Cherished Mercy

by Tracie Peterson

  Faith followed her to the kitchen. She had shadowed Mercy constantly since her father’s death. She plopped down at the table as Mercy added wood to the stove and poked at the dying embers.

  “My mama is going to die, isn’t she?”

  Mercy was so startled by the comment that she dropped the poker. Turning to look at Faith, she knew she couldn’t lie. “I honestly don’t know. She’s very sick.”

  Faith nodded. “I know she’s going to die. I dreamed about it. I dreamed that she and papa were both dead. I keep dreaming about it.”

  Moving to stand next to Faith, Mercy wondered how to handle the situation. “Well, you know you don’t have to be afraid for her. She loves God, and you’ll see her again in heaven—if she dies.”

  “I know.”

  Mercy could tell there was something more. She looked at the child, and a thought came to mind. When her mother was dying, Mercy had been terrified of who would provide for her and where she would live.

  “Faith, if you’re afraid that you’ll be left alone, then put that thought aside. I’ll see to it that you’re taken care of. I know Adam feels the same way. We both love you very much.”

  Faith’s stoic expression seemed out of place on the once carefree child. Mercy knelt beside her and covered Faith’s hand with her own.

  “No matter what, you’ll be with people who love you.”

  “Where will we live?” Faith looked at Mercy. “We can’t stay here.”

  Mercy was surprised at how astute the child was. They had discussed the ongoing problems, and Faith knew her mother needed medical care elsewhere, but Mercy hadn’t expected this comment.

  “No. We can’t. The Tututni are leaving, and that will make us very vulnerable. Besides, we won’t have anyone to bring us game or fish, and I’m not very good at hunting or fishing.” She smiled and squeezed Faith’s hand. “But don’t you fear. We’ll get by. We have plenty of food stores, thanks to your mother and the Tututni women. We’ll be just fine for a while, and when Adam gets back, then we’ll figure out what to do.”

  Mercy rose and returned to the stove. She filled a small pot with water and put it on to boil. Next she went to the cupboard and pulled down a small sack of oats. She was about to measure out a portion when she heard a scream in the distance, followed by gunfire.

  Faith jumped up, but Mercy beat her to the door. Opening it, Mercy couldn’t figure out what was happening. Although it was dawn, the heavy clouds overhead subdued the light, and the figures of people running across the clearing were more like shadows.

  More screams and gunshots sounded. It seemed to come from the direction of the creek. At this hour, the Tututni women and children would be gathering water. Mercy felt her skin crawl.

  “Faith, go stay in your mama’s room and bar the door.”

  “Where are you going?” The child looked terrified.

  “I think the militia is attacking. I’m going to get all the Tututni to come here, and we’ll try to keep them from being killed.” Mercy pulled on her coat. “Go now. Tell your mother what’s happening.”

  No doubt Eletta had already heard the gunfire, but Mercy figured it would give Faith a purpose. Before stepping outside, Mercy hurried to the fireplace mantel where she kept Hope’s revolver. She didn’t know if she’d be able to use it, but it couldn’t hurt to have it.

  She reached for the front door just as someone began to pound on it from the other side. Opening it, Mercy found Red Deer. She was bleeding from a wound on her arm.

  “The men are killing us,” she said, collapsing against the doorjamb.

  Mercy pulled her into the house. “Stay here. I’m going to get as many people as I can.”

  “My children are in the house. I’ll get them.”

  Mercy nodded. There was no time to argue. “Tell everyone to come here and keep the door barred unless it’s one of us.”

  She stepped outside. Guns were being fired from what seemed like all around them. She spied several Tututni children and pointed toward the house. “Go hide in the house. Red Deer will soon be there.” They ran toward the refuge, crying and screaming as if the Devil himself were on their heels.

  Mercy sprinted to the nearest Tututni dwelling and knelt down to call into the house. An old woman and her daughter came to the opening. “Go now to the mission house. Wait there. You’ll be safe.” At least she prayed they might be.

  She hurried to the next dwelling. She knew most of the remaining Tututni would have been about their morning chores, so the houses were probably empty. Even so, she did her best amidst the chaos and confusion. When a bullet whizzed past her head, Mercy knew it was time to seek shelter.

  Red Deer and her children led another woman and her family to the mission house. Mercy was thankful that most of the village had already departed. At least they would be safe—for the time being.

  With Red Deer and the others, Mercy ran for the safety of the house. She pushed everyone inside and directed them to the far wall. “Keep down in case they shoot into the house.” She couldn’t imagine the militia would do that, given this was the house of a white family, but in the midst of war, people seldom paused to consider such things.

  Mercy waited at the door for a moment to see if anyone else might join them, but she saw no one through the river mist and gun smoke. She closed the door and secured the bar. Turning, she looked at the small collection of people. There were three women and ten children. Of the twenty-two people who had remained in the village, a little over half had managed to get to safety. But for how long?

  When the gunfire grew less frequent, Mercy realized that the militia had probably killed all the others. It sickened her. She could easily remember the Whitman Massacre and shuddered as an occasional round was fired. No doubt to finish off the injured.

  She looked around the room, wondering how in the world she could keep these people safe from further harm. Even if the militia left without another word, they wouldn’t be safe here for long.

  “Mercy Flanagan, I know you’re in there!”

  She stiffened at the sound of Billy Caxton calling her name. Frowning, she moved closer to the back of the room. Faith had opened the bedroom door and was staring wide-eyed at Mercy.

  “Everyone go into the bedroom.” She motioned them to the door where Faith stood. “Faith, get everyone settled in your mother’s room. There won’t be much space, but it’ll be the safest room for now. Bar the door.”

  “But what about you?” Faith asked.

  “I’ll join you shortly. I’ll knock and tell you it’s me. Now go.”

  Faith nodded while Red Deer spoke to the others and herded the children into the room. Mercy returned to the door just as Billy began to pound on it.

  “Let me in, Mercy! I know you’ve got heathens in there, and we’re going to kill them.”

  His callous words sent a shiver down her spine. “Not unless you kill me first. Are you killing white women now? There are three of us in here, and we’ll each fight to the death for our friends.”

  The pounding stopped. “Look, Mercy, this is the way it’s got to be. Nobody wants to shoot you or Mrs. Browning or her little girl. We’ve got a job to do, and we’re going to do it.”

  “You’ve already done plenty. I think you and your men should go.”

  “Not without the others. Our orders are to kill every single Indian.”

  She thought of Faith. The poor girl didn’t even know she was half Cayuse. Would they see her dark hair and high cheekbones and realize her heritage?

  A thud sounded against the door, and Mercy realized Billy was trying to force his way into the house. Mercy gathered her strength. “Mr. Caxton, I have a gun, and I will use it if you or any of your men attempt to come into this house. If I can only shoot one man, I assure you—it will be you.”

  Silence fell. Mercy waited for Billy to offer some sort of response. Finally, he spoke.

  “We can wait you out. We can even burn the place down around you. You can’t stay in there fo
rever, and no one is coming to your rescue.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Mr. Caxton. The Lord has already provided us with protection and rescue. You might have little regard for killing the native people, but once word gets out that you set fire to the home of white citizens, you will face murder charges. Everyone knows how much you hate the Indians, and there would be little doubt as to who killed us, so you might as well leave and wreak your havoc elsewhere. God is my defender and He will not allow you to harm me.”

  She felt her courage build at the thought of God’s protection. He had never failed her, and she knew He never would.

  When Billy didn’t reply, Mercy used the opportunity to check the room. She assessed the furniture and the shuttered windows. The door and windows would have to be reinforced. There was no telling what Billy and his cohorts might do to gain entry.

  Mercy went in search of Isaac’s tools. She knew he kept them in a box by the fireplace, but she had no idea what she might find. Assessing the contents, she found a hammer and box of nails, a saw, and several clamps. There were also several chisels, a wedge, and a hand drill. Only the hammer and nails seemed promising at that point. Without wasting time, Mercy rid herself of her coat, careful to keep the revolver with her. She tied on an apron, then placed the revolver in the deep pocket. The weight gave her a sense of assurance.

  Next she went to check on the women. She knocked on the bedroom door. “Faith, it’s me. Open up.”

  She waited as the bar was slid out place and Faith pulled the door open. Mercy stepped into the room to see fifteen frightened faces turned toward her. Someone had lit the bedside lamp, but it was smoking badly and made the situation seem all the more sinister.

  Eletta looked up from her bed, shaking her head. “Is this all of us?” she asked.

  “Yes. I’m afraid so.” Mercy looked to the Tututni women. Red Deer had a piece of cloth tied around her wounded arm. “I need your help. I don’t trust Mr. Caxton and his men. I fear they’ll try to break in to the house, so we need to reinforce the boarded windows and the front door.”

  Faith interpreted to make sure all the women understood. They nodded and got to their feet, setting aside their frightened children. Even Red Deer was determined to do whatever she could.

  “Eletta, we have to tear up some of the furniture and cupboards.” She looked to the sick woman for permission. Eletta said nothing but gave a slight nod. Mercy coughed from the smoke. “Faith, trim that wick so the lamp will stop smoking.” Faith moved immediately to comply.

  Mercy led the Tututni women into the front room. “Here’s what we need to do. First take the mattresses and bedding from this room and put it in Eletta’s room.” She pointed to Faith’s room. “Then we’ll tear the beds apart.” She knew the long framing pieces would work well to secure the front door and windows. All she needed to do was nail them in place. The boards that composed the counter in the kitchen would also serve well. They would cover most of the window except for a small space at the top and bottom. Since the windows were already shuttered due to the cold, Mercy felt confident they would hold.

  The women went to work, and in two hours they had reinforced the windows and front door. Standing back to survey the results, Mercy knew they’d done all they could. Their last task was to strengthen the boards that covered Eletta’s bedroom window.

  Mercy was certain Billy and his men would have heard the hammering. They would know she had reinforced the house, and hopefully that would discourage them from further attack. Nevertheless, she moved food and water into the bedroom in case the men somehow managed to break in to the house and the women and children were forced to remain in Eletta’s bedroom for safety.

  Of course, none of that would matter if Billy and his men decided to burn them out. In fact, if he did that, they would have a difficult time escaping the cabin. She could only pray the men wouldn’t go to such extremes, given there were white women who would also be injured or killed.

  By the clock on the fireplace mantel, Mercy knew it would soon be dark. She had no idea what Billy might try once he thought them all to be sleeping. It made her even more determined to keep watch. Hopefully between her and the Indian women, they could take turns.

  Oh, Adam, where are you? Have you been killed as well?

  The questions would not be silenced. She had no way of knowing if Adam knew of their plight, and if he did, she had no idea how he might rescue them. She wished there was some way to sneak everyone out under the cover of darkness, but that would be impossible. Eletta could barely sit up and would never be able to walk.

  It was Faith who helped lighten the situation. She suggested they sing hymns and started them in a series of songs. The words of encouragement seemed to comfort each of the hostages. Mercy wondered what Billy and his cohorts thought of the singing. She hadn’t heard anything from them since earlier in the day and had begun to wonder if they were even out there.

  They’re out there. I know they are. Billy isn’t the type to give up.

  With that thought, Mercy rechecked the revolver. Another hour passed, and when the group grew tired of singing, Mercy suggested they eat something. She handed out smoked salmon and bread, then offered a prayer.

  “Father, we ask Your blessing on this meal. We ask for a miracle as well. Please send Adam back to us so that we might be rescued from harm. And if not Adam, then send someone worthy of trust who will deal honorably with us. Amen.” She looked up and found all eyes watching her. She smiled. “Let’s eat.”

  After another few hours, the children, including Faith, had fallen asleep. Wrapped up together with their mothers, Mercy knew they’d be warm enough. She didn’t want to build up the fire in the hearth. It would be just like Billy to cover the chimney and smoke them out.

  Faith was in bed with Eletta, who had long been asleep. Mercy wondered how much longer Eletta had. Without the help of a doctor, Mercy knew she and the baby would die. The baby might already be dead. A feeling of gloom settled over her. She looked at the sleeping children again and wondered if they would ever grow up to become adults. Did any of them have a future?

  Seeing there was nothing else to do, Mercy blew out the lamp and settled in.

  Snug in her coat and leaning against the barred bedroom door, Mercy thought only of how to keep these people safe. She thought it ironic that she was being held hostage for the second time in her life. Although this time it was by her own hand, both situations were life-threatening.

  She spent a good deal of the night hours praying. She intended to keep watch until two, and then one of the other women had promised to take a turn. Even so, Mercy doubted she’d be able to sleep, knowing Billy was just on the other side of the cabin wall.

  Chapter

  13

  Something was very wrong, but Adam couldn’t say exactly what. He felt it more than heard it. Squinting against the darkness, he tried to see any sign of life in the mission village.

  Turning to Joseph, he shook his head. “It’s too quiet.”

  The Tututni man leaned closer. “I check the river. You stay.”

  Adam nodded, although he wasn’t sure Joseph even saw him.

  Their journey back to the mission had been fraught with problems. At the higher elevations, snow slowed them down, and then there were warring tribes to avoid. It seemed the Indians of the Rogue River were preparing to make a final stand against the white soldiers. From the few people they’d allowed themselves to encounter, Adam had learned that the army was moving downriver toward the mission. They had one goal: move the Indians out . . . or kill them.

  It seemed forever before Joseph returned. Adam barely heard him approach as he squatted down beside Adam.

  “There are white men camped at the top of the bank behind the sweat lodge.”

  “Soldiers?”

  “I think it’s those men Brother Isaac didn’t like.”

  “Billy Caxton and his militia?”

  “Yes.”

  Adam felt his blood go cold.
“Did you see anything else?”

  “No. There was no light from the houses or people. No guards either. I think they must have attacked the village. My people are gone. Maybe dead.”

  Despair flooded through Adam. “But why would they still be there?” he asked, although he didn’t expect an answer.

  “Maybe they wait for you.”

  Adam shook his head. Billy Caxton wouldn’t care where he was. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but I intend to find out.” He knew it would soon be light, so acting now was of the utmost importance. “Follow me.”

  He moved back, away from the village. When he felt they were far enough away, Adam took off his pack, keeping his rifle slung over his shoulder. “I’m going to write a letter to the captain of the soldiers. I need you to take it as quickly as you can. I don’t think they’ll harm you. The captain is an even-tempered man and seems to have good control of his men. Give him this letter and cooperate with him in any way he demands.” Adam took out his journal and tore a page free from the back. Next he dug around for his pencil.

  “The white soldiers will take me to the reservation.” Joseph’s statement was matter-of-fact.

  Adam nodded. “Most likely. But they’re going to do that anyway. You might as well turn yourself in. I’ll give you my white shirt. When you approach, wave it in the air. That will signal your surrender. I’ll tell them in this letter that you can act as their guide. Hopefully they’ll allow you to come back to the mission, and we can speak to them about getting my family out of here.”

  He knew it didn’t meet with the young man’s approval, but there was no time for argument. “I know this isn’t right. I know you will be making a great sacrifice.” He frowned. “I just don’t know another way to ensure the safety of my sister-in-law and niece.”

  “And Miss Mercy,” Joseph added.

  Adam had done his best not to think of Mercy, but he gave a reluctant nod. “Yes.”

  “I do this for you and for them.” Joseph smiled. “I’m smarter than the white man, and I can always escape later.”