Ruth nodded. “I know. Now there is only bitterness between my husband’s family and yours.”
“There is no bitterness in my family. My father misses his friendship with Joseph. Do your husband and father-in-law not realize they would have been killed like so many others? If they had left the reservation, the soldiers would have hunted them down and killed them. They didn’t even care about returning runaways to the reservation. It was too much trouble. They just shot them and left them to rot. It shames me deeply to think of our soldiers acting that way, but it was how they did things and probably still is.”
“Sam has so much hate,” Ruth said, shaking her head.
Ann sighed. “It is true. I knew his mother. Of all her children, he was the happiest. But not anymore . . . I fear for him.”
“I do too,” Ruth said, wiping tears from her eyes. “I fear soon I will be a widow with a child, dependent upon others for my well-being.”
“Why do you say ‘soon’?” Connie asked. “Do you know of something specific that is being planned?”
Ruth looked upset. She turned to Ann, a look of questioning in her eyes. Ann nodded, and Ruth turned back to Connie. “There is talk of a war coming.”
Ann held her stepdaughter’s hand. “We hope it is nothing more than talk, but the men are making plans. They’ve been working with someone outside of the reservation, but I do not know who. It must be a white man, however. Who else could bring them guns?”
“Someone is bringing the men guns? Have you ever told my parents or Agent Singleton?”
“No. If word got back that we had, we would be shunned forever,” Ann replied. “We are so afraid for what might happen. If our men kill the white settlers, the soldiers will come and kill all of us.”
Faith scooted her chair closer to Ann’s and put her arm around her old friend. “If you know anything about it, you must tell us. We won’t say where the information came from, but we must stop a war if we can. You are right that there are so many white people who want only to see the real people dead. We cannot let them win.”
“Why do you care so much about what happens to us?” Ruth asked.
Faith looked around. “Can you keep a secret? Would you swear an oath to me to say nothing of what I tell you?”
Ann smiled. “Of course. You are my friend—like a daughter to me.”
Ruth gave a reluctant nod. “If my stepmother says it, then so do I.”
“I am part Indian. If they work to kill all of the Indians, they will probably want to kill me too.”
Connie wasn’t comfortable enough to include herself in that statement as well, but she nodded to confirm that what Faith said was true. She didn’t know if the women believed Faith, but Faith didn’t seem to think they would question her.
“My mother was forced by a Cayuse brave, and I was born,” Faith explained.
“You do not look Indian,” Ruth said, staring hard at Faith’s face.
“No. I don’t. My mother said that was God’s blessing for me, because I lived with white people. But I also lived with Native people, and I love both. I know people can live as one and love the other—if they allow God to control their hearts.”
“We believe in the one God,” Ruth replied. “My mother taught me.” She looked at Ann and smiled. The smile faded as she continued, “But my husband does not believe in God. He did once, as did his father, but now he wants no part of it. He’s angry at God.”
“You can’t be angry at God if you don’t believe in Him,” Faith declared. “I think your husband is just angry. He probably feels that God has let him down—hasn’t treated him fairly. God can work on his heart. You must pray for him.”
“We will pray for him too,” Connie said, remembering how angry Samson Sheridan had been when she and Tom tried to talk to him. Only love could quell anger. Perhaps the love she showed to Ruth would be a start. She smiled and rubbed her hands together. “I’m looking forward to helping you with the baby clothes. I helped sew a baby quilt just a few months back. I’m also very good at embroidering. Perhaps I could embroider some of your family’s basket patterns on the gowns.”
“You can do that?” Ruth asked in awe.
“I believe I can.” Connie gave her a smile. “I can do this for my new friend.”
“But they didn’t have a date for when this war would begin?” Tom asked as Connie explained what they’d learned at Ann’s house.
“No, but they felt it would be soon. Ann told me that if she heard when the men would next be at the river to receive guns and whiskey, she would tell me.”
Tom glanced toward the sky. It would soon be dark. He’d convinced Connie to take a walk with him, but there had been plenty of light then. “I think we should get back to the house.” He looked around. They were farther from the house than he’d intended.
Connie followed suit, scanning their surroundings. “Are you worried something will happen to us?”
“I can’t rule it out. It would be foolish to remain out here, just the two of us.” Without thought to what he was doing, he took Connie’s hand. “Come on.”
She looked at him oddly but said nothing. In fact, she was strangely silent until they reached her parents’ house. She was trembling by the time he let go of her hand.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said. Connie crossed her arms over her chest, and he continued. “I know it won’t sit well with you, but I think you shouldn’t travel away from the house alone. In fact, I think we should probably start carrying a gun with us when we go around the reservation.”
Still she said nothing.
Tom took a small step closer to her. “Don’t worry. You should pray too. You once told me that God brought us here for a reason. If that’s true, I don’t think it was for us to die in a massacre.”
“Have you changed your mind about God? You sound almost as if you believe He exists.”
“I have to admit your father is very persuasive. I think I convinced myself there was no God because so many people were suffering. I couldn’t understand how there could be a good God who would stand by and allow such evil in the world. If God can do anything—then why not offer unconditional protection to those who choose to serve Him?”
“I’ve never heard you even allow for the possibility that God exists, much less consider His actions.”
He smiled. “Like I said, your father is very persuasive and learned. I can’t say that I’m ready to accept all that you believe, but I’m spending a lot of time reading Scriptures and trying to be open-minded.”
“I’m amazed by that and, well, happy. I don’t want you to go to hell. It bothers me a lot to think that someone I care for would be lost.”
Her words touched him. “Well, maybe from time to time you can start talking to me again about all that stuff you used to tell me when you were just a child. I remember quite vividly that you always quoted one verse in particular.”
She nodded. “Romans ten. ‘That if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved.’ I remember it well. I remember your response too.”
“I’m afraid to imagine what it was.” Tom tried his best to remember.
“‘If it was that simple, Connie, everyone would do it . . . everyone who was willing to believe the fairy tale that God really exists.’” She shook her head. “You used to frustrate me so much. I prayed for you all the time—that God would open your eyes before it was too late.”
“But you stopped?”
“Stopped what?”
“Stopped praying for me.” He suddenly felt very alone.
“Of course not.” Connie sounded disturbed that he would even think such a thing. “I still pray for you. I pray for you every night as I fall asleep.”
Tom wanted to pull her into his arms to kiss her and thank her. He knew her beliefs—knew how important she thought it was to pray. That she spent time praying for him made him love her all the more.
> “Oh, there you two are.” Connie’s father came out of the house. “Isaac suggested we play our Bible game tonight.”
“Bible game?” Tom asked.
Connie smiled and nodded. “Papa made us a Bible game with questions about the Bible. We answer them, and the person who gets the most right in a certain amount of time wins the game. It’s a lot of fun.”
Tom shrugged. “I don’t know how good I’ll be at something like that, but it sounds like fun.”
“Maybe we could have teams, rather than playing individually. You and Connie could be on one team, and Isaac and Mother on the other,” Mr. Browning suggested.
Connie looped her arm through her father’s. “I think that idea is perfect. I hope Mama has dessert for us too. The game isn’t nearly as much fun without dessert.”
Her father laughed as they disappeared into the house.
Tom stared after them for a moment. Maybe it was time to talk to Connie’s father and tell him how he felt. Maybe Mr. Browning could offer some advice on how to court Connie.
Court Connie.
The thought made him smile despite the fact that he felt as if he’d been courting Connie for the last seven years. He glanced heavenward. “If you really are up there, then maybe you’ll help me.” He had to laugh to himself. He had just prayed—well, after a fashion. He had prayed to a God he still wasn’t completely convinced existed.
“Tom, are you going to join the family?” Connie called from the house.
He chuckled and murmured to himself, “If I have any say about it, I am.”
Chapter 15
Days later, Connie was surprised when Ann showed up at her parents’ house with a request.
“Can you and Faith come to my home? Ruth has been feeling ill. She has been staying with me because her time is close. I wondered if Faith would use her skills as a doctor and help her. If you would both come, we could just tell others that you are going to sew with us.”
Faith joined them. “I heard my name mentioned.” She grinned. “What’s going on?”
Connie turned to her. “Ruth isn’t feeling well, and Ann wondered if we could come to the house.”
“Is she in labor?” Faith asked, sobering.
“No. She has chills and wants only to sleep.”
“Could be the ague,” Faith said. “Let me get my bag.”
“You mustn’t let it be seen,” Ann said, shaking her head. “Please hurry.” She left Connie and Faith and rushed toward the trees.
“What do you suggest we do?” Faith asked.
“Ann suggested that if anyone asks why we’re going to her house, we’ll tell them we’re going to sew together. Mother has some burlap sacks. Let’s take Ann a few things. We’ll hide your bag in the bottom.”
They went inside and told her mother and Aunt Hope what was going on. Mama came up with several things that hid the medical bag perfectly.
“I put in two yards of white flannel for diapers over and around the bag. On top of that I have several other pieces of cloth, some jars of jam, and a small sack of cookies. That should convince anyone nosy enough to look that it’s just that and nothing more.”
Faith took the sack. “It’s like carrying around books again.”
She and Connie headed out the door and began the long walk to Ann’s house. Connie couldn’t help but contemplate everything going on. “Do you suppose we can get to the bottom of all this nonsense before someone starts a war?”
“I hope so. I don’t want anyone to die.” Faith shook her head. “It’s been a heavy weight on me these past few years. Being half Indian, I bore a sense of guilt for not being honest about my heritage, but also for what was being done to the Indians by white people. I’m both . . . so how can I choose a side?”
“I know. I may only be an eighth Cherokee, but I’ve had some of those same thoughts.” Connie glanced over as Faith shifted the bag. “Are you sure you don’t want me to carry that?”
“I’m fine. Do you and Tom have any suspicions about who might be in charge among the Indians?”
“Obviously Samson Sheridan is involved, but as young as he is, I doubt he’s in charge. I keep trying to figure out who would be obvious. Joseph Sheridan was eager to leave the reservation, but so were others. Rosy’s son tried to escape, and he was shot and killed by soldiers. Many other families endured the same thing. Maybe I could ask Clint who on the reservation has been the biggest troublemaker. I could ask on the pretense of wanting to stay away from those people until he could go with Tom and me to interview them.”
“That might work. At least to narrow it down to the most likely to start a war. I wish you could come back to Portland with me next week. Helen Hunt Jackson is coming to speak there. It’s a brief stop, as she’s winding her way down to California. I’ve been corresponding with her and am just so happy that she’s agreed to do this. I’d love for you to hear her ideas. She’s amazing.”
“Where are you bound to, ladies?” Clint asked as they passed the government office. He happened to be outside smoking a cigar.
“We’re going over to our friend’s house to sew baby clothes. Want to come?” Connie smiled, knowing it was the last place he’d want to be.
“Wish I could—just for the pleasure of your company—but alas, I have too much work to do. I have to meet with the Indian Legislature in five minutes. I just figured I’d catch a few puffs on a cigar before the meeting began.”
“I hope it’s a positive meeting. Have you found what’s needed to restart the mill?”
“I got some idea of the cost when I was in Portland. I talked to a man I believe is related to you both. Gabe Armistead.”
“Yes, he’s our cousin. We hoped he and our uncle Alex would be willing to help.”
“Mr. Armistead assured me they are. Even more amazing, they don’t expect anything in return. They’re going to send down parts and a man to help make repairs. Now I just need to motivate the men here to work the mill again. They can already start work bringing the downed trees to the mill. There’s lots of other preparatory work too.” He sighed. “But motivating lazy people is never easy.”
Faith frowned, and Connie hoped she wouldn’t say anything. The last thing they needed was to fight with Clint and draw attention to themselves.
“Well, good luck. We have to get going.” Connie tugged on Faith’s arm. “Don’t we?”
Faith nodded and allowed Connie to pull her forward. Once they were out of earshot, Faith gave a growl. “I hate it when people talk like that. You’d think he’d know better, having lived with the Indians all these years.”
“I know, Faith, but it wasn’t going to serve any good purpose to argue with him. Not when Ruth needs our help right now. Tell me more about Helen . . . what was her name?”
“Helen Hunt Jackson. Though she just calls herself Helen Jackson now. She was married to an army captain named Edward Hunt. He died in a military accident. She had two sons who also died not too long afterward. Very tragic and sad.”
“Why did she take up the Indian cause?”
“She heard a lecture by Chief Standing Bear of the Ponca Indians. He spoke of his tribe’s forced removal from their lands in Nebraska and of the woes they endured at the hands of the soldiers. It moved her so much that she immediately began to research the matter, as well as other similar events. She got involved in writing and speaking in order to raise money to help the Indians. She’s working on a book about various tribes and the atrocities done to them.”
“She sounds fascinating. I would very much like to hear her. Maybe I can convince Tom that we need to go to Portland and hear her as part of our work.”
“Speaking of Tom—what’s going on with the two of you?”
Connie glanced at Faith. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“You and Tom. Are you just working together, or is it something more? It seems to be so much more.”
“So everyone says, but Tom is just a friend. A very good friend, I’ll give you that much. There’s
nothing I wouldn’t tell him. I would do just about anything for him, and I believe he feels the same way about me.”
“I believe he feels a great many things for you.”
Connie frowned. “You aren’t the only one to say that. Everyone seems to think Tom has some sort of romantic feelings for me, but he’s never said anything about it. I can’t believe he is in love with me, because he would say as much if he were. We don’t keep secrets from each other.”
“Maybe it isn’t a secret so much as a desire to find the right time and place.”
Connie considered this for a moment. “I don’t know. A few times Tom has mentioned wanting to talk to me about something, but he’s never brought up the idea of being in love.”
“How do you feel about him?”
“I don’t know. I care a great deal about him. He’s been my best friend for such a long time. But as for love, well, I’ve just never considered it. After all, he’s an atheist. Or at least was. I think Papa has just about worn that thought out of his head.”
“Well, maybe it’s time to consider how Tom fits into the scheme of things. I think you need to spend some time thinking it through. You seem ideal for each other, and friendship is the very best foundation for marriage. I see Tom’s lack of belief to be the only true obstacle.”
Connie said nothing. That obstacle was insurmountable unless God moved it. Perhaps that was why she had never considered the possibility of Tom loving her. She didn’t want to face the tremendous disappointment of loving someone she knew she could never have.
They had reached Ann’s place, so Connie felt no need to respond. She knocked on the front door.
“Come in,” Ann said, glancing behind Connie and Faith to see who might be watching.
“We brought some materials and other things to hide Faith’s medical bag,” Connie said once they were inside.
Faith placed the burlap sack on the floor and opened it. She pulled out the jars of jelly first and handed them to Connie. Then she took out the sack of cookies and the first stack of material, and finally she pulled out the flannel.
Forever by Your Side Page 16