The Veil Page 6

  “Why will she listen to me if she won’t listen to you?”

  Lucas smiled. “I have a feeling you could talk a snake into giving up its rattles if you set your mind to it.”

  Hannah couldn’t help smiling. In her thinking, that was better than being called pretty. “Yes, of course,” she said. “You know I’ll try.”

  “Good,” Lucas said and let go of her hand.

  “But she’s stubborn,” Hannah said after they had begun riding again.

  “I know she is,” Lucas agreed with a slow nod. A heavy mist laced in and out of the trees, still dripping noisily. Once in a while, a half-moon floated overhead, only to disappear again as they rode. Hannah nudged Foxfire to keep up with the black as they moved over the crest of the bluff near Sophronia’s.

  The moon again slid from behind thin clouds in time for Hannah to see the little frame house that she’d come to love. She understood, at least in part, why Sophronia could not leave. Lucas watched her as if he knew her thoughts, and she gave him a small smile as they rode silently toward the house.

  Hours later, the moon had begun its slow arch downward as Lucas dismounted and tethered the black’s reins to the branch of a cotton-wood. He took a deep breath and sat on a stump, awaiting the arrival of the others.

  “That you, boy?” a voice called out minutes later.

  “I’m here,” Lucas answered.

  “Good boy.” John Steele dismounted and strode to where Lucas sat. “You were there tonight?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “I thought I spotted you. I was in front.” I saw you.

  “Who was the lad with you?”

  Lucas smiled. “No lad, that one. Her name’s Hannah McClary. She’s Sophronia’s niece, actually, her grandniece.”

  “She’s not here with you now?” Steele glanced around as if half-expecting to see the child jump out from the stand of cottonwoods.

  Lucas chuckled. “I’m sure she’d have come if I’d asked. But no, I took her to the meeting for one purpose alone—to get her to help convince Sophronia to leave. I know it scared the daylights out of her, but I figured it was worth it to save Sophronia’s life.”

  “And the girl’s life, too, if she’s living with Sophronia.”

  “That she is. She’s now Sophie’s ward.”

  Just then three other horsemen arrived, and the discussion turned to the mob scene they had witnessed earlier in the evening. After a few minutes, Steele went into detail about the night’s mission, giving the men their assignments with military precision.

  Steele cleared his throat. “All right, men. We’ll strike simultaneously.” He glanced at his pocket watch. “At midnight—that’s exactly seventeen minutes from now. You know what to do.”

  They nodded, then Steele said it was time to ask God’s blessing on their mission. All five men knelt in a circle, facing each other, arms held upward with elbows bent to form the shape of a box over their heads.

  “We are your servants, Lord, here at your bidding through your revelation as spoken to the Prophet,” Steele intoned. “We ask your blessing upon our deeds. We ask for your divine protection as we avenge the death of your beloved servant Joseph Smith, our highest priest and Prophet. We ask your divine sanctification upon our acts as we avenge the deaths of all the martyrs who have perished at the hands of these, our enemies.”

  The men murmured “amen” in chorus then turned to Steele, whose eyes were filled with passion and godly fervor. “God be with you all,” he said as he stood and gave each a salute.

  “And he with you,” they repeated, saluting their commanding officer.

  The three latecomers received a holy kiss from Steele then mounted and rode into the night.

  “You ready?” Steele asked Lucas.

  The young man nodded. “You know how I feel.”

  John Steele draped his arm around Lucas’s shoulders. “Remember what I told you. It will help to keep Eli’s face before you. Think about what they did that day. The martyrs whose deaths we avenge aren’t just those who died in the Carthage jail.”

  “I know.”

  “They are also your mother and father and brother.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Remember how Eli died in your arms.”

  Lucas swallowed hard and nodded again. “Yes, sir,” he said. But he didn’t want to remember his little brother lying in a sea of crimson blood.

  John Steele checked his pocket watch again, turning it toward the light of the moon. “It’s time,” he murmured, and the two men moved silently down the path that led to Jared Boggs’s farmhouse. At the back door they paused only a moment then silently turned the knob and entered.

  Jared Boggs and his wife lay sleeping in an upstairs bedroom, just off a long hallway. The two men stood silently in the doorway, letting their eyes adjust to the dark of the room.

  The woman seemed to sense something was amiss. She opened her eyes and raised her head slightly, looking sleepily around the room, her eyes unfocused. After a moment, she sighed deeply, fell back against her pillow, and closed her eyes.

  John Steele moved to the foot of the bed, studying the positions of the bodies that lay sprawled in sleep before him. When he acted, his movements were swift and sure. And utterly without sound.

  Steele finished the deed, wiping his knife on the bedclothes and giving Lucas a quick nod. A coldness settled deep into the pit of Lucas’s stomach, and he tried to bring little Eli’s face to mind, hoping as always to make sense of these acts. But all he could see was blood, as dark as midnight, seeping from under a well-trimmed silver beard and Jared Boggs staring upward with sightless eyes.

  John Steele and Lucas Knight left the room as silently as they had entered. They had nearly reached their horses when a woman’s scream pierced the silence of the night.

  In the distance a screech owl answered.

  THREE

  The following night after supper, Lucas carried in an armload of dry wood for the fireplace as Sophronia settled into her rocking chair and reached for her knitting basket. Seated in her own high-back rocker, Hannah watched the slump of Lucas’s shoulders as he worked at the hearth, setting the logs in the fireplace. Through the evening she had noticed that he was unusually quiet. She herself had been lost in thought after the previous night’s outing, and she figured it was the same with Lucas. They needed to talk about moving west and, knowing Sophronia, it was not going to be an agreeable conversation. So she accepted Lucas’s dark manner, thinking she understood.

  Settling onto the horsehair sofa, Lucas picked up a needlepoint pillow that Sophronia had made years ago, seemed to study the design for a moment, then looked up. “Sophie, it’s time to make your decision about leaving,” he finally said quietly. The elderly woman started to protest, but Lucas held up his hand. “Consider it, Sophie. When the rest of us leave, you won’t be safe. I know on good authority that the vigilantes will do anything to make sure you go. Please, come with us.” His voice held a passion that Hannah hadn’t noticed before.

  Lucas sensed Hannah’s gaze and glanced at her with a sad, half-smile. She thought maybe it was her cue to speak. “Where I went with Lucas last night,” she said to her aunt, “there were some men who said terrible things about Mormons. Awful things,” she added with a whisper.

  Her aunt gave Lucas a sharp look then turned back to Hannah. “What did they say, child?”

  Hannah bit her lip, remembering. “They called us names. Said we were devils and the like. Said they were going to burn the house of every Saint in Nauvoo, burn us dead or alive to be rid of us.”

  “You let her hear such things, Lucas? I thought you had better judgment than that.” Her tone was sharp, laced with disappointment in the young man. “You had no call to take her to such a place. I thought you were going to a gathering of other Saints.”

  “I did it to convince you, Sophronia. I thought you might listen to Hannah.”

  “You thought wrong, Lucas. You shouldn’t have taken her to such a place.�
�� She stood and stoked the fire, generating a burst of sparks. “I trusted you. If I didn’t consider you as close a kin as my son, I wouldn’t have let her go.”

  Lucas sat forward. “Your life—and Hannah’s—are in danger. Can’t you see?” He let out a deep sigh of exasperation, shaking his head slowly. “I had to do what I did.”

  Sophronia settled back into her rocker. “It’s only the result that counts, Lucas, not your method?”

  He looked away, staring into the fire for a moment. “You must come with us,” he murmured, almost as if to himself. “We leave in two weeks for winter quarters. The temple will be closed here in Nauvoo. There will be no one left to protect you.”

  “God is with me.”

  “I won’t be here, Sophie.”

  “You’ve been ordered to go, then? You said you would be.”

  “Yes.”

  Sophronia frowned. “That’s the one thing I don’t understand about the Saints.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Tell me what would happen to you if you disobeyed those in command.”

  “They speak for God, Sophie. You know that.”

  “You didn’t answer my question, Lucas.”

  He stared at the elderly woman, and Hannah watched them both, fascinated. Her aunt loved the Church and its people, of that Hannah had no doubt. But it was the first time she had seen Sophronia question its authority, question Lucas’s blind obedience.

  When he didn’t answer, Sophronia went on, “If we keep running, Lucas, when will it ever stop? I’m tired of running.” Her eyes reflected the flames in the fireplace. “And I have my doubts about the reasons given for doing so.”

  “Sophie, we’re being forced out. And aside from that, we’re going to a new Promised Land. We’ll be marching as God’s chosen people to our Promised Land. Tragedy will turn into triumph. You’ll see.”

  “Balderdash,” she muttered.

  Lucas sat without moving, studying the fire. “Don’t ever become an apostate, Sophie. Promise me that.” His voice was low and passionate, almost too quiet. “Sometimes I worry about the things you tell me. Your thoughts, your ideas …” His voice trailed off.

  “We all have a right to our ideas, son. You know that as well as I do.”

  Lucas didn’t answer right away. He just watched the fire thoughtfully. “You sometimes speak without thinking,” he said at last. “Some of the things you’ve said have been noticed. And now that you’re thinking of staying here there’s been talk. That’s all. Just talk.”

  “Talk about what? Having a mind of my own?” Sophronia’s voice was indignant.

  “I know where your heart is. But others have heard you criticize Brigham Young for leaving Nauvoo. Just be careful, Sophie. Put those things out of your mind.” Lucas looked at her kindly. “If you’d just go with us, people would no longer doubt your sincerity. Please think about it.”

  “What will they do if I don’t? Tell me, son, just what will they do?” Sophronia laughed heartily. Lucas didn’t laugh.

  Hannah shivered. It was obvious Sophronia did not plan to leave this place. She had to admire her aunt’s determined independence, but she also feared for them both.

  “How about you, Hannah?” Lucas suddenly asked. “Do you want to go with us?” She knew he still counted on her to try and convince Sophronia.

  “Yes sir. I do.”

  Even Sophronia laughed at her quick response.

  Grinning, Lucas went on, “I promise you, there’s no greater adventure to be had in this lifetime than to join with the Saints. You’ll see the kingdom of God being built right before your eyes. You’ll be with us when Christ returns to rule through all eternity. You’ll be there working side by side with the Saints. Working to build God’s kingdom on earth!”

  Sophronia had told her that Christ would return as king of heaven and earth. Of that, she had no doubt. She had said Jesus had eyes like burning coal and he would ride from heaven on his glorious horse.

  Hannah wondered what it would be like to be there in person—there in Utah Territory or wherever the Saints landed—watching Christ ride on the winds through the sky. She would be one of God’s elect, waiting for the king to come.

  Lucas went on to describe the journey west. They would form a line, each family in a farm wagon covered with canvas, he said. He promised to stick close to Sophronia and Hannah if they would agree to come, protecting and helping out as he could. He spoke of the importance of staying together, and of Brigham Young and his revelations, of their duty to obey him, and of their rewards, here and in heaven, if they did.

  Then Lucas smiled gently. “Please don’t say no quite yet, Sophronia. Come with us. Please!”

  Later, when Lucas had gone, Sophronia and Hannah climbed the stairs to the girl’s bedroom. Hannah pulled on her nightclothes, and after her aunt folded down the comforter on the big iron bedstead, she slipped between the covers.

  “I know you; you’re wondering why I can’t agree with Lucas.” Sophronia fluffed the pillow, plopped it into place at the headboard, then sat on the edge of the bed. “You’re so much like I was at your age, Hannah. The spitting image.” Pride shined in her eyes, warming Hannah through to the soul. “I want to give you a good home for the time you’ll be with me.”

  “I want to be with you forever, Aunt Sophie.”

  Sophronia smiled softly as she pulled up the comforter and settled onto the other side of the bed again. She took Hannah’s hand in hers. “I’ve never had family before, Hannah, at least that I’m responsible for. And now that I do, I want to stay put. No more persecution. No more being run out of my home.”

  “But Lucas said we’ll be heading to a new Promised Land. God has given it to us, and no one will ever take it away.”

  “That’s what was said about this place, child. The same words. This was to be our Promised Land too.”

  “God changed his mind?”

  Sophronia chuckled. “No, child. Man came up against his will. Maybe this was his first choice for us. Moving west is his second. But I’m thinking he’ll bless us whether we stay or go.”

  “So we’re not going?”

  “No, honey. We’re staying put.”

  “But what about the awful things the mob said they’d do?”

  Sophronia bent to kiss her niece on the cheek. “I know firsthand what they can do to people. Believe me I do. But it’s those who seem weak that they pick on. Not the strong.” She was quiet as if lost in thought, or memories, for a moment. “We’re the strong ones, Hannah. Don’t ever forget that.”

  Hannah nodded sleepily, and Sophronia reached to turn out the light on the bedside table.

  Before closing the door, Sophronia turned. “I love Lucas and will miss him,” she said. “Don’t think for a minute I won’t. He’s as close to me as my own son. I’m hoping the boy will see fit to stay, but I’m afraid he’s right about his duty. He dare not, child. He dare not stay.” A moment later, Sophronia closed the door and left Hannah to her own thoughts of Lucas heading to the Promised Land without them. She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed that Lucas and Sophronia’s God would bring about a miracle causing them to go.

  Two weeks passed before Hannah saw Lucas again.

  “I’ve come to say good-bye,” he said as he lolled against the kitchen sideboard, munching on one of Sophronia’s biscuits.

  Sophronia looked at him with sad eyes, nodding slowly. “When do you leave, son?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Everyone?”

  “Some have already left. Those still here are meeting by the river at sunrise to ferry across. I’ve got an empty wagon for you if you change your mind.”

  “We’re staying, son. I’m sorry.”

  “So am I, Sophie.” Then he glanced at Hannah. “How about taking a ride on Foxfire? Black Star’s in need of a race.”

  She nodded and let out a deep sigh. “Yes, I’d like that.” It would be their last ride together. “But you’ll be disappointed.”

 
; “Disappointed?”

  Hannah grinned. “Because Foxfire can beat Black Star any day of the week.”

  “Is that right?” He lifted a dark brow. “Any day,” she repeated emphatically. “Then let’s do it!”

  Moments later they raced to the barn, saddled up, and galloped wildly into the wind, steamy vapor trailing back from the horses’ nostrils in the bitter cold. A half-hour later, they climbed the bluff overlooking the river and the road west. Hannah admitted, laughing breathlessly, that the race was a draw.

  “I liked being your little brother,” she said, looking across the bleak winter landscape. “Even for just a while.” She shoved her hands into her pockets, wishing she could say something more about what Lucas’s friendship meant to her.

  He tousled her curls affectionately. “Yeah, me too,” he said in a husky voice. “But I’ll be back someday. I’m sure that some of my missions will head me this direction. Besides, Sophronia means too much to me. I can’t stay away for long.”

  “How long?”

  He chuckled. “Are you always this direct?” But before she could answer, his expression sobered. “I don’t know, Hannah. I can’t promise anything.”

  Hannah nodded sadly.

  To the west, the winter sun began to drop behind a long strand of clouds in the western sky. The vivid sunset colors of their first visit were gone, replaced by a deep and dark violet-gray. A wind kicked up, blowing through the barren trees with a mournful sound, lifting the hair around Hannah’s face and stinging her cheeks.

  She shivered, and Lucas put his arm around her thin shoulders. “We’d better get you home,” he said. “Sophie’ll have my hide if you take a chill.”

  Hannah agreed. Yet the truth was it was simply too sad to stay in the place much longer. A short time later, they rode into Sophronia’s yard and dismounted. Lucas gave Sophronia a bear hug as she wiped her hands on her apron. Then he chucked Hannah under the chin. Without another word, he swung a leg over Black Star’s saddle and rode into the gathering dusk.