Morning Star by Marian Wells

us?”
    Mark shook his head and Jenny called, “You come with us; there’s chicken in the oven.”
    When the Laws arrived, Sally and Jenny had just finished the dishes. As they came into the house, Jenny stood awkwardly in the doorway, suddenly shy and inadequate. She spoke tentatively, “Shall I prepare tea?” Jane Law glanced at her husband as she slowly drew off her gloves.
    William frowned, but Mark said, “Some of us will enjoy a cup.”
    As Jenny turned into the kitchen, she was very conscious of Sally’s trill of excited laughter. “ Kitchen maid ,” she muttered to herself, cringing as she reached for the teacups. She had heard that Jane and William Law were wealthy. She peeked through the doorway. The Canadians’ British accent was nearly as intimidating as their fine clothes. Jenny eyed the fluffy gray fur edging Jane’s brocade cape before she turned to load her tray.
    Graciously Jane accepted the cup of tea. “Lovely china,” she murmured with a smile. “My favorite pattern.”
    Tamara cuddled close to her mother, and her solemn blue eyes watched every move Jane made.
    The conversation between the men cut through Jenny’s thoughts. As she brought Mark tea, she lingered beside his chair. William was saying, “I’m fearful of what will happen if Bennett’s excesses aren’t curbed. I’ve tried talking to the man.”
    â€œBennett?” Sally’s laughter interrupted and the men turned, “But the council took care of him when they pushed his brothel into the gully last autumn!”
    â€œUnfortunately that isn’t the scope of his endeavors.” William rumbled on. “Women aside, his biggest threat right now is the image he’s projecting of the Saints.”
    â€œYou’re referring to the articles?” Mark asked. Jenny knew he was talking about the series the Times and Seasons had published.
    Jenny couldn’t hold back the words, “I wondered why the Saints’ newspaper printed them.”
    William scrutinized Jenny before he said, “I wondered too—certainly there was nothing good to be accomplished.”
    â€œWhat were they about?” Sally asked.
    â€œWell,” Jane replied, “most certainly he informed the world at large that Joseph is a power to be reckoned with, that he now has at his disposal the power to avenge the wrongs inflicted upon his people in Missouri. He has demanded satisfaction for wrongs, and hinted Missouri land must be restored to the Saints.”
    William added, “We weren’t in the States when this all happened and, to be certain, the information we’ve had is limited, but nevertheless we saw it as a war cry.”
    Heavily Mark said, “I’m afraid it was intended to be. I tried to get Joseph to stay Bennett’s hand, but . . .”
    Andy continued, “He’s too powerful. He had Joseph eating out of his hand. Now it’s too late to curb the man. Our only hope is that he will tire of the game and go home.”
    William frowned. “You seem convinced the man is insincere. Is there a possibility he’s warping the mind of the Prophet?”
    â€œA man of God being warped by a mere mortal?” Mark snorted, and Jenny, studying his face, saw how ludicrous the idea was. A secret question which had its birth in the articles slipped away and she sighed with relief. Obviously Joseph didn’t support the articles. She caught Mark’s sharp glance; then William began speaking again, his voice rumbling slowly and thoughtfully.
    â€œMark, it’s a different problem that plagues me today. You know Foster and I are engaged in trying to put up homes in Nauvoo as quickly as possible. Some of these poor people spent the winter in wagons and shanties. That ought not be so. You also know Joseph is determined the temple and his precious Nauvoo House will be built first. There’s a real tug-of-war