodded in agreement. “You tried to kill that young man back at Laramie. What’re you going to do if you run into him—or someone like him—along the trail? Can you keep your mouths shut?”

  “My friend here said it best,” Graves said solemnly. “We seen firsthand the brutality of the Saints. Believe me, none of us will say a word till we’re outa the territory.” He cleared his throat and took off his hat. “We’re askin’ you, pure and simple: Please, allow us to join up. We’ll circle with you at night for protection, but the rest of the time, we’ll keep our distance.”

  Alexander finally agreed. “We’ll allow you to pull up into the circle, and you can ride closer during the day.” He narrowed his eyes at the men. “But the first time anyone in your group utters a derogatory remark to or about a Mormon man, woman, or child, we’ll toss you to the wolves. You understand?”

  “Yes sir,” said Graves, echoed by Jakes. “Yes sir, we do. And thank you. We’ll not be a minute’s trouble.”

  The men mounted and rode back to their party.<
br />
  “I don’t know if you made the right decision,” Reverend Brown said to Alexander on their return ride to the wagons. “Something tells me those Missourians have the right intentions, but …” His voice dropped off as he shrugged.

  “The spirit’s willing, but the flesh is weak,” Abe finished for him, riding on Alexander’s other side.

  Reverend Brown grinned. “Something like that.” Then he sobered. “But I mean what I said. I think we’re heading into some difficult days. There’s a spirit of darkness here.”

  Alexander slowed the Appaloosa to a walk, glancing over at him. “What do you mean?”

  “As we came by some of the smaller settlements, women were watching us through closed curtains. I could tell they were afraid to come out and have a real look at us. I saw little children with terrified looks on their faces, scurrying into the houses. Now, why would that be?”

  “They’re expecting troops to come in and take over their land. They’re afraid of being kicked out of their kingdom, the same as happened before,” Abe said, drawing his horse up even with theirs.

  “But surely they could see we’re not an army. Anything but, with our squalling babies and laughing children and barking dogs,” Reverend Brown said.

  Alexander chuckled. “I’m hoping those laughing children and barking dogs will get us through the territory.” Alive, he didn’t add aloud, but it was in his mind. He glanced at the other men’s sober faces and wondered if they were thinking the same thing.

  When Alexander rode into the wagon camp a few minutes later, Ellie and Liza were readying to head into the valley. Hampton had hitched the team and loaded empty grain barrels and sacks into the wagon. Riding up behind the captain, Abe quickly dismounted and stepped up into the driver’s seat of the wagon. The twins were already playing in the rear, and the shrill, wavering sounds of “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” carried into the balmy morning air.