As he came around the barn, he stopped. A slight fluttering movement at the cabin caught his eye. There was a sheet of paper there, tacked to the front door. Puzzled, he moved across the yard.
As he stepped onto the porch and leaned forward, he felt his heart leap. There was only a single line of writing, but he recognized it instantly. It was Lydia’s handwriting! He peered at it more closely. “Book of Ruth, chapter one, verses sixteen and seventeen.”
He dropped his valise with a heavy clunk, snatched the paper from the door, and turned and strode quickly to the barn. He went to his shelf and took down the small Bible he kept there, fumbling in his haste. When he finally found the place, he read slowly, the words leaving him a little dazed.
And Ruth said, Intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God.
The words suddenly blurred and Nathan felt his eyes burning. Could this really mean…?
Feeling his pulse racing, he turned back to the book.
Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried: the Lord do so to me, and more also, if ought but death part thee and me.
Slowly he read over the passage again, his mind reeling, not daring to hope it meant what it seemed unmistakably to mean.
There was a soft noise behind him and Nathan whirled. Lydia stepped out from one of the livestock stalls. She stood motionless, hands clasped together in front of her, her dark eyes watching him solemnly.
“Lydia?” he cried softly.
“Hello, Nathan.”
He took a step toward her and stopped. His eyes registered several things at once. Her dark hair was slightly tousled. There were small pieces of meadow hay on the skirt of her dress. Her eyes were large and filled with a curious mixture of joy and weariness. In her hands she clasped a book.
Nathan stared. It was a small book with a light brown leather cover. He couldn’t believe his eyes. It was the Book of Mormon! The book he had sent her. He nearly threw himself across the space toward her, but something in her eyes held him.
He held up the Bible. “Does this—” He stopped, wanting to choose the words very carefully. He still held the sheet of paper from the door. He thrust it out. “You wrote this?”
She nodded.
“Does that mean…?” He shook his head. “Are you saying…?” He couldn’t bring himself to say it. There had been so much pain between them previously. If this was some cruel joke, or if he was misinterpreting what was happening, he could not bear it.
Her lips softened and her eyes were suddenly glistening. “Yes, Nathan, that’s what I’m saying.”
He fell back a step, too stunned to believe his ears. She laughed through her tears. “Does the thought of marriage so terrify you?”
“Marriage?” he echoed.
She took a step forward, her eyes filled with tears, but teasing him. “You’re not going to withdraw your offer now, are you?”
He finally came out of his shock. In two great strides he was to her and swept her up in his arms, nearly crushing her. “Lydia, Lydia, Lydia,” was all he could say as she laughed and cried with him all at once.
When he set her down finally, he reached out and took her face in his hands. He kissed her gently. “Oh, my darling Lydia, can this truly be happening?” he whispered.
In answer she kissed him back, then threw her arms around his neck and hugged him fiercely. Suddenly he felt her body begin to tremble, then start to shake with sobs. Surprised, he stepped back. As he looked at her, she fought back her tears, fighting for control.
“Lydia, what’s the matter?”
She started to shake her head, then her lip started to tremble and she looked away quickly.
“Tell me. What is it?”
“Do you think there would be a place at your parents’ home where I could stay until we are married?”
Was that all?
He felt such a rush of relief, his knees felt suddenly weak. Then almost immediately he realized what she was saying. His eyebrows shot upward. “Have your parents…?” He let it trail off, already knowing the answer.
She nodded.
“Because of me?” he started, feeling the anger starting to rise.
She sighed. “Can we talk, Nathan?” She walked to the corner where his things were and set the Book of Mormon on the shelf. He noted with surprise that one corner of it had a dark stain. Then he noticed a piece of hay stuck in the back of her hair. There were a few more flecks of it on the back of her dress.
He stepped to her, understanding finally dawning. “You slept here last night?” He gently pulled the hay from her hair and held it around in front of her.
Her head bobbed up and down once.
He turned her around to face him. “How long have you been here?”
“I came yesterday morning.”
“Yesterday morning?” he echoed dumbly. “If I had known I would have come home.”
“I knew you were gone, but I needed someplace to—”
“Have you had anything to eat since then?”
She shook her head.
Shocked, he took her by the shoulders. “We’re going right over to my parents’,” he said. “You must be starving.”
“Please, Nathan,” she said, “first, let’s talk.” She took his hand. “Bring the Bible. There’s something else I want to read to you.”
They sat on the porch of the cabin in the hazy sunshine of spring. Lydia leaned against him, holding his hand. She seemed lost in her thoughts, but Nathan was content to wait, still reveling in the joy of having her there beside him. Finally, she straightened and began to speak in a low voice. “When Melissa came and told me about your package, I was very upset.”
“Melissa?”
“Oh, that’s right. She said you didn’t know.” She smiled. “Dear Melissa. If she hadn’t come…” She told him quickly of Melissa’s appearance at the store, of her own search for the package, and of the confrontation with her father.
“I was so angry. I was angry with him.” She squeezed his hand. “I was angry at you. Why couldn’t you leave me alone? All you were doing was raking up the pain all over again.”
He started to say something, but she shook her head and went on quickly. “When I left the store, I was in turmoil. I have never felt so betrayed. My parents are not that way.”
Some pain deep inside her stopped her, and for a moment she was fighting her emotions again. But then she went on, talking more slowly now. “I went to the cemetery. You know how I love that place. It’s so peaceful. And the trees are just starting to come into leaf now. Anyway, I spent all afternoon there. At first I read your letter over and over. It really touched me. Knowing you couldn’t bear to stay around Palmyra, either, made me want to cry. Then, that scripture from John. What a lovely way to tell me that you still cared, that you had not given up on us! At that moment, I just wanted to hold you.”
“But?” he said, sensing something more coming.
“But your suggestion that I read the Book of Mormon irritated me. All that talk about judging Joseph Smith by his fruits. It was just more words. It was the same old thing. There was Joseph, looming between us again, keeping us apart.”
She poked at him, the very memory of the irritation bringing back a little of the frustration all over again. “Sometimes you can be so stubborn.”
He just laughed.
She smiled, then sobered again immediately. “I was even tempted to go home and tell Papa to throw the Book of Mormon away again. And yet…” She grew thoughtful. “But finally, I opened the book. My father had absolutely forbidden me to read it.” She looked at him with a sudden mischievousness. “I’m afraid I started to read it more to spite him than to please you.”
“As long as you started,” he said happily, putting an arm around her and pulling her in tight against him again.
She laid her head against his shoulder, her eyes half closing as she remembered. “I read for several hours. At first I was filled with resentment. I was looking only for proof that Joseph was a fraud. I’m afraid I didn’t get much out of it.” She paused, her face turning thoughtful. “Except this—I didn’t find it to be the evil thing my father said it was.”
Now suddenly her voice choked. Nathan just held her, letting her take it at her own pace. She sniffed, brushing at the tears angrily. “I returned home just after dark. My parents were frantic. I had stormed away and they had no idea where I was. I know now that was part of it. They were upset. I was still upset.”
“What happened?”
“My father asked if I had started to read the Book of Mormon. I told him yes. He was furious. He demanded I give it to him so he could burn it with the trash.” She shook her head. “It was the wrong thing to say. I was still fuming over his attempts to control my life. I told him I would do what I wanted, and I turned around and stomped off to bed.”
Nathan laughed softly. “It’s a good thing I’m the only stubborn one around here.”
That made her laugh too. “Oh, our poor children.”
Nathan sat up straight, staring at her.
“What?” she said, puzzled by the look on his face.
“Our children,” he murmured. “Our children. Do you know how many times I’ve used those words in my mind, and how many times I’ve thought it would never be.” He kissed her cheek quickly. “I’m sorry, go on. You stomped off to bed.”
“Yes. Well, I couldn’t sleep, of course. I lay there and lay there. But I kept coming back to what you said. You didn’t ask me to believe you. You didn’t ask me to believe Joseph. You asked me to ask God.”
“Yes. Did you read the place I marked for you?”
She nodded. “After lying there for almost an hour, I got up again and lit the lamp. I went to that place and read it again
and again. That’s it, I thought. This is how I can know once and for all.
And I decided right then that if I didn’t get an answer, I was going to leave for Boston immediately. I couldn’t bear to be around you any longer.”
“And if you did get an answer?”
“I didn’t want to think about that yet.” Her voice dropped now. “I began to read, this time with a different attitude. I kept asking God to let me know if it was true. I didn’t want to be deceived.”
Nathan felt his heart soaring. “And you got your answer?” He nearly shouted it.
“I read most of the night,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “By morning, I knew.” She was gripping his hand with a sudden fierceness. “I’ve never felt anything like it. There was nothing blinding or miraculous. I just knew.” Her voice caught. “I just knew.”
She straightened now, moving away from Nathan, her eyes filled with pain. “I also knew what I had to do. I went down to face my parents first thing yesterday morning. It was terrible. I told them I knew the Book of Mormon was true and that I was going to marry you. I tried to explain to them what had happened. I was even foolish enough to try and get Papa to read the book too.”
She shook her head slowly. “I’ve never seen him in such a rage.” Though her face was calm as she spoke, a tear had welled up at the corner of one eye and now spilled over the lid and trickled down her cheek.
“So your father held true to his threat?” he asked softly.
She swallowed quickly, but could only nod.
“Lydia, they’ll soften in time. Once we’re married, they’ll get used to the idea. Things will change. You’ll see.”
She shook her head quickly, the tears streaming openly down her face now. “My father turned to Mama and forbid her to ever speak of me again. I am no longer a part of the family. It is as though I had died.”
She turned and buried herself against his chest. “Oh, Nathan,” she sobbed. “I love my parents. How can I live without them?”
“They’ll change,” he said lamely, trying to comfort her, feeling the emptiness of the words he himself did not believe.
She pulled away from him and turned to where he had set the Bible. “I came here. I knew you were gone, but I wanted to be alone anyway. Then I remembered something a preacher used once as a text for a sermon. I was a young girl then and thought it was a terrible thing to say. But I searched in the Bible until I found it. It was the final answer I needed.”
She opened the Bible and turned to the New Testament. When she found the place, her eyes read over it silently. Only then did she look up. “It is the Savior speaking.” She took a quick breath, then let it out slowly. Only then did she begin to read aloud.
“ ‘Think not that I am come to send peace on earth: I came not to send peace, but a sword. For I am come to set a man at variance against his father—’ “
Her voice caught, and for a moment she could not continue. But finally, she bit her lip and began again. “‘For I am come to set a man at variance against his father, and the daughter against her mother…’” Her voice was stricken now, barely audible. “‘And a man’s foes shall be they of his own house hold.’”
It was too much for her and she dropped the book in her lap. Gently, Nathan reached across and took it from her. His eyes found the place where she had left off. With his own voice filled with emotion, he finished it for her.
“ ‘He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me: and he that loveth son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. And he that taketh not his cross, and followeth after me, is not worthy of me.’ “
He stopped, then with strength and power, he read the next verse. “ ‘He that findeth his life shall lose it: and he that loseth his life for my sake shall find it.’ “
He closed the book and set it aside. For a long time they sat there, silent, lost in their respective thoughts. Then slowly Nathan stood up. He reached down and took Lydia’s hands and pulled her up to face him.
He touched her cheek, so filled with love for her that he thought he would burst. “It will be all right, Lydia,” he promised. Then he suddenly grinned. It spread across his face rapidly, crinkling his eyes at the corners.
She sniffed back the tears. “What?”
“Do you know what my mother is going to say when we walk in together?”
Lydia laughed then too. “Do you think she’ll be pleased?”
“Pleased?” he cried. “You don’t know the half of it.” Then he laughed right out loud. “And Melissa? She’s gonna let out a yell that will be heard from here to Buffalo.”