Forever by Your Side

by Tracie Peterson

  Seth smiled. “And how long have you been in love with her?”

  Tom shrugged. He saw no need to hide his feelings. “About the entire time I’ve known her, but don’t tell her that. She hasn’t a clue.”

  Seth laughed. “They often don’t.”

  They sat in silence for several minutes before Seth spoke again. “If I can help in any way with the things I learned, I will do it. I don’t believe Mr. Singleton intends to take you to the reservation before the end of the week. That will give us a few days. Oh, and I’ll send an invitation for Major Wells to join us. He’s been instrumental in all of this.”

  “I can’t do anything to make it look like I’m here for anything but cultural recordkeeping.” Tom frowned. “Speaking to Wells would be a big help, however.”

  “Look, no one needs to be the wiser. The major comes by all the time to check on me. No one will think anything of it, I assure you. I think the opportunity to learn from him would outweigh the risk.”

  “Very well. I’ll trust you to set it up.”

  Chapter 5

  Clint hesitated at the corner before approaching the Carpenter house. Constance Browning stood on the porch, laughing with several people. He couldn’t help being mesmerized by the way she moved. She appeared to be telling a story about something very active as she twirled and whirled on the porch. Her audience was completely captivated, and no one seemed even the tiniest bit aware that they were being observed.

  Connie was certainly no longer the gangly and awkward fifteen-year-old he’d watched leave the reservation. The little girl who was so enraptured with him that she followed him around everywhere like an obedient pup, declaring her feelings for him. No, this was a woman full-grown and quite beautiful.

  There was something of the little girl that remained, however. Something animated and childlike in her delight. He could hear her laughter all the way across the street, and it sounded like music.

  He crossed the avenue and gave a wave when Nancy Carpenter caught sight of him. She returned the wave, and the others turned to greet him. Connie stopped at the porch railing but didn’t wave or smile. She observed him like a specimen she’d just been introduced to for the first time. Clint thought it almost humorous. She was no longer the lively storyteller. Instead, she looked bored—almost indifferent.

  “Mr. Singleton, I see you’ve returned to join our company,” Mrs. Carpenter declared.

  “I did indeed. You said to come to supper, and I’m not one to turn down a good meal.”

  She smiled. “I’m sure you remember everyone.” She turned to her cousin. “Of course, this is Connie. It’s been what, seven years since you last saw each other?”

  He took off his hat and gave her a smile. “It seems like a lifetime ago. Connie, you look quite lovely—all grown up.”

  She gave a smirk and glanced momentarily heavenward, which only made Clint smile. It would seem she had developed some sass.

  “How are you, Mr. Singleton?” she asked.

  “I’m quite well—especially now. It seems like I haven’t seen you in forever. I kept thinking you’d make a trip back to the reservation. I know your folks would have liked that.”

  “Yes, but I was much too busy.” She looked beyond him. “Oh good, Faith and Tom are here.”

  Clint turned to find the couple coming up the walkway. “Is that her husband—the sea captain?” he asked, not really meaning to voice the question.

  “Goodness, no. That’s Tom. He’s my dearest friend and the man I’ve been working with in Washington. We’re going to be working together at the reservation.” Connie brushed past Clint and went to where Faith and Tom had stopped. She pressed between them and looped her arms through theirs. “I thought you’d never get here. Supper smells amazing, and Nancy has baked three different kinds of pie.”

  Faith chuckled. “That certainly has put you in good spirits.”

  “I’m always in good spirits,” Connie said, pulling them along. “Tom, there’s someone I want you to meet.” She brought him to stand in front of Clint. “This is the man I told you about, Mr. Clinton Singleton. He’s been a friend of the family for a long time. He and my father have worked together for years and years.”

  Clint extended his hand. “Most folks call me Clint.” What did she mean, this is the man I told you about?

  “Thomas Lowell,” Tom replied, shaking his hand. “Most folks call me Tom.”

  “Very nice to meet you.” Clint knew that Connie was sizing them up. It was impossible to know what went on inside the head of a woman, but this particular woman almost seemed to be plotting something. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you, Tom. Of course, I already know Connie. We spent a lot of time together before she left for school.”

  “Yes, back when I was just a little girl,” Connie threw out. She looked at Clint with a smile and added, “And Clint was a much older man.”

  “As I recall, you didn’t think the age difference was all that important.” Clint returned her smile. The tension grew.

  “Yes, but now that I’m more mature,” Connie began, “I can see just how silly I was as a child. Goodness, but children come up with some of the most ridiculous notions.”

  “Like losing your heart to me?” He could see that she was momentarily stunned by his bold words.

  All at once she burst into laughter. Everyone was briefly taken aback. Connie let them feel a few moments of discomfort before she sobered. “Exactly like that. Oh my, I’d almost forgotten about that.” She looked at Tom and shook her head. “Remember what I told you years ago about there being a man at the reservation I thought myself enamored of? This is him.” She looked at the others. “I really was the silliest girl. Of course, living on the reservation probably didn’t help. Clint was the only white man besides my father and the occasional soldier. I actually fancied that Clint was like a fairy-tale hero. He used to help my father calm fights and aid those in need.” She was completely serious now, and to Clint’s surprise, there wasn’t a hint of sarcasm. “I know Papa used to say he would suffer Clint’s loss like losing his right arm. I was always so grateful for the work you did, Clint, to keep Papa safe.”

  He narrowed his eyes slightly. What was she about? “Well, it’s been a privilege to work with a man as great as your father. Adam Browning is one of the finest men I’ve ever known.”

  Connie nodded and looked at Tom. “He really is. Papa would walk twenty miles in the pouring rain to get medicine for someone who needed it. He has never cared about the color of a person’s skin or the money in their purse. He just wants to have God’s heart when dealing with others. His faith truly guides his choices.”

  “You can say that again. Your mama is just the same,” Clint added. “Fine woman. Their faith has done much to bolster my own.”

  The conversation seemed to lose its momentum, and Tom took the opportunity to speak. “Connie, you should come down to the riverboat when you get a chance. Faith has fixed it up with a medical examination room. Sort of a floating hospital.”

  “It was Andrew’s idea,” Faith replied. “We are often stopping along the river to drop off goods or pick up folks. Andrew suggested we have facilities to help those in physical need. We haven’t been called upon very much yet, but hopefully after the word gets out, we’ll see more folks.”

  “Is Andrew coming to supper?” Nancy asked.

  “No. He said he’d come by later to pick us up, but he was busy overseeing some repairs and couldn’t leave. I promised him we’d save him something.”

  “Of course.”

  A baby could be heard fussing somewhere in the house. Nancy smiled. “That would be Jack demanding his supper. I’ll see to him, and then we’ll plan to eat in about forty minutes or so. Meanwhile, Connie and I made some lemonade, and I’m sure she’d be happy to serve it up.”

  “I would be very happy.” Connie followed Nancy into the house without another word.

  Clint could see how Tom watched her leave. The young man clearly
felt something for her. Perhaps it was nothing more than a protective brother sort of thing, but Clint didn’t think so. It seemed to him there was a definite longing in Tom’s eyes.

  “I’ll help you with the lemonade,” Bedelia Clifton said as Connie entered the kitchen. Her thoughts were so muddled by Clint’s arrival that all she could do was nod. She’d thought she was prepared to see him again, but she was wrong.

  “The lemons have been so abundant and large this year,” Miss Clifton said as she retrieved the pitcher from the icebox. “We have truly been blessed. Faith told me that such fresh fruit is one of the best things for the body.”

  “I suppose she would know.” Connie retrieved the glasses and put them on the tray. Bedelia placed the pitcher beside the glasses. “She is a phenomenally intelligent woman.” She surveyed the tray. “Do you suppose we should take the sugar as well?”

  “Gracious, no. It’s plenty sweet, and if the gentlemen don’t think so, they can forgo drinking it. I do not believe excess sugar is good for the body. Faith has mentioned that as well, but I had already read several articles about such things. Sugar is known to give you nightmares.”

  “How interesting.” Connie knew she could manage that without the help of sugar. She had been having trouble sleeping ever since they left Washington.

  For the most part, she was worried about her mother and father. She fretted about seeing Clint again, and now that it had happened, she wasn’t at all sure what she was feeling. He was still handsome, and his smile was still charming. He had a way about him that put folks at ease, but she wasn’t allowing his charm to intoxicate her. The last thing she needed was to fall in love with him again.

  I must stay focused on the job at hand. Mama and Papa must be found innocent of wrongdoing, and that is my primary purpose and goal.

  She lifted the tray and headed for the front door, more than a little aware that Clint waited for her on the porch. Why did he disturb her so much? It wasn’t like she fancied him anymore. She could easily say that she wasn’t in love with him.

  “But I don’t know what I do feel for him,” she muttered.

  “What was that?” Bedelia Clifton asked.

  Connie looked up and shook her head. “Nothing important.” At least she hoped it wasn’t.

  That evening, after supper was over and Clint had gone home, Tom and Connie sat on the porch and enjoyed the chilly evening. There was still a bit of light, enough so that Connie could make out Tom’s contemplative expression.

  “Penny for your thoughts?”

  He shifted in his chair. “I was just thinking about Mr. Singleton. He’s a part of our investigation.”

  “Of course.” Connie let the rocking chair begin to move. “What did you think of him?”

  “I guess I’d rather know what you thought of him.” Tom shook his head. “You seemed quite agitated in the beginning and then grew very quiet. Not at all like the Constance Browning I know.”

  She shrugged. Tom knew her far too well. “I don’t know what to think of him. I didn’t like being teased by him. It wasn’t his place to bring up the past. Not at all a gentlemanly thing to do.”

  “Are you still in love with him?”

  The question was asked so matter-of-factly that Connie answered with equal candor. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. I can’t say that I’ve given him much consideration these last few years. In fact, I made certain that I didn’t think about him. My love for him was that of a child for a heroic figure. It bore little basis in reality.”

  “Good.”

  She looked at him. “Good? Why should it matter one way or the other to you?” She got a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach. Tom sounded almost possessive of her.

  “Well . . . that is to say . . .” He stumbled over his words. “I wouldn’t want it to interfere with our work.”

  “No.” She shook her head and drew a deep breath. “Of course not.” For a moment she hadn’t been sure where he was taking this conversation, but now she could relax, knowing it was only his concern about work. The last thing she needed was for Tom to fall in love with her.

  “This job is much too important, and if you and I don’t get to the bottom of it, I fear your parents may bear the brunt of accusation.”

  “Thank you for your concern for them. It means so much to me that you care.” Connie smiled. “This is much too important to me to lose my focus. Mama and Papa are innocent, and I intend to prove it. However, I also want our work to keep a war from taking place.”

  “As do I.”

  A hired hack pulled up to the curb across the street. The passenger paid and spoke momentarily to the driver, then gave him a wave and started for the house. It was too dark to get a good look at him, but he definitely knew his way around.

  “Captain Gratton,” Tom said, getting to his feet. “It’s good you could finally join us. I was hard-pressed to leave you any supper—it was the best meal I’ve had in a long time.”

  The captain laughed. “Nancy is probably the best cook in Portland, but don’t let my cook know I said as much. Where is everyone? Are you all alone out here?”

  “I’m here, Captain.” Connie got up from the rocker. She had been hidden in the shadows, as very little light was left. “I’m Connie Browning, Faith’s cousin.”

  “I’ve heard so much about you that I feel I already know you well.” He stepped closer. “I’m very glad to meet you.”

  “Likewise. I can’t tell you how wonderful it was when I learned of your marriage to Faith. She’s such an amazing person, and if anyone has ever deserved love, it’s her.”

  “I agree and am happy to accommodate,” he replied, laughing.

  The screen door opened. “I thought I heard your voice,” Faith declared, sweeping into her husband’s embrace. They kissed tenderly, completely oblivious of Tom and Connie. When Faith pulled away, she took her husband’s arm. “Come. I’ve saved you some of your favorites, including two pieces of pie.”

  They moved as one into the house without another word to Connie and Tom. Connie found herself feeling a bit envious of their adoration for each other. Laughter rose up from the house, as well as conversation. She liked the feel of this home. It was full of life and love, just as a house should be.

  “Now where has your mind gone?” Tom asked.

  She couldn’t see his face very well and figured he couldn’t see hers either. “I was just taking a moment to be happy for Faith. I meant what I said. If anyone deserves love, it’s her. She has always been the most giving and loving of all my cousins and family. She has always sacrificed of herself and shown great concern for those around her, and yet she could never expect to marry and felt very alone, I’m sure.”

  “Why did she not expect to marry?”

  “I thought I told you. Faith is half Cayuse. Her mother—my aunt—was one of those at the Whitman Mission massacre. She was sorely abused, and Faith was the result. We don’t bring it up because . . . well, for obvious reasons, but I tell you positively everything. I really thought I’d told you about her.”

  “No, but you can trust me to keep her secret.”

  “Keep this one too, then. The captain is also part Indian. It was perfectly legal for them to wed.”

  “Tom,” Nancy said, coming outside, “Seth was hoping you might play some chess with him. It helps his mind, you know.”

  “I’d be happy to. If you ladies will excuse me.” He got to his feet. “I’ll go and see how badly I can be beaten.”

  Connie smiled. Tom was an excellent chess player and would no doubt win.

  “Jack is finally asleep,” Nancy said, leaning against the porch rail. “I love it when he sleeps. I can’t help wondering what he’s dreaming of.”

  “Are you certain he dreams? Perhaps babies don’t.”

  Nancy chuckled. “I remember once an old lady told me that babies soar with angels when they sleep. I used to try to remember when I was a baby, to see if I could recall any such trips, but sadly I couldn’t.”
>
  “People get some strange notions, don’t they?”

  “That’s for sure. Especially with all the nonsense going on at the reservation.” Nancy fell abruptly silent.

  “What do you know about it?” Connie asked. “Have you heard the rumors about Mama and Papa?”

  “I . . . well, yes. I wasn’t sure that you had. What do you know?”

  “I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

  “I know they’re innocent, Connie. I know Aunt Mercy and Uncle Adam are good people and would never do the things they’re accused of. My first husband had a hand in smuggling whiskey and weapons onto the reservation. It floored me to hear your folks accused of being involved.” She kept her voice very low. “Did you know that Seth came to Portland to learn the truth?”

  “No. I wonder if Tom knows.”

  “He does. He and Seth had a talk.”

  “Funny. He never said anything to me.” Connie frowned.

  “Well, there hasn’t exactly been time. You haven’t been alone—not really. Maybe it’s best not to say anything and let him bring it up. Maybe he didn’t want to worry you with it.”

  “We tell each other everything. It’s always been that way in the seven years I’ve known him. He was one of Uncle Dean’s students and spent more time at our house than anywhere else. Of course, his mother died shortly before I arrived, and his father was always preoccupied with business. He had very little time for Tom.” She paused to make sure they weren’t overheard. “In fact, Tom’s father was quite cruel to the family. Uncle Dean was one of Tom’s teachers, and he was so supportive and sweet to him. He encouraged him to continue with college and not allow his grief to make his choices. Aunt Phinny mothered him tenderly. Well, she mothers everyone.” Connie couldn’t help but laugh. “And did so quite well.”

  Connie remembered those days with bittersweet contemplation. They had been like a little family, and yet she had missed her own family. Her brother, Isaac, had headed off to college prior to her leaving home but returned not long after she’d left. Her mother and father were faithful to write, but it wasn’t the same. They all kept thinking there would be time for a trip to bring them all together again, but it never developed, and Connie had been devastated. What if they turned out to be strangers to her? What if home wasn’t home any longer?