Chapter 14

Are you certain everything is ready on your end?” Mr. Smith asked Elias Carter.

The squat, fat man mopped his perspiring brow. “We’re ready when you are. The men are more than anxious to see this thing started and finished. As soon as word comes of the uprising, we will do our part and storm Salem with our demands.”

Smith smiled. “Good. I’m glad to hear everyone is being so cooperative. I was rather concerned that some of our men were less than committed.”

“No, no. Everyone is of like mind. We all want to see the Indians removed.”

Smith could see the poor man was nearly ready to have a heart attack. “Look, Carter, it might suit you to have a few drinks. You look nervous.” Only then did it dawn on Smith that perhaps Carter was anxious for another reason. “You haven’t chosen to abandon our side, have you?”

The fat man’s eyes widened. “No. No, sir. These things just always make me a little nervous. Are you sure we’ll be safe enough in Portland? No need to send my family east for a time?”

Smith studied him for a moment, then shook his head. “No, they’ll be quite safe here, I can assure you. Besides, if you were to do that, it might start a panic amongst the others. We wouldn’t want that to happen when we’re so close to victory, would we?”

Carter shook his head and swallowed hard. “No, sir.”

“Good.” Smith picked up his walking stick. “I’m counting on you, Elias.”

Smith made his way from the building and hailed a cab. The driver opened the carriage for him. “Where to, sir?”

“The Grand Hotel.” Smith settled back into the worn leather seats of the hired conveyance. It wasn’t the quality he preferred, but it would get him where he needed to go.

He thought about the meetings he’d had and wondered if he’d covered every possibility. He was determined that nothing go wrong. He’d worked too long and hard to see this thing to fruition. Now they were heading into the final days, and the thrill of the game was driving him forward in a frenzy of excitement. Once it was all said and done, a new world would dawn in Oregon. A world in which they would finally be rid of the Indians.

Smith smiled and began to hum a tune he’d heard at the opera the night before. Life was good, and it was about to get so much better.

“I thought I might never see you again,” Faith declared as she embraced her old friend Red Deer. The Tututni woman, who was now called Ann, was the mother of Mary, Faith’s playmate when she lived on the Rogue River. “I didn’t know you were here. I looked for you once when I came to spend the summer with my aunt and uncle, but they said you were at the Siletz Reservation.”

Ann cupped Faith’s cheeks with a fond smile, then dropped her hands. “I was. After my husband died, I went to live with Mary and her family.”

Faith shook her head. “It’s so hard to imagine Mary grown with children of her own.”

“She has four and is expecting another. She’s been blessed that their health has been so good.”

“I married a few months ago and am hoping to have children of my own one day,” Faith said. “Family is everything to me.”

“Mary feels that way too. She is quite happy, even living on the reservation. Her husband is a hardworking man who has learned to farm.”

“I want to hear all about them, but first let me introduce someone.” Faith stepped back. “Do you know my cousin Connie? She is Mercy and Adam Browning’s daughter.”

Ann looked at Connie and smiled. “I heard about her coming home. I knew her when she was a very small child, but then I went to Siletz to live. I’m pleased to meet you again, Connie.”

“I’m glad to meet you too, Ann—Red Deer.”

“Connie is working with a young man to write about the culture and heritage of the various tribes. The government doesn’t want your history to be lost.”

“I heard about that. The people are very guarded and uncertain about why the government wants this.”

“I think it’s probably a good thing,” Faith said, looking thoughtful. “The tribes need to ensure that future people will know all about what went on in the past. I think telling the history will help the tribes to remain a part of the future.”

Ann nodded. “I hope that is true and that it is a good thing.”

“I would never do anything to harm the real people,” Connie declared. “They are like family to me.”

Ann nodded again and patted Connie’s arm. “Come in and rest. I have fresh apple cider and warm bread. We can talk more.”

Connie followed Faith into the well-kept house. She was more than a little impressed with how nicely arranged the house was. There was a large open living area with three doors on the far wall. “You have a lovely home.”

“Thank you. We are blessed.”

Faith nodded. “Tell us how it has been with you all these years.”

“It is good. After my husband died, I married Will Orleans—a Yamhill man with a good reputation. He has four sons and a daughter. I helped to raise them, especially his daughter, Ruth. The boys are all married with their own family. Ruth is married and expecting her first baby. She’ll be stopping by soon so that we can work on baby clothes.”

Faith seemed so happy. “I’m only here for a short time with my mother and father. We came to visit my aunt and uncle. If you’d allow me to help, I’d love to stay. Then we could really catch up on all the years.”

“I would like that. And you, Connie? Would you like to stay and help?”

“For a little while, if you don’t mind.” Connie smiled. “You should know that Faith is very good at stitching. She’s now a certified surgeon.”

Ann frowned. “A surgeon?”

“I am a doctor who can perform surgeries,” Faith explained. “When someone is injured inside their body, I can cut into them and fix the problem, then sew them back up.”

Ann nodded. “A surgeon,” she tried the word again. “That is wonderful. I’m sure you save many people. Sit at my table, please.”

Connie and Faith sat down just as a light knock sounded and the door opened again to admit a young woman heavy with child. She looked at Connie and Faith with great apprehension.

Ann brought a plate of freshly sliced bread and a bowl of butter to the table. “Ruth, come in. I was just telling my old friends about you.”

The shy young woman stepped up to the table. She wore her hair in braids but pinned up. Her dark eyes searched the room and then her stepmother’s face.

“This is Faith,” Ann said. “I knew her when we lived on the Rogue River before the great march. And this is Connie, her cousin. Connie’s parents are Adam and Mercy Browning.”

Ruth smiled and gave a slight nod.

“They are going to help us make baby clothes and talk about the old days.”

Seeing her stepmother so at ease, Ruth seemed to relax. She eased onto a chair and sighed.

“Ruth is due anytime,” Ann explained. “I am so happy for her to have a baby of her own. She will be such a good mother.”

Connie smiled. “I’m sure you will be a great mother.”

“And you are blessed to have Ann as your stepmother. She taught me so much,” Faith said. “Her daughter Mary was my very best friend when we lived with the Tututni.”

Ruth looked surprised. “You lived with the Indians?”

“Yes, and it was wonderful. Oh, how I sometimes long for those days. We swam in the river and played in the forest. We were so carefree. It wasn’t like the way the government has made the reservations. We were a part of the Tututni village.”

Ann’s eyes were edged with tears. “It was a good life.”

Faith reached out and touched Ann’s arm. “I am so sorry for all that was lost. It should never have happened.”

“So many people died on the march here,” Ann remembered. “There was so much pain. The government did not care how the soldiers hurt us. We did not want war, but now I fear we will have it again.”

“Why do you say that?” Connie asked.

Ann and Ruth exchanged a look. “There is so much unrest,” Ann finally said. “The men—they are not happy. I fear it will lead to war.”

Ruth nodded. “I fear for my child.” She put her hand to her stomach.

“Is there talk of war?” Connie pressed. “I have heard rumors.”

“There is always talk of war. Each time the men hear of someone standing up to the white man, they get ideas.”

“Sam says we will defeat the white man,” Ruth said, her voice a whisper. “But I am afraid for what it will mean for us.”

Connie shook her head. “Is Sam your husband?”

“Yes. Samson Sheridan.”

Now she understood. “I met your husband. The Sheridans were once good friends to my mother and father.”

Ruth nodded. “I know. Now there is only bitterness between my husband’s family and yours.”

“There is no bitterness in my family. My father misses his friendship with Joseph. Do your husband and father-in-law not realize they would have been killed like so many others? If they had left the reservation, the soldiers would have hunted them down and killed them. They didn’t even care about returning runaways to the reservation. It was too much trouble. They just shot them and left them to rot. It shames me deeply to think of our soldiers acting that way, but it was how they did things and probably still is.”

“Sam has so much hate,” Ruth said, shaking her head.

Ann sighed. “It is true. I knew his mother. Of all her children, he was the happiest. But not anymore . . . I fear for him.”

“I do too,” Ruth said, wiping tears from her eyes. “I fear soon I will be a widow with a child, dependent upon others for my well-being.”

“Why do you say ‘soon’?” Connie asked. “Do you know of something specific that is being planned?”

Ruth looked upset. She turned to Ann, a look of questioning in her eyes. Ann nodded, and Ruth turned back to Connie. “There is talk of a war coming.”

Ann held her stepdaughter’s hand. “We hope it is nothing more than talk, but the men are making plans. They’ve been working with someone outside of the reservation, but I do not know who. It must be a white man, however. Who else could bring them guns?”

“Someone is bringing the men guns? Have you ever told my parents or Agent Singleton?”

“No. If word got back that we had, we would be shunned forever,” Ann replied. “We are so afraid for what might happen. If our men kill the white settlers, the soldiers will come and kill all of us.”

Faith scooted her chair closer to Ann’s and put her arm around her old friend. “If you know anything about it, you must tell us. We won’t say where the information came from, but we must stop a war if we can. You are right that there are so many white people who want only to see the real people dead. We cannot let them win.”

“Why do you care so much about what happens to us?” Ruth asked.

Faith looked around. “Can you keep a secret? Would you swear an oath to me to say nothing of what I tell you?”

Ann smiled. “Of course. You are my friend—like a daughter to me.”

Ruth gave a reluctant nod. “If my stepmother says it, then so do I.”

“I am part Indian. If they work to kill all of the Indians, they will probably want to kill me too.”

Connie wasn’t comfortable enough to include herself in that statement as well, but she nodded to confirm that what Faith said was true. She didn’t know if the women believed Faith, but Faith didn’t seem to think they would question her.

“My mother was forced by a Cayuse brave, and I was born,” Faith explained.

“You do not look Indian,” Ruth said, staring hard at Faith’s face.

“No. I don’t. My mother said that was God’s blessing for me, because I lived with white people. But I also lived with Native people, and I love both. I know people can live as one and love the other—if they allow God to control their hearts.”

“We believe in the one God,” Ruth replied. “My mother taught me.” She looked at Ann and smiled. The smile faded as she continued, “But my husband does not believe in God. He did once, as did his father, but now he wants no part of it. He’s angry at God.”

“You can’t be angry at God if you don’t believe in Him,” Faith declared. “I think your husband is just angry. He probably feels that God has let him down—hasn’t treated him fairly. God can work on his heart. You must pray for him.”

“We will pray for him too,” Connie said, remembering how angry Samson Sheridan had been when she and Tom tried to talk to him. Only love could quell anger. Perhaps the love she showed to Ruth would be a start. She smiled and rubbed her hands together. “I’m looking forward to helping you with the baby clothes. I helped sew a baby quilt just a few months back. I’m also very good at embroidering. Perhaps I could embroider some of your family’s basket patterns on the gowns.”

“You can do that?” Ruth asked in awe.

“I believe I can.” Connie gave her a smile. “I can do this for my new friend.”

“But they didn’t have a date for when this war would begin?” Tom asked as Connie explained what they’d learned at Ann’s house.

“No, but they felt it would be soon. Ann told me that if she heard when the men would next be at the river to receive guns and whiskey, she would tell me.”

Tom glanced toward the sky. It would soon be dark. He’d convinced Connie to take a walk with him, but there had been plenty of light then. “I think we should get back to the house.” He looked around. They were farther from the house than he’d intended.

Connie followed suit, scanning their surroundings. “Are you worried something will happen to us?”

“I can’t rule it out. It would be foolish to remain out here, just the two of us.” Without thought to what he was doing, he took Connie’s hand. “Come on.”

She looked at him oddly but said nothing. In fact, she was strangely silent until they reached her parents’ house. She was trembling by the time he let go of her hand.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said. Connie crossed her arms over her chest, and he continued. “I know it won’t sit well with you, but I think you shouldn’t travel away from the house alone. In fact, I think we should probably start carrying a gun with us when we go around the reservation.”

Still she said nothing.

Tom took a small step closer to her. “Don’t worry. You should pray too. You once told me that God brought us here for a reason. If that’s true, I don’t think it was for us to die in a massacre.”

“Have you changed your mind about God? You sound almost as if you believe He exists.”

“I have to admit your father is very persuasive. I think I convinced myself there was no God because so many people were suffering. I couldn’t understand how there could be a good God who would stand by and allow such evil in the world. If God can do anything—then why not offer unconditional protection to those who choose to serve Him?”

“I’ve never heard you even allow for the possibility that God exists, much less consider His actions.”

He smiled. “Like I said, your father is very persuasive and learned. I can’t say that I’m ready to accept all that you believe, but I’m spending a lot of time reading Scriptures and trying to be open-minded.”

“I’m amazed by that and, well, happy. I don’t want you to go to hell. It bothers me a lot to think that someone I care for would be lost.”

Her words touched him. “Well, maybe from time to time you can start talking to me again about all that stuff you used to tell me when you were just a child. I remember quite vividly that you always quoted one verse in particular.”

She nodded. “Romans ten. ‘That if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved.’ I remember it well. I remember your response too.”

“I’m afraid to imagine what it was.” Tom tried his best to remember.

“‘If it was that simple, Connie, everyone would do it . . . everyone who was willing to believe the fairy tale that God really exists.’” She shook her head. “You used to frustrate me so much. I prayed for you all the time—that God would open your eyes before it was too late.”

“But you stopped?”

“Stopped what?”

“Stopped praying for me.” He suddenly felt very alone.

“Of course not.” Connie sounded disturbed that he would even think such a thing. “I still pray for you. I pray for you every night as I fall asleep.”

Tom wanted to pull her into his arms to kiss her and thank her. He knew her beliefs—knew how important she thought it was to pray. That she spent time praying for him made him love her all the more.

“Oh, there you two are.” Connie’s father came out of the house. “Isaac suggested we play our Bible game tonight.”

“Bible game?” Tom asked.

Connie smiled and nodded. “Papa made us a Bible game with questions about the Bible. We answer them, and the person who gets the most right in a certain amount of time wins the game. It’s a lot of fun.”

Tom shrugged. “I don’t know how good I’ll be at something like that, but it sounds like fun.”

“Maybe we could have teams, rather than playing individually. You and Connie could be on one team, and Isaac and Mother on the other,” Mr. Browning suggested.

Connie looped her arm through her father’s. “I think that idea is perfect. I hope Mama has dessert for us too. The game isn’t nearly as much fun without dessert.”

Her father laughed as they disappeared into the house.

Tom stared after them for a moment. Maybe it was time to talk to Connie’s father and tell him how he felt. Maybe Mr. Browning could offer some advice on how to court Connie.

Court Connie.

The thought made him smile despite the fact that he felt as if he’d been courting Connie for the last seven years. He glanced heavenward. “If you really are up there, then maybe you’ll help me.” He had to laugh to himself. He had just prayed—well, after a fashion. He had prayed to a God he still wasn’t completely convinced existed.

“Tom, are you going to join the family?” Connie called from the house.

He chuckled and murmured to himself, “If I have any say about it, I am.”