True Sisters by Sandra Dallas Read Free Book Online

turning the prairie into ankle-deep mud, seemed to be stopping. At least Louisa Tanner hoped it was, because she was wet and chill and had the beginnings of a cold in her chest. She arched her back in hopes of relieving the soreness, as she and her father, Hall Chetwin, waded through the brown muck that stuck to the wheels of their cart. The bed of the cart was heavy with clothing, blankets, and cooking utensils. Louisa’s sister, Huldah, pushed it, while their mother, Margaret, shuffled behind, shivering under her soaked shawl, the knitting she worked as she walked along shoved into her pocket now. All of them were drenched by the cold rain and exhausted from pushing the cart through the mud and sand that sucked at the wheels. Thales Tanner, Louisa’s husband, who had gone on ahead, turned to scrutinize the little group.
    Louisa, her yellow hair plastered to her tiny face by the lashing rain, caught his eye and sent a mute plea for help. Instead, he gave her a nod and a tight-lipped smile of encouragement. She knew he had responsibilities beyond his wife and her people. He had told her so. Others in his hundred needed him more than the family, who would have to harden themselves if they expected to reach the valley, he’d said. Louisa had bowed her head in acceptance. She wished Thales was more understanding, but nonetheless, she was proud to be the wife of such a man of God.
    Louisa knew her husband was someone of standing among the 625 emigrants who had departed from Iowa City on the journey west. Not all who had left England on the ship Horizon were continuing on to Great Salt Lake City. Others assigned to the handcarts had stayed behind, too sick to continue or frightened that the company’s late start would mean traveling in foul weather, and they had remained in the East. A few had deserted in Iowa. Some had even abandoned the Saints on the trail. Good riddance to them—to all the deserters, Thales had told Louisa. The dropouts were too weak, too worldly to reach Zion. Only those who truly believed would be blessed with the Promised Land. The others deserved to be cast by the wayside. Although Louisa sympathized with those who pleaded age or sickness, Thales was unmoved. “The honest of heart will be assembled and the tares left in the field,” he told her. She was glad that none of those who’d turned their backs on the church was a Saint whom her husband personally had converted during his mission in England. All of Thales Tanner’s converts stood firm, including Louisa’s family, although they might have wavered without his guidance.
    Louisa knew, of course, that Thales would help any who needed him, but those assigned to him were his especial responsibility. The Mormons were divided into groups of one hundred, with each hundred under the direction of a captain. She was proud that Thales, as one of the missionaries who had come from the valley, had been asked to captain one of the hundreds. He was charged not only with enforcing rules that governed the company but with looking after the elderly and sick, overseeing the tents and provisions that were in the wagon assigned to his group, settling disagreements and quarrels, and helping those whose carts broke down along the trail. Only two weeks out from Iowa City, the carts were beginning to fall apart. As the green wood dried, it shrank, causing wheels to break, axles to come loose. These people, these converts who had worked in factories and mills, Thales told Louisa, knew nothing about repairing carts, and they needed his assistance.
    They were ill-prepared in other ways, she knew. So many were from slums and had worked in the dank factories, and they had no experience of the outdoors, had never slept on the ground, were not used to walking long distances. Some were old and in ill health, their lungs congested from years of living in the damp and smoke of Europe’s cities. They would have had a hard time of it even if they’d been in wagons. Now, they