The Way of Love

by Tracie Peterson

  He chuckled. “I’d be a fool not to. They’re very warm and suit me well. Now, come meet the boys.” He moved toward the two crew members who were awaiting him. “Gentlemen, this is Miss Faith Kenner, a good friend of mine and a fine physician.” He looked back at Faith. “This is Joe and Festus.”

  Faith smiled. “I’m pleased to meet you both.”

  The men smiled, but Joe was the one to speak. “I’ve heard of women learnin’ to be doctors and figured that was an oddity. Guess I wouldn’t mind if she was as pretty as you.”

  Andrew was having none of his flirting. “Joe, go find Remli and tell him I need coffee for two in the saloon. Maybe some of those cheese biscuits he made earlier. Then I want you two to get back to loading. Finish that and then see to these repairs.”

  “Sure thing, Captain.”

  Andrew looked at Faith. “Come on, let’s get inside. The wind is making the morning impossibly cold.”

  “I agree.” She followed him to the passenger saloon and was grateful to get inside out of the breeze. “Thankfully it has stopped raining.”

  “It’s bound to start up again. At least that’s what my—what Ben said at breakfast.” He looked momentarily uneasy. “He, uh, always seems to know about the weather.”

  Faith took a seat at one of the tables, and Andrew joined her.

  “How are your classes coming along?” he asked.

  “We’ve been on a break for the holidays, but they start back up on Monday, and then we must all press our noses to the grindstone. Graduation is in April, and I have to complete my thesis paper on childbed fever and modern innovations to prevent its occurrence, as well as attend a great many lectures. And, of course, there will be the inevitable tests.” Faith unbuttoned her coat. “I’ve also been asked to speak at a gathering of gentlemen who are being encouraged to donate to the medical college.”

  Andrew frowned. “A gathering of men only?”

  Faith shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. Mr. Lakewood spoke only of men, but I suppose it’s possible he said that because they will be the ones deciding whether to give money to the cause. Hopefully some of their wives will be present as well.”

  His frown deepened. “You won’t be going alone, will you? Maybe your cousin and her husband could accompany you.”

  She was touched by his concern. “I have two of the boardinghouse ladies accompanying me. They wanted to hear me speak.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. So what will you be saying to them?”

  “That’s partly what I wanted to talk to you about. My family believes that besides speaking on the virtues of women as physicians, I should use the opportunity to speak about the unjust treatment of the Indians and other people of color. Especially since it is a topic that touches me deeply.”

  “Why would you need to speak to me about that?”

  Faith shrugged. “I guess I just need an impartial opinion on the matter. My friends and family always have in mind what I should do or say, but I thought that since you are a newer friend, someone who doesn’t know everything about me . . . well, I thought you might be able to advise me.”

  “I see. I’m not sure that’s the case, but I’ll try. You say you were asked to come and help influence donors to give money to the medical college. Do you have people of color attending the college?”

  “Mercy, no. It’s hardly acceptable that women are there.”

  He nodded. “So it’s not going to promote donations to digress and talk about something unrelated to the college.”

  “That’s true.” Andrew was echoing her own concerns about possibly hampering the fundraising effort. “There are a group of students at the college who feel as I do about the injustices done to people of color. We want to start a series of lectures. My folks have even decided to help by donating money for us to secure lecture halls and create advertising.”

  “It sounds as if you will have ample opportunities to speak out against the problem of racial injustice.”

  “Yes. Yes, I will.” She smiled. “So it’s probably wise just to speak about the topic I’ve been asked to speak on and leave the other for another time.”

  A stout man entered the saloon, carrying a tray. He was of mixed race, black and perhaps Indian or Mexican. He beamed Faith a smile.

  “I see the captain is entertaining. Ain’t never seen him do that before.”

  “Don’t be making something out of nothing,” Andrew warned. “This is the woman doctor I was telling you about. The one who sewed me up. Faith, this is Remli. He’s been cooking and cleaning for the Morning Star for over ten years.”

  She nodded. “Mr. Remli.”

  “No mister,” he said, depositing the tray. “Just Remli.” He smiled. “Glad to meet you, ma’am.”

  “Faith. Just call me Faith, Remli.”

  The black man’s smile widened.

  “Thanks for the refreshments.” Andrew was already slathering butter on one of the biscuits. “You have to try this, Faith. Nobody makes biscuits like Remli.”

  She pulled off her gloves. “I’m excited to sample them.”

  Andrew handed the buttered piece to her. Faith took a bite and had to marvel at the cheesy flavor. “This is wonderful. How did you make them?”

  “I just mix up a batch of biscuits and then throw in some seasonings and grated cheese. You can put jam on ’em too.” Remli uncovered a pot of what appeared to be blackberry preserves. “The cheese goes along real nice.”

  Faith picked up a spoon and added some of the jam to her biscuit. She took another bite. The flavors were delightful. “Mmm. Heavenly.”

  Remli grinned. “Glad you like ’em. Captain, if you ain’t needin’ nothing else, I got four meat pies in the oven.”

  “By all means, see to it. That’s our supper.”

  “Nice meetin’ you, ma’am. Faith.”

  “And likewise you, Remli.”

  She waited until he’d gone to finish her biscuit, while Andrew poured the coffee. She liked the way Andrew’s crew felt like family rather than employees.

  “Would you like some cream or sugar for your coffee?” he asked.

  “Just cream.” She leaned back in her chair and smiled as Andrew added an ample portion of cream. Here was this rugged ship’s captain playing hostess at an impromptu tea party. Or coffee party, in this case. Faith had to admit she was smitten.

  “Now that we’ve resolved your questions about the lecture you’ll be giving, what else should we discuss?” he asked, handing her the cup.

  Faith took the coffee and cherished the warmth in her hands. “Why don’t you tell me about the journeys you’ve made since I saw you last?”

  “Mostly back and forth from Astoria and Fort Vancouver and then down to Oregon City. Routine shipping—a lot of flour and grain.”

  “Any problems?”

  “None to speak of.”

  “No pirates to attack you and steal away your booty?”

  He blinked at her, then burst out laughing. “No pirates. Although there was one cranky customer who thought we had shortchanged him. We sorted out the details, however, and he clearly saw his mistake and went away content.”

  She nodded and sipped the coffee. It was strong, but the cream mellowed the bitterness. She felt so at ease with Andrew that it was almost startling. Here was a man she knew very little about, and yet she felt as if they’d been friends for years.

  “Are your folks or siblings in the area?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “I was the only one of my folks’ five children who lived to see adulthood. My mother died after my siblings, and then my father. He was pretty well up in years.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that they’re all gone. That must be lonely at times. I love my family, and I don’t know what I’d do without them.”

  “The crew of the Morning Star is my family now.” He seemed rather uncomfortable and stared down at his cup.

  Faith decided to change the subject. “How did you become a riverboat captain?”

 
He shrugged. “A lot of hard work. I started out as a loader and point man. I kept an eye on the river and looked for things that could cause snags and problems. I worked from boat to boat, seeking whatever promotion I could get—learning each and every job until I found someone willing to take me on and teach me how to pilot the boat. I’ve worked stern-wheelers like the Morning Star, side-wheelers, tugs, and just about anything else that floats. I’ve even done my share of ocean voyages. I prefer the river. The ocean is always changing—the river too, but she’s less unpredictable.”

  “I’ve always loved the Willamette, and you’re right. There is a predictable nature to her. I remember when I first came to live in Oregon City after growing up on the Rogue River. I could see the outward differences in the nature of the rivers, but there were also differences that couldn’t be seen—beneath the surface, sometimes deep down. It made me think of God and how He doesn’t look at the outward appearance but at the heart of man.”

  “I’ve never heard anyone compare things quite that way. I’ll take my chances with the river before doing the same with God.”

  Faith frowned. “What do you mean? God is hardly unpredictable. The Bible shows us His character and nature from start to finish. He is constant. The only constant in the entire universe. He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. What’s to take a chance on?”

  He shrugged. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to rile you. I can see you’re even more passionate about preaching than doctoring.”

  Faith flushed. “I wasn’t trying to preach. It’s just that when people make suggestions about God’s character that contradict what I know it to be, I feel the need to defend.”

  “Defend God?” Andrew smiled. “Do you really suppose He needs our defense?”

  “Perhaps not defense so much as support.”

  “So you are making yourself a character witness for God Almighty?” Andrew grinned.

  “I remember you saying that you were acting like a Christian by saving Benjamin, but now you sound almost sarcastic about faith and a relationship with God. I thought you believed in Him.”

  “Of course I believe in Him.” Andrew reached for a biscuit and tore off a piece. “I just don’t think the Maker of the universe has time to worry Himself over me. I believe His underlying current—since you compared Him to the river—is too powerful for the likes of me.”

  “I didn’t compare God to a river. I merely suggested that like the river, man has things that he hides out of sight. At least, I was getting around to that. I only brought God into it because the Bible says He looks not on the outward appearance of man but at the heart.”

  “Big storm coming up. Miss Faith better go.”

  Faith couldn’t be sure when Ben had entered the room, but there he stood, smiling and offering his advice.

  “Good morning to you too.” Faith smiled at Ben. “Thank you for letting me know about the weather. I have no desire to be drenched.”

  “It’s gonna be a bad one.” The old Indian shook his head. “Bad like when I was a boy.”

  Faith frowned. “Then I’d best hurry.” She had no doubt Ben knew what he was talking about. “Thank you for your hospitality, Captain.” She gave him a smile and grabbed another biscuit. “I’ll take this to sustain me in case the rain starts before I get home. I’d love to continue our conversation another time.”

  Andrew followed her outside, where they found the wind had picked up and the temperature had dropped. The sky was heavy with rain-laden clouds.

  “It looks like we’re in for it, just as Ben said.” Faith secured her coat’s top buttons and then pulled on her gloves. “Hopefully I’ll see you again soon.”

  “Be careful,” Andrew said, his dark eyes narrowing. “I’m sorry if I upset you in our discussion.”

  She shook her head. “Not at all.”

  “I’d walk with you, but I need to make certain the ship is secure.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be just fine. I meant it when I said I would like to pick up our conversation another time. You’ll find I’m not easily frightened away when it comes to defending my beliefs.”

  He smiled. “Or supporting them, as you suggested.”

  They were standing so close, and to Faith it felt natural to offer him a hug. Had they been close friends or promised to each other, she might have.

  But she didn’t, because they were neither. Andrew was a fine man, and the fact that he seemed to enjoy her company as much as she did his blessed her. She knew it was dangerous to allow such feelings, but for the life of her, she couldn’t force them aside as she’d always done in the past.

  “Good-bye, Captain Gratton.” She took a bite of her biscuit and walked away.

  “Good day to you, Miss Kenner.”

  She glanced back when she’d gone nearly a block, but Andrew was already gone. No doubt, with the storm he had a great many tasks to see to. Faith turned to make her way home. She had wanted to stay and hear Andrew’s perspective on God.

  A blast of cold air almost knocked her to the ground and put her thoughts on the impending storm. The wind lessened almost as soon as it delivered the punch, but she picked up her pace. This close to the docks, there were few places a lady could seek safe refuge should the storm cut loose in the next few minutes.

  She wasn’t all that far from the Morning Star, however, when another gust came, and then another. Before Faith could steady herself, the wind was blowing steady with gale-like force and whipped the biscuit from her hands. It was just as well. She needed to hold on to her hat and skirt. She placed her hand atop the hat and put her head down in order to press on, but it was like fighting against a giant’s hold. All around her, merchants were battling to get their wares inside. Customers and dock workers were running for shelter.

  The wind’s roar seemed to grow ever louder, and a terrible screeching of metal on metal sounded from her right. Faith glanced up just as a huge piece of roofing pulled away from a store. Debris appeared all around her and swirled in a strange sort of dance. It was almost mesmerizing. Merchants continued battling to retrieve various items, but it was a hopeless task. The wind was too powerful.

  Faith hesitated. She wasn’t at all sure which way to go. The ship was closer. Perhaps she should return to the Morning Star. There was no possibility of reaching home in this gale. The streetcars wouldn’t be running, and no cab driver was going to risk his horse and carriage. She saw a large basket careening down the road, seeming to take direct aim at her. Faith sidestepped it at the last minute, but mud stung her eyes, making it impossible to see the other things coming at her. How was it possible for mud to be picked up by the wind? Yet there it was, smeared against her clothes and no doubt her face. Faith struggled to wipe her eyes. She was pelted by a variety of debris, none of which she saw. Putting her arm up to shield her head, she wasn’t surprised to find the wind had ripped her hat away.

  She tried to cry for help, but the wind choked the words back and not even the tiniest sound came from her throat. Things were getting desperate, and she decided to head back toward the Morning Star. It was just a few blocks away. Surely she could make it.

  But before she could move, another cacophony of tearing metal and wood rose above the wind’s roar. It sounded like an entire building was being ripped apart, and when she managed to look to her left, it seemed the entire block was dissolving.

  Faith saw the sign from O’Brien’s Warehouse rip off its hinges and fly directly at her. She turned to run but found it almost impossible to move, as the wind seemed to blow from every direction. The sign hit hard against her back, sending her forward into the muddy street as it flew over her and moved on down the road. Before Faith could assess herself for damage and get back to her feet, however, something hit the back of her head.

  She fell forward onto the street. Rolling to her side, she reached her gloved hand up to where she’d been hit. The ground seemed to whirl beneath her. Were they having an earthquake as well as a storm?

  She touched
her head. It didn’t hurt, so she hoped the damage was minimal. When she withdrew her hand, however, there was blood on her glove. A lot of blood.

  She tried to get up but found she hadn’t the strength. All around her, the world was coming apart piece by piece, and all she could do was lie in the street and ponder what she was going to do. How she wished Andrew would come searching for her. She imagined him finding her and saying something sarcastic about her having to tend herself. She could almost see him smiling down at her—promising her she’d be just fine, that he’d see to it.

  And then the roar of the wind grew even louder, and the light faded from the sky. Faith closed her eyes, giving in to the darkness, wondering if Andrew and the Morning Star would survive the storm.

  CHAPTER 10

  Nancy heard the rise of the wind but thought little of it until one of the shutters began banging wildly against the house. She went in search of the culprit and found that one of Mimi’s windows was to blame. Opening the window, Nancy leaned out as far as her belly would allow and grabbed the wooden shutter as it came flying toward the house. The snap of the wood against her cold fingers hurt, but Nancy was determined to secure it. When the wind tried to rip it from her grasp, she heard a cracking sound, and for a moment she thought the shutter was ripping away from the house. Instead, she glanced up in time to see the neighbor’s large fir tree fall across the street and yard.

  She froze. She looked heavenward and saw the heavy gray clouds that swirled and roiled. She couldn’t remember ever seeing such a storm. The wind picked up again and blew a steady gust of icy air. Nancy wrestled the shutter into place and locked it, then brought its counterpart forward to hook them together. It would provide the window with a minimum of protection. She hurried to secure the rest of the shutters. It was the first time since she’d moved into the house that she’d ever needed to worry about such things.

  She went to Clementine’s room and then to the empty bedroom at the end of the house and fastened the shutters. Again, a cracking sound split the air. This one sounded much closer.