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Their eyes met in silent battle.
Chapter Eight
It was the habit of the Mormon people to come together in one place to eat their meals. The sun poured warmly through the dining hall window and upon the long table around that sat the adults of the new Mormon settlement of Hope. The children sat at another table of their own, a little distance from their parents.
They spoke quietly among themselves as they ate their dinner of fried chicken. The milk in their tin cups came from the cows that were housed in a barn at the far end of the village. In other smaller buildings, hogs and chickens were kept.
All of the animals, including the horses that were kept in a corral beside the barn, were owned communally, with no one having more than another. Earlier in the day, the young men of the village had cared for the horses and other animals, while the girls had busied themselves gathering eggs.
The little ones had amused themselves holding the new golden chicks, or petting the foals.
Other children had fed the hogs from the food that had not been eaten the prior day. It made a fine meal for the animals that were being fattened for butchering in the near future.
Jeremiah and his family were the newest addition to the small town of Hope, welcomed warmly with hugs and gifts, and even a small house already built and ready for them to move into. It was not a cabin, but a whitewashed house made of planks of wood, like the other houses in the community.
It had rooms enough so that the girls could sleep separate from their mothers, and a well-equipped kitchen. There was even a water pump installed at the sink.
Happy to finally be in the new settlement, Jeremiah ate his chicken heartily as he sat straight and tall in his chair, with a wife on each side of him.
He glanced over his shoulder at the children, all sitting together, and noticed that the oldest of the boys were teasing the girls who sat opposite them at the table.
Jeremiah smiled at how well his daughters took to the teasing, for he knew that among those fine young men might be the very ones who would be Jeremiah’s sons-in-law one of these days.
He returned to his eating, thinking about how good it was to have finally arrived at Hope, where his family could live with others who shared their beliefs.
He would make certain that his family was happy in this community.
And now that they were all settled down, he had decided to find himself a third wife from among the unmarried daughters of his friends.
He wanted many children, and he hungered for a son.
Children were the future of the Mormon people. The more children born into each family, the more blessings would be bestowed upon them.
He had not admitted to anyone his embarrassment at not having sons, but he felt it made him look less of a man in the eyes of the others. But he was embarrassed. If it took five more wives to bring him a son, so be it!
A commotion outside the dining hall drew his attention to the door. Someone had just galloped up on horseback.
No one needed to get up to see who had arrived, for the man burst through the door, breathless. He strode over to the dining table, alarm showing in his dark eyes.
It was Jacob, the one chosen to keep watch for marauding Indians and others who might mean harm to the community. His beard was golden and his eyes blue, his clothes covered with dust from his hasty ride. He wrung his hands as he looked from man to man and then finally spoke.
His voice quivered, betraying just how distraught he was over the news he was bringing.
“There’s been a massacre,” Jacob blurted out. “I came upon it when I rode to Tyler City to see how our new neighbors were faring. I didn’t have to get close to see the black smoke billowing into the sky. I knew from that smoke that there was some disaster.”
“Tell us about it,” one of the elders commanded. “You said a massacre. Does that mean that no one in that new town survived?”
“No one,” Jacob gulped out as he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “I came upon the scene not long after it happened, for some of the buildings were still afire, while others lay in smoldering ash.”
For several moments, Jeremiah’s mind was absorbed by the horrors of Jacob’s report, but, then he suddenly remembered the young and beautiful woman on the stagecoach, whose destination had been Tyler City.
She was headed there to join her family. She had spoken of being the teacher for the new community.
He got a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach as he wondered if she had arrived in the town before or after the massacre.
Without further thought, he jumped up from his chair. He moved so quickly that it fell over on its back on the floor, which drew all eyes his way.
“I have something that must be done,” Jeremiah stiffly announced. “Which of you men wants to join me?”
