Chapter 7

I’m sorry I wasn’t able to come see you while Mr. Tom Lowell was still in town,” Major Wells told Seth. “I would have appreciated getting to meet him.”

“We discussed the situation and the things I’d learned in the past. I told him about our concerns about who was now in charge, since Lakewood and Berkshire are dead.” Seth shook his head. “We know there are others involved, but no doubt they are being very cautious.”

“No doubt.” Major Wells picked up the cup of coffee Nancy had poured him earlier. “Even the local gatherings are being less public with their speaking events.”

“Perhaps they realize that they’re being watched. I don’t trust that Gerome Berkshire kept such things to himself. He might have been spying for us to save himself from jail, but I know he wasn’t completely forthcoming with information.”

Wells put the cup back on the table with a nod. “It will be good to have a man at one of the reservations.”

“And a woman.” Seth chuckled. “Nancy’s cousin Connie is not easily dismissed. She is angry about her folks being accused. She intends to see them cleared of any supposed guilt. I thought Nancy was stubborn, but Connie is more tenacious than any of them. She’s also the adventurous type. She won’t back down from a challenge, even if it’s dangerous.”

“That could cause more trouble than good,” Wells replied. “I can’t believe the officials brought her in on this.”

“They didn’t. Connie more or less imposed herself on them. They don’t know it, however, and I need your promise that you’ll say nothing on the matter.”

Wells frowned. “I owe my allegiance to the government of the United States.”

“I realize that. I’m only asking that you don’t volunteer this information. I’m sharing this with you because I want you to understand how much I believe in this family and their innocence. Please say nothing.”

“Very well. I’ll remain silent for now. However, if I see something amiss, I’ll have to reconsider.” His brow furrowed. “There very well could be unforeseen problems. I’ve never known women to keep a balanced mind when emotional connections were concerned. I fear that her love of her parents will blind her.”

Seth shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think she’s a very collected and reasonable young woman. I believe she’ll be beneficial to everyone concerned.”

“And if it turns out her parents are involved? Will she be forthcoming with the truth?”

Seth considered the question. “I believe she will be the first to declare the truth. It won’t be easy, and she won’t like it, but Connie is staunch in her desire for truth. She would want to see her parents directed toward redemption.” Again, he shook his head. “But her parents aren’t a part of this. Everyone who knows them refuses to believe they have even the slightest part in stirring the Indians to war. They love those people and have put their lives on the line many times in order to prevent confrontation.”

“I hope you’re right,” Major Wells said, reaching again for his coffee. “I’d hate to see your wife or any of your family have to deal with the situation should it prove their family is involved.”

“Just remember your promise to keep Connie’s part in this a secret. I know I can trust you, or I would never have told you. I just couldn’t help feeling it was right to tell you. I believe it was God’s prompting.”

“I’ll say nothing.” The major chuckled. “Although I hardly think God concerns Himself with me.”

“Of course He does,” Seth countered. “He concerns Himself with all of us, no matter our position or place. I feel confident it’s God’s Spirit that makes it so evident to me that the Brownings are innocent.”

“It must be, because you’ve convinced me of the Brownings’ innocence as well.” The major got to his feet. “Hopefully we can soon prove it.”

Hours after Wells had departed, Seth sat in the kitchen, relating what they had discussed to Faith and Nancy. The two women wanted to know every detail of the investigation’s progress.

“The major said they have a list of men who are watched closely. Most are the laborers who are moving the guns and whiskey. They’ve taken an inordinate amount of whiskey to the reservations, but it’s been allowed to pass through. Wells is afraid that if they intercept the deliveries, it will compromise the rest of the investigation.”

“I hate to think of the harm it’s doing.” Faith looked dismayed. “Alcohol will just cause increasing problems on the reservation.”

“I’m sure you’re right, but I’m also confident the major’s concerns are warranted. We’ve come too far to give it all away now. Wells said that everything indicates it won’t be long until the planned uprising takes place. He would stop it all now, but we don’t have the man responsible for planning all of this. Without finding him, we’ll only have to deal with him trying this again and again.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” Nancy said, placing her hand atop his. “It’s just such a helpless feeling to sit here and not be able to do anything.”

“We can pray,” Seth said, smiling. “Look what it’s done for me—for us.” He squeezed her fingers. “God is good. He won’t let the innocent be condemned.”

“He allowed His only Son to be condemned, and He was innocent,” Nancy murmured. “Others have fallen under false accusation to God’s glory. You can’t say that it won’t happen to Uncle Adam and Aunt Mercy. You can’t be sure.”

“But I am sure of God’s righteousness. No matter what happens, we either trust in Him or we don’t.” He looked at Nancy and then Faith. “The choice is ours, and for me, I believe there is only one choice, and that is to trust. The alternative has no hope for me.”

“Nor me,” Nancy admitted. “I know Faith feels the same way.”

“I do.” Faith sighed. “God has already brought me through so much—you two as well. We know we live in a fallen world and that bad things will continue to happen, but we know too that God is faithful. He will deliver us and our family from this mess. He will let the truth be revealed, because Adam and Mercy belong to Jesus, and He is the truth.”

“It looks rather hopeless at the moment,” Connie’s father said in a hushed voice, “but our trust is in God.”

Connie had joined her folks at the kitchen table, where many a problem had been discussed over the years. She was sharing with them all that she knew, starting at the beginning. “Tom was given reports on the investigation thus far. Apparently Nancy’s first husband was a central figure for a time. He was recruited to buy large quantities of weapons and liquor. He hid these in secret caches and kept separate records regarding what had been purchased. The money for the guns and whiskey was given to him by a group of businessmen in Portland. One of those men was Gerome Berkshire and another was Samuel Lakewood. Berkshire was the contact for Nancy’s husband. Berkshire arranged for the contents of the caches to be delivered to the reservations via his various workers. Berkshire, in turn, answered to Lakewood, who answered to someone else. We don’t know who that person is or even if that person is the top man, but there is reason to believe he is.”

“So the whiskey was brought by Berkshire’s men to the reservation, and they got the whiskey and guns from Nancy’s first husband, Albert Pritchard,” her father repeated, mulling this over. “How long do they believe this has been going on?”

“At least three years,” Connie replied. “Probably longer, but they have proof of that long.”

“We knew the men here were getting liquor,” Mama said, glancing at Connie’s father, “but we were never able to figure out how. I mean, to get that much liquor onto the reservation unnoticed would take quite a few people coordinating it.”

“And there were. Berkshire had a whole force of workers. At least thirty, at last count.”

“But I don’t understand why they think your mother and I are involved.” Her father sounded hurt—betrayed.

“They know you were unhappy with the transfer of preaching and teaching to the Catholic Church,” Connie offered. “I believe they thought this triggered you to want to get back at the government.”

“That transfer took place years ago.” Her father’s brown eyes darkened to nearly black. “I wasn’t happy to lose the job I felt God had called me to, but I wouldn’t do anything to harm these people. I’ve worked closely with Father Croquet over the years to help the Indians and was pleasantly surprised that he was so supportive of the Native people keeping their culture. It’s not his fault that the government has enforced rules about westernizing the Indians.” He paused. “I love these people, Connie. I would never do anything to hurt them.”

“I know. That’s why I’m determined to help Tom prove your innocence.” Connie reached over and gave her father’s arm a pat. “Papa, we know how much you love the people here. Tom and I will do all we can.”

Her mother hung her head. “I just can’t understand why they would accuse us without even coming to talk to us.”

Connie felt bad for them both. They were so secluded and hidden away from the games and nonsense that went on elsewhere. Until recently, they’d had no idea they were at the center of such a large conflict.

“Are other reservations involved?” Papa asked.

“Warm Springs and Siletz are a part of it too. The government thinks there may be others. The thought is that whoever has planned this wanted all the reservations to rise up at once. It will make for massive destruction and many lives lost. The ultimate goal is to cause such damage that the white population will demand the Indians be removed to an even more remote location. There was even talk about sending them to the new lands purchased in the far north.”

“Seward’s Folly,” Papa murmured.

“Yes. There are already Native people there, and it has been suggested that it might be a good place to put all of them.”

“Does no one understand or even care that each tribe has its own desired location?” Papa asked. “It’s been bad enough to see them separated from their original homelands and forced onto reservations, but the idea of completely removing them to some desolate region that they’re ill-prepared to deal with is appalling.”

“If we can stop the uprising from happening, there will be no reason to remove them.” Connie heard Tom and Clint talking as they came into the house and didn’t want to risk being overheard. She put her finger to her lips. “Hopefully Tom and I will get it all figured out. Things will be different.”

“Did I hear that something is different?” Clint asked as he and Tom came into the room.

Connie hoped that was all he’d overheard. “Yes. Things are so different here at the reservation. The storm really did a lot of damage. I’m surprised you haven’t done more to see it restored.”

Clint frowned and sat down at the table uninvited. “A person can only accomplish so much. Your father understands that. The Indian Legislature has done what it can to work with the people to restore the lumber mill, but it was in disrepair, and it will take money to get it working again. Unfortunately, none of the tribal people seem to want to put the time and effort into it.”

Connie remembered, years earlier, when the mill had worked perfectly and made a tidy profit. Unfortunately, the Indian agent at the time had violated the agreement and taken the profits. He later apologized, saying it was all a misunderstanding, but the damage was done. Connie was certain the money was never returned. It was little wonder the people had no heart for working the mill.

“It’s a pity we aren’t closer to Uncle Alex’s lumber mills. I’m sure he would help make things right. I wonder if there’s someone we can contact about the matter. Someone who actually cares.”

“Connie.” Her father’s disapproving tone let her know she’d crossed a line.

“I’m doing my best,” Clint said, looking wounded.

Connie knew she’d hurt him. She didn’t know why she felt so harsh toward him. Certainly, part of it was based on the past. Maybe all of it was. She hated the way he’d made fun of her when they’d first met in Portland, and she hated that he’d let her mother and father be blamed for something he knew they had no part in. Of course, there was the possibility that Clint knew nothing of the accusations. After all, she hadn’t had time to ask her father what, if anything, he and Clint had discussed about the situation.

It was only then that she realized she was very angry with Clint. She didn’t feel at all like showing him grace, and a sense of guilt begin to rise within her. She needed to show kindness—to forgive the past and move forward. Her attitude was completely uncalled for. Just because a godly young man who worked with her father had spurned her romantic notions was no call to be ugly.

“I’m sorry.” She barely breathed the words, but at least she meant them. “I’m just frustrated that things look so bad. I suppose it could always be worse, and I know the storm wasn’t your fault, Clint.”

He met her eyes and smiled. “I probably had it coming. I’ve been rather discouraged with the way things have gone. You can ask your father. We’ve talked about it on more than one occasion.”

“We have, and no doubt will again,” Connie’s father declared. He looked at Connie’s mother.

“Well, I need to get back to work.” Clint smiled and headed for the door.

“Clint, you will join us for supper, won’t you?” Connie’s mother asked.

He glanced over his shoulder with a smile. “I’d like that, Mrs. Browning.”

“Wonderful. We’ll sit down at six.”

Connie helped her mother with kitchen chores while her father and Tom got better acquainted. Later, while supper simmered on the stove, she made her way outside and filled Tom in on what she’d discussed with her folks. He reciprocated, telling her what he and Clint had discussed. His words seemed guarded, however, and Connie couldn’t understand what was going on with him. They had retired to the small front porch, and Connie was determined to get to the bottom of whatever was going on.

“What’s wrong? You haven’t been yourself all day.”

Tom shrugged. “I’ve just stepped into an investigation that could see your folks imprisoned. This area is new to me, and I’m burdened with the fact that the Indian people here might never accept me, to name just a few things.”

She leaned against the porch rail. “Is that all?”

He laughed. “Isn’t it enough?”

Connie considered that a moment. “I just feel like there’s a wall between us. Are you just tired, or have I offended you?”

“I’m not offended. Just curious.”

She frowned. “About what?”

“You never told your folks that I was an atheist.”

Connie shrugged. “I figured it was yours to tell.”

“You know we used to have conversations about God, but then you stopped sharing your beliefs. Why was that?”

Guilt oozed from the places she’d stuffed it. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t want to hurt your feelings or destroy our friendship.”

“And you thought it would?”

Connie looked away, unable to bear his gaze. “I’m not sure what I thought. I knew you felt the way you did and that I would probably never convince you otherwise. It bothered me so much that you didn’t believe in God.”

“Then why didn’t you just say that?”

She sighed. “I don’t know.”

“I think you do.” His tone was accusing.

Connie had never felt so uncomfortable in her life. She knew exactly why she had stopped talking about God and the Bible—why she hadn’t continued to encourage Tom to believe in God.

“Connie?”

She forced herself to look at him. “Some of the things you were saying scared me. My own faith wasn’t very strong—in fact, I really hadn’t made it my own. I was still relying on my mother and father’s faith. I knew I needed to focus on building my own beliefs and knowing God better, or . . .” She stopped, uncertain she could or should explain.

“Or what?” He put his hand on her arm. “Connie, we’re too good of friends for you not to know you can be honest with me.”

“I know. But this . . . well, it wasn’t about you, Tom. It was about me. The things you were saying about why you didn’t believe in God were starting to make sense.” She paused long enough to swallow the lump in her throat. “I wasn’t strong enough in my faith. I stopped talking to you about it because I was afraid that I would start to think like you did. I was already so bitter about what had happened with Clint. Not only that, but I missed my home and family. I was scared, and when I talked to Aunt Phinny, she suggested I not talk to you about issues of faith for a time. And after a while, it just didn’t seem that important. We always had other things to talk about.”

Tom folded his arms. “I never considered that I was swaying you to forget your own faith.”

“But don’t you see, it wasn’t really my faith. It was what I’d been raised to believe. It was the teachings I’d been given, but I had to come to know God for myself. And I do now.”

He smiled ever so slightly. “Does that mean you’ll talk to me again about my beliefs? Will you try to get me into heaven?”

She wasn’t at all sure what to say. A part of her wanted to beg him to believe in God and the Bible. “I will always be willing to talk to you about what I believe, but I think maybe this time it’s more important for you to worry about what you believe and why. I think you should talk to my father. As you’ve seen, he won’t condemn you, and you will probably find it a very interesting conversation.”

“I’m sure I will.” He looked like he might say something else but didn’t. He got to his feet. “I’m heading up to my room for a quick nap before supper. I think everything has caught up with me.” He smiled. “Are we still friends?”

She nodded. “You will always be my best friend, Tom. No matter what.”

“What about your husband?”

Connie frowned. “What husband?”

Tom chuckled. “What will you do when you finally marry? As a man, I know I wouldn’t want my wife calling another man her best friend.”

She shrugged. “Then I guess I won’t ever get married.”

He gave her a look she couldn’t interpret, then turned and left without a word.

Connie felt a deep sadness that she couldn’t understand. She let Tom go without further prying and took a seat in her mother’s favorite rocking chair. Why did all of this with Tom bother her so much?

“Why should it bother me?” she murmured. “Foolish woman, why shouldn’t it bother you?”

Without Christ as his Savior, Tom would die and be forever separated from God. How could she just ignore that? Just yesterday she had been reading her Bible about the rich man and Lazarus. Chapter sixteen of Luke made it very clear that heaven and hell were real places. The rich man begged for help, first for water and then for Lazarus to be sent to warn his five brothers about hell.

Abraham saith unto him, They have Moses and the prophets; let them hear them. And he said, Nay, father Abraham: but if one went unto them from the dead, they will repent. And he said unto him, If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded, though one rose from the dead.

She stared for a moment at the words. Jesus was the One who rose from the dead, and still people denied He could save them from torment and hell. Tom denied it. Tears came to her eyes. He was her dearest friend in all the world, and despite this, she hadn’t wanted to upset him with the truth or risk the possibility of losing his friendship.

“But unless he believes in Jesus, he will be lost for all eternity.”