“YOU MEN STRIP OFF THOSE SHIRTS and I’ll fetch you some new.” The woman, Irus’ and Melvin’s mother, was waiting for them on the front porch of her cabin as they hustled up the path. Lu was relieved to see his saddle lying on the grass beside a pair of old handcarts, the wheels broken and gone to rot.
“What about me?” Sadie asked.
“You just come along with me, dear.” She took Sadie by the hand, whisking her inside. “We’ll get you fixed right up.”
Lu, Henry, Chino and MacLemore stood in the front yard, looking at each other. Buckets of icy well-water had been set up along the edge of the porch, and there was a brick of lye soap for them to share. Boys—five in all, each as blond as a corn tassel—sat behind the buckets, clearly waiting for someone to do something fascinating. The oldest looked to be about sixteen. Irus, the youngest, was five or six.
“Well?” MacLemore asked. “What now?”
“I guess we ought to wash,” Henry replied, and stripped off his shirt.
Just then, the cabin door banged open and the girl Lu had seen in the thicket stuck her head out. “Ma says you boys are to stay right here on this porch. If she catches any one of you tryin’ to sneak ‘round back, she’ll skin you all.”
“Guess that tells us,” Chino muttered.
“What are your names?” MacLemore asked them. “We know Melvin and Irus, but what about y’all?”
The boys looked at each other. “I’m Louis,” the oldest said. “That’s Jesse, and the one on the end is Robert. There’s also the baby. His name’s Karl. But he stays inside with Ma.”
“What about your sister?”
“Her name’s Lovisa. But everybody calls her Sis.”
“What’s your mother’s name?” Chino asked.
“Eliza Jane, but she always says she hates it. We had another baby sister once. Ma named it after herself ‘cause she could see right off it was gonna die.”
Lu looked at his companions. He could see that they all considered Louis’s last statement odd. Henry went so far as to shake his head.
“And your father’s named Melvin, too. Isn’t that right?” MacLemore asked.
“Melvin Hammond,” Louis said, nodding.
“Does he live far?”
“He lives in town. It’s about six miles.”
“Does he get out here much?”
“Ma says he comes just often enough to keep her pregnant, but it ain’t true,” Jesse ventured. “Pa comes at least once a week. He and Ma like to get their ‘lone time.”
“Does he usually spend the night?” MacLemore asked. “When he comes, I mean.”
“Once in a while. Mostly he heads back to town to be with Alma.”
“His first wife?”
“Yep.”
Their conversation was interrupted by the cabin door banging open again, and the boys’ mother stomping out. She had a whole pile of blue chambray shirts, and one lone towel. When she saw the men, still lined up in front of the porch, only one of them with his shirt off, and not a one of them wet, she stopped cold.
“You men are as bad as my boys,” she said. She dropped the shirts in a pile and marched down the steps. “Arms over your head,” she ordered, and grabbed Lu’s hands to make sure he complied.
She stripped him of his old shirt as slick and fast as if he were a baby, and then tossed it to her oldest boy, Louis, telling him to put it in with the wash.
When she looked at Lu again she clucked her tongue. “Judas Proost, how did you ever get so dirty?”
Eliza Jane made him hang his head over one of the buckets of icy water while she scrubbed him down with the lye soap. It was humiliating. She even washed his hair, nearly yanking it out of his head in the process. Far from laughing, however, his companions seemed to recognize the peril they were all in, and got right to the business of scrubbing.
“Now, that’s a lot better,” Eliza Jane said, toweling off Lu’s face. “I’m going to get each of you a slice of bread with butter.”
“Well, that was wonderful,” Lu said, once Mrs. Hammond was out of ear-shot. “You all ought to have given it a try.”
“Just be glad she didn’t take your pants off,” Chino remarked. “That might’ve got real uncomfortable.”
Lu grabbed the shirt she’d left for him and pulled it on over his head. As he did so, he happened to glance at Mr. MacLemore, who had just finished with the soap and was passing it on to Henry.
“You’ve lost weight,” Lu said. He was surprised. Without the fat to hide it, MacLemore was actually quite a muscular fellow. His arms were as big around as one of Lu’s legs, his chest deep and powerful.
“You ought to see yourself,” MacLemore replied. “Lean and mean I’d call it.”
They’d all washed and put on clean shirts by the time Eliza Jane came back, carrying a stack of sliced bread. She gave one each to the men and boys grouped along the porch. MacLemore asked if they might not have another, but she flat refused.
“Dinner’s in a couple hours,” she said. “I don’t want you piecing. It’ll just ruin your appetites. You can look after your animals until then. The boys will help.”
She was just about to go back inside, presumably to start supper, when Sis stuck her head out the door, a look of astonishment on her face. “That girl,” she whispered. “The one in the tub. She’s …” Sis blushed so that Lu thought she might pass out from the blood rushing to her head. “She’s naked!”
Her brothers were all so surprised that they didn’t even think to laugh. The oldest ones looked at each other wide-eyed.
“That’s just the Gentile way,” their mother explained. “Take her a bathing sheet and show her how to put it on.”
“Me?” Sis asked. “But I’ll see her.”
“Sounds to me like you’ve seen her already.”
This time the boys did giggle.
Sis looked both nervous and excited as she backed through the cabin door. Lu couldn’t entirely wrap his mind around the issue of naked bathing, but could see it was quite a scandal to this family. He considered asking, but decided against it. If it was taboo to be naked, even when bathing, it was undoubtedly taboo to talk about being naked.
“You boys get along now,” Eliza Jane said, shooing them away from the porch. “Melvin left a bucket of oats in the shed. You can give ’em to the horses.”
“Much obliged, ma’am,” MacLemore said. His hat still lay on the porch where he’d taken it off, so he tipped the air in front of his forehead.
The boys led them along a path through the hills. They were a quiet bunch, by and large. Walking amongst them, Lu almost felt as if he’d joined the army. He even had a uniform. All of them, oldest to youngest, were wearing identical blue shirts.
“Your Ma must have bought a ton of this material,” he observed.
“Pa likes the color,” Irus explained. “Ma says it makes him look sharp.”
“It is a nice color,” Henry agreed.
The boys led them to a corral. Their horses were already safe inside, nibbling the salt grass that grew up around the log posts.
“Here are the oats,” Robert said, running down the trail behind them, a rusty bucket bouncing against his shin. As with all the boys, he looked eager to help.
“You can feed them if you want,” Henry offered. “Just share with your brothers.”
“Can we ride them?”
“Maybe tomorrow. These horses are pretty tired.”
The boys were clearly disappointed, but not one of them moaned or argued. They all proved capable grooms, as well. Even Lucky, who was normally a bully where food was concerned, got sent briskly away once the boys decided he’d had enough.
When the oats had been exhausted, Irus asked if they could brush the horses. Henry readily gave his consent. Quick as thought, Jesse and Melvin high-tailed it to the cabin to collect up their father’s curry combs. In no time, the formerly withered and bedraggled horses looked good as new. At least, they no longer looked like prime subjects for the meat wagon.
By the time they were ready to head back in for supper, they were all the best of friends. The boys knew all of their names, and they knew the boys’. Lu found them to be surprisingly curious. They asked all sorts of bizarre questions about America, Indians, and the war. But more than anything, the Hammonds wanted to hear about their adventures. Lu told them everything that’d happened to him, and all the strange folks he’d met. They were prejudiced against any sort of supernatural activity, even the perfectly beneficial alchemy Lu’s grandfather practiced, but at the same time they couldn’t hear about it enough. They reveled in Lu’s descriptions of the ghost-riders, and wondered aloud about what sort of “evil powers” Gokhlayeh and Joseph might possess. Lu even told them about Cody’s death in the bad water. The older boys thought the idea of a horse melting in a pool of acid was amazing.
“But where are you going?” Irus asked. He sat on the top rail of the corral, swinging his deformed foot.
“Silver City,” MacLemore replied.
“Our Pa goes to Silver City ‘bout every year,” Melvin said.
“Does he?”
“Sure. He helps drive cattle to the sinners. Pa says they make a fine profit.”
“How far is it to Silver City?” Chino asked.
The boys looked at each other. It was clear by their expressions that they’d never been to Silver City, or anywhere else for that matter.
“How long is your Pa usually gone?” Henry asked.
“’Bout three weeks,” Robert said.
“There and back again?” MacLemore was excited by the news.
The boys nodded.
“That’s just four days’ ride,” Henry estimated. “Maybe five. Who knows how fast they drive their cows.”
“What’re you going to Silver City for, anyhow?” Jesse asked. “You don’t got no steers.”
“I bought a house,” MacLemore explained. “I’m thinking of moving there.”
“Oh, you don’t want to do that.”
“Why not?”
“It’s a bad place. Folks say the devil himself lives in Silver City.”
“Do they? That’s strange. What do you boys think?”
“I think they’re right,” Robert offered. “Treasure hunters are always going to Silver City, searching for gold. The greed turns their minds.”
“Who told you that?” Henry asked him.
“Everybody knows it.”
The boys had finished grooming the horses, and made sure the water trough was full to the brim, so it was time to head back. As they approached the cabin, Lu saw that there were three new horses tied to the porch rail.
“That’s Pa’s horse,” Louis said. He pointed at a black gelding, the only one of the three to have been unsaddled. “And that one belongs to the Bishop. But the other …” He looked at his brothers. “Do any of you know whose that is?”
“Looks like one of Doyle Lee’s to me,” Jesse said.
“Were you expecting him?” Chino asked.
“No. But folks always travel in twos when they’re on church business.”
They’d just reached the end of the porch when the cabin door swung open and three men filed out. Two were blond, just like the boys. The other, a slightly older man, had hair as white as the salt plains themselves. It was this third man that attracted Lu’s attention. The expression on his face was pinched and bitter.
“You must be Mr. MacLemore,” the man at the center said, extending his hand. “I’m Melvin Hammond. We just had the pleasure of meeting your daughter.”
Pleasantries were exchanged and introductions made. The other blond man was Jacob Higbee, Bishop of the local ward church. The white-haired gentleman was Doyle Lee, just as Jesse had predicted.
“We appreciate your hospitality, sir,” MacLemore said. “Our horses were near collapsed. We were in bad shape.”
“I don’t wonder,” Doyle Lee grumped. “Only a fool tries to cross the Lago in August.”
“Or a sorcerer,” Bishop Higbee said, grinning. To Lu it looked as though he might burst into laughter any moment, and was inviting MacLemore to do likewise. “You’re not one of them, are you? A sorcerer?”
“No, sir. We got lost a ways back, and went across the middle of the Lago by mistake,” MacLemore explained. “Fact is, we’re still lost.”
“You’re headed for Silver City,” Melvin Sr. said.
“That’s right.”
“What was that for again?”
MacLemore glanced at his companions. “I have a house there,” he said.
“Your daughter said you planned to go into mining.”
“That’s why I bought the house.”
“I see … Well, you’re welcome here. Looks like my wife already gave you some fresh shirts. I do like that blue chambray.”
They chatted a few more minutes, until Eliza Jane called to them from inside, announcing that dinner was almost ready. Melvin Sr. held the door while the whole bunch passed through, boys included. They were greeted by a vision Lu had never expected to have. There, standing at the end of a long table, husking corn, was Sadie. She wore a blue chambray dress and matching bonnet. Her hair was squeaky clean and her face had been scrubbed until it glowed pink.
“Why, Sadie,” MacLemore said, staring at his daughter. “I’ll be.”
“My clothes are all wet,” Sadie explained. “I washed ’em out while I bathed. Mrs. Hammond lent me one of her dresses.”
“I’ll not have a woman wearing trousers in my house,” Eliza Jane said. “A girl ought not to show her shape like that. It’s not right.”
“Is it true you were naked in the tub?” one of the boys asked.
“Melvin!”
“It was Sis that said it. I just heard.”
“It’s true,” Sadie admitted. “I’d never used a bathing sheet. To be honest, I can’t quite figure what one might be for.”
“It’s to keep you modest,” Eliza Jane explained. “We don’t want our young women seeing themselves and having lustful thoughts.”
Sadie seemed genuinely surprised. “I guess if I’d wanted to give myself a pinch,” she remarked, “no sheet would’ve stopped me.”
The boys all laughed, as did their father and his friends. In fact, only Lu and Mrs. Hammond seemed the least bit uncomfortable. Lu because he was embarrassed. Eliza Jane because she was disgusted, or wanted everyone to think so. Even Sadie’s own father chuckled, though Lu thought it looked a trifle forced.
“How’s dinner coming?” Melvin Sr. asked.
“Nearly ready,” his wife said. “We just need to heat the corn. Sadie, do you reckon you could do that for me while I feed the baby?”
“You just want me to drop it in the pot?”
“That’s it.”
“Then sure.” Sadie gathered up the husked ears and carried them to the big steaming pot on the stove.
Mrs. Hammond went to the cradle in the corner and lifted out a baby. He only fussed a little as his mother carried him to the back room and shut the door.
“That must be Karl,” MacLemore said.
“Our youngest.” Melvin Sr. smiled.
“How many children do you have, all together?”
“Fourteen.”
“My word.”
“It’s a wonderful thing to bring so much love into the world,” Bishop Higbee said. “Don’t you think so Mr. MacLemore?”
“I suppose it is. But fourteen?” He whistled. “That is a heap of love.”
As soon as Eliza Jane returned they took their places at the table. Melvin Sr. occupied the chair closest to the front door. Bishop Higbee took the chair directly opposite him. The rest of them piled onto benches to either side. There wasn’t room enough for everyone, so the three youngest boys sat on the floor. Lu would’ve liked to sit beside Sadie, but got stuck in between Henry and Chino. Sadie was seated on the other side of the table, between Doyle Lee and Bishop Higbee. The Bishop must’ve looked at her at least once a minute throughout the entire meal. He even looked at her while talking to someone else. Doyle Lee did some looking of his own, but not at Sadie. He was focused on Bishop Higbee. And he didn’t seem at all pleased with what he saw.
When they were settled, Melvin Sr. asked Bishop Higbee to give the blessing. Lu had known a number of Christians back in St. Frances, and seen them do a good bit of praying. So he knew the proper pose, and adopted it to the best of his ability. He only glanced up for a moment, as Higbee cleared his throat, and was surprised to see that the Hammonds, Lee, and even the Bishop himself, all had their arms wrapped around their bellies, just like a kid with a stomach-ache might do. Lu noticed that Chino had folded his hands, Henry too, so he gave them each a poke with his elbow. As soon they saw the way these folks got ready for prayers, they made the necessary adjustments. Neither Sadie nor MacLemore left off from their normal method of hand-clasping, but Lu had no way of poking them.
Bishop Higbee began. “Heavenly Father, thy grateful children thank thee for thy many mercies, and beseech thee to bless thy bounty to the nourishment of their bodies. Poor pilgrims have come to us through the purgatories of thy desert, and are hungry, both in body and spirit. We thank thee for sending them to thy Zion, where thy good news can fill their souls, even as Mrs. Hammond’s victuals lend them strength.” He paused, and Lu took another quick peek around the table. For some reason, Sadie had turned away from the Bishop, and she didn’t look especially happy either. Lu wondered what was wrong, but had little time to contemplate the change as Higbee started in on another round of “thee” and “thou.” “Heavenly Father,” he intoned. “We just want to thank thee again for all thy many blessings, and ask thee to take pity on us in all our future endeavors. Amen.”
“Thank you, Bishop,” Melvin Sr. said, and reached for a steaming plate of greens.
Lu took as much as his plate would hold, heaping mashed potatoes to one side and greens to the other. In the center he placed a chunk of meat he later learned to be goat, and covered the whole mess with spoonful after spoonful of dark brown gravy. On top of it all he laid a roasting ear, fresh from the pot and slathered with butter.
He attacked the corn first, and with gusto. But no sooner had Lu got the kernels all chewed off the cob than his stomach began to feel tight. After just half a plate, Lu was stuffed. He tried to force more down, knowing that he couldn’t possibly leave so much uneaten, but found it increasingly difficult even to chew. Swallowing was torture.
His friends all seemed to be suffering. MacLemore belched, begged pardon, and then gave a low moan. Eliza Jane asked if he wasn’t feeling poorly.
“I’m terribly embarrassed, ma’am. But it seems as if my companions and I have eyes bigger than our stomachs.”
“I thought you said you were hungry.”
“We are. Or were. To be honest, I feel primed to burst.”
Moans of agreement escaped the lips of all five travelers. Lu couldn’t even talk, he felt so sick.
“This is good food,” Eliza Jane protested. “I even put grease in the gravy. You can ask my boys, that’s not something we get ever’ day.”
“It’s excellent food,” MacLemore panted. “Best I ever ate, truly. But we haven’t had a bite of solid food in three days. I’m afraid our stomachs have—”
But he failed to complete the thought. All at once, he rolled backward off the bench, clutching his stomach in both hands.
Lu knew without a doubt that he could hold the food down not a moment longer. He jumped up from the table and went sprinting toward the door, beating Sadie by only a step. Before long, all five of them were bent over the porch rail, stomachs empty once more. The boys came out to watch.
It was all over in less than five minutes, and they filed back inside. Lu and his fellows felt mighty sheepish as they returned to their seats. Mrs. Hammond looked as though she might just kill them all. But they were saved by Bishop Higbee.
“I had that exact thing happen to me once,” he said. “This was twenty years ago, when the prophet first led our people to this Zion. The last two days I ate nothing but wild onions. When I finally shot a deer, the meat made me so sick I thought I’d die.”
“What did you do?” Henry asked him
“Only thing for it, I’m afraid, is to keep trying.”
Lu picked up his utensils and got back to work on the plate of food before him. He was in a good deal less hurry this time, however, and quit when he began to feel full. Painful cramps struck him in his belly, but fortunately he felt no need to leave the room. Lu didn’t guess Mrs. Hammond would allow much more of her cooking to go over the porch rail, Bishop or no.
When dinner was over, and the last scraps of meat tucked away for sandwiches, Eliza Jane and Sis got to work on the dishes. Lu offered to help, but was told to stay seated. Apparently, Eliza Jane was as particular about her dishes as she was about everything else. She trusted no man to do them without chipping the rims.
“Besides,” she said, “Bishop Higbee has come to read scriptures. You ought to be hungry to learn. Sis and me, we’ll be listening mighty close, you can believe that.”
So while the women worked, the men remained seated around the table.
“This is what we call family hour,” Melvin Sr. explained, taking a book down from the shelf—the Bible, Lu guessed—and handing it to the Bishop.
“Are any of you Christians?” Higbee asked.
“I am,” Henry said.
“What denomination, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“None. I follow the scriptures on my own.”
“I see.” The Bishop furrowed his brow. “You’ll permit me to offer up a bit of preaching here though?”
“Of course. And I’ll be mighty glad to hear it, too.”
“Excellent. Heavenly father loves all who come to him with an open heart, be they Gentile or Saint. Or even bearing the mark of Cain.”
“My skin color has nothing to do with Cain,” Henry said. “Nor Abel. Nor Seth either. I’m black because my father was, and his father before him.”
“And all the way back to Cain,” said the Bishop. Henry looked like he might protest, but Higbee didn’t give him a chance. “Still, let’s not get all bogged down in that,” he said. “This is family hour, after all. Children are present. And Heavenly Father dearly wants us to be happy. Surely we can all agree on that?”
“No, sir,” Henry said. “I can’t agree.”
“No?”
“Nope. I figure if God wanted us to be happy, he’d have planted green grass in that desert and given us cow stomachs to eat it with. No, God wants us to be good.”
Doyle Lee gave a short laugh. Higbee, obviously less charmed by the suggestion, merely smiled.
“As to you,” the Bishop continued, turning toward Chino. “You’re one of Heavenly Father’s chosen. Did you know that?” Chino shook his head. “Scripture tells us that Jesus will return when the Indians and their offspring find the one true church.”
“Is that right?” Henry asked.
“It’s from the works of a latter Prophet,” Higbee explained. “Though I don’t guess we’re likely get into any of that this evening.”
“Ain’t we going to read at all?” Irus asked.
Lu turned to look at the boy, sitting on the floor directly behind him. The debate between Henry and the Bishop seemed to have unnerved him somewhat.
“Well, ain’t we?” he asked again.
Higbee smiled. “Thirsty for the spirit. That’s good. Fine boy you’ve got Melvin. And he’s right.” He opened the Bible and skimmed through, obviously searching for something in particular. “What do you say to a bit of Song of Solomon, Irus?”
“All right.”
Higbee handed the book to Sadie. “Maybe you’d like to begin.”
“You want me to read?”
“Just start at the beginning.”
Sadie appeared less than thrilled with this turn of events, but bent over the book and read. “Husband, let thee kiss me with the kisses of thy mouth.” A few of the boys tittered. Sadie pretended not to notice. “For thy love-making is sweeter than wine. Delicate is the fragrance of thy perfume. Thy name is like aromatic oil, poured upon the body. And that is why all thy wives love thee.”
“Please go on,” Higbee said, as she reached the end of the first verse.
“Draw me in thy footsteps,” Sadie continued. “Let us run. My husband has brought me into his rooms. He will be my joy and my gladness. My sisters and I shall praise his love above wine. How right it is to be loved by him.”
“Very good.” Higbee’s voice was low, almost a purr. “Pass the book on now, unless you’d like to read more.”
Sadie passed the book to Doyle Lee, who spat out his portion of the scriptures just as if the words were cherry stones, the sweet flesh of the fruit long since devoured. And so it went, the Bible making a complete round of the table. Everyone read a verse or two, until the book came to Chino.
“Can you read Brother Chino?” Higbee asked him.
“I can make my mark, but otherwise not a word.”
“Pass it on then. The good news is as pleasant to the ears as it is to the tongue.”
Now it was Lu’s turn. Unfortunately, he’d ceased paying attention to the flow of the poem. Lu had never had much of a taste for verse, especially when it didn’t rhyme. He’d been a good deal more interested in watching Sadie, who greeted each successive reading with increasing disdain. Lu studied the book before him, searching for the bit he was supposed to read, but had no clue where to begin. Fortunately, Henry anticipated his difficulty and pointed to the correct spot on the page.
What he read was mystifying. “While my husband rests in his own room, my nard yields its perfume. My love is a sachet of myrrh lying at my breast. My love is a cluster of henna among the vines of the goat’s spring.”
Lu passed the book on to Henry, glad to be done with it. He had no earthly notion what a nard might be, or a sachet, or myrrh. None of it made sense to him.
“Do you read?” Higbee asked Henry.
“I read fine,” Henry said. His bit wasn’t much, but he read it, and then handed the Bible to Higbee, who finished the round with a spirited recital.
“How beautiful thou art, my love,” he began. “And how thou delightest me. Our bed is the grass. The beams of our house are the cedar trees, its paneling the cypress.”
It went on and on, Higbee’s voice growing louder all the while. Lu found it a decidedly stirring performance, though he still thought little of the words. To him it sounded like the sort of poetry girls wrote in school, when they were trying to catch the attention of some older boy. Sadie must’ve thought the same, because she sulked through the entire presentation.
At last, breathing hard, the Bishop concluded. “By all the antelopes and wild does of Heavenly Father’s creation, do not rouse. Do not disturb my beloved before she pleases me.” And then, beaming, he snapped the book shut and set it on the table.
By this time, Eliza Jane had finished with the dishes. She and Sis were standing behind Sadie. Sis seemed almost transported by the oratory.
“That was some mighty fine readin’,” Eliza Jane said. “I don’t recall when I’ve heard the like.”
“Thank you, Sister Eliza,” Higbee said. “But I can’t take all the credit. Solomon did some of the work.”
“Well, it was mighty stirring. Mighty stirring. Now, for dessert we’ve got berry cobbler.” The children gasped in joy and surprise.
“That does sound good,” Doyle Lee said. “I only wish I could stay to enjoy it.”
Higbee scowled. “Where are you going?” he asked.
“I’m supposed to meet a courier from the Prophet. So are you.”
“Gracious. I completely forgot. I’m awfully sorry Sister Eliza, but we’ll have to cut this visit a trifle short. Church business.”
“That’s fine, Bishop. Church business always comes first. Besides, one of your wives is giving birth any day now, isn’t she? I’m sure you’ll want to see her. Which would that be again, Nellie or Myra?”
“Nellie. Myra’s not due for a month.”
“Well, you tell Nellie ‘hello’ for us. And let her know I’ll be coming by to meet the little one as soon as she’s got him out.”
Lee and Higbee got up from the table. Melvin Sr. led them to the door.
“How long do you folks plan on staying in our Zion?” Higbee asked MacLemore.
“We’ll be leaving as soon as our horses feel up to it,” MacLemore replied. “Might be as early as tomorrow. Let’s hope so. We’d hate to impose on these fine folks any longer than is absolutely necessary.”
“But you can’t go yet.” Higbee looked at Sadie. “Lots more folks will want to meet you. And you’ve had a long trip. You need to renew your spirits.”
“I’m afraid we’re in a bit of a hurry,” MacLemore said.
“You can stay with one of my wives. Any of them would love to have you.”
“We appreciate the invite, but I don’t think we’ll take you up this time.”
“Let’s go,” Doyle Lee muttered. “Much obliged for the grub, Sister Eliza. Tasty as usual.” He nodded to MacLemore. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Higbee cast one final, lingering gaze at Sadie. Then they were gone.
Eliza Jane served up a large pan of berry cobbler. “I hope you five won’t make as much a mess of this as you did my dinner,” she warned. “I won’t have much more of that foolishness.”
“No ma’am,” Chino said. “My dessert compartment’s plumb empty.”
For the next few minutes, the only sound in the cabin came from the scrape of spoons on bowls.
“So?” Eliza Jane asked finally. “How is it?”
“Oh, Ma,” Irus said. “It’s just wonderful.”
“It sure is,” Louis agreed.
“Well, thank your sister then, all of you. She made it.”
They heaped praise on the girl. If it’d been water instead of kind words, she likely would’ve drowned. Chino went so far as to claim that the cobbler had made him forget English, it was that good. Sadie asked for her secret, though it was next to impossible to imagine Sadie ever making a cobbler, berry or otherwise. MacLemore asked if the girl didn’t want a job as his personal cook. Sis beamed at the attention.
When the dessert was all gone, the pan scraped clean, Eliza Jane announced it was time for bed. “Sis, grab an extra blanket for Sadie, but be quiet. I had enough trouble getting Karl to sleep.”
The children looked downcast, but marched off to their places just like little soldiers. The boys filed onto the porch. Sis went into her parent’s room, returning with two quilts, one of which she spread on the floor as far from the stove as possible.
“Your boys sleep outside?” MacLemore asked. “What about when it’s cold?”
“Cold?” Eliza Jane laughed. “I don’t believe I’ve stopped sweating for one solid minute since Melvin built this place. I’ve asked him to move me to town, where there’s dirt rich enough to grow a tree or two, but Alma says she’ll shoot him before she’ll live next door to the likes of me.”
“Did you enjoy the reading?” Melvin Sr. asked, changing the subject.
“Don’t guess I paid it much attention,” Sadie admitted. “No offense, but your Bishop kept me on the dodge the whole time. Even during the blessing he was rubbing his knee against my leg.”
Mr. and Mrs. Hammond looked at each other. “He does have a loving nature,” Melvin admitted.
“I should’ve given you one of my older dresses,” Eliza Jane said. “I’ve got one or two with no shape left at all.”
“You don’t like him then?” Henry asked them.
“The Bishop? Oh, he’s all right. Just got a powerful interest in love. It’s a common affliction among our more successful Saints.”
“He won’t be any trouble will he?” MacLemore asked, obviously deeply concerned by the information Sadie had just shared. Lu couldn’t tell whether he was embarrassed, infuriated or nervous. He guessed it was a mixture of all three.
“I don’t think so,” Melvin assured him. “When he gets back to town, amidst all his children and pregnant wives, he’ll likely forget all about your daughter.”
“Maybe we should bed down, too,” Henry suggested. “It’s been a long day.”
“Of course.” Eliza Jane picked up the spare blanket from where Sis had dropped it. “You’ll have to sleep in here,” she said to Sadie, handing her the quilt. “I hope that’s all right. With the stove it can get awful hot.”
“I reckon I could sleep with both feet in the fire, and my head on a cactus,” Sadie replied. She spread her quilt on the floor beside Sis.
“You men can grab spots outside,” Melvin suggested. He and his wife were already heading toward their own room. Eliza Jane looked to be in a hurry. Probably nervous about the baby, Lu guessed.
MacLemore led the men onto the porch, but there was no place for them to stretch out. Every available inch was covered by sleeping boys.
So Lu and the other men took spots on the front lawn. Compared to the salt and dust of the desert, even sun-dry grass seemed cool and soft.
They were awakened, a few hours later, by the sound of a galloping horse.
“What in the world?” MacLemore said, sitting up. “Who would be riding out here at this hour?” He looked toward the boys, all of whom were wide awake and sitting on the porch, but not one of them said a word.
“I guess we’ll find out soon enough,” Henry said. He drew his rifle from its scabbard and made sure it was loaded.
A minute later, the horse came wheeling into the yard, nearly running Chino over in its haste. Atop it sat Doyle Lee, his hair glowing silver in the starlight.
“What’s going on out here?” Eliza Jane must have heard the commotion and come to check on her boys. Her head poked just far enough out the cabin door for Lu to see the collar of her night-gown. It was pink with blue flowers.
“It’s Higbee,” Doyle Lee said. “He’s taken a shine to that girl. Plans to make her his own. Tonight.”
“I’ll be dead before I let that happen,” MacLemore said.
“You all will. Or worse. He’s called for the Sons of Dan.”
“Heavenly Father!” Eliza Jane said. “I saw him lookin’, but never thought he’d go so far.” She ducked back into the cabin, shouting at her husband to wake up.
“What is it?” Melvin called back. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s the Danites,” she said. “They’re comin’ for Sadie.”
“Who are these Danites?” MacLemore asked.
“The army of the Saints,” Doyle Lee responded. “Protectors of the flock and killers of the wicked. If ever the Gentiles send an enemy into our Zion, you can be sure the Sons of Dan will use them up fast.”
“They’re the deadliest fighters on the whole continent,” Robert said. Lu was sure he heard pride in the boy’s voice.
Melvin Sr. appeared at the door a moment later. He had pants on, but no shirt. In one hand was an old repeating rifle, and in the other a box of bullets. “How far back are they?” he asked Doyle.
“Higbee’s just stirring ’em up. I expect they’ll ride out of town in an hour or two.”
“Boys, saddle these folks’ horses.” His sons leapt off the porch, grabbing up saddles as they sprinted down the path to the corral. Louis, the oldest, took one in each hand. Robert, Jesse and Melvin Jr. brought the other three. Irus, though he had nothing to carry, limped along behind his brothers as fast as he could manage.
“Take this,” Melvin handed his rifle to MacLemore. “Those pistols of yours won’t be much good against the likes of the Danites. Not out on these hills.”
“I can’t take your gun,” MacLemore protested. “It wouldn’t be right.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got another. And I plan to tell them you stole it anyhow.”
MacLemore started to argue, but was interrupted by the reappearance of Eliza Jane, still in her flimsy night-dress, a sackcloth bundle clutched under one arm. “The rest of the goat meat is inside,” she said, handing it to Chino. “Along with some bread. You can make sandwiches when you get hungry.”
Sis followed her mother down onto the grass. “Sadie’s putting on her old clothes,” she reported. “They’re still damp, but she said that don’t make no difference.”
Sadie stomped out a moment later, working her heels down into her boots even as she finished buttoning her shirt. The skin on her belly was as white as the under side of a fish, Lu saw, nothing like the reddish brown of her hands and neck. She tucked her shirt-tails into the top of her trousers and did up her belt. “Let’s get out of here,” she said.
“I’ll take you as far as the mountains,” Doyle Lee offered. “After that you’re on your own.”
“I’m sorry,” Eliza Jane said. “I thought this sort of thing stopped years ago.”
MacLemore searched through his pockets, but came up with just one fifty-cent piece and five pennies. “I’d give you a few dollars,” he said. “For the food and the gun—”
“We couldn’t possibly take your money,” Eliza Jane said. “It wouldn’t be right to charge a hungry traveler for no more than what we got.”
“But we have to give you something. Wait, I know.” MacLemore took off his coat and hat. “Take these. They cost thirty-eight dollars just six months ago. That coat’s the height of fashion among the Manhattos.”
Eliza Jane looked at the clothes MacLemore offered her. They were dirty, but with a bit of cleaning might be fine garments once more. “What would I do with them?” she asked.
“Your sons can get married in them,” MacLemore said. “However many times they do it, that coat will always look sharp.”
“You can keep our old shirts, too,” Lu suggested. “Mine isn’t much, but it’s still got some wear.”
Eliza Jane smiled. “You’re good boys,” she said. “Your mothers did a fine job raising you.” Then her face went hard again, and Lu wondered if she wasn’t thinking about giving him another wash in the bucket. “Now git,” she said. “I won’t have the Sons of Dan killing you on my front porch.”