The Undaunted

by Gerald N. Lund

  “Wednesday. I already postponed it a week because of being gone up north for Christmas.”

  “Yes, I know that, but I would really like to have you at the meeting.”

  David wasn’t the only one surprised at that. Everyone was looking at Patrick quizzically.

  “But Daddy,” Molly said, “David wasn’t called.”

  “The meeting is not just for those called, dear.”

  “You’re the postmaster,” David said easily. “Whatever you say. I’ll leave Friday morning.”

  Then Patrick took Sarah by the elbow. “I’d like our family to have some time together now,” he said, still talking to David and Carl. “We have much to discuss, but we should like the two of you to join us for supper in the dining room at six.”

  When David had accompanied the McKenna family to Parowan on Saturday afternoon, they had checked into the Parowan Hotel on Main Street. Patrick had reserved three rooms for them—he and Sister McKenna were with Billy Joe in one, Molly and Abby took another, and Carl and David shared the third.

  It was after four now. David was on the bed, pretending to sleep. Carl sat at a small writing table working on something. They had said little since returning to the room. By unspoken mutual agreement, they chose not to talk about what had happened this morning, even though the implications for both of them could be enormous too.

  He let out his breath and sat up. Carl turned and looked at him, but David just shook his head. He got up and went to the window. Friday’s light snowstorm was gone now, leaving the town glistening under a brilliant blue sky. But it was still cold. He could see the breath of the few people who were out and about.

  He started, then drew the curtain back. Directly below him, Molly stepped out of the hotel. She was bundled up in her coat and woolen bonnet and mittens. She stopped for a moment, looking this way and that, then turned and walked slowly up the street, her head down.

  “I’m going for a walk,” David said. He grabbed his coat and was out the door.

  Molly heard his footsteps on the walk and turned. Instantly she smiled and stopped, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand.

  “Mind if I walk with you?” he said, pretending he hadn’t seen the tears.

  “I was hoping I might see you,” she murmured.

  David took her elbow and they moved on again. He was tempted to make light conversation, to see if he could cheer her up a little, but decided to let her lead out when she was ready. She kept her head down as she walked. From time to time, he would feel her digging her fingers into his arm. He was pretty sure she was not even aware she was doing so.

  Just ahead was the Old Rock Church. “It’s cold, Molly. Want to go inside and talk there?”

  She looked up, almost as if she was startled to see the building, then quickly shook her head. So they walked on by, still not speaking.

  Finally, as they reached the northern outskirts of the town, she slowed her step and stopped. She turned to look at him. In the gathering darkness of the winter evening, her grey eyes were almost a slate color, and red from crying. “Are you all right?” he asked gently.

  She stared at him; then her face crumpled. Her head dropped, and she covered her face with her hands. “Oh, David,” she whispered, “what am I going to do?”

  Caught by surprise by this outburst, he touched her arm. “Am I to take it from that, that your father is considering accepting the call to go?”

  She gave him an incredulous look. “Considering it? David, there’s never been a question in his mind. If the call came, we would go. That’s it. End of discussion.”

  That rocked him. “No question at all? But . . .”

  She sniffed back the tears, her mouth tightening into a thin line. “He considers this call a reflection of the Lord’s will, and when it’s the Lord’s will, you answer. It’s that simple.”

  He fumbled for something to say. “Elder Snow talked like this was more of an invitation than a commandment.”

  “Of course he did,” she sniffed. “That’s the way of the Church. They issue the call, and leave it up to each individual to decide if this is the Lord’s will for them.”

  What if the Lord doesn’t care? But he wasn’t fool enough to say that aloud. Feeling a sinking feeling in his stomach, he couldn’t resist asking, “And you’re all right with that?”

  “All right? What do you think?” She reached inside her coat pocket and withdrew a white handkerchief to cope with a new wave of tears. “I can’t believe this is happening. Not to us. It’s always been somebody else.”

  She dabbed at the tears, then blew her nose. Then, once again, she caught him completely by surprise. “I feel so awful, David. So guilty.”

  “Guilty? Why guilty? That seems like a pretty normal reaction to me.”

  “Because I should have the same attitude as Daddy. I should want what the Lord wants for us. But I don’t want to go. Not in any way. I don’t want to leave Cedar City. I love it there. I love working in the post office and meeting people.” She looked away, suddenly sheepish. “I love our nice home. I love it that Abby and I each have our own separate bedrooms.”

  “Is that so wrong?” he asked.

  She didn’t seem to hear his question. “Why am I so worldly? Why can’t I be more like Daddy? Or Abby?”

  “Because you’re not them,” he replied tartly. “What about your mother? How does she feel about it?”

  “Awful. Like me. She looks like she’s going to be sick.”

  “You both need to talk to your father. Tell him your feelings, that you don’t want to go.”

  “He knows how we feel.”

  “So, just like that, you’re going to give in?” He felt the anger rising. “Surely your father wouldn’t make your mother go if she doesn’t want to. Or you.”

  Her head came up slowly. “You don’t know my mother very well, do you?”

  “I know her well enough to know she’s not one who simply salutes because her husband speaks. And I know your father well enough that I can’t believe he would say, ‘This is how it’s going to be,’ and not even listen to your concerns.”

  “You’re right,” she said in a low voice, “but you still don’t understand. Mama won’t go simply because he says so. She will go because she believes this is the thing to do. Because she believes this is a question of faith, and her faith is every bit as strong as Daddy’s.”

  “What about common sense? What about this agency you’re always talking about in the Church?” He looked away. “Aw, Molly, don’t say it. Don’t tell me you’re going. Not now.”

  He had withdrawn his hand in his agitation. Now she reached out and took it. “Why not now?” she asked in a bare whisper.

  That took him aback.

  “Why not now?” she asked again.

  He had thought about this moment all the way back from Coalville, and he certainly hadn’t pictured it like this. He had planned to use the two weeks he would be gone on the mail circuit to rehearse his every word, determine the best time and place, see if he really had the nerve to do what he was considering doing.

  He drew in a deep breath, looking into those deep grey eyes that made him melt inside. “Molly, I . . . look, Molly, I’ve been thinking a lot about things, and . . . well, what I’m trying to say is . . .” He looked down at his hands, feeling like a dolt.

  When he lifted his head again, she was still waiting, her eyes filled with a touch of hope now. Then, on impulse, he told her about “the box” and how for years it had sustained his mother with its promise of getting them to America, and how during that time, he had put every farthing of his earnings into it. He stopped, giving her a chance to reply, but she never moved, never let her eyes leave his face. So he plowed on. “I guess saving every penny was such a habit by then that I just continued on. By the time I left Coalville when I was sixteen, I had saved a hundred dollars. By the time I was twenty, it was five hundred.”

  “And how much do you have now?” she asked, the amazement showing in
her eyes.

  “Thanks to the extra work your father keeps giving me, just over eight hundred dollars.”

  She gave a low whistle. “My goodness.”

  “No one knows any of this except for me and my father.”

  “And now me,” she said softly.

  “Yes, and now you.”

  “Why are you telling me this now?”

  He drew in a deep breath, then plunged. “Because I don’t call it ‘the box’ anymore. Now I call it my ‘ranch fund.’ Since coming to Cedar City four months ago, I’ve realized I’m tired of living on the road. When I was in Laramie, I came to realize that I loved ranching.”

  She was hanging on his every word. “And you want to have a ranch of your own?”

  “Yes.”

  She leaned forward, eyes literally dancing with happiness now, which knocked David completely off balance. Her next words came like a smack to the side of his head. “Are you thinking of getting serious with me, David Draper?”

  He rocked back, nearly choking.

  She hooted in delight. “Sorry. Mama always tells me to stop and think before I speak.”

  “No, I . . .” He could feel the heat spreading across his face.

  “No? What are you saying then?”

  “Molly, I . . . doggone it, girl, you’ve gone and got me all taffled.”

  She laughed all the merrier. “Taffled?”

  “Yeah, all tangled up, all flustered.”

  “Hooray for me! That’s the first time I’ve ever seen you at a loss for words.” Then she became instantly serious again. “I’m sorry, David. That was terribly presumptuous of me.”

  He spoke slowly now, trying to choose the right words. “Molly, it’s too early to even hope that you and I might . . . well, that we could someday . . .”

  “Get serious?” she cried happily.

  “Well, yes.”

  “But you have been thinking about it?”

  He sighed. “All the time, but . . .” The knot in his stomach had tightened even more. “Ah, Molly. This is crazy. What am I doing? Look at us. There you sit, all beautiful and gracious, dressed to the nines, daughter of one of Cedar City’s most influential and well-to-do citizens. And look at me.”

  “I am looking at you,” she said, her voice soft and warm now.

  “I’m a cowpuncher, Molly, a mail rider, a teamster, a construction gang grunt, an old has-been Yorkshire coal miner.”

  “You don’t seem that old to me,” she teased.

  He rushed on before she could say more. “Molly, I own a horse, a saddle, a bedroll, and a rifle.” He threw up his hands. “I don’t even own a decent Sunday suit.”

  “You have eight hundred dollars in cash. How many young men of your age can say that?”

  “Yeah, but . . . this is crazy. Why would you even consider . . . ? Your dad will likely toss me out on my backside.”

  “For what?” she asked, still pressing him.

  “When I ask him for permission to come courting his daughter.”

  “Ah,” she breathed, “I was wondering how long it would take you to finally say it. But shouldn’t you ask me first? Make sure I won’t toss you out on—”

  He took her by the shoulders, leaned forward, and kissed her gently, cutting off any further words. And for all that she had been hoping that this very thing would happen, the suddenness of it took her breath away.

  When he let go, she was breathing rapidly. “Now who’s all taffled?” she whispered.

  He laughed and kissed her again. This time it was even softer, but it lingered long enough for her to reach up and put her arms around him and kiss him back.

  When they stepped back from each other, there was a quiet joy in her eyes. “I was afraid that I’d be gone and you’d still be trying to find nerve enough to ask Daddy.” Now she was teasing him. “Wanna go ask him now?”

  He jumped as though she had stuck him with a hatpin. “No!” He shook his head, then said more softly, “Especially not now.”

  “Then when?”

  “I worry about it being too soon, Molly. Yes, I’ve been here four months now, but in that time I’ve made five mail circuits and a trip to Coalville. I’m gone more than I’m here. And when I am here, it’s not like we spend a lot of time together.”

  “Not nearly enough,” she said, reaching out and stroking his hand.

  He was suddenly forlorn. “And now this. I’m not sure what to do.”

  Tears welled up again. “Don’t you know, David? That’s what upsets me the most. Knowing that now, when things are finally starting to happen between us, then . . .” She took in a deep breath. “I agree that we need more time, so what do we do?”

  “I don’t know. But does this mean I have your permission to ask your father if I can start courting you, Molly McKenna?”

  She looked up at him. “I don’t know.” Her eyes closed as she leaned in closer. “Ask me again.”

  And he did.

  When Molly slipped back into the hotel room, Abby was sitting on the bed reading. She watched as her sister removed her bonnet and unbuttoned her coat. “Where have you been?”

  “For a walk.” She turned her back on her, but not before Abby saw her cheeks flush a little. Abby laid the book down.

  “With David?”

  “Yes.”

  There was a pained sigh. “Did you go to his room?”

  Molly’s chin lifted with a flash of defiance. “No. I went out by myself. He saw me and came out to join me. Why are you making such a big thing of this? It was just a walk.”

  Abby studied her for a long moment. “You don’t act like it was just a walk. What happened?”

  Molly didn’t seem at all surprised at the question. “Abby, David’s gone.”

  “Gone? Gone where?”

  “Back to Cedar City.”

  “What?”

  “He said that he has so much to do before he has to leave again.”

  “But Daddy told him . . .” She blew out her breath. “Okay, what happened?”

  Molly dropped down on the bed beside her sister. “Abby, if I tell you something, will you promise not to say anything to Mama and Daddy?”

  “Not if it’s something they need to hear.”

  “Oh, it’s nothing bad,” Molly snapped. “Promise?”

  Abby inserted a bookmark and set the book on the lamp table. “All right, I promise.”

  Molly’s face lit up. She scooted across the bed to sit beside Abby. “Okay. Please don’t interrupt until I’m finished.”

  Abby didn’t. She had to bite her tongue when Molly told her how she had blurted out the hint about marriage, but calmed down somewhat as she described David’s response. When she finished and sat back, Abby wasn’t sure whether to laugh, give her sister a lecture, or hug her. “Did he kiss you?”

  “None of your business.” But she instantly laughed. “Yes. Three times.”

  “And is that your first time?”

  “Well, the first time since Jimmy Roberts kissed me behind the barn when I was six.”

  “Molly, Molly, Molly,” Abby said with a sigh.

  “Don’t, Abby. Don’t ruin this for me.”

  Abby turned to face her fully. “Actually, I was just feeling a bit envious.”

  “About David?” she asked in surprise.

  “No, about Jimmy Roberts. He took me behind the barn too, but only to play mumblety-peg.” She grew thoughtful. “I beat him, too. Maybe that was why he never kissed me.”

  Molly laughed, greatly relieved. “Oh, Abby. I’ve been hoping and hoping he might be interested in me. What do you think Daddy will say? David is really worried that Daddy and Mama will think he’s not good enough for me.”

  Abby didn’t respond to that.

  Molly instantly bristled. “You think Daddy cares about him not being rich enough?”

  “No, not in any way.”

  “Then what, Abby? Why that look?”

  “I am very happy for you, Molly. If this had happened a few
weeks ago, I’d . . .” She decided she didn’t want to say that. “Back then I considered David Draper to be a shameless flirt whose impudence was surpassed only by his high opinion of himself. But now—well, he still has a natural gift for scraping his fingernails along my chalkboard, but he’s a good man.”

  “So you approve?”

  “Of him courting you? Yes, I do.”

  “But not of me marrying him?”

  “Molly, it is way too early for that, and I’m happy that David was wise enough to see that. All he is asking for now is to court you.”

  “Don’t play games with me, Abby. Something is bothering you. What is it?”

  Abby paused before answering. “Daddy will say yes to David when he asks. It would not be like Daddy to try to cut it off at this point, even if he does have serious concerns about it.”

  Molly was up in an instant, tossing her head angrily. “Serious concerns? No, Abby! I don’t want to hear this. You are ruining it for me.”

  “Fine. You were the one who asked.”

  “You always do this,” Molly cried. With a flounce, she stomped to the door, jerked it open, and stormed out. But it wasn’t five seconds later that she was back. She marched to the foot of the bed and glared down at Abby. “All right. Tell me.”

  Abby got up, went to the settee, and sat down. She patted the cushion beside her. Molly stood there for several moments, then finally came over and sat beside her. “I don’t want you trying to argue with me,” Abby began. “I’ll just say it, then you decide what you do from there.”

  Molly folded her arms and sat back as if she were waiting for the verdict in a courtroom.

  Abby gave her a sidelong glance and smiled a little. “Can I get a stick or something for you to bite down on while I say this?”

  “I already know I’m not going to like what you’re going to say. So just say it.”

  “Okay.” Abby looked at her sister, trying to decide how delicately to put it. Finally, she decided delicate was not what was needed here. “I don’t think you and David share the same convictions about religion and God.”

  She jerked her head around. “What?”

  “You heard me.”