Mama shook her head. “He’s gone to Portland on business.”
“He has?” Connie asked before thinking it through. She didn’t want anyone thinking she cared one way or another.
“Yes. He said he had officials to meet with and reservation business to tend to.”
“I thought that usually took place in Salem.”
“It does, but two men who work with his brother in Washington were in Portland and had no plans to be in Salem. I really don’t know all the details, but Clint said he’d be gone for a week.”
“Perhaps he’ll call on Nancy and Seth, since he met them on his last visit,” Connie said. “He seemed to really like Seth.”
“Everyone likes Seth,” Faith countered. “That’s why his beating came as such a surprise.”
“Yes, but didn’t you say it was because Seth stepped on the toes of the smugglers?” Hope put her hand to her mouth.
“It’s all right. Connie knows all about it. In fact, she partially got this job so that she could work to clear our names,” Mama replied.
Hope lowered her hand. “And have you found out anything new?”
Connie shook her head. “Not really. I know that whiskey is being smuggled onto the reservation.” She thought about mentioning what she’d seen at the river, but Clint had told her to remain silent on the matter. “And I know there are some very angry men on the reservation who would probably do whatever they could to kill white people.”
“Did someone say something?” Mama asked.
“I spoke with the Sheridan men early on, and they were very hostile. If anyone is planning an uprising, I bet they’re involved. I’ve not spoken with them since.”
Her mother sighed. “They still blame your father for not helping them escape the reservation. It’s so sad, because Joe used to be such good friends with your father. And Faith’s friend Ann-Red Deer is stepmother to Samson Sheridan’s wife, Ruth.”
“Ann is here?” Faith asked, excited. “I thought she was on the Siletz Reservation.”
Mama nodded. “She was, but she remarried to Will Orleans, and they settled here to raise Will’s three children. Ruth is the youngest.”
“Oh, I’m so happy. I want to see Ann as soon as possible.”
“Tom and I plan to interview her this week. Maybe you and I could go over there first, and you could introduce us. Maybe then she won’t be afraid of us.”
Her mother’s expression turned sad. “I think the people here are afraid of anything the government does. Even something as positive as recording their history. Adam told me that there has been great interest in this area, and white settlers are seeking to drive the Indians off this land. He believes firmly that this is the reason for the whiskey and rifles. Powerful white men want to cause the Indians to start a war so the army can sweep in, kill as many Indians as possible, and round up the rest to put away elsewhere. Connie said there was even thought of moving all of them north to the Department of Alaska.”
“That frozen void?” Hope asked. “I heard a lecture on that place. It sounds absolutely terrible, and there are already quite a few Natives living there.”
“Exactly,” Connie said. “The thought is that they will round up all the Native people and put them in one place. They’ll put guards on the borders and naval ships to keep the harbors closed to all but government ships, and then they’ll leave the Natives to figure it all out for themselves.”
“That would be terrible,” her mother said. “I can’t believe anyone with even a lick of sense would think that to be sound reasoning.”
“I doubt they care,” Faith said, shaking her head. “They only want to be rid of the Indians and probably hope that they’ll kill each other off. But when it comes to organizing an uprising, the Indians aren’t doing this by themselves. And furthermore, getting rid of everyone who is Indian or even part-Indian won’t solve the issue of hatred that lives in the hearts of those people responsible.”
The conversation fell silent. Connie knew they were most likely considering the fact that Faith, the result of her mother’s rape at the Whitman Mission, was half Cayuse. If they sent the reservation Indians away, would they insist on sending all Indians away? Even Connie and her father and brother were part Cherokee, and while their percentage might not be considered all that much, there were those who said that even a drop of Indian blood was too much.
The world was going mad. Their country had abolished slavery, but there were still so many who hated the former slaves that secret organizations had formed for the sole purpose of killing them. The government had rounded up all the Indians—at least they were attempting to do so—and now was considering options for getting rid of them altogether. There were anti-Chinese leagues and people who had no tolerance of anyone whose skin color was different. Grief, there were even those who felt that anyone who spoke a language other than English should be forced out. It was madness.
“Where are my favorite girls?” Connie’s father called as the men returned to the house through the back door.
“We’re in the front room, waiting for you fellas to return so we can eat,” Mama replied, getting to her feet. “Come along, ladies.”
“I’m sure you’re happy to see your aunt and uncle again,” Tom said as he and Connie worked on their notes that evening. Connie was rewriting what they’d learned for the official report.
“Yes, I love my family. They’re all so good to one another. I’ve seen and heard of other families fighting and purposely harming each other, but that has never occurred in our family. Since I was quite young, all I’ve ever known from them is love. Of course, they have their disagreements, and once in a while someone gets their feelings hurt, but they always make up.”
Tom nodded. “My brothers and sister fought all the time as children and still fight to this day. They neither seek each other’s company nor enjoy it when they’re together. My father died over ten years ago, and they’re still fighting over the estate. I think I’ve fallen in love with your family.”
Connie laughed. “They are a good bunch. I tell you what—we’ll just adopt you and make you a part of our family. There’s always room for one more.”
Tom let his gaze settle on her for a long moment. She had no idea how much he wanted to be a part of her family, but not for the reasons she might think. Working with Connie and living so near her, Tom couldn’t deny his heart. The question was, how could he make her see his feelings? Should he just tell her how he felt and see how she responded?
“Your drawings are so good, Tom. I know this will be a special part of our report. I only wish I could draw as you do.”
“Maybe I could show you some techniques sometime,” he offered.
Connie smiled. “That could be fun.” She paused, and her expression changed. “By the way, did you know that Clint is in Portland?”
“I knew he hasn’t been around.”
“Mama said he had business with some of his brother’s associates. I wonder if it has anything to do with the whiskey smuggling.”
Tom had wondered how much Clint knew about the smuggling himself. “Has he talked to your father about it?”
“I don’t know how much, but he has in the past. He told me that Papa observed one of the deliveries. He told me not to tell my father what I saw that night at the river because he’d be upset.”
“How well do you really know Clint Singleton?”
Connie considered this for a moment. “He’s always been good help for my father. He came here and worked with Papa long before he was assigned as an agent. His father wanted him to join their cause to see the Indians properly treated. So even when he wasn’t getting paid, Clint worked with my father. I think his own father paid him a stipend.
“Clint has always been eager to please his father. As far back as I can remember, he’s talked about how important that is to him. His family has always cared deeply about the Indian cause. They are strong believers in seeing the Native peoples given citizenship and treated as equals.�
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“What about Clint’s spiritual feelings?”
Connie shrugged. “He always shows up for church. We never talked about it before I left home, and now that I’m back, all he wants to talk about is giving him a chance to prove he’s worthy of my love.”
Tom looked at her. “He said that?”
She chuckled. “Yes, but he said a lot of things. He even had some opinions of you and your feelings for me.”
Tom wondered if this was a chance to share his heart with Connie. He opened his mouth to speak, but just then Isaac called to him.
“Hey, Tom, do you have time to lend me a hand?” He came into the dining room, where Tom and Connie had been working. “I’d like to get some fence up before dark.”
“I’d be happy to help.” Tom knew his declaration of love would have to wait for another time. He looked at Connie. “Sorry to leave you to work on this alone.”
“It’s no matter. Mama and the others will be back soon, and then there will be no time for it. I promised that when they returned with the berries, I’d help prepare them for making jelly and jam tomorrow. I guess we each have our promises to keep.”
Tom nodded. He followed Isaac out to the pasture, but he left his heart with Connie.
Chapter 14
Are you certain everything is ready on your end?” Mr. Smith asked Elias Carter.
The squat, fat man mopped his perspiring brow. “We’re ready when you are. The men are more than anxious to see this thing started and finished. As soon as word comes of the uprising, we will do our part and storm Salem with our demands.”
Smith smiled. “Good. I’m glad to hear everyone is being so cooperative. I was rather concerned that some of our men were less than committed.”
“No, no. Everyone is of like mind. We all want to see the Indians removed.”
Smith could see the poor man was nearly ready to have a heart attack. “Look, Carter, it might suit you to have a few drinks. You look nervous.” Only then did it dawn on Smith that perhaps Carter was anxious for another reason. “You haven’t chosen to abandon our side, have you?”
The fat man’s eyes widened. “No. No, sir. These things just always make me a little nervous. Are you sure we’ll be safe enough in Portland? No need to send my family east for a time?”
Smith studied him for a moment, then shook his head. “No, they’ll be quite safe here, I can assure you. Besides, if you were to do that, it might start a panic amongst the others. We wouldn’t want that to happen when we’re so close to victory, would we?”
Carter shook his head and swallowed hard. “No, sir.”
“Good.” Smith picked up his walking stick. “I’m counting on you, Elias.”
Smith made his way from the building and hailed a cab. The driver opened the carriage for him. “Where to, sir?”
“The Grand Hotel.” Smith settled back into the worn leather seats of the hired conveyance. It wasn’t the quality he preferred, but it would get him where he needed to go.
He thought about the meetings he’d had and wondered if he’d covered every possibility. He was determined that nothing go wrong. He’d worked too long and hard to see this thing to fruition. Now they were heading into the final days, and the thrill of the game was driving him forward in a frenzy of excitement. Once it was all said and done, a new world would dawn in Oregon. A world in which they would finally be rid of the Indians.
Smith smiled and began to hum a tune he’d heard at the opera the night before. Life was good, and it was about to get so much better.
“I thought I might never see you again,” Faith declared as she embraced her old friend Red Deer. The Tututni woman, who was now called Ann, was the mother of Mary, Faith’s playmate when she lived on the Rogue River. “I didn’t know you were here. I looked for you once when I came to spend the summer with my aunt and uncle, but they said you were at the Siletz Reservation.”
Ann cupped Faith’s cheeks with a fond smile, then dropped her hands. “I was. After my husband died, I went to live with Mary and her family.”
Faith shook her head. “It’s so hard to imagine Mary grown with children of her own.”
“She has four and is expecting another. She’s been blessed that their health has been so good.”
“I married a few months ago and am hoping to have children of my own one day,” Faith said. “Family is everything to me.”
“Mary feels that way too. She is quite happy, even living on the reservation. Her husband is a hardworking man who has learned to farm.”
“I want to hear all about them, but first let me introduce someone.” Faith stepped back. “Do you know my cousin Connie? She is Mercy and Adam Browning’s daughter.”
Ann looked at Connie and smiled. “I heard about her coming home. I knew her when she was a very small child, but then I went to Siletz to live. I’m pleased to meet you again, Connie.”
“I’m glad to meet you too, Ann—Red Deer.”
“Connie is working with a young man to write about the culture and heritage of the various tribes. The government doesn’t want your history to be lost.”
“I heard about that. The people are very guarded and uncertain about why the government wants this.”
“I think it’s probably a good thing,” Faith said, looking thoughtful. “The tribes need to ensure that future people will know all about what went on in the past. I think telling the history will help the tribes to remain a part of the future.”
Ann nodded. “I hope that is true and that it is a good thing.”
“I would never do anything to harm the real people,” Connie declared. “They are like family to me.”
Ann nodded again and patted Connie’s arm. “Come in and rest. I have fresh apple cider and warm bread. We can talk more.”
Connie followed Faith into the well-kept house. She was more than a little impressed with how nicely arranged the house was. There was a large open living area with three doors on the far wall. “You have a lovely home.”
“Thank you. We are blessed.”
Faith nodded. “Tell us how it has been with you all these years.”
“It is good. After my husband died, I married Will Orleans—a Yamhill man with a good reputation. He has four sons and a daughter. I helped to raise them, especially his daughter, Ruth. The boys are all married with their own family. Ruth is married and expecting her first baby. She’ll be stopping by soon so that we can work on baby clothes.”
Faith seemed so happy. “I’m only here for a short time with my mother and father. We came to visit my aunt and uncle. If you’d allow me to help, I’d love to stay. Then we could really catch up on all the years.”
“I would like that. And you, Connie? Would you like to stay and help?”
“For a little while, if you don’t mind.” Connie smiled. “You should know that Faith is very good at stitching. She’s now a certified surgeon.”
Ann frowned. “A surgeon?”
“I am a doctor who can perform surgeries,” Faith explained. “When someone is injured inside their body, I can cut into them and fix the problem, then sew them back up.”
Ann nodded. “A surgeon,” she tried the word again. “That is wonderful. I’m sure you save many people. Sit at my table, please.”
Connie and Faith sat down just as a light knock sounded and the door opened again to admit a young woman heavy with child. She looked at Connie and Faith with great apprehension.
Ann brought a plate of freshly sliced bread and a bowl of butter to the table. “Ruth, come in. I was just telling my old friends about you.”
The shy young woman stepped up to the table. She wore her hair in braids but pinned up. Her dark eyes searched the room and then her stepmother’s face.
“This is Faith,” Ann said. “I knew her when we lived on the Rogue River before the great march. And this is Connie, her cousin. Connie’s parents are Adam and Mercy Browning.”
Ruth smiled and gave a slight nod.
“They are going to h
elp us make baby clothes and talk about the old days.”
Seeing her stepmother so at ease, Ruth seemed to relax. She eased onto a chair and sighed.
“Ruth is due anytime,” Ann explained. “I am so happy for her to have a baby of her own. She will be such a good mother.”
Connie smiled. “I’m sure you will be a great mother.”
“And you are blessed to have Ann as your stepmother. She taught me so much,” Faith said. “Her daughter Mary was my very best friend when we lived with the Tututni.”
Ruth looked surprised. “You lived with the Indians?”
“Yes, and it was wonderful. Oh, how I sometimes long for those days. We swam in the river and played in the forest. We were so carefree. It wasn’t like the way the government has made the reservations. We were a part of the Tututni village.”
Ann’s eyes were edged with tears. “It was a good life.”
Faith reached out and touched Ann’s arm. “I am so sorry for all that was lost. It should never have happened.”
“So many people died on the march here,” Ann remembered. “There was so much pain. The government did not care how the soldiers hurt us. We did not want war, but now I fear we will have it again.”
“Why do you say that?” Connie asked.
Ann and Ruth exchanged a look. “There is so much unrest,” Ann finally said. “The men—they are not happy. I fear it will lead to war.”
Ruth nodded. “I fear for my child.” She put her hand to her stomach.
“Is there talk of war?” Connie pressed. “I have heard rumors.”
“There is always talk of war. Each time the men hear of someone standing up to the white man, they get ideas.”
“Sam says we will defeat the white man,” Ruth said, her voice a whisper. “But I am afraid for what it will mean for us.”
Connie shook her head. “Is Sam your husband?”
“Yes. Samson Sheridan.”
Now she understood. “I met your husband. The Sheridans were once good friends to my mother and father.”
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