Cherished Mercy

by Tracie Peterson

  “It is a bad situation,” Mercy responded before Adam could speak. “The army and volunteer militia are using it as an excuse to commit murder, as far as I’m concerned. We’ve lost dear friends because of it—even Isaac and Eletta’s deaths could be said to be a result of this heinous conflict.”

  “The newspapers back east make it clear that many easterners find Oregonians to be barbaric, money-hungry murderers,” Matthew replied. “They believe we could have all lived peaceably if the government weren’t paying men to eliminate the Indians.”

  Adam shook his head. “Given that so many people have come west in the last ten years, I doubt we could ever have been completely at peace. The white man would have insisted on taking over the land, and the Indians would have been left with no choice but to fight.”

  Matthew sighed. “It is to my deepest sorrow that such evil takes over the hearts and minds of men.”

  “Such evil?” Mercy asked.

  “Greed. Greed for land and possessions,” Matthew replied. “Men went wild at the promise of gold in California, and when that played out false for so many, they turned to the land. The various land laws give away thousands upon thousands of acres to those who will work the land and improve it.”

  “And for the most part, it’s land the whites have paid nothing for,” Alex added. “There have been a few token payments to some of the tribes, but overall the attitude has been that the Indians own nothing and therefore it’s there for the white man to take.”

  Matthew studied Adam for a moment. “You sound like quite an advocate of the natives. Have you considered trying to get in with Indian Affairs? You would make a wonderful agent.”

  “Mercy and I have talked about some sort of continued ministry. We’ve even thought about helping at the new reservation. We could both teach school, and I could share the gospel as well.”

  Faith yawned and leaned against Adam. No doubt she was as uncomfortable on the stiff bench-like sofa as he was.

  “I think that would be marvelous,” Matthew replied. “Your heart is such that the Indians would see you as their friend.”

  “They did once, anyway.” Adam couldn’t help but be saddened at the loss of so many lives. “After the wholesale murder of so many, I’m not sure they’ll ever see a white man as a friend again.”

  “It will be hard, but in time there will be healing.”

  Adam hoped Matthew was right, but he doubted it would come anytime soon.

  The room grew dark and chilly as the sun began to set, and Adam knew Mercy and Faith were probably hungry. He had a little money left from helping Captain Tichenor onboard the schooner, although he’d been trying to hold on to it in order to buy Mercy a ring.

  “What say I go buy us a few groceries, and maybe Mercy could whip something up for us?” he said.

  Faith straightened.

  Matthew got to his feet. “I have a better idea. There’s a boardinghouse just a few doors down, and the woman there serves a mighty fine supper. She always has extra and has encouraged me to join in anytime I like. I’ll speak with her and see if we might all join her. Then tomorrow I will lay in a supply of food.” Without waiting for Adam’s reply, Matthew headed for the door and took up his coat and hat. “I won’t be but a minute.”

  Once he’d gone, Adam stood. He reached down and pulled Mercy into his arms. “How are you feeling? I know we’ve done nothing but be on the move all day.”

  “I’m fine. Tired, but fine.” She smiled and then laid her head against his chest. “So long as I’m with you, I’ll always be just fine.”

  “Are we going to live here?” Faith asked.

  “For a short while,” Adam said, pulling back. He continued holding on to Mercy. “Would that be all right with you?”

  Faith closed her book and shrugged. “I really want to see the farm.”

  “And we will. First, however, I need to make a little money so we can buy some of the things we need.”

  “Yes,” Mercy said, nodding. “You need at least one new dress. You’ve all but outgrown that one. I swear you must have added six inches to your height since that dress was made for you.”

  “And Mercy needs a new dress, and I’m sure both of you need other more personal garments—maybe even new shoes.” Adam glanced down at Faith’s well-worn boots. “I recall you saying your boots were pinching you. My guess is you’ve outgrown those as well as your dress.”

  Faith got to her feet. “Do you think we’ll be here long?”

  Adam dropped his hold on Mercy and lifted Faith in his arms. “We’ll be here for as long as the Lord desires us to be. We must always remember to pray and seek His guidance. Our own plans are fine, but if they don’t line up with His, then we must rethink them.”

  “Mama always said that when we commit our ways to the Lord, He will direct our steps.”

  “And God will definitely see us through this and show us what to do,” Adam replied.

  Matthew returned, his face redder than ever from his hurried journey. “Come! Come! Mrs. Norris says she’d be delighted to have us all to supper. She’s serving chicken and dumplings.” He waved them forward. “She was just calling everyone to the table.”

  Reverend Beckham’s house made a cozy home. Since there were only two bedrooms, Mercy and Adam shared their room with Faith, just as they’d done on the schooner. Mercy wondered if they would ever be alone to have a true wedding night. Nevertheless, she was grateful for a roof over her head and a real bed.

  They had been with the reverend for nearly a week when Adam found a job at one of the local mills. It paid well enough that, given they were living rent-free, they would soon have enough money to buy what they needed. The reverend wouldn’t hear of them paying to share his house, since Mercy was more than happy to cook and clean for them. Not only that, but Adam helped the reverend by cutting firewood and fixing anything that needed attention. Matthew declared them to be a gift from God to ease his loneliness and poor housekeeping.

  Mercy was glad they could help, but she was also concerned about the letter she’d sent to the farm. She had told them everything that had happened and let them know she was safe in Portland. She had also enclosed a separate letter for Hope. She could only pray that the news hadn’t upset her sister too much.

  Faith thrived in the safety of Portland. She no longer had bad dreams at night, and her focus on schoolwork was much better than before. Mercy wondered when it would be the right time to share the truth with her. It would be a hard truth to learn, but Mercy knew that one day, Faith would be grateful for the knowledge. At least Mercy hoped that would be the case. She figured that if she were in Faith’s shoes, the truth would be important to her.

  “You look deep in thought,” Matthew said, joining Mercy in the kitchen as she made bread.

  “I suppose I was.” She finished kneading the bread and separated it into several bread pans while she talked. “It’s been a very long journey in a short few months. So much has happened that I can scarcely put it all together.”

  “I can understand that. Adam tells me you went through the attack on the Whitman Mission as well. That couldn’t have been easy.”

  “No, it wasn’t.” She put the bread pans aside to give the dough a chance to rise. Wiping her hands on her apron, she turned. “It was, however, a valuable experience.”

  “And then you endured the Rogue River wars.” He shook his head. “Few women could go through so much and still maintain such a joyous countenance.”

  Mercy smiled and leaned back against the counter. “As Nehemiah eight, verse ten states, ‘The joy of the Lord is your strength.’ I would not have a pleasant demeanor without the Lord.”

  “To be sure. It would seem,” he said, taking a seat at the table, “that you have come full circle in some ways.”

  Mercy considered this for a moment. “I suppose I have.” She nodded. “Would you like some coffee? There’s still some on the stove.”

  “No. I’m only here for a few more minutes. I must ma
ke sick calls today. Several of my congregants are suffering from illness.”

  Mercy wondered if Matthew wasn’t also the victim of some physical malady. He had more than once mentioned frequent headaches. She was glad to have vinegar once again at her fingertips. She felt so much better taking her daily doses than she did when vinegar had been unavailable. Perhaps she could encourage the pastor to do likewise.

  “I hope they’re not suffering too much. My sister is a healer and taught me some of her remedies. For instance, we take vinegar every morning to help our constitution. Perhaps you would like to try it as well. We never suffer headaches, so it might be useful.”

  He nodded, looking intrigued. “I might very well do that. I know my Martha had cures for such things, but I never bothered to find out what they were. Just one more reason I regret her passing.”

  “Well, I can help you with several remedies if I can get my hands on certain ingredients. I don’t want you to suffer.” She turned her attention to the small roast that one of the church members had given to the reverend. “Do you have a preference how you’d like this cooked?”

  Matthew chuckled. “I have no preference whatsoever. Martha would sometimes roast it in the oven with vegetables, and other times she would cut it up to make stew or beef pie. I can honestly say that I will eat most anything, as my thick waist suggests.”

  “Your wife sounds like she was an amazing woman.”

  “She was a good wife, and her loss is greatly felt.” His expression changed, and worry lines furrowed his brow. “We came west with one of the earlier groups, and we both fell in love with Oregon Country. We found the people here hungry for the Word of God and eager to civilize this great land. They are certainly a hardworking people.”

  “And what of the Indians?” Mercy turned back to him again. “Adam and I have talked about working with the native peoples. He’s even written to the man in charge of the Indians here, Joel Palmer.” She felt as if she were rambling and paused before asking, “Did you ever work with the natives?”

  “From time to time we encountered some of the local Indians, back when they were still fairly at ease mingling among the white people. Things weren’t always so difficult. When we first arrived, the Indians were incredibly helpful. Years ago, they would come into town to trade. Unfortunately, with more and more white families coming into the area, there was bound to be trouble. The natives often just took what they wanted if the whites refused to trade. There were some attacks on homes out away from town, but now the local Indians are far less inclined to fight—even before the project began to put them all on reservations.”

  “It seems cruel to take them from the land they love and force them to move to a place like Grand Ronde. I’ve heard it’s very different than the southern part of the territory.”

  “I’ve never been to the Rogue River area,” he replied.

  “It’s beautiful and not nearly as rainy as it is here. Eletta said the summers were quite lovely. I doubt the Indians will adjust very well to the damp and cold.”

  “I suppose it will be difficult.”

  Mercy grew thoughtful. “The river was such an important part of their life. Will they live near a river now? Will they be able to fish for salmon and make their plank houses?” Her emotions surged and threatened to spill into her conversation, so Mercy turned back to the meat. “I think I’ll make stew.”

  “Mercy, you have a tender heart,” Matthew said, coming up behind her. He cleared his throat. “Never be ashamed of that.”

  Mercy faced him and sighed. “I can’t hate them, even after the siege. They seem so alone in all of this. Even the people who are supposed to be their advocates steal from them and cheat them.”

  He nodded and put his hand on her shoulder. “You and Adam will no doubt be of great use to them.”

  “We’ve talked about going to Grand Ronde to live among them. Adam knows many of the Rogue River Indians, and at one time they respected him and called him friend. If it’s possible they can still do that, then I think we can make a difference.”

  Smiling, Matthew patted her shoulder. “I must be going, but I’ll be back to sup with your little family tonight.”

  Mercy smiled as he took his leave. He was such a kind man. And though she worried about his health, she knew they were blessed to share his home.

  “Mercy, I finished all the problems you gave me. Do you want to check my work?” Faith asked, coming into the kitchen.

  “In a bit. I need to get this meat started for our supper. Would you like to help?”

  “Sure.” Faith put her work aside. “I used to help Mama.” She paused for a moment. “I miss her.” Her words were matter-of-fact.

  “I do too. Your father as well. They were good people, and they loved you a great deal.”

  “Do you think they know I’m all right?”

  Mercy knelt next to Faith. “I know they do. I made a promise to your mother that I would make sure you were cared for. She knew I would keep my word. I hope you know that too.”

  Faith nodded and wrapped her arms around Mercy’s neck. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” Mercy held her close. “I will always love you, Faith. You’re a part of my family now and always will be.”

  “I just wish they hadn’t died.”

  “Me too.”

  Faith pulled back. “Do you think they’re in heaven right now? I can’t remember, but I thought Papa told me that we won’t go to heaven until the final judgment.”

  Mercy shrugged. “I’m not sure how it all works or where exactly we go when we leave this earth. Jesus told the thief on the cross that he would be with Jesus that very day in Paradise. So we must go somewhere lovely, and if it’s not heaven, then it’s surely very close to heaven.”

  Faith nodded. “And will the baby be born there?”

  Mercy smiled and pushed back one of Faith’s pigtails. “I’m sure the baby is there with them, and you will one day see him . . . or her.”

  “I hope it was a girl. I always wanted a sister.”

  Mercy thought of Hope’s two boys and wondered if Faith would enjoy having little brothers. Mercy had always wanted a brother.

  “Maybe you’ll have a baby, Mercy, and I can pretend it’s my brother or sister.” Faith began to dance around. “Maybe you’ll have a whole bunch of children, and I can play with them all and help you take care of them.”

  Mercy laughed. “If I have a whole bunch of children, I’ll need all the help I can get. But for now, you are more than enough for me.”

  She stood and watched a moment while Faith twirled. How could Hope do anything but love this child? How could anyone not love her?

  Chapter

  21

  After a full ten days with Reverend Beckham, Mercy was beginning to fret. There had been more than enough time for her letter to reach the farm and for them to send a response back. But there had been no letter. No sign whatsoever that her sisters knew she was in Portland, awaiting their blessing to return to the farm.

  “I’ve written down ten new spelling words,” Mercy told Faith. “I want you to look up each word and write down if it’s a noun, adjective, or verb, as well as the pronunciation and meaning. Pastor Beckham said you could use his dictionary, but treat it with respect. It’s a fine book, much nicer than any we had at the mission.”

  “When I’m done, can I read one of Reverend Beckham’s books? I was telling him about the problems in England with the church and King Henry the Eighth. He said he had a book on the Puritans and the witches in Salem, Massachusetts. He said it was also a sorry time in the history of Christian people.”

  “Yes, I’m sure it was. I don’t know, however, if it’s appropriate for you to read. I’ll have Adam take a look at it first.”

  Faith frowned and sighed. “What’s the use of being able to read if nobody will let you read?”

  “God has given us the job of caring for you. That care includes being cautious in exposing you to things that might cause you h
arm.”

  “I don’t think learning about those people would cause me harm.”

  Mercy nodded. “Maybe not, but the stories related to witchcraft and Devil worship might give you horrible dreams and perhaps even troubled thoughts throughout the day. Let Adam read it first, and if he thinks it’s all right, then you may read it as well.”

  Faith settled herself at the dining room table. “I guess I’ll just do my work then.”

  “I’ll tell you what. I know how much you love writing stories. When you finish these words, you can write a story for me about something you remember from when you were a very little girl.”

  Faith instantly perked up. “Can I write about anything?”

  “Absolutely. It will be fun to see what you came up with. But first you must do the work I gave you. When you’re finished, we’ll go over the spelling words together to see if you have the proper definitions and pronunciations.”

  “I’ll get it done really fast.”

  Faith picked up the dictionary and immediately started searching for her spelling words. Mercy smiled. Faith loved to learn, but she loved writing even more. Going to their shared bedroom, Mercy opened a box of school supplies Adam had purchased, including paper and pencils. Paper was a luxury, so Mercy was careful not to use it for just anything. Usually a slate board served their schooling purposes, but Mercy wanted to keep Faith’s stories to give back to her when she grew up. She thought it might be a pleasant way to remember the good things of the past.

  She returned to the dining room and gave Faith a pencil and a piece of paper before heading into the large front room to clean the fireplace. It looked as if it hadn’t been cleaned in a month of Sundays. Probably not since Mrs. Beckham had been alive.

  Mercy shoveled out all of the ash and put it in a bucket to discard outside. It wasn’t pleasant work, but since she was already on her knees, it did provide ample time for prayer.

  While she worked and prayed, Mercy thought about Hope. She prayed that her sister would understand about Faith. She knew she was asking a lot. Seeing Faith again would bring back the past and all they had endured. Hope would no doubt remember John Sager, the boy she had fallen in love with—the boy who’d died in her arms. Hope would have to relive the horrible things Tomahas had done to her and the fears they all had for their very lives.