The Way of Love

by Tracie Peterson

  “I’m sorry Seth was tied up this evening,” Faith said. “Would you like me to keep you company until he returns?”

  Nancy shook her head. “No, but there is something I need to say.”

  “Then speak. You know we needn’t have secrets between us.”

  The look on her cousin’s face suggested otherwise. “Gerome Berkshire is bad news. He’s a dangerous man who hates the Indians and anyone of color. I know I’ve told you this before, but you should avoid him at all costs. Lakewood is no better when it comes to prejudices.”

  Faith could hear hesitation in her cousin’s voice. “But this is about something more, isn’t it?”

  Nancy lowered her head and appeared to stare at the sewing in her lap. “There is something else. I told you about Seth originally coming to Portland to investigate my husband. And you know that Gerome was occasionally involved with my husband’s affairs. I don’t know all of the details, but he and Albert worked with others to supply guns and liquor to the Indians. Lakewood is also involved.”

  “I just had a conversation on this very subject with Aunt Mercy when I was back at the farm. At least regarding guns and liquor. She said she and Uncle Adam are very frustrated by the amount of whiskey being consumed by the tribes on their reservation. They have no idea who is bringing the stuff in. They’re out in the middle of nowhere, and it would take great effort to carry in those goods.”

  Nancy raised her head. “I think it was probably my late husband who aided this tragedy. You can’t tell anyone, however. The investigation is continuing, although Seth is no longer involved. Gerome learned of his participation and became suspicious of Seth. When it was clear Seth’s involvement wasn’t as useful, the authorities removed him from the investigation. They have, in turn, encouraged Gerome to spy for them. I’m sure he isn’t loyal to the army or the government, but he gives the pretense of serving their cause, and that in turn allows them to keep an eye on Gerome.”

  Someone opened the front door. Nancy stiffened, and Faith saw momentary fear in her expression.

  “Hello?” It was Seth, and Nancy relaxed.

  “We’re in the front parlor,” she announced.

  He came from the foyer, absent his hat. “Good evening, wife.” He kissed the top of Nancy’s head, then smiled at Faith. “And cousin.”

  Nancy didn’t smile, and Faith found herself frowning. “Good evening.”

  “What’s going on with you two?” he asked. Neither spoke, which only prompted a rewording of his question. “Someone better tell me what you have been discussing.”

  “I’m afraid I caused a bit of a problem,” Faith declared. “I was just telling Nancy about being introduced to Gerome Berkshire and Samuel Lakewood today at school. Mr. Berkshire was rather persistent that I share an evening out with him. The conversation led us back to a warning Nancy once gave me about Berkshire.”

  “How much do you know?” Seth met Faith’s gaze, then looked at his wife. “What has been shared?”

  “She knows that you were once investigating him and why, and that he is now playing agent with the army and government,” Nancy said matter-of-factly. “Faith knows how to keep a secret, and I wanted her to fully comprehend the danger that Gerome and Mr. Lakewood represent.”

  Seth sank onto the settee. “I wish you’d said nothing.”

  “I’m sorry, Seth. I pushed her.” Faith tried not to sound overly concerned. “But you needn’t fear. I won’t say anything about Mr. Berkshire. I made it clear to him that I wasn’t interested in going out with him—that I’m devoted to my duties as a student and a healer. Mr. Lakewood, on the other hand, asked me to speak at his wife’s tea party.”

  Seth straightened and shook his head. “Speak about what?”

  His concern surprised Faith. “About females being accepted into the medical college and about my passion for medicine.”

  “Lakewood is dangerous. He isn’t the man in charge of all of this, but he’s running things in Portland for someone. He certainly makes no secret that he stands against people of color, and Nancy and my sister overheard him talking about the guns and whiskey at a party he held for Berkshire.”

  Faith shook her head. “Well, when it comes to me, I am certain all he cares about is me entertaining and educating his wife and her friends. He’s a strong supporter of the medical college.”

  “Faith mentioned talking with Aunt Mercy. She and Uncle Adam are very concerned about the whiskey that is flooding the reservation,” Nancy said, changing the subject.

  Seth’s brows drew together. “What else did she say?”

  Faith shrugged. “Just that there have been a lot of internal fights because of drunkenness. They have no idea who is supplying the alcohol, but it’s a growing problem that Aunt Mercy fears may lead to large-scale problems.”

  “You need to say nothing more about this, Faith,” Seth said sternly. “You too, Nancy. This is dangerous for both of you, and you need to leave the matter well alone.”

  “What’s the problem with talking to our aunt about something she was openly discussing with the family?” Faith countered.

  “Because the evidence points to their involvement.” Seth raised his hands. “You didn’t hear that from me. In fact, I wish I’d kept quiet, but now that I’ve said it, you must know that you cannot share this information with your aunt and uncle. They are at the very center of this investigation, and it doesn’t look good for them.”

  Instead of being afraid or even angry, Faith couldn’t keep from laughing out loud. The look of surprise on Seth’s and Nancy’s faces only amused her more. “Honestly, you can’t be serious.”

  “Very serious.” Seth looked at his wife, who nodded.

  Faith stood up and shook her head. “Then neither of you know Mercy and Adam Browning as I do. They would no more corrupt the Indians under their care—or any Indian, for that matter—than they would their own children. Their love for the Native people runs deep, and they would never allow anything that might bring them harm.” She sobered. “No matter what your evidence says, it’s wrong. They have nothing to do with this, and if you have proof otherwise, then it has been planted to deceive you from catching the true culprits.”

  She turned and left the room, unwilling to hear more.

  CHAPTER 4

  Andrew Gratton tidied his quarters, including the dirty bandages he’d just changed. He’d have them washed to use again. He glanced at the wound on his arm. It had healed nicely, thanks to the very interesting and beautiful Faith Kenner.

  He smiled at the memory of her taking him to task. She was witty and charming but also decisive and forthright. The latter traits were more positive than negative.

  “Captain?” Denny stood at the door.

  “Come in, Denny. Did you bring the log?”

  “I did, and a report. The cargo has been offloaded, and the return shipment is being taken on as we speak.”

  “Very good. Thank you.” Andrew took the log. “After you see to that, you and the boys are free to take the afternoon off. Just make sure you’re back in plenty of time for our departure for Oregon City.”

  “Will do, Captain.” The tall, skinny man, hardly more than a boy, whistled as he walked away.

  Andrew got back to the work of checking his log entries, but his thoughts kept returning to Faith. He wished he could see her again, even if just to thank her for her kindness. But even more, he’d like to confirm her claim that she was gifted as a healer and get to know what other gifts she might have.

  “Captain?” It was Denny again.

  Andrew frowned. “Is there a problem?”

  “No, sir. I found a lady on the dock. She said she needed to see you.”

  Andrew closed the log and got to his feet. “Take me to her.”

  Denny led the way, and much to his delight, Andrew found himself face to face with the very woman who had been on his mind.

  “Miss Kenner.” He tried his best not to sound overly enthusiastic. “What brings you here?”
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  “I heard the Morning Star was in port. Or dock. Whatever it is you say.” She smiled. “I felt it my duty to come check your arm. It has been nearly two weeks since I set the stitches.”

  “Yes, I suppose it has.”

  “Have you had them removed?”

  “No. I haven’t had the time, to be honest. I was delivering up around Astoria.”

  “Might I examine your arm and remove them now?” She held up her black bag. “I have all that I need to do the job.”

  “I suppose there’s no harm in that. Come to the wheelhouse.” He led the way. Once they reached the wheelhouse, however, he paused and held the door open. “After you.”

  Miss Kenner stepped past him and placed her bag on the counter. She then pulled off her gloves and began unbuttoning her coat. Andrew watched, almost mesmerized. What was it about this woman that so captivated him?

  “I think you’ll find it quite cold in here,” he said. “You might want that coat.”

  She shrugged out of it just the same. “I find it easier to work when I’m unencumbered. Now, please sit and roll up your sleeve.”

  Andrew removed his wool coat and did as instructed. “I just stopped using the bandages. The wound has completely closed and no longer seemed at risk of oozing or taking in dirt.”

  She nodded as she considered it. “It looks perfect. I’ll remove the stitches for you.”

  She opened her bag and rummaged around until she produced a bottle of her family’s special cleaning tonic. Andrew’s nervous energy left him unable to remain silent.

  “Say, that stuff is rather remarkable. I wonder if you might sell me several bottles. We often have wounds onboard, and I believe it would be a good thing to keep in stock.”

  “I can do that,” Miss Kenner replied, returning to the bag for something else. She finally brought out a pair of tweezers and scissors, as well as a small piece of cloth. “There, now we can proceed. Do you have a clean towel?”

  “Ah . . . yes.” He reached into the cupboard behind him. “It’s not very large.”

  “That’s all right. I just need it so I can clean up.” She spread the towel over the counter, then carefully poured a little of the fluid over her scissors and tweezers. She finished by doing the same with her hands. When she seemed satisfied, she looked up and smiled. “I’m ready if you are.”

  He nodded and watched as her delicate fingers made easy work of removing the sutures. He couldn’t help but wonder at this stranger. Why wasn’t she married with a family of her own?

  “What does your beau think of you working as a physician and helping strange men?” he asked.

  Miss Kenner laughed, something Andrew hadn’t anticipated. “You don’t seem all that strange to me,” she replied.

  He smiled. “I meant that in the sense of us being strangers.”

  “But we’re not. You’re the captain of the Morning Star, and I’m the woman who nearly painlessly stitched your arm.”

  “Painless? You thought that was painless?”

  She laughed again. “See there? I’m learning more about you by the minute. And to reciprocate, I am not married.”

  “Might I ask why not? I mean, you’re still in your youth and not hard on the eyes.”

  “I’m thirty. Quite the spinster, I’ll have you know.” She cleaned her instruments again, then put them back in her bag. Her intense blue eyes seemed to flash with amusement as she met his gaze.

  “Yes, I can see that.” He smiled. She did have the most remarkable way of putting him at ease.

  Just then the door opened. “Sorry. I didn’t see you had a visitor.”

  “That’s all right.” Andrew motioned the old Indian man into the room. “Come and formally meet the woman who stitched me up. Miss Kenner, this is Benjamin Littlefoot, but most folks call him Ben. He’s from the Nez Perce tribe.”

  “Ben.” She nodded and extended her hand. “I’m pleased to meet you.” To both men’s surprise, she spoke in Nez Perce.

  The old man’s face lit up, and he replied in kind. “You speak my tongue. How can this be?”

  “I can speak numerous dialects. I learned as a girl. My uncle Alex has a dear friend who is Nez Perce, and when he visited, I’d ask him to give me lessons.”

  “I’m very glad to meet you,” Ben replied, still smiling. “I seldom hear my tongue spoken anymore, and never so beautifully.”

  Andrew couldn’t help but pipe up at this. “I speak to you all the time.” He saw the surprise on Faith’s face. “I, too, speak several languages, including French, Spanish, and Chinook Wawa, or Jargon, if you’d rather.” The latter was the trade language among the Indian nations.

  Miss Kenner nodded. “That’s marvelous. I speak those as well. We three can tell many secrets, in multiple languages.”

  Andrew frowned but raised a hand to scratch his beard and hide his reaction. Hopefully Miss Kenner hadn’t noticed. Secrets were always dangerous to tell, and he knew far too many to be comfortable with such an idea.

  “It is best to guard the secrets,” the old man said, sounding a bit sad. “There is much trouble in this land.” He slipped from the wheelhouse without another word.

  “He’s right, of course,” Miss Kenner agreed.

  “He usually is.”

  Miss Kenner seemed deep in thought. “The newspaper this morning referenced the trouble with the Utes and Shoshone last year while expanding on the current problems with Victorio and his Apaches in the Southwest. But while Victorio is a fierce leader, he is mainly trying to keep his people from being forced onto the reservation, where they will have to live with their enemies. No one wants to live with their enemies.”

  “The same could be said for the whites with the Indians.”

  “But the Indians don’t have to be the enemy of the whites,” Miss Kenner protested.

  “But that’s the way it’s been seen for decades, even centuries.” Andrew knew his thoughts weren’t lost on her.

  “True, but that doesn’t make it right. Doing the wrong thing over and over will never turn it into the right thing. We need to find a way to make it so that the whites and Indians can live together.”

  He smiled. “You think you and I could just sit down and figure that out, do you?”

  “I meant a collective we. If this government and all the peoples, no matter the color of their skin, would work together, we could resolve this warring mentality. My fellow students at the medical college feel the same. We want to help in whatever way we can. I’ve even written to my folks about the desire to hold lectures to educate people. I think education is key. Just imagine if we could get everyone working together.”

  He shook his head. “I’d like that more than you can imagine, but it’s never going to happen. No matter how hard we try.”

  “Why not?” Miss Kenner seemed genuinely confused.

  “Because each side cherishes their differences enough to refuse to yield them. The whites don’t want to get along with the Indians. They want to eliminate them. Whether that means kill them or force their assimilation, they don’t want Indians, with their cultural ways and different languages and dress. They want replicas of themselves.”

  Miss Kenner considered this a moment and nodded. “I hadn’t thought of it that way, but you are right for the vast majority.”

  “Sadly, I know I am. I’ve heard the talk up this river and down. I’ve heard it from Oregon’s ports to California’s.”

  “Then we must seek a higher power to resolve it. I believe God would have us live together in peace. The New Testament speaks about there no longer being Jew and Gentile, so why not have it no longer be an issue of white or Native?”

  Andrew appreciated her unwillingness to give up. “I’m not sure God is listening anymore.”

  “Then we must pray all the harder. Like nagging children seeking their father’s attention.” She straightened and gathered her things. “We must pray without ceasing and come to Him all the more humbled and yielded in obedience. But we must never
stop seeking His help, because I know He hears us. I know He cares.”

  Faith was glad to have followed up on her stitching job. She told herself it was that alone that made her feel so happy. She tried not to remember the way her heart beat a little faster when Captain Gratton smiled or how he seemed to respect her opinions and thoughts. How different he’d been during this encounter! He was unlike some men, who treated her as if she were too stupid to reason. He reminded her of her father and the logical process he used to think through his circumstances.

  “I must say, it’s quite a surprise to run into you in this part of town.”

  Faith looked up to find Gerome Berkshire standing in front of her. She forced a smile. “If you follow me now, you’ll be even more surprised by my destination.”

  “And why would that be? Going to a dress fitting? A tea?”

  “A dissection.”

  He choked back whatever witty statement he had planned to deliver. “A dissection?”

  “Yes. I’m making my way to the livery at the corner of Southwest Park and Jefferson Street. You’re welcome to come along. As a benefactor of the school, I’m sure you’d be welcome to join us. We rent rooms above the livery. Have you ever seen the dissection of a human body?”

  “Human?” His face paled even more.

  Faith smiled. “I do love application. It’s one thing to discuss cancerous growths, all black and oozing, but to see them for yourself—to feel them and smell them—well, there is nothing more beneficial. The same is true for broken bones or defective hearts. I want to see these things and better know what to look for in the future.”

  Berkshire wiped his mouth with a folded handkerchief before dabbing his sweat-dotted forehead. “Your topic is most unusual for a beautiful young woman such as yourself. But no, I can’t accompany you, as interesting as it sounds. I’m on my way to a board meeting.”

  “I understand. Perhaps another time. I’m sure, if you spoke with the medical college president, he would be happy to set it up.” She smiled and bid him farewell. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must catch that trolley.”