The Belle of Nauvoo - Book One

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

“I couldn’t be more happy for you. It was a match ordained by God. To think that I should live to be a great-grandmother!”

I was kneeling at the feet of my grandmother, Lucy Mack Smith, to whom I was especially close. I was her eldest grandchild. She was a sweet and fragile woman who wore a lace cap and a black satin dress.

“Grandma Smith! I’m not yet married. You must not even think such things!”

“I’m old enough to think whatever I please without fear of censure. So if I’m looking forward to being a great-grandmother, I’ll say it.” She began to rock in her polished wooden chair.

Drawing away, I said, “I have not yet thought upon such things.”

“Well, you’d better start soon. When is the wedding?”

“I must prepare my linens and trousseau and wedding dress, which may take months. My chest is but half full.”

She stopped rocking and looked at me. “Spent too much time running about being a belle and not enough time preparing for the one who caught you?”

I was silent. It was all too true. And now I had months of sewing before I could be ready for marriage. “Loring is willing to wait,” I said. What I did not say was that I was, too! I knew how much work husbands and babies were, and I was enjoying my engagement. And perhaps Lorin was enjoying not having a wife to support.

“Well, he won’t want to wait forever. You’d better bring me some of that material to sew a quilt top.”

“You’ll help me? Oh, Grandma!” I leaned on her lap again.

“Only if you’ll occasionally keep me company while I do it.”

I rested my head on her lap. “Of course I will.”

“He’s a fine young man that you’ve caught yourself.”

I looked up at her and smiled. “Oh, I think so too! I love him so much that I imagine all the birds must be singing of it.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I must confess that at times I was mightily concerned for you, getting mixed in with that Jackson fellow. Even if he had joined the Church, I didn’t much like him.”

“Neither did I. And if the truth be told, I’m relieved to be done with him.”

At that moment we were interrupted by Aunt Emma, who came into the room like a torrent, with one of her hairpins falling out and her shawl only half about her, mad as a wet cat. Aunt Emma was most often a sweet and calm woman, though strong-willed, so her demeanor startled us.

“Lovina, are you in here?” she called. Upon finding us, she said, “You must go home at once! The most dreadful, terrible thing has occurred. Go quickly to your mother – she will need you.”

“What is it? Has someone died?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that. Mary will tell you.” And placing my pelisse over me, inside out, she shooed me out the door.

I walked out the front gate and crossed the road to the corner. There, coming towards me, was Joseph Jackson, who must have been visiting the Laws once again. In my state of alarm I could hardly behave in a civil manner, and turned and ran quickly across Water Street. (Not that he deserved to be treated with kindness, after his threats to my father and myself and ill treatment to my friends.) So agitated was I that I lifted my petticoats and jumped clear over the fence surrounding our yard! Let it be spread about Nauvoo that I would do even that to avoid Mr. Jackson. That would end the speculation concerning us!