She walked to the river’s edge and looked out at the water. Surely she could be happy in this country. Surely she could find happiness married to Nigel.
“He’s a good man,” she said as if trying to convince herself. “He’s a God-fearing man, and he has promised to care for my sisters if I marry him.”
She gave a heavy sigh and resigned herself to what must be. The weight of her decision left her feeling weary and worn.
“I will marry him and do what I can to be happy . . . and to make him happy.”
Chapter
24
Hope bore down, pain ripping her apart inside. She cried out as the midwife instructed Eletta to mop Hope’s brow. A damp towel wasn’t going to make this any better, and Eletta’s tenderness wasn’t going to remove the pain. Hope had been in labor since early that morning, and now, nearly twelve hours later, she was about to give birth. Or die. Hope figured either was preferable to what she was going through.
The pain brought back memories of the rape and all she had suffered, causing fear to flood her spirit. What if the baby looked like Tomahas? What if her own hatred had somehow marred the child?
As the baby slipped from her body, the midwife announced the birth of a girl. Hope closed her eyes and fought back the surge of emotion that coursed through her. It was finally done. Tears came to her eyes, but she couldn’t say why. Perhaps it was just the relief of being able to put aside this part of her life once and for all.
“I don’t want to see her,” she said, looking only at Eletta, whose expression could only be described as delighted. She heard the infant give a lusty cry, and for reasons she didn’t understand, Hope gave in to her tears. “Please take her away.” She sobbed quietly into her hands. Thoughts of John Sager came to mind, and she couldn’t help mourning his loss all over again.
The sounds of the baby’s cries diminished as Eletta took her from the room. Pain surged through Hope’s body as the midwife bore down on her tender abdomen. “What are you doing?”
“Delivering the afterbirth. You don’t know much about these things, do you?”
Hope shook her head. Would this nightmare never end?
It was nearly an hour later when the midwife had finally completed her duties. All Hope wanted to do was sleep, but as she dozed, the baby’s shrill cries kept jarring her back awake. Finally, exhaustion took over, and Hope fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. Her first since the massacre.
When she awoke, Hope was surprised to find it was light outside. Worse still, the baby was crying. Had she cried all through the night?
Easing up in the bed, Hope sat against the headboard and tried not to be moved by the infant’s distress. Eletta was new to having a baby, so no doubt there would be a time of adjustment for her. Hope just wished the child would stop crying.
Hope sat alone, pondering what would happen next, when Eletta appeared at the door. She looked exhausted but smiled. “You’re awake. I’m so glad. How do you feel?”
“Tired and sore. You look as though you might feel the same. What time is it?”
“Nearly four in the afternoon.”
“I didn’t realize I’d slept so long.” Hope glanced toward the door. “And . . . what about . . . her? She keeps crying.” She found herself torn between the need to know and the desire to forget. “Is she . . . all right?”
“She’s hungry, and the cow’s milk doesn’t sit well. We’re going to try goat’s milk next. Isaac has gone to get some from a man down the road.”
Hope pushed aside the sense of guilt. “Did you name her?”
“Yes. We agreed to keep to what your mother started and will call her Faith.”
“Faith,” Hope whispered. It seemed strange that a child of her misery would have such an encouraging name.
The baby’s cries grew louder, and Eletta excused herself. Hope felt a strange tingling sensation in her breasts. What was happening to her? She crossed her arms against her chest, hoping to ease the sensation. It did little to help.
Eletta returned after ten minutes or so with food. “I know you must be famished, just as she is. I kept this warm for you.” She left the tray and hurried from the room.
The bowl contained a generous portion of ham, potatoes, and green beans, which had been cooked together. Beside this was a thick slice of bread slathered in butter. The aroma alone drew Hope’s attention. Digging in, she began to calculate how long it might be before she could return to Oregon City. That in turn had her pondering what she would do once she was there.
Still feeling exhausted, Hope finished eating and put the tray aside. She slid back down in the bed, intending to rest for just a little while, and instead fell asleep. In her dreams she heard a baby crying and went in search. She looked through room after room in a dimly lit house that she didn’t recognize. She awoke at one point and found her room dark and the house strangely quiet. Not knowing what time of day or night it was, Hope allowed herself to drift off once again. When next she opened her eyes, it was light.
Yawning, Hope again eased herself up in the bed. She adjusted her nightgown, surprised by the firmness in her breasts. She hadn’t even considered that this was a natural occurrence. Most mothers would expect to nurse their babies.
From somewhere in the house, she heard Faith crying—more of a whimper, as if the child had exhausted herself. Hope again felt the strange tingling and crossed her arms. How long would this last?
Faith’s cries grew increasingly desperate. Hope heard Eletta doing what she could to soothe the baby, but she was beyond soothing. Determined to pay no attention to what was happening, Hope instead decided to get up and open a window. The room was stuffy and in need of fresh air.
“I don’t have to worry about this,” she told herself over and over. “Eletta is Faith’s mother. She’ll know what to do for her.”
But it didn’t seem like this was the case, and after nearly ten minutes of constant cries, Hope felt like joining in with her own tears. Why couldn’t the child be silent? She put her hands over her ears, but that did little to block the noise.
She needs to nurse.
It was as if someone had spoken the words aloud. Hope even looked toward the door, certain she would find Eletta standing there. But the doorway was empty.
The tingling sensation in her breasts increased, and Hope knew that even her body was trying to force the issue.
“But I want nothing to do with her.” She gritted her teeth. Surely God wouldn’t be so cruel as to force her to nurse the baby.
But now her suffering comes from my hands.
That thought pricked Hope’s conscience in a way nothing else could. She was causing the baby pain and misery because of her own selfish need.
Thoughts of God still made her uncomfortable, but Hope put aside that discomfort for the moment and looked toward the ceiling. “Can’t You make her stop crying? Can’t You fix things so that she can drink the cow’s milk?”
Hope heard talking and realized that Mr. Browning was trying to help. She held her breath as the baby’s cries momentarily subsided. But even as she prayed that God would allow the child to feed without Hope’s help, the infant began to wail once again, and this time Eletta began to cry too. Mr. Browning spoke in a soothing tone, but that seemed only to cause Eletta and the baby to cry all the more. Mr. Browning apparently found the situation impossible, because Hope heard the front door slam. Glancing out her widow, she saw him hurrying down the front walk.
Then to her surprise, Eletta showed up at the open doorway of Hope’s room, babe in arms. She looked at Hope with pleading in her eyes. “Please, help her.”
To refuse would make Hope cruel, yet the pain of seeing the child and remembering her father was almost too much.
“Please,” Eletta said again. “She’ll die otherwise. She’s not been able to take any nourishment without throwing it back up.”
Hope moved to the bed and sat down. She had once wanted this child dead, but facing the idea of being the cause of Faith’s dem
ise, Hope could bear it no longer. She drew a deep breath and unbuttoned the top of her gown. Eletta sobbed in gratitude and hurried to the bedside.
“Thank you, Hope. I know what this is costing you. Truly I do, but God will bless you for your kindness.”
Eletta placed the baby in Hope’s arms, and for a moment Hope couldn’t bring herself to look at the child. She positioned the baby to her breast and startled when Faith latched on and began to suck.
Hope’s breathing quickened, and without stopping to think, she looked down. The baby seemed so small and perfect. She was no monster and looked nothing like the man who had forced himself on Hope. She didn’t look any different than other babies Hope had seen.
“She’s pretty, don’t you think?” Eletta asked.
“Yes.” Hope barely breathed the word. She touched the baby’s dark hair, then let her finger trail down the infant’s cheek.
The baby nursed while Hope marveled. How could something so beautiful and precious come from such an ugly beginning?
“Eletta,” Mr. Browning called, “is everything all right?”
Hope quickly drew the blanket over herself and the baby. Eletta dried her eyes and gave Hope’s shoulder a pat. “I’ll be right back.”
Hope knew enough about babies and nursing that after ten or fifteen minutes, she put the infant to her shoulder. After a few gentle pats, the baby burped. Hope switched Faith to her other breast, uncertain if the child was full. Again the sensation of Faith latching on caught Hope by surprise. It was all so very strange and new.
As Faith began to fall asleep, the sucking lessened and lessened until she finally stopped altogether. Hope was uncertain what to do next. Should she burp her again? Should she just let her sleep? She wanted to call for Eletta but didn’t want to wake the sleeping baby. In the other room, she could hear Eletta and Mr. Browning talking. For a moment Hope thought they might even be arguing. When Eletta returned a few minutes later, she was frowning, and Hope knew she’d been right.
“What’s wrong?”
Eletta looked as if she wouldn’t answer for a moment. She sank down on the bed beside Hope. “Isaac thinks I was foolish to ask you to nurse the baby.”
“Why?”
The older woman looked uncomfortable. “Well . . . he’s afraid.” She paused and shook her head. “He’s afraid that you’ll grow attached to the child and won’t be willing to give her up.”
Hope shook her head. “There’s no chance of that. I see that she isn’t the monster I feared she’d be—in fact, she’s lighter than I thought and doesn’t look that different from the white infants I’ve seen. But . . .” She fell silent for a moment, then shook her head. “I’m not ready to be a mother. And . . . I can’t forget what happened.”
Eletta’s expression changed from anxious to relieved. “I know he’ll be comforted to know that you don’t mean to change your mind. I hadn’t realized until now how much he wanted Faith. I think he’s longed for a child just as much as I have.”
“Then put his mind at ease. Better yet, call him here and I will.” Hope handed the sleeping baby to Eletta. She felt strangely empty as Eletta stood and left the room with Faith in her arms. Hope did up her buttons and was prim and proper when Eletta returned with Mr. Browning.
Hope could see the look of worry on Mr. Browning’s face. “I know you’re concerned that I will change my mind about the baby, but I assure you that I won’t. I will nurse her until you can work out something else, but I want to go home as soon as possible.”
“Are you certain? I’m sure you know how much Faith means to us. We’ve . . . we’ve truly looked forward to her arrival.”
“I know that and I’m very certain.” Hope smiled for the first time in a long while at the sight of the couple holding the baby. “I know this is what is right. I’m not sure if I could ever love . . . Faith. Not like you can. She needs you—not me.”
“We’ll check into whether there’s someone in the area who could nurse her,” Eletta said. “There are several women with newborns.”
A memory came to Hope. “I recall when we were coming west that one of the women couldn’t nurse. Grace mixed water with cow’s milk to weaken it and added a little sugar. Then they spoon-fed the baby. Perhaps that would work for Faith if you can’t find another woman to help.”
Eletta nodded, looking down at the sleeping infant. “I think both of us are exhausted.”
“You should sleep while you can,” Mr. Browning said. He gave Hope a hesitant smile. “I’ll see if I can find someone to help us, but in the meantime . . .” He fell silent and turned his gaze to the floor.
“I will nurse her as you need me to.” Hope saw the flash of gratitude as he looked back up.
Once they’d gone, she eased back against the pillows and pondered the situation. She had never planned to see her baby—Eletta and Isaac’s baby—but for reasons she couldn’t understand, it had actually given her comfort. Knowing that the child appeared healthy and undamaged from Hope’s anger and desires to put an end to its life was a relief.
Maybe now she could finally put the massacre and all that had happened behind her. Maybe she could finally forget what she had lost that day and look to the future.
Alex kicked mud off his boots. He and Sam had just turned in their fall cache of furs at Fort Nez Perce. Word had it there had been some violence between tribes to the south of them, but here things had been fairly quiet.
“So what now?” Sam asked Alex.
For days Alex had contemplated that very question. “A bath. A long, hot bath. I can’t abide my own stench.”
Sam laughed. “Me either, but I was talking about Grace.”
Alex could see Sam wasn’t going to drop it. “I’m going to Fort Vancouver to check the mail.”
“Do you suppose you’ll have a letter from your sister?”
“I don’t know. I hope so. There’s been more than enough time to send one. I figure Adelina must have received mine by summer. She might have been able to have a letter transferred west via the fort stops. I heard from Peter Ogden that they’ve organized regular mail runs between the forts.”
“And if there isn’t a letter?”
Alex had already determined what to do, but he kept rethinking the matter in his head. “I’m going to find Grace and talk to her.”
“It’s about time,” Sam said, untying his horse. “You should have gone to see her months ago.”
“I couldn’t. I’m not even sure I can now.”
“You are a stubborn and prideful man.”
Alex eyed his friend with a smile. “It’s a wonder you put up with me.”
Sam nodded solemnly. “It is.” Then he broke into a grin. “When will I see you again?”
“I’m not sure. Since your people have moved north, it might be some time. I’ll know more after I see whether my sister has written. If she hasn’t, then I suppose my next letter will go to the officials in New Orleans.”
“And what about Grace?”
“I’m still going to go talk to her.”
“And ask her to wait for you?”
Alex fixed Sam with what he hoped was a look of annoyance. “I’ll figure that out when I see her.”
Sam laughed. “I suppose that’s the white man’s way.”
“I’m going to miss you, my friend.” He embraced Sam with a quick hug. “I hope it won’t be too long before we meet again.”
“I pray God will bring us together soon,” Sam said. He mounted his horse.
“And I’ll pray that God eases the tensions between our people.”
Sam again gave him a solemn nod. “May it be so.”
Fort Vancouver proved disappointing for Alex. There was no letter awaiting his return, and without it, he was hard-pressed to figure out what he should do first. He could send a letter out with the Hudson’s Bay missives, or he could go see Grace first. The latter was far more appealing, so he made his way to Oregon City.
Upon arriving, he checked himself into the
City Hotel. The town was growing by leaps and bounds. What had started as scarcely more than a good place to catch salmon had blossomed into a busy town. There were more stores and mills than had been there on his last visit. Great portions of land had been cleared, and the sawmills were working at full capacity. And with the late-summer news that the president had finally made Oregon a bona fide territory, Oregon City had been named its capital.
Of course, there had been other news as well. News about gold discoveries in California had sent many a man off to seek his fortune. Alex wondered if Grace’s uncle had ever returned, and if so, whether or not he might have decided to return south and taken his nieces with him.
Alex knew the location of Edward Marsh’s house, but before he went there, he intended to get cleaned up. At the hotel he managed a hot bath, although it cost him a pretty penny. Next he had a barber trim his hair and beard. Last of all, he put aside his buckskins for a pair of store-bought trousers as well as a new shirt and coat. He wasn’t sure why he’d bought new clothes. It seemed silly, given he had no idea if he’d find Grace or if she’d still be free once he did.
He contemplated his choices as he crossed Main Street in search of a hot meal. He had plenty of credit and even some cash, so it wouldn’t be hard to purchase supplies if he needed to go in search of Grace.
He was lost in these thoughts when the door of the Brick Store opened and several people exited. The last one was Grace. For a moment all they did was stare at each other, and they probably would have remained fixed to the spot had someone not wanted to enter the store.
“I’m sorry,” Grace said, shifting her basket from one arm to the other.
Alex quickly stepped forward. “I hoped I might find you.”
Treasured Grace Page 25