Destiny - The Callahans #1 (18 page)

“Sister, you’ve got more to worry about than
the foolish whims of yer maintenance man.”

“Is that what you think you are, Thomas? Our
maintenance man?”

He turned to look at her and saw she was
smiling in a kindly way at him. “Thomas, I have always been proud
of Holy Cross Hospital, and taking nothing from the good people at
the other hospitals in Salt Lake, I think we give the best care in
Utah to our patients. But I want to tell you, Thomas, that since
you’ve come to live and work with us, Holy Cross has taken on a new
air. You’ve brought us a feeling of joy, of enthusiasm, aye, even
of humor. And that’s not an easy thing to do in a hospital, where
people are often dying.

“Please, sit down for a moment,” she said,
motioning to his bed. Tom complied. “All the nursing sisters,
Sister Jude, Sister Josephine, Sister Thomasina, . . . I could go
on and on. All of them, Thomas, at one time or another, over the
past two months, have taken occasion to express to me how they feel
about you and the wonderful contribution you are making to Holy
Cross. It’s a rare thing you have, and you are loved here. Don’t
you feel that, Thomas?”

Sister Mary sat silently, waiting for his
response. Finally, Tom raised his eyes and saw in her face the love
and concern she had just expressed. Aside from his mother, no one
had ever said such a thing to him, and Sister Mary’s words, coming
as they did at this low point in his life, touched his sentimental
Irish heart in a particularly tender way.

“Sister Mary,” he mumbled, “I don’t know what
to say.” But say something, he did. He poured out the whole story:
The pain he had felt when leaving Ireland; meeting Katrina on board
ship; the struggle he had made to find his way to Utah; and the
crushing disappointment he had experienced when Katrina told him
she was already engaged to be married. He lamented the fates that
had made Katrina a Mormon and Tom a Catholic, blaming Katrina’s
domineering father for driving her into a marriage she did not
want.

Sister Mary had known much of the story.
During their midnight charitable forays, Tom had said enough for
her to know more about him than he suspected. What he hadn’t
disclosed, she had surmised.

“In all fairness to her, Sister, she didn’t
know if I’d ever make it to Utah, and her father pushed her toward
this other fellow,” Tom said, dropping his face into his hands.

“And today, of all days, St. Paddy’s day, I
see the notice of her wedding in the paper. In two weeks she’ll . .
.” Tom lowered his head again, while Sister Mary sat with her hands
folded in her lap, quietly assessing the situation.

After a time, she said, “Thomas, whom do you
love?”

He raised his head. “I don’t understand.”

“As we sit here, at this moment, of all the
people in the world, whom do you love?”

Tom thought for a few moments, his hands
clasped together, the fingers rubbing each other in a massaging
motion. “My family?”

“Will you ever see them again?”

“I don’t know.”

“What if you don’t?” she said. “Will you
still love them?”

“Well, I guess so. Yeah, of course I will,”
he stated, more emphatically.

“Do you love me, Thomas?” She was looking at
him earnestly, a kindly smile lighting up her face.

“You’re a sister, Sister,” he laughed.

Her smile dissolved into a serious
expression. “Yes, Thomas, I am a nursing sister. But do you love
me?”

“I guess I do. In a different sort of way.
You’ve been very kind to me.”

“Thank you, Thomas. I appreciate that. And
I’m glad you love me, Mr. Thomas Matthew Callahan, because I must
tell you, as we sit here in the quiet of your room, that I most
certainly love you.”

He looked at her again, unsure how to
respond. “Thomas,” she went on, “there are many kinds of love, and
our Lord and Savior loved everyone—even those who nailed him to the
cross. He loved them, Thomas, and he asked his Father to forgive
them, even as they brutalized him. His love wasn’t based on the
actions of others toward him. It was unconditional.

“I know the loss of love is very painful,
Thomas. But love is only lost, if you let it go. Do you really love
this girl? Can you keep loving her, Thomas?”

“What do you mean, Sister?”

“I mean that if you keep loving her and the
memory of her, especially the things she inspired in you, then you
needn’t lose her love, even if she becomes someone else’s wife. You
can love the wonderful things you found in her, and, privately in
your heart, you can treasure them.”

“But, Sister, I wanted to marry her,” he
said.

“I know, Thomas,” she said, softly and
compassionately. “And that may not happen, but if you become
bitter, if you let your disappointment destroy the love you feel
for her, then both your happiness, and possibly hers, if she knows
how you feel, will be affected. Can you understand that? Let her be
happy, Thomas. Love her enough to let her be happy.”

Tom nodded, though he wasn’t certain he fully
understood what Sister Mary had told him.

“We’ll talk more about this later, Thomas. I
know how important it is to you. But for now,” she stood, removing
the chair and placing it against the wall, “several of the sisters
have prepared a cake and punch treat for dear ole’ St. Paddy.
They’re quite excited that we now have our own resident
‘Paddy’—that’s you, Thomas—” she laughed. “They’re hoping you will
join us. Will you?”

“Aye, Sister,” he said, standing and running
his fingers through his hair, managing to affect a sad smile. “Aye,
that I will.” Hesitating, he then said, “I do love you, Sister
Mary. Thank you for caring.” He looked down, embarrassed to say the
words, but strongly feeling the emotion.

“Thomas, as I’m sure Father O’Leary, bless
his soul, told you, that’s the business we’re in, and fortunately,
our joy. Now let’s go try some of that cake.”

Magnus Stromberg Jr. was born in Salt Lake
City in the summer of 1848, the first year after his father, Magnus
Stromberg, arrived with one of the earliest companies of pioneer
settlers. Raised in the harsh and difficult early years of valley
settlement, Magnus Jr. learned the hard lessons of life, but under
the tutelage of his father, he became a staunch member of the
church and an outspoken supporter of the Prophet and of the
Brethren.

Young Magnus was encouraged by his father and
several prominent church leaders to develop his considerable,
God-given intellectual abilities, and by 1872, Magnus had returned
to Salt Lake City from Yale University with a prestigious law
degree. Joining a prosperous law firm in Salt Lake City, Magnus
married Harriet Cumberland, the senior partner’s daughter, early in
1873, and practiced law for the next eight years, becoming a
partner after just three years. Harold Stromberg, their first
child, was born in December, 1873, and when the boy was only six,
his father responded to a call to serve a mission to Wales. His
willingness to set aside his growing law practice and his young
family, though such a sacrifice was not thought unusual in the
Mormon community, was evidence of his commitment to the church and
loyalty to the Brethren.

Over the years, Cumberland, Stottle, &
Stromberg became one of Salt Lake City’s premier law firms,
representing banking interests in Utah, as well as affiliate
financial interests on the east and west coasts. When the elder
Cumberland died, and his original partner, Frederick Stottle,
became disaffected with the church, Magnus Stromberg bought out
Stottle’s shares, and by 1886, Stromberg, together with his new
partner, Jacob Thorensen, represented clients from throughout the
western United States. Along the way, Magnus Stromberg Jr. had
become a highly respected and influential member of the community,
while continuing to be a devoted member of the church.

Harold Stromberg’s return in 1895 from his
mission to Scandinavia and his enrollment at the University of
Utah, was all part of his father’s plan to see the continuation of
the law firm of Stromberg, Thorensen, & Stromberg. Harold’s
pending marriage to Katrina Hansen would provide the young man just
the kind of responsibilities his father felt Harold would need to
ensure his professional and spiritual growth.

Magnus Stromberg’s lasting desire, however,
was that the church follow the will of the Lord in the matter of
plural marriage. He had understood the political expediency of the
issuing of the Manifesto, but with statehood now securely in hand,
he had no doubt the Prophet would reinstate “the principle” as a
matter of official or unofficial church policy and practice. The
will of the Lord could now be carried out by His people.

That assurance, and a strong desire to help
the process along, was the reason behind the meeting Magnus
Stromberg had arranged for early one morning in March, 1896. With
statehood now an accomplished fact and General Conference scheduled
to begin the following week, Magnus was certain that President
Wilford Woodruff would reinstate the Principle and all would be
right again in Zion.

“Good morning, Sister Adams. I believe I have
an appointment this morning with President Cannon,” Stromberg said,
entering President George Q. Cannon’s home, which was situated two
blocks west of Temple Square.

“And a good morning to you, Brother
Stromberg. The President is just meeting with one of the Brethren.
I’m sure he’ll be right with you. Please, have a seat.”

“Thank you,” he said.

George Q. Cannon served as First Counselor to
President Wilford Woodruff in the First Presidency of the church,
the senior ruling body that, together with the Quorum of the Twelve
Apostles, determined the policies of The church of Jesus Christ of
Latter-day Saints. In earlier years, President Cannon had been a
fugitive from justice and was briefly imprisoned for practicing
plural marriage in violation of federal laws forbidding it.

The church’s practice of polygamy isolated
the church and angered many in the United States, but none more
than those congressmen and senators who opposed Utah’s quest for
statehood. Along with the institution of slavery, polygamy was
popularly referred to by the enemies of the church as one of the
“twin relics of barbarism.” The church was also viewed nationally
with suspicion for what was perceived as the exercise of inordinate
influence in the affairs of Utah government.

In Magnus Stromberg’s mind, the Manifesto, in
which President Woodruff declared the end of the practice of
polygamy, was but a capitulation to mobocrats, notwithstanding
their congressional titles. Now that statehood had been achieved,
he felt that error could be rectified. And the sooner the better,
Stromberg thought. The church had endured enough government
intervention. It was time for the will of the Lord to be
upheld.

“Good morning, Brother Stromberg,” President
Cannon said, wrapping a huge embrace around his old friend. A large
man, whose silver hair curled around the edges of his gentle face,
President Cannon was beloved by his people and by those of his
household. A publisher by trade, Cannon had founded in 1866 a
retail bookstore and publishing house that did business under the
name George Q. Cannon & Sons.

“And what brings you to my humble home this
beautiful morning, Magnus?” Cannon smiled.

“Just a friendly visit, President, and one
long overdue, I’m afraid. I haven’t taken the opportunity to shake
your hand since statehood became a reality. I’m most appreciative
of the role you played in our success.”

“It was a long time coming, Magnus. A very
long time,” Cannon said, motioning for Stromberg to take a
seat.

“And how is Frank progressing toward becoming
our United States Senator, President?” Stromberg asked, aware that
President Cannon’s son, Frank, was a prime prospect for
appointment.

Cannon smiled broadly. “It seems the state
legislature thinks he’s the man.”

“Good. Very good. Anything that my law firm
can do to assist, President, you know we’re only too glad to
help.”

“Thank you, Magnus,” Cannon offered. “That’s
reassuring. And your son, Harold, is about to be married, so I
hear.”

“Indeed he is. To a lovely girl from a new
family. The Hansens from Norway. A family he baptized, I might
add.”

“Fine thing, Magnus. Wonderful news. So,” he
said, “what can I do for you this morning on the eve of our first
general conference since statehood?”

Stromberg smiled a wide, happy smile. “We’re
in, President. After all the bickering, infighting, and opposition
from all quarters, even the Gentiles agreed with us that it was
time for statehood. How does the President see it?” Stromberg
queried, referring to President Woodruff.

“He’s very pleased, Magnus. He believes that
now the people can get on with their lives, turn their hearts
toward the Lord and go on about His work.”

“Exactly,” Magnus Stromberg stated, rising
and crossing to the window of Cannon’s front room office. “I
couldn’t have said it better myself. That’s a wonderful piece of
news, President.”

Turning to look at Cannon, Stromberg said,
“So, we might expect some formal announcement from President
Woodruff on the matter in conference?”

“Announcement?” Cannon said.

“Perhaps not an announcement, but some . . .
clarification maybe,” Stromberg offered. “I can imagine that you,
of all people will be most relieved. Your steadfastness in keeping
the Principle has been an inspiration to us all. I am heartily
pleased that you will now profit from its reinstatement. It will be
a blessing for your family, George.”

Cannon rose and came to stand alongside
Stromberg at the window. They were about the same height and they
stood now, eye to eye. “I don’t follow, Brother Stromberg. What
reinstatement?”