The Belle of Nauvoo - Book One

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Between then and the New Year, Lorin was in our home every day, often bringing more news to us from the Mansion House and the outside world than our own father. By Saturday night, he had become such a fixture in front of our kitchen fire that my parents and Aunt Mercy went to meeting with only Aunty Grinnels at home to chaperone us. The children were all tucked in bed. By leaving us alone, were my kinsfolk angling for his proposal? If so, they were to be sadly disappointed, for Lorin did not speak of love to me. Something new had happened in Nauvoo!

With the return of Orrin Porter Rockwell from the Missouri prison came news of a traitor in our midst. Just the day before, Uncle Joseph had ordered forty policemen to be hired by the city of Nauvoo to ferret out the trouble. Forty! All about the city people were talking about it. Why, just a few weeks earlier some Missourians had kidnapped some Mormons, and last year they had tried to kidnap my uncle! That wasn’t so easy to do in Nauvoo, for people knew who were strangers and kept an eye on them. But to have hidden traitors among us was something new to Nauvoo! Uncle Joseph had called the traitors “dough-headed fools” and “right-handed Brutuses.” Everyone wondered who they could be, and several folks developed pet theories on the subject. It seemed that anyone who had ever heard ill of someone else was anxious to bring it forward to the public at this time.

“I don’t think any good can come of all this talk,” Lorin said. We sat before the fire on the settle, he on one end and I on the other.

“It harks back to the troublous times of Far West, Missouri,” I recalled. “Many times we were betrayed by those we thought to be friends.” Every time I remembered living in Far West I felt the hair rise on the back of my neck.

“Won’t be that bad ever again, Lovina.”

I bit my lip with worry. “It couldn’t possibly be that bad. Some people were turned out of their houses with no shoes or coats in the middle of winter. Some died. Some lost all they possessed. Some even lost their virtue.”

Lorin thought on my words, then mused, “My pa was at the Haun’s Mill massacre, and he survived it. The rest of our family missed that, thank God. All we suffered was a good deal of fear of the mobs. Ma said the Lord would protect us, and he did.”

“The mobs were ugly and mean to us,” I said. “I grew up with persecution from the time of my birth. In Far West, traitors betrayed us to the mob.”

“That’s not going to happen, Lovina. We have the Nauvoo Charter and the Nauvoo Legion to protect us. Set yourself at ease.”

I felt assurance as I gazed into his strong eyes. “I can’t bear it if the trouble starts again, Lorin. I used to lie awake nights for fear. I was afraid a man with a painted black face would crawl through my window.” I confided.

“Put your fears away. Forty police ought to catch the traitors before any trouble comes. Did you hear what Sister Turley said?” I knew something humorous was in his mind, for a twinkle came into his eye.

“No.”

“She said they were those two roosters that got under the fence and mixed in with her hens. Turned traitor.”

I laughed till I cried over the idea of the police looking for two roosters, due to my emotions being all tied up in knots. Then I offered Lorin some warm apple cider stewing near the coals. I drew it with a ladle and poured it into our best clay cups. We drank deeply and settled back on the bench comfortably, like two old friends.

“Did you hear that Brother Phelps wrote a New Year’s hymn?” Lorin asked, making conversation after a few quiet moments while we sipped our cider.

“No, I hadn’t heard. Do you know it?”

“Don’t know that I’ll learn it. It has no rhyme – sounded mighty peculiar!”

“I suppose that would.”

A few moments later he said, “Did you hear we also have a King Agrippa in our midst?”

“As well as a Judas? It sounds as if the people of the Bible are coming back to life,” I laughed.

“Sure does. That Jackson fellow was being preached to yesterday by Brother Joseph and Dr. Bernheisel, and said he was ‘almost persuaded to be one with them,’ unwittingly quoting Agrippa. Brother Joseph replied, ‘I would to God you were not only almost but altogether,’ thus quoting Paul’s answer.”

“What a fine thing that would be if he were baptized!”

“Oh, would it? Does that mean you would let him dance you under the kissing ball?”

“If he were one with us, he would dance no girl under the kissing ball.”

An uneasy silence pursured the subject of the kissing ball. We were very much alone. I could hear the clock ticking and a child turning over in his bed. Outside, the cold wind whistled between the buildings and across the top of the chimney.

“My folks should be home soon,” I said into the crackling silence.

“And if they find me still here, they’ll read all sorts of meanings into it.”

I stood up to stir the cider, though it needed no mixing. I wondered if Lorin meant to talk about those meanings.

“I’d better go,” he said.

I looked up at him. “I suppose you must.”

“I suppose I must.”

“I’ll get your coat.” Suddenly I was afraid to let him stay any longer. Shyness overpowered me. I helped him into his coat with trembling hands. Aunty Grinnels was dozing in the other room, and I could hear her snores rising and falling evenly.

“Lovina…” he began.

I knew not what to do or say! I looked all around me and pulled at my hair ribbon, I felt so terribly unprepared.  How did a girl respond? Should I say “Yes?” – or perhaps flutter my eyelashes? And, more importantly, was I ready to make a commitment like that?

When I hesitated, Lorin said, “Goodnight, Lovina.”

The moment passed and I looked up. Oh, dear! My opportunity was over. Maybe I did want him to propose. “Goodnight, Lorin,” I whispered, extending my hand. Lorin took it in his glove and kissed the tips of my fingers. Then he quickly disappeared through the door.

I thought of the verse,

He is handsome,

He is shy,

And I’ll love him

Till I die.

Yes, Lorin was also shy. I ran back to the bench by the fire and held my hand before me. It was sacred! I would cover it with a glove forever. Imagine…Lorin’s first kiss! It was a moment I would treasure for all eternities and evermore.

When my family came home, I was still before the fire. They came into the house talking.

“Do you think we should walk over and see if they are sick and have a need, Hyrum?” Mother said while hanging her shawl on the peg.

“William looked fine when I saw him earlier. Can’t think what’s happened.” Father replied.

“William and Jane Law weren’t at meeting this evening,” they explained to me. “Have you heard anything?”

Of course I hadn’t heard. My mind was still consumed by my tingling fingertips. I answered with a simple, “No,” and went off to bed where my thoughts could remain undisturbed.