The elders looked at Caroline, encouraging her to join the conversation.
“Well,” she began, “I guess Mormons aren’t normal people. Our lifestyle is different in many ways from what one might consider typical. We don’t smoke or use any other kind of tobacco. We don’t drink alcohol, coffee, or tea . . .”
“Wait, what? No coffee?” Kate asked, alarmed that a drink as insignificant as coffee might be excluded.
Caroline smiled. “Oh, it isn’t that bad. It’s part of something we call the Word of Wisdom. The Word of Wisdom is a revelation Joseph Smith received regarding our health and how we can best take care of ourselves. It speaks of eating grains and fresh fruits and vegetables and abstaining from things that may be addictive or harmful to our health, things like alcohol or tobacco or coffee,” she gently added. “We also teach the importance of marriage and family. We practice the law of chastity, teaching abstinence until marriage, fostering a respect for the sacred relationship between husband and wife. While these principles certainly aren’t unique to the Mormon faith, and we all stumble and bumble our way through at times—making mistakes then working to correct them—we believe that living these principles allows us to have a more godly life—to be more like God and to respect what He has given us: these bodies, the opportunity to be married, and the blessing it is to have children.”
“But none of that seems like it would make you odd enough for a pastor of another church to preach a sermon about you and warn his congregation to be cautious when interacting with you,” Kate interrupted.
“The Church has suffered persecution of all kinds from its earliest days,” Elder Peterson offered. “The early Saints were driven from New York, Ohio, Missouri, and Illinois in search of a home where they could worship as they pleased. The persecution they received was not fair, but it passed them through the refiner’s fire just as any ridicule or ill-placed judgment we may receive will do for us.”
“But why?” Kate asked again. “Why so much persecution?”
“I’ve asked myself that question many times,” Elder Christianson answered. “And I’m not sure there’s a good answer for it. I think perhaps it’s intimidating to people for us to say that this is God’s Church restored on the earth—that our church is the only one with the fullness of Christ’s gospel and the authority to initiate the necessary ordinances and covenants for eternal progression. And I think perhaps it’s hard for someone to accept the story of Joseph Smith’s vision. That God the Father and Jesus Christ literally appeared to a mere boy is incomprehensible to many. But the Lord has promised, Kate, if you read and study His words and then ask with a sincere heart, He will make the truth known to you.”
The missionaries stayed for over an hour, teaching Kate the plan of salvation and about temples, expounding even further on Andrew’s comments at the family history library earlier in the week. Whenever they brought up the temple, Kate’s thoughts turned to Ian. She imagined him there, listening, waiting, and hoping. Before leaving, the elders encouraged her again to read and pray and, of course, call if she had any questions.
Kate sat on the porch for a long time after they left. For the first time, she thought of eternal families and how the sealing ordinance could affect her own more immediate family as well. It wasn’t a principle that applied to just Ian. Her own parents could also have the opportunity to be sealed together in the temple, and she to them. It was such a wonderful idea. And yet, it would require so much change. It still seemed foreign to her to imagine having a personal relationship with God in which He would hear and answer her prayers. She went back inside and picked up the Book of Mormon.
“No time like the present,” she said out loud. She took the book back to the front porch, sat down on the swing, and started to read.
Chapter 21
“Katie . . . Katie. Wake up.” Linny nudged Kate with her arm, urging her to sit up and make room for her on the swing.
Kate did sit up, disoriented and momentarily confused by her present surroundings. “I must have fallen asleep,” Kate muttered, stretching and blinking her eyes in the late-afternoon sun. “What time is it?”
“It’s 5:15,” Linny responded. “How long have you been out here?” She looked at Kate, who was totally disheveled and had indentations down the side of her face from where she’d lain on the slats of the swing for so long.
“5:15? You can’t be serious,” Kate said, looking at her own watch. “I, well, it was noon. I guess I read for a few hours, and then, I don’t know. I guess I didn’t sleep very well last night.”
“Well, you must not have,” Linny said sarcastically. “You were snoring like a stuck pig when I found you.”
“Gee, thanks, Linny.”
“What are you doing with this rubbish?” Linny asked, picking up the Book of Mormon from the seat of the swing.
“It isn’t rubbish,” Kate said defensively, hastily retrieving it from Linny’s grasp. “This is what I was reading.”
“Now, Kate, you ought to stay away from those Mormons. Have they been coming around here?”
Kate was annoyed at Linny’s reaction. “So what if they have? Why does everyone seem so shocked?”
“Now, child, don’t get upset,” Linny soothed, altering the tone of her voice. “I’m sure the Mormons are decent enough, but what would you want to get mixed up in such an odd religion for? I know death can shake people up, make them feel like they need to find God, but there are other churches. You and I will go together to the Methodist church down the road this Sunday if you want.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” Kate looked at her aunt, determined to get to the bottom of her biased opinion. “What’s wrong with the Mormons?”
Linny leaned back on the porch swing and lifted her injured ankle up to rest on the small wicker table beside the swing. “When I was secretary of the rotary club a few years back, a woman serving with me, Nancy Freeman, was the treasurer. One afternoon she was giving out copies of these movies all about cults and weird religions. I didn’t take one, as I’ve never been too interested in picking apart one religion or another, but she talked a lot about it, and working side by side at so many events and functions, I heard a lot about it. I don’t know, Kate. She talked about brainwashing and female oppression. It just sounded weird. And all those people out there in Texas or Arizona or wherever with the fifteen wives and what not. They’re Mormon, aren’t they?”
“Linny, you should be ashamed of yourself, basing your opinion on such generalizations and falsehoods, and no, the polygamists you see on the news are not Mormons.” Kate had asked the same question of Andrew point blank when they’d had dinner, and his answer had been very clear. “They don’t have anything to do with the Mormon Church,” Kate told Linny. “If you would meet these missionaries I’ve been talking to, and Andrew too, you’d see they really are just normal people,” Kate finished.
“Who’s Andrew?” Linny asked, eyebrows raised in interest.
“He’s just a friend,” Kate said as lightly as she could manage. “Just someone I met.”
“Katherine Sinclair,” Linny said. “If you join some crazy church for a man, you’re not the woman I thought you were.”
“It’s not like that, Linny. He didn’t have anything to do with it. I didn’t even know he was Mormon when this all started.”
“Hmm,” Linny mumbled. “Well, just use your head. Don’t jump into anything too quickly. I daresay I can’t imagine you getting a favorable reaction from your cousins. Just be careful, child. You’ll do that, won’t you?”
Kate nodded her head. “Of course I will, Linny. Don’t worry.”
“How are things with the house?” Linny asked, changing the subject.
Kate shrugged. “Nothing’s changed since yesterday,” she said flatly. “I just have to wait for the attorney to call. Thing is, I don’t even really know what I’m waiting for him to tell me. He told me he didn’t think there was anything he could do. I just hate feeling so useless, like I ought to
be doing something—protesting, making posters.”
Linny laughed. “Posters, huh?”
“Ugh! I hate waiting.”
“Don’t worry,” Linny said. “Things have a way of working themselves out.”
“I sure hope so,” Kate said, looking at the house and property around her. “I couldn’t bear anything happening to this house.”
“Well, lest you thought I came by just to wake you up,” Linny said, rising from the swing, “I’m on my way over to Leslie’s to watch the kids. I thought you might want to come along and kidnap your cousin for a little while to get her out of the house.”
“I’d love to,” Kate answered. “Is Leslie okay?”
“She’s had a rough day today, I think, though I couldn’t get her to come right out and admit it. It isn’t easy losing your mother, especially as close as they were.”
“I miss her every day, Linny.”
“Who, dear? Your mother, or your aunt Mary?”
“Both,” Kate answered. “It’s different with my own mother. It’s more the idea of her that I miss. But with Mary, it’s everything—the way she smelled, the sound of her laugh. I can imagine it so clearly I can almost feel her right here beside me. It’s so hard to believe she’s really gone.”
“You’re right about that,” Linny said. The women sat in reflective silence for a few minutes before Linny moved to get up. “Well, come on, then,” she said, extending a hand to pull Kate off the swing. “Let’s go see what we can do for Leslie.”
“Linny, did you drive over here with that ankle?”
“Oh, pooh on my ankle. This here walking cast lets me get around well enough.”
“Against doctor’s orders, I’m sure,” Kate said. “All right, we can go. But I’m driving.”
Chapter 22
“So, I think I’ve met someone,” Kate said casually as she looked at Leslie across the table.
They sat in a corner booth at Flannigans, Leslie’s favorite restaurant and the purveyors of the best cheesecake east of the Mississippi. It hadn’t taken much persuading to get Leslie to leave the kids with Linny and join Kate for dinner and cheesecake. The two had talked comfortably for most of dinner, and Kate was feeling surprisingly open. She wanted to trust Leslie and be honest with her about what was going on in her life. She also hoped their evening would lend an opportunity for her to tell Leslie she was moving back to Rose Creek. While she was ultimately moving back for Leslie, Kate didn’t want her to think so. Leslie would feel guilty, regardless of Kate’s assurances, but by mentioning Andrew, Kate hoped to present at least a bit more motivation to up and leave her old life behind. She scraped up the last bite of cheesecake from her plate with the back of her fork and waited for Leslie’s reaction.
Leslie looked at her, eyebrows raised inquisitively. “Who . . . a guy?”
“Well, of course, a guy. What else would I be talking about?”
“Sorry. I just didn’t think single, datable men existed in this town. Who is it?”
“His name is Andrew. Actually, you remember Tracy Spencer from high school? She and I swam together. Andrew is her cousin, though he didn’t grow up here. He’s working for his uncle’s contracting company in town.”
“Contracting? Doing what? Like manual labor?”
“I don’t think so. He does a bit of everything, I think. It’s just temporary though; at least, I think it is. He’s an architect and is sort of in between jobs right now.” Kate was nervous talking about him. She had yet to voice her interest in Andrew to anyone. To acknowledge it made it seem especially real.
“Kate, are you nervous?” Leslie said, smiling. “Look at you fidgeting. You are nervous!” She playfully tossed her napkin at Kate. “You really like this guy, don’t you? How’d you meet him?”
Kate summarized her interactions with Andrew, from the running and the hardware store to their dinner date two nights before. And then, finally, Kate mentioned their time together at the family history library and told Leslie Andrew was Mormon.
“Ha! So that explains why those missionaries were at the house on Saturday. Seriously, Kate, you can’t join a religion for a man.”
“It’s not like that at all!” Kate said. “I didn’t even know Andrew was Mormon until after the missionaries had come over. It was just coincidence, really. And come on, Leslie, you know me well enough to know I would never do something like that, something I didn’t believe in just to make a man happy.”
The waitress came and removed their dessert plates, offering coffee.
“I’d love some,” Leslie said. The waitress looked expectantly at Kate. She thought for a moment then shook her head no.
“Just some more water would be great.”
“Oh my gosh!” Leslie said, her eyes wide. “You’re not drinking coffee. You really are becoming Mormon, aren’t you?”
Kate’s cheeks flushed with color at Leslie’s accusation. “No! I mean, I don’t know. Maybe, but that isn’t why I didn’t get any coffee. I just . . .” She searched for an explanation but found none. “Would it really matter if I was?” she finally asked.
“Yes, it would matter, Kate.” Leslie didn’t even hesitate. “Everything is different about the Mormons. They’re just not like everyone else. All the stories about golden Bibles and angels and secret temples, it all just seems crazy. What would I tell my kids about their aunt Kate’s crazy religion?”
“But it isn’t like that, Leslie. It isn’t crazy. It makes sense, and it . . . well, it’s just really wonderful.” Kate wondered how she had been spared any exposure to the crazy ideas about Mormons that Linny and Leslie seemed to wholeheartedly embrace.
“Wow. I guess you’ve spent a lot of time thinking about it. I didn’t know you thought about religion much at all.” Leslie leaned back against the faded vinyl of the booth, holding her coffee cup in both hands.
“What about when you go back to Atlanta? I guess they’ve got Mormons there too?”
“Oh, well, I’m sure they do. They pretty much have churches everywhere, but it actually doesn’t matter. I don’t think I’m going back to Atlanta.”
“What?” Leslie nearly dropped her cup onto the table, sloshing coffee over the sides of her cup and onto her fingers. “Why? For this guy? You’ve only known him a week, Kate! Be serious about this.”
“I’m not doing this for Andrew, at least not completely. I want to be here, Leslie. I want to be here with you, get to know your kids, be here for Linny. I’ve been living for a long time with a heart full of nothing but myself. I’m tired of that. I’m tired of being alone. Even as hard as this week has been, as much as I miss Mary every day, I’m finally starting to feel like me again. The farmhouse, you, your kids . . . I need this. I really want to be here. I want to be here for you,” Kate said simply.
Leslie slowly exhaled and set her cup down. “What about your job? You would really just walk away from it all?”
Kate hesitated. It was the hardest hurdle in her plans to move home. She had worked so hard to get where she was, to prove to her boss that she deserved her most recent promotion. She shook her head. “Work isn’t everything,” she said, “not anymore, anyway.”
“Kate,” Leslie said calmly. “The only thing worse than moving away from your job and your life in Atlanta for a guy you’ve only known a week is doing it for me—because you think I’m a mess, that I might not make it if you’re not here to pick me up and keep me together. Please don’t do this if you’re only doing it for me.”
“Why not, Leslie? Why not do it for you? I just told you why I was moving back. Obviously, it involves more than just wanting to be here for you. But I can’t say you don’t have anything to do with my choice. I do want to be here for you. I’ve let you down too many times. We need each other . . . this, us . . . this is what we’ve got. And we’ve got to hold on to it.”
Kate watched as a tear spilled over onto the soft porcelain of Leslie’s cheeks. “Emily just said to me last night that she wished you would move into
the farmhouse for good so that anytime she wanted she could go over and remember Grandma’s smell.”
“She can come over every day,” Kate said. “Every day.”
Later that evening, before going to bed, Kate sat on the overstuffed couch in her living room and read an entry in Ian’s journal that felt particularly relevant, considering the conversations she’d been having with Linny and Leslie. It was funny how frequently Kate found herself turning to Ian’s journal. It often seemed like he had insight into just what Kate was feeling. Somehow, she felt as if Ian would understand exactly what she was going through. She read the entry one more time.
7 August 1844
I never thought I’d see the day that here in this place, this land formed by those seeking religious freedom—a nation founded under God Himself—people would be scorned for honoring God. But there are those who do not seek Him, nor do they care for His commandments and teachings. It even seems a spirit exists in this place to urge men not to follow God, to abandon principles of regular worship and instead seek things of the world: material wealth, the adoration of others. Indeed, it might seem easier to walk the wider path and blend in among the crowd, but the reward will not be found on such a path. As the scriptures teach us, straight is the gate and narrow is the way that leads to truth and salvation. Though there be few who find such a path, the joy that comes, oh, the immeasurable joy, would be worth even walking that narrow path alone.
Her family members might think she was making a mistake, but Kate felt more and more certain that she was finding the path Ian had mentioned.
She stood and stretched, then walked through the house, turning off lights and checking the doors to make sure they were all locked. When she got to the sunroom, she had a sudden thought. She walked over to the desk and turned on the small lamp in the corner. She’d looked through the contents of the desk numerous times, gathering information for Sam, who was working to finalize the execution of Mary’s estate, as well as familiarizing herself with the ins and outs of keeping up with the house. She hadn’t seen anything recent from the state DOT or from the county commissioners office, though she did find the file of correspondence accumulated in past years. Still, something niggled at Kate’s mind. She knew she was missing something. She searched through the desk again and found nothing. Then, on a whim, she lowered herself to the floor and looked under and behind the desk.
The House at Rose Creek Page 15
