Clint narrowed his eyes at the thought of Elias Carter’s betrayal. It had to be him. No one else knew enough to cause any real fuss. Still, it was like a stab in the heart. He’d thought he could trust Carter. Thought he had him so frightened he would never say anything about any of it.
Connie continued. “And what does your father think about the harm you’ve caused so many people? The harm you planned against the Indians he’s fought so valiantly for all these years?”
“You really don’t know anything, do you? My father was in on all of this. He doesn’t hate the Indians as much as I do, but neither does he hold them in any admiration. He simply took advantage of them. My father saw my brother’s compassion for the Indians and how a great many easterners who’d never had to deal with them also felt that way. He simply decided to use it to his benefit. Once the Oregon Indians started a war, my father was going to lead the charge to remove all Indians in this state and those in reservations in California and Washington Territory as well. Seeing how well that would be received, especially after word came of all the white people who had been killed, my father intended to present a bill that would remove all Indians from the entire country. He was the one promoting the relocation to the far north. I thought it quite brilliant, myself.”
“It’s cruel and you know it. The Indians would never survive another forced march. That’s thousands and thousands of miles through nothing but vast Canadian wilderness. They would have died before they ever reached Alaska.”
“And that would have solved the problem nicely. No Indians to resettle, just bodies to bury.”
“And skeletons to sell. I suppose you were a part of that as well.”
“You are truly naïve. I’ve been at the center of it all. Selling artifacts and skeletons—whatever made me money. I’ve amassed a small fortune because of the bizarre interests of others.”
“You really don’t care about these people at all, do you?”
“Why should I? They’ve been nothing but trouble. Pitiful little children, with their superstitions and ridiculous beliefs. The sooner they’re dead and gone, the better for all of us.”
“And does that include me, since I’m one-eighth Indian? Will you kill anyone with the slightest bit of Indian blood?”
The kitchen door opened, and Sam Sheridan filled the doorway. Clint had never cared for him, but knowing he hated Browning had made him an ally. At least a temporary one. Clint had particular plans for Sam’s death after he had served his purpose.
“What do you want, Sam? Are the troops dead?” Clint asked.
“No, and neither is Mr. Lowell.”
Clint could see the relief on Connie’s face. He burned with anger. “So your precious Tom is still alive. I knew I should have shot him one more time to make sure he was dead.”
“You shot him?” Her voice was shocked.
“I did, and I meant to kill him. My mistake for not seeing the job through. I won’t make that mistake again.”
“Tom has done you no harm,” she protested.
“He’s ruined my plans.”
Sam nodded. “He warned the soldiers. They won’t be eating that stew you provided. I heard one of the soldiers announce this at their eating place.”
Clint let out a growl. “It was all planned. It was perfectly laid out. I told my father it was going to be done tonight.”
“Your father has also been taken by the soldiers.”
Clint whirled and punched the cabinet behind him. “Where are your men? We have a few rifles left and plenty of rounds. I want them to sneak out and kill all of the nearby settlers. Tell them to kill any soldier they can—but only if they can do it and get away unseen. I don’t want to lose what loyal men I have.”
“You don’t have any loyal men. They are my men,” Sam declared.
Clint looked at him. The hatred on Sam’s face was obvious.
“If that’s the way you feel, then I must end our association.” Clint pulled his gun and pointed it at Sam.
Without warning, Connie threw herself in front of Sam. “I won’t let you kill him. You’ll have to kill me first.”
“Stupid girl. And why do you think I won’t?” He could see out the window that it was already starting to get light.
Connie had the audacity to smile in the face of death. “Because, Clint, you need me. I’m your only hope for getting out of here alive. You need me as a hostage.”
Mercy and Adam sat in the boardinghouse’s front room, waiting for news on Connie, Isaac, and Tom. Mercy hadn’t been able to eat a bite of breakfast, nor had she been able to sleep the night before. The thought of her only daughter and son being subjected to whatever horrors that were planned made her ill. She had seen the Indians at war. They were a skilled people—a proud people. They had endured oppression and inferior treatment for decades. They would not be easily persuaded to stand down.
Glancing at Adam, she could see he had the same thoughts on his mind. They met each other’s gaze, but Mercy felt no reassurance. The only emotion in Adam’s eyes was dire worry. She squeezed his hand.
The hours passed with them doing nothing but sitting and waiting. Mercy tried to pray, but the words wouldn’t come. She knew God understood her heart, but she had so little strength left. She’d spent her entire life loving this man that the government of Oregon now wanted her to put aside. She had given him children that the world also condemned. How could people be so cruel, so unfeeling? How could they imagine that tearing her family apart would serve any good purpose?
Nancy came to announce lunch, but even now Mercy wasn’t hungry. She shook her head at Nancy’s continued encouragement.
“Aunt Mercy, you have to eat. You’ll make yourself sick, and what good will that do?”
“She’s right,” Faith declared, coming into the room. “Neither of you will be of any use to Connie, Isaac, or Tom if you are malnourished and dehydrated. As a physician, I’m ordering you both to the dinner table.” She smiled. “Please.”
Adam nodded. “We’re coming.” He stood and reached for Mercy’s hand. “Come on, we have to try. We won’t be any help if we’re both sick in bed.”
Mercy let Adam lead her into the dining room. He pulled out a chair for her, and she sat. She knew her nieces were right but wasn’t sure how she could eat when all she really wanted to do was cry.
Bedelia Clifton sat at Mercy’s left, and to Mercy’s surprise, the spinster reached over and took her hand. “Sister and I have been in prayer for you all morning. I know you must be afraid.”
Mercy nodded. “I am.”
“God laid a message on my heart for you, so I will share the verse I felt He wanted me to share.” She pulled a piece of paper from her pocket. “It’s Isaiah forty-one, verse ten.”
The words were penned in the most beautiful script. Mercy read them to herself and then noticed everyone was watching, as if waiting for her to share.
She cleared the emotion from her throat. “‘Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.’”
“Amen,” Adam said. “Those are the exact words we needed to hear, Miss Clifton.” He looked around the table. “We’re so grateful for all of you and your prayers.”
“I believe we should offer up a special one,” Seth declared. “When we pray together, it seems to add strength, and I, for one, have benefited from those prayers. Adam, if you would permit me, I’d like us to offer up our prayers for you and your family—here and now.”
“Of course,” Adam replied, looking to Mercy.
She nodded and glanced around the table at the family and new friends who so willingly offered to support them in this way. “Thank you.”
Chapter 23
You can’t kill him, Clint.” Connie stared down Clint and the gun as if she were defending her own brother. “Sam is a good man, and he just lost his wife and son.”
Clint snorted. “Good.
Then he can join them, and we’ll be rid of yet another Indian.”
“You must have some compassion left in you, Clint. You can’t go on like this. The army already knows what you’ve done, and the government is taking charge. You need to cooperate so they’ll have mercy on you.”
“They’re not going to have mercy on me, Connie. I’ve killed men and arranged for the murder of others. I killed your cousin’s first husband when he threatened to stop helping me and ordered her second husband beaten. Did you know that? I planned for Seth Carpenter to be killed at the hospital once he started to recover, but your two cousins moved him home so they could take care of him, putting a stop to my plans. So you see, there is no reason for me to cooperate, only to be hanged.”
“But perhaps if you put a stop to all of this, I can tell the court you showed compassion, and maybe they won’t hang you.”
“I’ve committed treason. They aren’t going to care that I held back from killing one Indian. You should have never come back here, Connie.”
“I had to.” She looked at Clint. His eyes were wild with hate. “I had to help Tom. I love him. That’s what people do when they love someone.”
He laughed. “You love anyone you think might show you the slightest bit of attention. Even when you first arrived here, I could see that you were questioning your feelings for me. That’s why I played on them. It was just a game, but an amusing one. I actually did think about the benefits I might get, but then I remembered that Indian blood of yours. I couldn’t see myself married to a squaw.” He paused and looked as though he’d just gotten the most brilliant idea. “Say, maybe Sam could marry you! Because after Tom finds out that you’re part Indian, he’s not going to want you any more than I do. No decent white man will ever want you.”
Sam suddenly shoved Connie aside. The next thing she knew, the two men were battling. Sam was doing his best to push the gun away.
Connie didn’t know what to do. The way the men were wrestling to get control of the pistol, she knew it could go off at any moment. Just as that thought came to mind, the gun fired. She ducked down behind a chair, wondering if either of them was hurt. She carefully raised her head. Neither man appeared injured, as they continued to fight. She started to crawl out of the room but then saw the gun lying on the floor. Clint must have dropped it. She had to get it out of their reach.
As Sam laid a punch into Clint’s stomach, Connie scrambled around the table and chairs to reach the revolver. Clint slammed Sam to the floor, but Sam was too quick for him, and the minute Clint dove on top of him, Sam flipped him over and reversed their positions.
Connie reached the gun just as two soldiers entered the room and demanded a halt to the fight.
“On your feet,” one of the soldiers commanded, taking hold of Sam. The other grabbed Clint, who tried to fight him off. Another soldier came inside to help restrain Clint.
Several additional soldiers entered, and behind them came Tom. He had a bandage on his head in the same spot where the soldier had wounded him that day at the Menards’ house.
“Tom!” Connie leapt to her feet, forgetting all about the pistol. Pushing her way through the soldiers, she wrapped her arms around the man she loved. She’d never been so happy to see anyone in her life. “Are you all right?” She reached toward his bandage, then stopped. “Are you in pain?”
“A little bit, but not so much that I failed to hear your declaration. Is it true?” He looked so serious.
Connie wasn’t sure what he was asking. “What . . . do you mean?” She met his blue-eyed gaze. “Do you mean am I really part Cherokee?”
He shook his head. “I already knew about that. It was the other thing. I heard you say that you love me.”
She smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. “I do.”
“It took you long enough to come to that conclusion.”
Her brow raised. “I hardly had any incentive to consider it.”
The soldiers were removing Clint and Sam from the house.
Connie held up her hand. “Wait!”
One of the soldiers looked back at her. “What is it?”
“Sam Sheridan is a good man. He did his best to save me from Agent Singleton. I hope you’ll show him mercy.”
The soldier looked at Sam. “He saved your life?”
“Yes. He pushed me out of the way when Singleton had a gun aimed at me.” She didn’t bother to say that Clint’s intent was to kill Sam.
Sam fixed her with a stern gaze. “You are a good woman. My wife called you friend . . . now I will call you friend. You are welcome at my home.”
Connie smiled. “Thank you, Sam. Maybe one day our fathers will be friends again too.”
The soldier in charge motioned for the others to take him. “I’ll write what you said in my report.”
She nodded. “Thank you. I’ll come by and speak with the colonel on Sam’s behalf.” When they were gone, she turned back to Tom. He was so pale. “You need to sit down.” She left his side and drew up a chair. “Please.”
“Not until I get a few things straight.” He swayed but held his ground. “I’ve loved you practically from the moment we met. You were all sass and fire, but there was a sweetness about you too. I couldn’t help myself.”
She blinked. “But you never said a word.”
“I knew it wouldn’t do any good. Your uncle told me you’d never marry a man who didn’t believe in God.”
“And yet that didn’t change your mind?”
“It agitated it a bit.” He grinned. “But your uncle Dean said I couldn’t pretend or play at a faith in a God I didn’t believe in. He said you’d know the difference, and so I loved you in silence. Then, when you stopped talking to me about God, I feared it was because you no longer cared.”
“I always cared. I will always care. You were always my dearest friend, and I loved you. I just didn’t realize I was falling in love with you.”
“When Clint shot me, I didn’t think about you,” Tom said, not taking his gaze from her face.
Connie felt a burst of disappointment. “You didn’t?”
“No. God was all I could think about. Your father told me how to be saved, and I had been considering it long and hard. As I lay there, I recalled a verse from Psalm twenty-seven. It was one your father read on that first day at breakfast. It said, ‘Hear, O Lord, when I cry with my voice: have mercy also upon me, and answer me. When thou saidst, Seek ye my face; my heart said unto thee, Thy face, Lord, will I seek.’ Then I remembered another verse your father had shared with me when I asked him how I could be saved. The one you shared with me.”
“You did?” Connie felt her heart skip a beat. Now that she had feelings for him, the only thing that had stood between them was his unwillingness to believe in God and accept Jesus as his own.
“I don’t know where it’s found, but it said that if I would confess Jesus as Lord and believe that God raised Him from the dead, I’d be saved.”
“Yes. Romans ten, verse nine.” Connie couldn’t keep the joy from her voice. “And did you?”
He grinned. “I did.”
Connie wrapped her arms around him once again. This time Tom moaned. She pulled back. “Did I hurt you?”
“My arm was grazed by a bullet. The doctor said it was fine, but it hurts when you grab me.”
“I’m so sorry, Tom. I’m just so happy.”
“It’s all right. I like it when you hug me.”
“I’ll be more careful.” She put her arms around his waist this time and laid her head on his chest. “I love you.” Then she did what she would never have thought to do before. She lifted her head and raised up on tiptoes. “I love you more than life.” She kissed him on the lips with great tenderness.
When she pulled away, she smiled, but Tom’s eyes were closed, and he was sinking down even as she held him. Thankfully, the chair was right there. Connie helped him sink down into it.
“I kiss you, and you faint.” She shook her head and smiled. “But at least I kis
sed you.”
“Thank you, Rosy, for helping me with Tom.” Connie tucked the blanket around him and smiled. “He’s a good patient with proper incentive.”
Rosy chuckled. “It will be good for me to take care of someone. I am a great nurse.”
Tom looked at Connie and shook his head. “I don’t need a nurse.”
“You passed out, and if I hadn’t been able to commandeer a couple of soldiers to carry you over here, you’d still be sitting in Clint’s kitchen.”
“I just got dizzy. And besides, you kissed me. It shocked my system.”
Connie laughed and brought him some hot tea to drink. “This is my mother’s favorite tea for headaches. I’m hoping it will ease your misery. The army doctor told me you wouldn’t take laudanum.”
“It makes me want to sleep. I had it once when I was suffering from pneumonia. I was pretty sick. The doctor dosed me up, and I think I slept the better part of three weeks. They kept waking me up to roll me into different positions and make me cough. Then they’d give me more medicine, and back to sleep I went.”
“That’s terrible, but it was probably because you were a difficult patient.” Connie looked at Rosy. “I’ll be back as soon as I telegraph my parents and let them know we’re all okay. I sent Isaac for more blankets. He should be back soon.”
As if summoned, Isaac waltzed in with a stack of blankets. “Here they are, just as you ordered, sister.”
“That will be perfect.” Connie grabbed one and unfolded it. “We don’t want Tom catching a chill. I was just about to head out and telegraph Mama and Papa.”
“No need. I already sent one. Colonel Bedford sends his compliments. We had a long talk about everything you told me. He’s releasing Sam. In fact, he’s turned the Indians over to the Indian Legislature to be dealt with. Since there was no real uprising, they aren’t concerned with imposing martial law or anything like that. However, they’re going to leave a company of soldiers here to help enforce whatever the Legislature decides. They’ve also let Washington know that they’ll need to send someone to replace Singleton as Indian agent.”
Forever by Your Side Page 24