The teacher concluded their school year by having them stand and recite the Lord’s Prayer. After that they were dismissed, and the revelry began.
“I thought he’d never stop talking,” Otis Banks said, leaning closer to Mercy than she liked. “Want to take a walk by the river with me?”
“No, thank you,” Mercy replied. “I have chores and need to get home.”
Otis shrugged and turned away to discuss the hanging with some of the other boys. Mercy hurried to collect her things. Beth Cranston, her dearest friend in all the world, came to stand beside her.
“I heard Otis ask you to walk out with him.” Beth smiled. “I think he’s very nice-looking, and his father is very wealthy. He plans to buy a steamship.”
“I don’t care about that.” Mercy stacked some books as the teacher had asked her to do earlier. “Otis may be very nice to look at, but there’s a meanness to him that I can’t abide.”
Beth shrugged and gave her long blond hair a casual stroke. “I don’t think he’s mean—he’s just older.”
“Only a year, and at sixteen, he ought to know better than to bully the younger boys and tease the girls.” Mercy was about to say more about the way Otis showed the teacher disrespect as well, but his voice rose above the others in the room.
“My pa says I can go to the hanging with him.” The pride of his father’s decision was clear in Otis’s expression. “What about you, Toby?”
Toby Masterson was the preacher’s eldest child. This was his last year of schooling, and Mercy would miss him.
“I don’t know.” He glanced at Mercy. “It seems like bad form to talk about it in front of the ladies.”
“I’m gonna be there,” another of the older boys declared, ignoring Toby’s comment. “I ain’t never seen a hangin’, but my pa has. He says they deserve worse than hangin’ though. He says they ought to be dragged behind a horse over rocky ground then left for the buzzards to eat.”
“My pa says that if they don’t hang ’em just right, they’ll twist and kick until they strangle to death,” still another boy offered.
Mercy thought she’d be sick. She no longer cared about her things and bolted for the door. She hadn’t intended to continue running, but that was what happened. She ran until her sides ached and her legs began to burn. The road home was three miles, mostly uphill, as it rose away from the river. She usually waited and rode home with Alex, but not today.
Grateful for the cover of tall firs, oak, and ash, Mercy veered off the muddy road and made her way into the quiet depths of the forest. When she could go no farther, she collapsed on a fallen log and had a good cry. She might have stayed there indefinitely, but a sound to her left caught her attention.
“Mercy?”
It was Toby Masterson. The tall, blond-haired young man took a seat beside her.
“Why are you here?” She wiped at her eyes with the back of her sleeve.
“I was worried about you. I saw how upset you were at what those boys were saying.”
“They made it sound like they were preparing for a party instead of the killing of human beings.”
Toby stretched out his long legs. “They’re fools. I’m really sorry they upset you.”
“You are?” She looked at him as if seeing him for the first time.
“I think the Indians have some valid complaints. I think the settlers have caused them so many problems by taking their land that the Cayuse felt they had to do something. Of course, it wasn’t right that they killed the folks at the mission. That surely wasn’t the way to handle it, not that I know what the answer is. Like most of the other settlers, I want my own land too.” He shrugged. “Maybe the government could pay them for it. I don’t know.”
“I don’t know either. I don’t know if such different people can live side by side, but I hate the ugliness. I was at the mission, Toby. I know how horrible it was. I was scared to sleep for fear they’d kill me, but then I was just as afraid in the daytime. I still have nightmares sometimes.”
His expression was sympathetic as he reached out and took her hand. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
His kindness encouraged Mercy to continue. “I saw the dead bodies. I even saw a boy killed right in front of me. They forced us to cook and help them and they . . . well . . . they forced the older girls and women to be their . . . to . . .”
He gave her hand a pat. “I know what they did, Mercy. I’ll be eighteen in November, and my pa talked to me about it. He said we should never belittle or blame the women for what happened.”
“No, you shouldn’t. I didn’t have to go through it, because Hope protected me and because I’ve always been small for my age.”
He smiled. “I think you’re the perfect size.”
She smiled and looked at the ground. “It served me well at the mission, but so many others were hurt. I wish it had never happened, but I don’t think hanging the Indians is going to make anyone feel better.”
“Maybe not, but that isn’t the point. The laws were broken. Killing is against the law, and if the Indians are to be treated like the white man, then they have to understand that there is punishment for breaking the law.”
Mercy nodded. “I know. I just wish people weren’t so happy to see other people die. To me, that makes them just as bad.”
Toby stood and held his hand out to her. “It’s wet and the temperature’s dropping. You should get home. I’m going to walk with you, if that’s all right. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
Mercy took his hand and felt warmth spread through her when he continued to hold it tight. She had always thought him a fine-looking young man but had no idea he’d ever noticed her.
“I want to ask you something,” he said as they began to walk toward the road.
“What?”
“Would you be willing to take a walk with me Sunday? After church, of course.”
“A walk?”
He smiled and nodded. “My ma told me that she invited your family to eat with us after church, and that your sister accepted. I thought maybe we could take a walk after lunch while they visit.”
Mercy swallowed the lump in her throat and looked up. “I . . . I’d like that.”
Chapter
11
June third was soon upon the town. The gallows were ready, and the townsfolk were more than happy to rid themselves of the guilty Cayuse. Hope hadn’t planned to attend the hanging, but at the last minute she changed her mind. She didn’t so much want to see Tomahas and the others die, but she desperately needed to feel some sort of closure to the entire affair. Perhaps watching the men face their just deserts would finally bring her a sense of safety—of the peace she so desperately longed for. And it wasn’t like she hadn’t seen men die before.
Oregon City was packed with people when they arrived in town. Alex and Sam Two Moons rode ahead of them while Grace did her best to navigate with the wagon. Sam had joined them just outside of town as he and Alex had previously agreed. Alex had come to talk to Hope about it the night before. He wanted to make sure she knew ahead of time and wouldn’t be troubled by Sam’s presence. He and Sam planned to leave as soon as the hanging was complete so that Alex could do the governor’s bidding and speak to the various tribes.
That morning Hope and Grace had packed the wagon with the supplies Alex and Sam would need for their journey so as to leave their horses unburdened until the last minute. Grace had watched her carefully—almost as if expecting Hope to break into pieces any minute.
“You don’t have to go,” Grace told her more than once.
“I’m not as weak as you seem to think,” Hope had replied. Grace hadn’t looked convinced.
As they rode toward the sawmill, Hope thought of Faith. Would Eletta one day tell her about her father, Tomahas the Murderer?
Will she tell her about me?
Thoughts of Faith no longer made Hope as uneasy as they once had. She had never intended to even lay eyes on the child after giving he
r life, but God had had other plans. The baby couldn’t take cow’s milk, and Hope had been forced to nurse her until a wet nurse could be found. Now, nearly two years later, Hope had no regrets about having done it. Nursing Faith had helped her see that the baby wasn’t some hideous creature. She couldn’t say she had any maternal feelings of love for the child, but neither did she feel hatred toward her existence. God had at least allowed Hope peace where that matter was concerned.
Oregon City had enjoyed three days of decent weather with long hours of sunlight, and the pleasant weather had dried out the muddy streets, making passage much easier. As they came into town, it seemed the warmth and sunshine was also making the residents of Oregon City lively and playful. The entire atmosphere was more like some sort of fair than a solemn hanging, and in spite of it being a Monday, many businesses had remained closed so that their owners and employees could attend the hanging.
“I’m glad Mercy stayed home,” Grace murmured as they came to a stop in the sawmill yard. “I don’t like her being there alone, but I certainly don’t want her here.”
“No, it’s better this way.” This would have been much too hard on their sister. Hope couldn’t agree with Mercy’s desire for forgiveness, but she certainly didn’t wish to make her suffer more by imposing the hanging on her.
Alex and Sam tied off their mounts then came to help Grace and Hope. Thankfully, it was Alex who offered Hope a hand down from the wagon.
“Thank you.” She meant it for more than just the help. As kind as Sam had been to their family, she couldn’t have handled the Nez Perce touching her. Alex had always seemed to understand and care. Not long after the women and children had been set free from their Cayuse captivity, Hope had made him promise to end her life rather than let the Indians retake her. He hadn’t liked the idea, but he understood. She loved him for that and was more than happy when her sister married him.
“You’re welcome, Hope.” He gave her a smile before heading over to where Grace and Sam were standing. “Everyone ready?”
“As ready as we’re going to be,” Grace replied. She took Alex’s arm. “I hope this goes quickly. It’s hard enough to watch men die, but for the people to make such a celebratory affair of it makes it all the worse.”
Leaving the wagon and horses at the sawmill, they walked the rest of the way to the gallows on the banks of the Willamette near Abernathy Island. Crowds were already pressing in from every direction, so they held back. Alex and Sam disappeared for a time, leaving Hope and Grace to observe the scene. When a young boy came by selling peanuts, Grace shooed him away.
“You would think this was a party,” she said in disgust.
“They should have just killed them immediately after the trial.” Hope thought that would have been more sensible. “I just hope Governor Lane doesn’t change his mind and pardon them. I don’t know how I’ll bear it if he does.”
“I know,” Grace said, taking hold of her hand. “But Alex feels confident he won’t.”
“I’m glad someone is confident. But you know as well as I do that talk has gone back and forth on whether there will be a stay of execution.”
Grace nodded. “I know.”
Alex returned, but Sam was no longer with him. Alex looked troubled.
“What’s wrong?” Hope asked before Grace could.
“The Nez Perce and Cayuse have already started for home. They said it wasn’t right to stay and watch the life go out of their brothers in such a disrespectful way. By leaving now, they offer them honor.”
“Disrespectful?” Hope nearly yelled. With effort, she lowered her voice. “I would say that what their brothers did at the mission was far more disrespectful. They deserve to be dishonored.”
“Where’s Sam?” Grace asked.
“He’s hanging back. Things could get ugly toward the native people, and it’s best that he not be here in the middle of it all. I think that was the real reason the Nez Perce chose to leave.”
“And what about the governor?” Grace asked. “Is he going to proceed with the hanging?”
Alex nodded. “He is. He’s not even here.”
“Not here? Where has he gone?”
“South to deal with the Rogue River Indians. There’s been some trouble between them and the miners. Lane wants to negotiate a peace.”
Hope felt only a modicum of relief. Until Tomahas and the others were dead, anything could happen. Judge Pratt might even step in to stay the execution order until the governor returned.
The very idea made Hope’s heart pound all the harder.
Just before two, there was a commotion, and the throng of spectators parted as Marshal Meek and the prisoners approached. Behind them, Hope spied Lance and a dozen soldiers. All were well-armed. She’d already noticed several soldiers surrounding the gallows and wondered at this added security. Were they expecting trouble?
The entourage stopped at the base of the gallows platform long enough for a priest to administer last rites to the Indians. Hope had heard that the Cayuse had all made confession and been baptized by the priests. No mention was made, however, as to whether they’d finally accepted responsibility for what they’d done. Not that it really mattered to Hope. She knew they were guilty.
With the prayers concluded, the men were escorted to the top of the platform. Hope couldn’t help but edge closer. She could clearly see Tomahas and the others. They no longer seemed like fierce, offensive warriors. Rather, they looked like defeated men—trapped animals. She stared long and hard at Tomahas, almost hoping he’d return her gaze and know that she was there—that she was exacting her revenge in the only way she could. But he never looked her way.
Gunny sacks were placed over the head of each prisoner and the nooses secured over these. Meek read off the sentence, and then before Hope even had a chance to brace herself, the rope was released and all five men were hanged at once.
There were too many people to see exactly what was happening, but the deed was done, and the Cayuse were left to dangle until it was certain they were dead. Hope heard a child crying somewhere in the crowd. She looked around and to her surprise found a great many children present. It seemed unreasonable to her that a good parent would bring them to a hanging.
“They’re dead!” someone bellowed, and cheers went up.
A shiver ran down Hope’s spine. Tomahas was dead. He was really and truly dead. Never again could he force himself upon her . . . or anyone else. Never again would he be able to kill the innocent.
For a moment she thought of Johnny Sager. She remembered the desperation she felt when she realized he was dead. Hope had wanted to die then. She had actually tried to end her life, and had the pistol not misfired, she would have. Tomahas had caused those feelings. He caused them again when Hope realized she was pregnant. She had wanted to die then as well. In both situations, she had felt completely helpless. She never wanted to feel that way again.
As the crowd dispersed, Grace took Hope’s arm. “Now maybe we can get on with our lives and put this behind us.”
Just like that?
Hope had expected some great release with the death of Tomahas, but instead she felt nothing. She let Grace lead her through the crowd as she contemplated the matter. She never need fear Tomahas again. He could no longer harm her. At least not physically.
There had to be a way, she thought as they worked their way back to the sawmill, to be free once and for all—to feel safe again. Pastor Masterson had said just yesterday that this event would settle the Whitman Massacre and allow those involved to put it behind them. Hope had prayed he was right, but at the moment she didn’t see how that could be.
“Well, it’s done,” Grace said, looking up into Alex’s face. “I suppose now you’ll be on your way.”
Alex nodded, his expression sober. “I won’t be any longer than I have to be.” He put an arm around her shoulders and continued walking. “I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t think it was important.”
Hope followed them at a short
distance. Seeing Alex and Grace walking together reminded her again of Johnny Sager. She stopped and gazed out at the river, the noise of the falls muffling some of the revelry going on behind her.
Johnny, I would have loved you for all of our days.
She sighed. She had loved him for all of their days together, but now he was gone, and Hope knew she had to move forward with her life. Her friendship with Lance had been a start, but she was hard-pressed to know where to go from here.
“Hope.”
She turned and found Alex next to her. “I’m sorry you’re leaving,” she said. “I know Grace will miss you terribly.”
He nodded. “I hope you’ll take special care of her for me.”
“Of course.” Hope could see that he was serious. “I promise to help her in any way I can.”
“Don’t let her be alone too much. I know you like your solitude, but she isn’t the same. It might be asking a lot of you, but please keep her company.” He paused, and his expression took on a look of worry. “I once made you a promise that wasn’t easy to make, and now I’m asking for one in return. If anything should happen to me, I need to know that you and Mercy will help her through.”
Hope hadn’t expected this. She remembered all but forcing Alex to promise he’d kill her before allowing the Indians to take her hostage again. “Nothing is going to happen to you, Alex. Grace will have you so thoroughly prayed for that nothing would dare harm you. Not man and certainly not beast.” She forced a smile. “Don’t worry. She’ll be fine and so will you.” She paused and drew in a deep breath. “But I promise.”
He nodded. “Will you pray for me too?”
Over the last couple years, Hope had maintained a fragile relationship with God. She prayed from time to time and tried to read the Bible and heed the pastor’s sermons, but there were still far too many unanswered questions.
“I will pray for you, Alex.” She could at least offer that much.
The serious expression left his face, replaced by a warm smile. “Thank you. I’m going to pray for you too. I know this isn’t over for you—not like you wanted.”
Beloved Hope (Heart of the Frontier Book #2) Page 10