The next time Henrik went to the valleys of the mountains in western America, Marie accompanied him. They were married in the Temple, made man and wife for time and eternity by the authority of the Priesthood. That event was among their supremely happy ones. Rachel witnessed the ceremony, and the smile on her face was sweeter than ever.
After that, Marie helped in the temple work as she had desired. The three then labored together until Henrik’s list of names was nearly exhausted. After a very pleasant visit among friends, Henrik and Marie went back to Norway and to Nordal. They made a new home from the ancient one on the hillside by the forest, and for them the years went by in peace and plenty. Sons and daughters came to them, to whom they taught the gospel. In time many of his kin also believed the truth and accepted it, and thus the seed that was sown in humility, and at first brought but small returns, gave promise of a bounteous harvest.
Once every four or five years, Henrik and Marie visited the Saints in the West, and spent some time in the temple. These were happy times for Rachel, who continued to live alone, not making many intimate acquaintances. Henrik was glad to provide for her simple necessities, so that she could continue her life’s work in behalf of the dead.
Rachel did not marry. Once in Minnesota, a young man had made love to her, but she could not return that love, so she was in duty bound not to encourage him. Rachel was hard to get acquainted with, a number of young men had said. She was always happy and smiling, and yet a closer knowledge of her character disclosed a serious strain that puzzled her admirers—for Rachel had admirers. A number of times good men had been about to make love to her in earnest, but each time some strange feeling had checked them. The young woman was “willing” enough but what could she do? There was without doubt a “man” for her, but she could not go in search of him. As the years went by, and with them her youth and somewhat of her beauty, she was often sad, and sometimes heart-hungry; and at such times she found no peace until she had poured out her heart to her heavenly Father, and said, “Thy will be done—but make me satisfied.”
After an absence of three years Rachel visited her home in Minnesota. She was received kindly, the parents being no doubt grateful that she had escaped alive from the clutches of those “terrible people” whom she had been among. She could still smile and be happy, be more patient than ever, taking in good part the ridicule and sometimes the abuse directed toward her. She talked on the gospel with those who would listen, and after a time she found that she was making a little headway. Her father, at the first, told her emphatically that she was not to “preach her religion” in his house; but he would sometimes forget himself and ask her a question, which in being answered would lead to a gospel discourse. Then, awakening to what was going on, he would say, “That will do. I thought I told you that we wanted none of your preaching,” at which Rachel would smilingly look around to the others who were also smiling at the father’s inconsistencies.