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Show ing mightily with all his old zest, buoyed by the comfort of knowing his mission with the gospel had not ended. The trouble was, the new deals hadn't paid off. Mother's house had been mortgaged for the Buckhorn project, which was to make a desert valley in Utah blossom as the rose with irrigation, and the deal was caught on a temporary snag. May had lifted the mortgage, and now the house belonged to the first wife. May, Mother felt, had always been a bit envious of the Farmington mansion. "I was going to suggest moving anyway," Mother said. "There will be high school to consider before long. I don't want the girls commuting, going back and forth from the train with Lagoon there." Lagoon was a pleasure resort. "The town is spoiled," Father agreed. "I never would have settled here if I'd known they would build that thing." "We should choose a college town," Mother said, "Logan or Provo." "Provo's a nice little town," Father said. "I was born there, you know, at the time of the exodus from Salt Lake when Johnston's Army was coming. But it has one disadvantage." "What's that?" "I get lost in the place. My directions are twisted there." "You're never home enough for that to bother you anyway," Mother said. "Let's make it Provo." He grinned. "All right, Nettie. You're taking it well." "I haven't lived with you this long without learning that crying doesn't mend anything." "Things are looking up," Father said. "I'm having some waterrights trouble with the Buckhorn, but I've got some other irons in \ the fire. I expect that within a few weeks. . .." "Yes, John. But. ..." "Within a few weeks," he said confidently, "we'll have money again. And you'll have as fine a home as there is in Provo. I promise you that, Nettie." [236 ] She decided to say nothing. He needed all the enthusiasm he could muster right now. Father arranged for a boxcar. Then the deal was coming to a head, and he was gone, leaving Mother and the children to make the move. And the spring rains set in. A neighbor, Nathan Clark, pitched in to help with the move; a friend in need and a friend indeed in these days, when Mother had learned never to speak first on meeting someone for the first time since Father's fall from grace. Some old friends now didn't speak. That was one reason why, despite the loss of the house, she was glad to be moving into a new town. In Provo there would be no embarrassment. There she would come to know only those to whom it wOlildn't matter. Not that she blamed some people for their attitude. Past experience had shown that many men who fell from grace became bitter about the gospel. Some formed splinter groups, holding themselves up as prophets and claiming the Church had gone astray. And John W. Taylor, if he had wanted to, could have been the greatest enemy the Church had ever had. In one evening, speaking in a hired hall, the former Prophet of the Quorum and People's Apostle could have split the Church as it never had been split before. Mother knew he had made peace with himself in accepting his quiet mission to help the Church by raising no finger against it. But as long as he lived the threat was there, and some would fear his power over the masses and his gift of bringing people along with him. "And in the meantime," Nellie, who also was moving to Provo, told Mother, "I will set the example by keeping right on with my Church work. I will speak. I will take an active part just as I always have. There will be some embarrassment occasionally, but my hide will be tough, Nettie. It's little enough to do for the Church and for John. I will show by example that his wives and family are not bitter." Mother admired this courageous attitude. But she had never been a public figure, and her own job as she saw it was to retire [237 ] |
