The Work and the Glory (28 page)

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Authors: Gerald N. Lund

Tags: #Fiction, #History

BOOK: The Work and the Glory
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“Well?” Robert said as they turned out of the Steed lane and back onto the main road to Palmyra Village, the yearling mare trotting steadily behind the buckboard.

“Well, what?” Lydia answered, playing it coy.

“You know what. Did you get to talk to him?”

She leaned back, tipping her face to the sky and closing her eyes. “Yes. We had a nice talk. Thank you for bringing me, Robert.”

He grunted, pleased for her. They rode on for several minutes in silence, then he turned to her. “And what about the brother?”

Lydia sat up quickly. “Joshua? What about him?”

He spoke with mock seriousness to take some of the sting out of his words. “Are you going to make a choice or are you going to create family warfare by driving both of them completely out of their minds?”

She laughed. “Oh, Robert,” she said, shaking her head.

“Well, you told me you think part of Nathan’s holding back is because Joshua thinks you’re his girl.”

“Well, I’m not,” she snapped.

“Does he know that?” Robert asked quietly.

She hesitated. “ ‘He’ meaning Joshua or Nathan?”

He shook his head. “Either one.”

The corners of her mouth pulled down. “I don’t think so.”

“Then maybe it’s time you made up your mind.”

She looked at him for a long moment, then suddenly slid over to sit right next to him. She slipped her arm through his and laid her head on his shoulder dreamily. “I already have, Robert.”

He gave her a sharp look, then slowly smiled. “Mother will be pleased. She’s favored Nathan since he first came out to the farm that night.”

Lydia laughed. “Not just favored, Robert. She’s been doing her best to make sure I don’t make any mistakes with him. Who do you think put me up to this trip today, anyway?”

Now it was Robert’s turn to laugh. “That’s my mother.”

Again they both fell silent, lost in their own thoughts. Then finally Robert turned to her. “And when do you tell Joshua all this?”

Lydia did not move for several moments, just looked out across the sweeping farmland. Then with a deep sigh she shook her head. “He wants to see me night after tomorrow when Mama and Papa are in Canandaigua. I’ve decided to tell him then.”

Chapter Twelve

Joshua looked up at the lowering sky, squinting against the dust that filled the air. The first serious storm of the fall was on its way into western New York, and while the rain would probably not come before midnight, the wind was gusting heavily now, at times almost reaching gale force. The village of Palmyra was already littered with broken tree branches and with rubbish plastered up against picket fences and anything else that blocked the wind’s path.

“Bet you a tankard o’ rum she ain’t comin’.”

Joshua let the wind push the livery-stable door shut again and turned to face Will Murdock. “I told you, her pa cancelled his trip to Canandaigua because of the storm. It ain’t going to be easy for her to get away.”

There were five others besides Joshua in the barn. The two Murdock boys and their cousin Mark Cooper; another cousin, Mark’s sallow-faced, flat-chested fifteen-year-old sister named Hope; and Sarah Black, a neighbor girl Will Murdock had brought along. Sarah was attractive enough, though shabbily dressed, and obviously taken with Will. Hope, on the other hand, couldn’t have been more poorly named. Her hair was greasy and hung down straight as a horse’s tail. Her clothes were patched and soiled. She rarely smiled, and her eyes, large and dark and sunk deep into her face, reminded Joshua of the expression of a yearling calf on its way to the slaughterhouse.

“That fortune-teller ain’t gonna stay all night,” David grumbled.

Sarah nodded quickly. “It may be our only chance to find where Joe Smith’s got them plates hid.”

Will had brought a jug of whiskey and had been sampling it liberally since they had arrived. He brought it up and took another deep draught. He offered it to Joshua, who shook his head. If Lydia knew he had been drinking…“Who is this man, anyway?”

“Don’t know him personally,” Will said, wiping at his mouth with the back of his sleeve. “But Willard Chase does. Chase lives on Canandaigua Road, directly behind the Smith farm. He’s the one who sent down to Ithaca for this man. He’s a conjurer.” Will pronounced the word with a little shiver of awe. “He’s gonna divine where the gold Bible is hidden.”

“Yeah,” Mark Cooper broke in. “He found a lost child once just by holding up the boy’s shirt to his eyes.”

Joshua hooted. “He sounds crazier than Joseph.”

Will swore and slammed the jug down on a box of harnessing gear. “You got any better ideas how we find out where Joe’s hidin’ the gold?”

“We don’t even know for sure he’s got any gold.”

Will grinned wickedly. “We know, don’t we boys?”

By his look, Joshua assumed “boys” included Sarah and Hope as well. They all nodded, each trying to look like old Mother Wisdom herself.

“How? What makes you so sure?”

“Tell him, Mark.”

Mark leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “The Smiths got company night before last.”

“Company? Who?”

“Josiah Stowell and Joseph Knight.”

Joshua looked blank.

“Josiah Stowell is a big rich farmer from South Bainbridge, down Pennsylvany way. Knight is his friend. Stowell is the one who hired Joseph to dig treasure for him down in Harmony. That’s how he met Emma.”

“So?”

“So!” David burst out. “These two men have helped Joe Smith from the beginning.”

Joshua was still not impressed. “What does that prove?”

Will rolled his eyes. “You ever heard a Preacher Clark, one of the ministers in town?”

Joshua nodded.

“Well, Preacher Clark said he talked with Martin Harris a while back. Harris said Joe told him the exact day when he was gonna get them plates.”

He had finally got Joshua’s attention. “Martin Harris said that?” Joshua didn’t know anything about any men named Stowell or Knight, but Martin Harris was something else. He and Joseph were as thick as two thieves. “And what day did he say it would be?” Joshua asked, feeling a sudden quickening of excitement.

Will smiled triumphantly, showing yellow teeth. “September twenty-second!”

Joshua snapped up. “But that’s two days ago.”

“Exactly,” Will crowed. “Joe’s got them plates right now. You think it’s coincidence this Knight and Stowell have come more than a hundred miles to be with Joe on September twenty-second?”

Joshua just shook his head. It made sense, and yet…If Joseph really did have gold plates, Joshua was as ready to go after them as the next man. But if this was going to be just another long night of drinking whiskey and talking brave, he would pass. And Lydia only complicated matters further. When she found out they were going with the Murdocks, that would end it right there. He shook his head. But if Joseph really did have the plates…

“There’s somethin’ else.”

Joshua swung around in surprise. It was Hope who had spoken, catching them all off guard. Even her brother, Mark, was staring at her.

“What?” Will demanded.

She took a quick breath, then started to speak, darting looks at them, then dropping her eyes again quickly. “I was with Pa in town today. A man told Pa Joe Smith was over in Macedon Township today digging a well for a widow woman there. He’s earning money to pay old Mr. Barnham, the cabinetmaker, for a special wooden chest he’s ordered.” For the first time she looked squarely into Joshua’s eyes. “A chest he said had to be real strong. With a lock on it.”

Will and Joshua and Mark were staring in amazement at the little mouse. She fairly beamed. She had scooped them all.

Will turned cold sober and stepped up to thrust his face next to Joshua’s. “You know what that means?” he demanded. “It means that tonight ol’ Joe is gonna go after them plates and put ‘em in that box.” He turned grave. “If we don’t get ‘em tonight, he’ll hide ‘em good and we’ll never find them.”

Joshua made up his mind. “Where is this conjurer?”

“He’s staying at Chase’s house. They’ve got someone watching the Smith house. As soon as he makes a move, we’ll be there to catch him.”

Sarah sneered at Joshua. “Yeah, assumin’ we’re not still standing here jawin’.”

“All right,” Joshua said. “You go on ahead. As soon as Lydia comes, we’ll meet you at Chase’s.”

Will nodded, then his mouth twisted. “Don’t be too long. Once we find out where the gold is, we ain’t waitin’ for nobody.”

Now that full dark had fallen, the wind had picked up again. It hammered at the two figures riding south along Canandaigua Road. The temperature had dropped sharply, and Lydia pulled her long coat around her, trying to hold on to her hat with one hand and manage the reins with the other as the horses trotted steadily along.

They were nearing a large house and Joshua slowed his horse to a walk. She reined in beside him. “Is this the Willard Chase place?” He had to half shout it at her with the wind whipping his words away.

Lydia yanked on the reins, pulling the horse up to a halt. “Willard Chase?” she said in alarm.

Joshua pulled his horse around to face her. “Yes. Is this his place?”

Lydia felt her heart drop. “You didn’t tell me we were going to his house.”

Joshua seemed baffled. “I guess I didn’t. What does it matter?”

“Willard Chase is a class leader in the Methodist church. My father is an elder in the Presbyterian church. They’ve worked together on several town committees.”

“Oh,” Joshua said, a little irritated, “then your pa shouldn’t mind you bein’ with him tonight.”

“My father thinks I’m at Aunt Bea’s house,” she burst out, feeling her temper rising. She had come to the livery stable with the full intention of telling Joshua it was over between them, but he had swept her up with the talk of the gold plates and this being the very night they could finally get them from Smith. Palmyra had been buzzing about the gold Bible for four years now. To be with the group that would be the first to see it…

She had finally pushed down the voice which kept warning her to leave immediately, and agreed to ride south and join the “others” who were going to get the plates. Now she realized Joshua had been deliberately vague about who the “others” were. But Willard Chase? News of her presence would be back to her father before daybreak.

“No, Joshua, I can’t let him see me. I’d better go back.”

He grabbed at her reins. “Come on, Lydia, this is it. This is the night.” When she continued shaking her head, his voice rose higher. “Look, I’ll go in then. I won’t tell him you’re out here. Once we know where Joseph is, then you can go with us to get the plates.” He didn’t wait for her to answer, just pointed to a large elm tree. “Wait there. I’ll be back in a minute.”

As he spurred his horse and cantered away, Lydia nearly screamed at him to stop. Events were quickly getting out of hand and she felt a looming sense of dread. By the time she had reached the livery stable, she was already an emotional wreck. Just getting out of the house had been an incredible drain. Her father had cancelled his trip to Canandaigua because of the weather, and with the storm coming he had put his foot down. There was no need now for her to go to her Aunt’s for the night. It had taken both tears and tantrum to finally win out and get out of the house.

Then all the way to the stable she had fretted about how she was going to confront Joshua with her news. She knew now that whatever she had once felt for Joshua—mostly a combination of physical attraction for his dark handsomeness and an infantile desire to flaunt her independence—was now gone, but he had not sensed it yet. He still assumed everything was wonderful between them. And that made the task twice as difficult. If she had been completely honest with herself, she would have seen that part of her willingness to ride south with Joshua was her desire to delay the confrontation for a while longer. But to her dismay, she now realized that waiting had only complicated things tremendously.

She tied her horse to a bush and moved around the trunk of the elm tree to its lee side, trying at least to blunt the force of the wind. Pulling her coat around her, she hugged herself, feeling more forlorn than she could ever remember feeling in her life.

Three times in the last day and a half she had started letters to Joshua. Three times she had torn them up. She couldn’t choose evasion. She had to face him. Would he be hurt or would he be angry? Would he blame her or would he turn on Nathan? Glumly she answered her own question. A week ago in the store Joshua had caught them—she frowned at her choice of words. There was nothing to feel guilty about. They had just been talking. But she had seen the jealousy twist Joshua’s features and watched the anger rise in a great surge within him.

And what would she say if he did ask if Nathan was the cause of her change of feelings. She had known it was over with Joshua before Nathan had started to dominate her thoughts, but…She shook her head, feeling guilty. As if there weren’t enough hurt in the Steed family already.

Turning toward the house she peered at the warm glow of lamplight coming from the windows. She could see the shadows of people, moving against the blinds. They moved slowly and deliberately. No one seemed in any hurry to leave. She frowned, willing Joshua to hurry. The chill was seeping beneath her coat, through her gloves, into her riding boots. But it was more than the cold. There would be no telling Joshua anything until the search for the gold Bible was done with. Suddenly she didn’t really care about Joe Smith anymore. She just wanted this thing with Joshua done with and behind her.

A half hour dragged by, seeming like twice that. The rain was still some time off now, but the temperature continued to drop, and Lydia moved back and forth, stamping her feet and blowing on her hands. Twice she had shrunk back as other men rode up and entered the house. But there was still no sign of Joshua. Her irritation had long since turned into a burning anger. The fact she was out here alone in the dark and cold meant nothing to him. They were probably drinking hot coffee laced with rum or other liquor and patting each other on the back and telling themselves how brave they were.

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