Cherished Mercy

by Tracie Peterson

  “Did you read this?” she asked Hope, who sat nursing her son. Hope’s expression made it clear that she had. Grace clutched the paper to her breast. “Our poor Mercy. She may already be dead.”

  “You can’t think that way,” Hope countered. “It doesn’t do any good. Lance said the newspapers always blow things out of proportion. They even lie outright. We both know that’s true.”

  “Well, maybe we can go into town and ask what’s happening. Dr. McLoughlin can tell us something. He’s still in touch with the governor and legislators.”

  Hope shook her head. “Grace, you have no business leaving the house. Alex will never allow it after the labor pains you’ve had off and on.”

  “It’s nothing but false labor. I still have a couple weeks before we really have to be concerned.” Grace tried to sound convincing, but she knew Hope wasn’t buying it. She knew as well that her time was near. “I can’t just sit here and do nothing. I have no idea if any of them are alive.”

  She thought of poor Eletta, who would have just had her baby. Her friend had never been strong, and if she had to flee for her life so soon after delivery, she might bleed to death.

  “This is why Alex wanted to keep the newspapers out of your hands,” Hope replied calmly. She lifted the baby to her shoulder and patted his back. “If he finds out you went behind his back to read it, he’s not going to be happy.”

  “I can’t help it if he left it out in clear view.”

  Hope snorted. “Clear view, eh? You call being stashed under the cushion of his chair in clear view?”

  “He had to know I’d clean house.” Grace shrugged. “Is it my fault that I needed to pound the cushions and rid them of dust?”

  “Well, he’s your husband, and you’re the one who will have to deal with him.”

  Grace refolded the paper. “I can’t bear this. I didn’t want her to go in the first place, but everyone seemed so sure it would be all right. If she gets killed—”

  “If she gets killed, we’ll deal with it then. Until we hear otherwise, she’s fine, and we have to rest in that. We can’t go rescue her or bring her home. She might even be on her way home now, for all we know. Isaac did promise that if things started looking bad he would get them all out of there.”

  “I know, but I just feel so helpless.” A contraction tightened like an iron band around her, and Grace shifted uncomfortably. She knew she needed to remain calm for the sake of the child.

  “We can pray,” Hope offered.

  Grace nodded. “Yes. We can pray, and I have been.”

  “Well, there’s no limit on how many times you can petition God for the same thing,” Hope replied with a smile.

  “I suppose that’s true enough.” Grace forced a smile in return. “I’m going to go lie down for a bit and do just that. I’m afraid I’ve worn myself out this morning.”

  “Are you going to tell Alex about this?”

  Grace struggled to her feet. “I’m not going to start lying to him now. I knew when I picked up that paper that I would have to tell him. Maybe if he sees that I can read the news and still be all right, he’ll stop worrying about it.” Pain shot through her gut, causing Grace to clutch her stomach.

  “Are you all right?” Hope asked, getting to her feet. She put her son in a cushioned basket not far from her chair and went to Grace.

  The pain passed, and Grace straightened. “I’m fine.” She didn’t think it wise to tell Hope that this pain wasn’t like the others. “I’ll get my rest, and everything will be just fine.”

  At Fort Miner, it was decided that the seven men would leave in the morning to go for food. Mornings had been foggy the last few days, and it seemed the perfect cover in case the Indians were still out there. The men slipped out of the fort and headed for the brushy cover along the river as quickly and silently as possible. Everyone in the fort seemed to hold their breath. The sentries watched until the men were out of sight, and everyone, even the meanest-tempered miners, prayed.

  But it was soon evident that the Indians were still very much on guard as the air filled with the sound of gunfire. It wasn’t long before two men, one wounded, came running back to the fort. The armed men in the fort fired into the trees, hoping to give them cover. Once they were safely inside, everyone learned that they had been ambushed.

  “We’re the only two who managed to get away,” one of the men said, holding his hand to his wounded arm. “The rest are dead.”

  “What are we going to do?” one of the women wailed.

  Everyone started talking at once about how they might survive or even escape. Mercy walked to the back of the cabin and took a seat on the floor beside their things. Neither of the two men who had returned was Nigel Grierson. It seemed overwhelmingly sad that she should have just seen him again only to learn he was dead. Maybe that was why God put her in this place at this time. Otherwise Nigel might have died, and no one would ever have known what happened to him. She knew he had at least two brothers and wondered if there might be a way to contact them and let them know about Nigel’s sacrifice.

  Of course, Nigel was also guilty of killing innocent people. At least to her way of thinking. She supposed she was one of the few who saw it that way. She sighed. Their captivity here might well stretch even longer than the one she’d endured at the Whitman Mission.

  “Are you all right?” Adam asked, taking a seat on the floor beside her. “I know your friend Nigel was one of the men who didn’t return.”

  “Yes, I was just thinking about that.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s hard to lose friends.”

  She smiled and shook her head. “We weren’t really friends . . . just acquaintances, although he did once pledge that he would take responsibility for me when I was younger. I just was wondering if I’d have any way to contact his brothers and let them know about his death. One of them, at least, went south with him when he decided to search for gold. I don’t remember about the other. I know at one time he had joined up to hunt down the Cayuse. Maybe both of them did.” She shrugged. “I have no idea where they are now.”

  “I’m sorry. Maybe once you’re back in Oregon City, you could have something published in the newspaper.”

  She looked at him, realizing that was probably her best recourse. “Thank you. I will do exactly that. I just hate to think of him lying out there dead and his family not knowing what happened. Despite what he did with the militia, he was a hero in his efforts to see us fed.”

  “Yes, he was.”

  “What will happen now, Adam?”

  He reached for her hand. “I don’t know.”

  “We have to have food. I heard one of the women talk about boiling shoe leather to feed her children.”

  He drew her hand up and looked at it as if contemplating its contours. “I’ve considered sneaking out and finding Tunchi.”

  “No, you can’t do that.” His words filled her with panic. “There’s much too great a risk. I realize you’re known to many of the Indian tribes in the area, but we’re at war now. You have no guarantee the other warriors will see things Tunchi’s way.”

  “No, but I might manage to get through or even be allowed to speak to those in charge of the warriors.”

  “And you might be killed.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t bear that, and neither could Faith.”

  His dark eyes held her spellbound. Mercy wanted nothing more than to throw herself into his arms. She couldn’t bear the thought of him leaving her . . . of him dying.

  “Please, Adam. Please promise me you won’t try anything like that. Faith and I need you. I couldn’t bear to face the future without you.”

  He drew her hand to his lips. “All right. I promise. I won’t do anything without talking to you about it first.” He placed a brief kiss on the back of her hand.

  She sighed with relief. “Thank you.”

  The arguments in the center of the cabin grew louder, causing Mercy to look around for Faith. She spied her almost immediately in the corner
with several other little girls. They were playing with their dolls and ignoring the nonsense going on around them. It was so amazing how children could survive such intense situations.

  “What are you going to do about Faith?” Adam asked.

  Mercy shook her head. “What do you mean?”

  “What do you have in mind for her? Are you planning to take her to your sisters to raise?”

  Without thinking, she responded, “I won’t know until I have a chance to talk to Hope.” She realized at once what she’d said.

  “Why would you have to talk to her about it?” Adam asked.

  Mercy bit her lip a little harder than she’d intended and tasted blood. She tried to think of something she could say to excuse her comment, but then shook her head. She wasn’t going to start making up excuses or lies now. Not when she’d bared her heart to this man.

  “Hope is Faith’s mother.”

  Adam looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “What are you saying? Eletta was her mother.”

  Mercy nodded. “Yes. Her adopted mother and the only mother Faith has ever known. But my sister Hope gave birth to Faith.” She looked at Adam, hoping he would understand. When he continued to look puzzled, Mercy added, “Faith is half Cayuse.”

  Recognition dawned, and Adam’s gaze shifted to where Faith was playing. “But she doesn’t look Indian at all. She even has blue eyes like Eletta.”

  “I know. She’s the spitting image of my sister with her dark hair and blue eyes. I see Hope in her expressions every day.”

  “But does she know that Eletta and Isaac weren’t her real mother and father?”

  “No. First, because they were her real mother and father. Giving birth doesn’t make you a real mother. It’s the day-to-day relationship that does that. Second, Eletta planned to tell her one day but hadn’t said anything about it yet. Instead, she kept a journal for Faith. I have it with me, and I’m supposed to give it to Faith when the time is right.”

  Adam let go of her hand and leaned back against the log wall. “I never had any idea. Isaac never told me.”

  “Eletta didn’t even realize that I knew. She never said anything to me until near the end. I told her I’d known for a long time. See, my sister Grace and Eletta managed to keep it hidden. Eletta pretended to need Hope to accompany her and Isaac to California when they left Oregon City. Hope didn’t want the baby. She even contemplated killing herself. Faith was a reminder of all the evil that had been done to her by Tomahas.” Mercy paused. “That was Faith’s father’s name.”

  She could see Adam was doing his best to take in the news. “Hope was terrified that her baby would look like Tomahas. Not only that, but if she’d let people know she was with child, they would know that the Cayuse were responsible, and Faith would have been shunned. Hope probably would have been too, and for no fault of her own. That’s the worst thing about it.”

  “People can be cruel,” Adam murmured. His tone suggested he fully understood.

  “Hope delivered Faith in California and then came home to us as if nothing ever happened. I didn’t even know about it until much later, when Grace was having her first baby. Hope and I were helping with the delivery, and when I was out of the room, they started talking about the past. I was just outside the door and overheard them discussing it.” She smiled and shook her head. “It all made sense, and I thought how very naïve I’d been. Hope kept me safe when we were hostages and paid a high price for it. I’ll always love her for that, and that’s why I won’t deliberately hurt her now.”

  “I see what you mean.”

  “I figure once we get out of here and sail north, we can stop in Portland. I’ll send Hope a letter and explain what’s happened and what I would like to do. But I’ll give her the right to refuse.”

  “If she does, what will you do?”

  Mercy gave a little laugh. “Well, if you can just get your priorities straight, we can marry and raise her together.”

  “Are you proposing to me?” he asked, looking amused.

  “I suppose I am. Goodness knows I’ve waited long enough for you to do the asking.”

  His look of amusement faded. “Mercy, you aren’t being fair. You presume that I feel the way you do, but I might not.”

  Mercy decided enough was enough. Without warning, she leaned closer and wrapped her arms around his neck as she kissed him. She felt her breath quicken and her heart race as he responded to her kiss and pulled her close. Mercy wanted the kiss to go on forever, but she knew she needed to make her point. If not, Adam might never come to his senses and address his feelings for her.

  She pulled back abruptly and jumped to her feet, leaving Adam looking stunned. She smiled down at him. “Tell me again how you might not feel the same way I do.”

  “I knew her worrying was going to bring that baby on early,” Alex said, pacing the floor.

  Hope gave him a sympathetic smile. “She’s doing just fine, so stop fretting. And it’s not so early. Due dates aren’t an exact science. She might have been expecting longer than she realized. Either way, I’m confident everything will be all right.” She looked at her husband. “Lance, I think you might have to whip up a game of chess or some other distraction to keep Alex from losing his mind.”

  Lance laughed. “You women just don’t understand what we go through when our wives are giving birth. It isn’t easy on us. We really suffer.”

  Hope rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. You have no idea of suffering.” She headed back upstairs to tend to Grace.

  When she reached the bedroom door, Grace was crying out for her. Hope rushed into the room to see that Grace was trying to deliver the baby herself.

  “But the baby hadn’t even crowned yet when I went downstairs!” Hope hurried to grab some towels and a basin of water and vinegar to bring to the bed.

  Grace fell back against the pillows as Hope hurriedly washed her hands and then took hold of the baby as it slid out of Grace’s body.

  “It’s another boy.”

  He started to wail immediately. Hope put her finger in his mouth to make certain there was no mucus to clear, but given his loud protests, she had little fear of that. She cut the cord and washed him.

  “What are you calling him?” she asked Grace.

  “James Edward Armistead.”

  “Edward after Uncle Edward, I presume, but why James?” Hope finished cleaning the baby and wrapped him up tight in a warm towel.

  “Alex was studying the book of James and decided it was a very fine book and an equally fine name. I thought it sounded nice too.”

  “Well, James, your mother is anxious to see you.” Hope smiled down at the blue-eyed boy, who had finally calmed. He looked back at her as if trying to figure out who or what she was.

  Hope handed him to Grace. “I’d best go tell the very anxious father. I’ll be right back to finish tending you.”

  She left the room as Grace cooed and fussed over her new son. When Hope reached the top of the stairs, Alex was already halfway up. She held out her hand to stop him. “We’re not quite ready for you, but I wanted you to know that you have a fine, healthy son. James Edward.”

  A pale-faced Alex eased back against the stair rail. “And Grace is all right?”

  “She’s perfectly fine, but I need to get back to her. I’ll have them both ready to receive visitors shortly.”

  She could see the look of relief that washed over his face. This man loved her sister more than life itself.

  “Go rest, Alex. I’ll call for you as soon as I can.”

  He nodded. “I’ll go tell the children.”

  “And just so you know,” Lance called from the bottom of the stairs, “our son believes it’s his dinner time.” He held up the fussy baby as proof.

  Hope smiled. “Dampen a towel in sugar water and let him suck on that. I promise I’ll get to him as soon as I can.”

  She continued smiling as she made her way back to Grace. Mercy would be vexed that she’d missed the delivery. She had hoped to
be home by now. A shadow of doubt rose in Hope’s mind, and her smile faded. She paused outside the closed bedroom door.

  What if she is dead? What if they’re all dead?

  Her thoughts went to Faith. It was impossible not to think about the baby she’d given away. The baby she hadn’t wanted. Faith was half Indian, but the warring tribes wouldn’t know that, nor would they care.

  She gave a heavy sigh. “Lord, please save them. Save my sister . . . and my daughter.”

  Chapter

  19

  In the days that passed, Adam mulled over what Mercy had told him about Faith and about her own feelings for him. He also couldn’t help but remember that she’d proven her point when she’d kissed him. He did love her. He loved her more dearly than he’d ever loved anyone. She was the first thing on his mind when he awoke and the last in his thoughts as he fell asleep. During the day when he was working to ensure their safety, he thought of Mercy more than anyone else . . . even Faith.

  It was time, he decided, to tell her the truth and let the situation play out as it would. He couldn’t lie about loving her, but neither could he lie about his Indian heritage. Besides, he was almost certain the Mercy he’d come to know wouldn’t care about such a thing. In the past he hadn’t told Lizzy or her family about being Cherokee because he knew it wouldn’t set well. With Mercy, he felt confident it wouldn’t matter. So then why was this so hard?

  “Could you join me outside for a few minutes?”

  Mercy looked up from where she sat on the floor, helping Faith learn some new spelling words. “Of course.” She looked at Faith. “You stay here and work on these words. Remember to study the definitions I wrote out as well as the pronunciation. It won’t do any good to be able to spell a word if you don’t know how to say it or what it means.”

  “Can’t I come outside with you? It’s been forever.” Faith frowned and looked at Adam. “Please?”