The Belle of Nauvoo - Book One

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

The day after Christmas was English Boxing Day, and with so many English converts celebrating it, we did also. My mother’s kitchen was filled with young men enjoying my company after their chores were done. I was still baking the bread, and according to Mother and Aunt Mercy, the young men were eating it faster than I could bake it.

I held up a bowl of maple sugar drops and they all begged for a taste. “Just one, please,” begged Andrew Cahoon.

I popped one right into his mouth, and then of course had to do the same thing for all the others. They were Garrett Ivins, William Cutler, and Marcellus Bates. Mother’s mouth set in a straight line as she watched me, and I blushed as I realized I was behaving in a forward manner. I was not shy with these young men, for they were like brothers to me. To cover up my impropriety, I put one drop each into my sister’s mouths also. At times it was hard not to get too carried away with my own consequence.

“Lovina, remember you promised to collect for the fund today,” Mother reminded me. Father had started the sisters contributing a penny per week to save up for the glass and nails for the temple. It was called the Penny Fund. Everyone who subscribed had their name recorded in the Book of the Law of the Lord.

I was putting a candy into my own mouth, but stopped abruptly and said, “Oh dear! I nearly forgot. This bread is taking such an extraordinary time to bake that I’m afraid I’ll not have time to collect.”

“I’m sure it can be arranged,” Mother said with a touch of sarcasm.

“I’ll take you!” Garrett Ivins eagerly offered. He jumped from his seat. “My carriage is just down the street.”

“Mine is outside,” Andrew Cahoon countered with a bow. Then all the others offered their services also. How was I to choose? Four young men wanted my company. Oh, my! It was a most gratifying situation. They were lined up before me. Should I choose one or two, or would it be better to allow them all to accompany me at once? Or would that cause gossip? I knew not which one of my beaus to choose.

I was saved by a knock on the kitchen door and the entry of Lorin. Here was my clear choice! Immediately perceiving the advantages of this timely interruption to my quandary, I crossed the room to him. My heart was thumping like a hammer at the sight of him, and I was afraid that all of them could tell that my smile was grander for Lorin than for them. I was not as yet ready to relinquish so much admiration from all my beaus, yet I could not help favoring Lorin.

‘Just the man to solve our difficulty!” exclaimed Marcellus Bates, welcoming Lorin to their circle. “Lovina must go collecting and needs to choose an escort. Each one of us has offered to accompany her. Now you must be an impartial judge and choose her escort.”

“Is that agreed?” Lorin asked all my beaus.

“Agreed,” they said in unison.

Lorin put his hand on his chin, as if thinking deeply, “Hmmm…and you promise to abide by my judgment with no hurt feelings?”

“Agreed,” they repeated earnestly.

“Then, as an impartial judge, I choose myself,” he said with a huge smile.

There were cries of “Not fair!” and “You are taking advantage!” But to my secret delight, Lorin’s claim prevailed. I thought him most clever.

Mother and Aunt Mercy laughed.

“Porter Rockwell is back from the Missouri jail. He’s over at the Mansion right now,” Lorin told us as he sat down.

“’Twas quite an event last night,” Mother remarked.

Several of the boys expressed a wish that they had been witness to Porter Rockwell’s arrival.

“Were you there when he came in?” I asked Lorin.

“Sure thing. I was one of those who held his arm ready to put him out the door when we all thought he was a drunk Missourian. Porter came in all dirty, with his hair long and unkempt from being in prison so long. He’d lost a good thirty pounds and was staggering around, putting on an act to fool us. No one knew him at all. Then Brother Joseph grabbed him by the arms to get a good look in his enemy’s face – you know how Brother Joseph does. To our surprise, he then drew his enemy to his breast and wept. We all thought that was carrying forgiveness a few steps too far until he held him back again and cried, ‘Porter Rockwell!’ What a celebration they had after that! It’ll go down in the annals of the Lord.”

“It must have been so thrilling!” I cried. My eyes were shining with love and admiration for Lorin, not Porter Rockwell.

My beaus looked from me to Lorin and back again, then one by one paid their respects to Mother and Aunt Mercy and left. After that I never again had so many beaus to call on me at once. Lorin had won my heart and they all knew it.

Thus Lorin and I began a much steadier courtship with that walk through Nauvoo to collect pennies. I put on my warmest cloak and thickest wool petticoat to protect me from the bitter wind and we went out into the cloudy day. However, there was sunshine in my heart, yea, even springtime, and I felt little of the cold. Had I gone with Garrett Ivins or Andrew Cahoon, I could have driven and accomplished my task in a quarter of the time. But I had no desire to speed my journey, and neither did Lorin.

We stopped at the homes of Sisters Law, Marks, and Johnson, then on to Sisters Wright, Miller, and Williams. After that we collected down Sidney Street at the Shearers’, Eldredges’, Stewarts’ and Allreds’. That covered my whole route for the day. My pouch was full.

“Sister Emma contributed two chickens for the price of two tickets to the concert tomorrow night. Would you care to accompany me?” Lorin asked.

My breast filled with dismay as I realized I had already committed to accompany Horace Whitney. I knew no how to reply, for I wanted to go with Lorin with every particle of my heart; yet could not release myself from my promise. Members of the Whitney family were among our oldest and dearest friends; they had sheltered us and housed the Smiths in my early youth. And I did admire Horace. He did not deserve such shabby treatment.

“What did you say, Lovina?”

I said nothing and rubbed my mittens together nervously.

“I know it is rather late to ask…”

I stopped and turned to Lorin with agony in my eyes. Placing my glove to my lips, I said, “It is too late. I already promised Horace Whitney. It is a promise I dare not break.”

Lorin smiled anyway. “It’s enough to know you would rather go with me.”

“Oh, I would! I would!” I assured him with great earnestness.

“That’s good enough,” he said cheerfully and began to whistle. “I will take Lucy or Catherine with me and gaze upon your beauty from afar.”

“You’re teasing me now,” I protested.

He stopped whistling and turned to me. “I’m not, you know. To me you are the most beautiful girl in Nauvoo.” He quoted: “Softly she treads upon the daisies, lest she dim their glory by her own.”

I was inordinately pleased by his compliment and knew not where to look. Once again my blushes overcame me. Perhaps I could easily do without the admiration of my other beaus! But all I said was, “Surely you have seen prettier girls in St. Louis.”

Lorin bowed. “No, madam. I amend that compliment to ‘the prettiest girl in all the great wide world.’”

“That is most gratifying,” I whispered, thinking to myself that they were not just gratifying words – they were fit to make the seraphim sing! Lorin favored me above all others!

He put his arm out for my hand. I felt this to be symbolic of our new relationship. Shyly I tucked my glove into the warm crook of his coat, and we continued our stroll down the frozen road. I left my hand there for the remainder of the journey. The pink sunset glowed over the silvery blue expanse of the frozen Mississippi River. It was like a journey towards heaven.