Morning Star Read Free

pocket and felt the letter. He pushed it down out of sight, deciding he needed more time to think about it. The outrageous letter had initially evoked a solid no , but now, strange as it seemed, it was causing him to have second thoughts. Most certainly those second thoughts would never have been necessary had it not been for the scarf and those midnight meetings deep in the forest.
    Mark turned away from the door and went instead to sit on the porch swing. The pleasant street reflected all the values of a prospering, growing city. Just recently the city had become the seat of state government. Springfield was attracting settlers with money and influence. In response to demands, the small city was quickly assuming a cosmopolitan atmosphere.
    Up and down the wide, tree-lined street, houses similar to the Cartwright home had been built during the year since Mark and Jenny had arrived.
    He contemplated Jenny’s reaction if he dared propose leaving this comfortable white bungalow. With a sigh Mark shook his head.
    â€œMister Cartwright, sir—” A woman stood at the gate, peering up at him. “I’ve come from the post office. They gave me a letter to deliver to the missus.” She still hesitated at the gate, glancing uneasily beyond him.
    â€œMrs. Callon, if I remember correctly,” Mark said, going down the steps toward the elderly woman clutching her shawl about her head. “I haven’t seen you for some time. I understand your husband is ailing.”
    â€œâ€™Tis, but I intend taking him to the doctor. I don’t believe in the likes of this witchin’.” She watched him stuff the letter in beside the first and glanced sharply at him. He opened his mouth to speak, but she hurriedly continued.
    â€œGood thing you were accepted by the Supreme Court to practice law in the state of Illinois before it come out that your wife is in the witchin’ business.”
    Mark heard Jenny’s step behind him as she answered, “Why, Mrs. Callon! You talk as if it’s bad. I’m a white witch. I’m not out to harm a soul. You need to investigate the craft. We witches are intent on helping people, doing good to all mankind. See, someone’s in need of the power to move nature in response to our needs. If you’d like, I’ll come past with some things to help your husband.”
    With a snort of alarm, the woman backed toward the street. “’Tis using the devil’s powers to do the devil’s work and then lay claim to the powers of heaven.”
    Jenny watched the woman leave, then in a bemused voice she said, “Mark, your dinner is ready.” Mark pulled the flap of his pocket down over the letters and followed his wife into the house.
    After dinner, while Jenny was washing the dishes, Mark took out the letter Mrs. Callon had given him. “Jenny, here’s a letter. Mrs. Callon brought it from the post office.”
    With her hands in suds, Jenny exclaimed, “Letter! Who ever could be writing to me?”
    â€œDon’t you want the surprise of discovering on your own?” he teased. “Here, I’ll dry dishes for you. There are dark circles under your eyes. I know you’re tired.”
    â€œAnd no one believes it’s anything except a silly lark,” Jenny brooded. He knew from the shadow in her eyes that Mrs. Callon’s words had disturbed her.
    When she had dried her hands, she took the thin folded sheet and carefully opened it. “Oh, it’s from Sally. How did she ever know where to find us?”
    â€œWe told her before we left Missouri that we’d be going to Springfield.”
    â€œIt’s been so long. Why did she delay writing?”
    Mark had to admit, “Likely she needed confirmation. I didn’t tell you, but Joseph Smith was through Springfield last autumn. He stopped to see me at my office. I’m sure he carried the news back to Sally.”
    He saw the brief flare of anger in