President Garn, who had finally woven through the crowd, stepped up onto the makeshift barrel-turned-pulpit.
“Brothers and sisters,” he began. “What a fine day we have been blessed with.” He put his hands out wide and then gestured up to the sky. “It seems, though some smallpox cases still exist, that God is smiling down upon us.” He gestured to the poop deck. “I’d also like to extend a special welcome to Captain Fairfield and his senior mates, who wished to join us today.”
Will glanced down the line of men near him, surprised he didn’t hear any grunting from Crenshaw. Captain Fairfield nodded and called down to President Garn. “Thank you.”
“And now for the prayer by Brother Nance, and then we will sing ‘For All the Saints.’”
If there was one thing these passengers did well, it was sing. Loud and strong, their voices rang out together, and Will was almost certain he could hear Miss Cherry’s voice above the rest as she stood next to Ann. It reminded him of that day after the smallpox was discovered, when the strength of one voice compounded into hundreds. That had been a sight to behold—and to listen to. When the singing finished, all eyes turned again to President Garn.
“Before I begin,” he said, “I’ll ask for your united prayers for two things. One, that the smallpox exposure can be as minimal as possible,” he glanced around solemnly, “and second, that we can have more wind to move our ship along. According to the captain, we are quite behind for so late in the journey. We need all the blessings our faithful prayers may bring.”
Though Will wasn’t one to pray, he appreciated both sentiments. He wondered how many of the passengers understood just how very behind they were.
Then President Garn reached for a book. “Today I will teach from this blessed book of scripture, the Book of Mormon.” He held the text aloft. “This record, which teaches us so much about Jesus Christ, is true. Joseph Smith did see God as a fourteen-year-old boy. Through his faithfulness and willingness to follow God, he translated the Book of Mormon from ancient texts.”
Will glanced toward Ann. She wasn’t looking his way, but he couldn’t help but notice the way the sun shown off her dark hair at the edge of her bonnet.
Ann had mentioned Joseph Smith. He wondered how much she’d read of the book President Garn spoke of.
“As this book states, after his resurrection, the Lord Jesus Christ did come to the Americas. He healed the sick then, and His power, the priesthood on earth, can now. Ours is the true priesthood restored to the earth, the same priesthood that existed in Christ’s day, with laying on of hands and blessing of the sick. We can see healing now, if we but have the faith.”
These people believed they could heal the sick? With power from God? Then why did some still have smallpox? And though hearing about Jesus and His power was familiar, Will couldn’t get past the idea of Joseph Smith. Could a boy really see God?
Will studied the crowd. Every passenger on this ship believed these things. Could such a large number of people be deceived?
More speakers got up, but Will couldn’t fully focus on their words. He was stuck on the Book of Mormon and Joseph Smith. He just didn’t know if he could believe such a tale.
The sermons were so stirring and the weather so wonderful, it was impossible for Ann not to enjoy the Sunday service, even though Brother Wheatley had purposefully positioned himself next to her and Elizabeth.
Please don’t let him renew his sentiments.
As the third speaker sat down, Brother Wheatley spoke quietly with Elizabeth, who gazed back at him, her face looking prettier than ever. Suddenly Ann didn’t mind him sitting so close. She hadn’t mentioned the proposal to Elizabeth, and that was surely for the best, seeing his apparent change in regard.
When Sister Brower rose to speak, Ann turned her head ever so slightly to try and catch a glimpse of Will’s reaction. He must have sensed her because their eyes met and he tipped his head toward her, and then looked back at Sister Brower, raising his eyebrows. Though the woman might drive him crazy, Ann was sure she meant well.
Ann sighed over the happy interaction with Will and refocused. Sister Brower told her conversion story and urged each person to search within themselves and remember the reason they came on the journey.
Ann thought on her mother’s earlier counsel. Did she only want to help her family or was there more to her being on this trip? Doubt had hauntedher for the past few weeks. But Elizabeth’s singing had reminded her about the many stirrings within herself that were more than just a desire to help her family. Before coming, she had learned for herself that God was real, and she’d felt His presence again on this voyage. Shedidwant to do the things He asked of her, even if going to Zion didn’t make complete sense yet.
After another hymn and prayer, the meeting concluded.
“Thank you for sitting by us,” Elizabeth told Brother Wheatley.
“Of course, it was my pleasure.”
Ann nodded and gave a curtsy before taking her leave. She had just reached the door to the cabins when someone approached from behind.
“Ann,” Will said. “I ... I have so many questions.”
His arm hung at a practiced angle, supported by his other hand. Clearly it still hurt, but he was more handsome than ever and seeing him, especially with such a question on his lips, nearly took her breath away.
“You do?” she asked, as she tried to mask the happiness in her voice. He’d felt the power of the sermon!
“The book they spoke of—” His eyes grew skeptical. “Seems like a fantastical story someone might make up to garner attention.”
Her hopes fell. “Joseph Smith saw God and Jesus Christ, and They helped him find the ancient record. He did not make it up.”
Will’s eyes narrowed. “You really think God would come to a boy?”
