Picking up the paper, she began to read Mr. Stanley’s story about her lecture. He embellished several of her comments, making her life among the Tututni sound far more harrowing than it really had been.
“Mr. Parrish will see you now.”
Faith had no choice but to put the paper aside and see what the president wanted. She hoped he wasn’t dismayed about the article. Not having read the entire thing, she could hardly defend or deny the details.
She gathered her things and made her way into the large office. Mr. Parrish sat behind a massive oak desk. It was strikingly bare for a man who was in charge of an entire college.
Faith smiled. “Good morning, Mr. Parrish.”
His expression was stern. “Please be seated, Miss Kenner.”
She did as he asked and did her best to sound cheery. “How may I be of service?”
“I’m afraid this isn’t a pleasant meeting, Miss Kenner. In fact . . . well, that is to say . . .” His voice faded, and he got up from his chair. “This is the most unpleasant meeting I’ve ever had to hold.”
She felt her stomach clench. “I’m sorry. What’s going on?”
“I’m afraid that you have upset a great number of our donors.”
“Upset them? How?” She presumed this was about the lecture she’d given. She was even more certain that it had been instigated by Samuel Lakewood, but she wasn’t going to let Parrish off easy.
“You spoke to a group of people Friday evening.”
“Yes. We had arranged another speaker, but he had to cancel at the last minute, so I took the podium.”
“I believe your topic had to do with the Native people and raising money to provide them with medicine and other supplies.”
“Yes.” She hoped her one-word answers would give him no additional ammunition to use against her.
“Our donors believe this is uncalled for. It gives the supposition that the college is in support of the matter. They are threatening to withdraw their support for the medical college unless drastic measures are taken.”
“I suppose they hope to silence me, but I won’t be silenced. The reservations were hard hit by the storm, and the Native people there have a great need for help that the government will not supply. My fellow students and I believe it is our Christian responsibility to help those who cannot help themselves. What can your donors possibly take offense at, when we are following the Bible and caring for the poor and needy?”
“Miss Kenner, I personally have no argument against what you’ve done, but without donors, this college cannot continue to function.”
Faith saw the futility of arguing. “I presume your donors want my promise that I will never again lecture on such matters, but I cannot give them that promise. I believe in what I’m doing, Mr. Parrish. I also believe that this protest is mostly stirred up by Samuel Lakewood, who is a bigot and desires for only white people to live in Oregon.”
“They are not asking for your promise, Miss Kenner. The truth is, you are being expelled from the medical college.”
“For how long?” Faith was glad that most of her work had already been completed, including her required lecture attendance.
“I’m afraid for good.”
“What?” She hadn’t meant to raise her voice, but she couldn’t help it. “I’m to graduate in April. I’ve had perfect grades and positive comments from my professors. You cannot do this.”
“I’m sorry, Miss Kenner. I have no choice. You are dismissed, effective immediately.” He looked truly sorry, but that didn’t help Faith’s state of mind. This was Samuel Lakewood’s fault, and she had never been angrier at one particular person in all her life.
“This is not fair. Have I no recourse, no means of protesting this decision?”
“No, I’m sorry. You were a good student, but this is too big a matter to ignore.”
Faith got to her feet. “This isn’t the last you’ve heard from me, Mr. Parrish. You may have yielded to Mr. Lakewood and his friends, but I doubt very seriously they will be pleased when I next speak to a group of people and tell them of the unfairness of this college and of the donors’ prejudices in particular. Not only that, but my family has been a substantial donor to this university. Let’s see what happens when they withdraw their yearly support.”
“Miss Kenner, as I said, this isn’t my desire.”
“Then maybe you should have stood up to Samuel Lakewood instead of letting him scare you into expelling me.” She could see by the look on Parrish’s face that she’d hit upon the truth. “Good day, Mr. Parrish. My father—the lawyer and donor—will no doubt be in touch.”
She stormed from the room and away from the outer office. She was halfway down the block before she realized she hadn’t bothered to put her coat back on. Part of her wanted to scream and throw things, while another part wanted to curl up in bed and have a long cry. She would have been a certified surgeon in less than three months. All of her hard work had been for nothing.
She looked up at the cloudy sky. “Why, God? Why has this happened? I’ve tried only to do what was right. I’ve tried only to serve you and others, and look what it has gotten me. I do not understand this at all!”
A Bible verse came to mind. Proverbs three, verse five. Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.
She tried to quiet her spirit. Her own understanding was failing her once again, and the Scripture said she needed to trust in the Lord . . . with all her heart.
“God, I do trust you, but I do not understand this. Not even in part.” She felt tears come to her eyes. “Help me, please.”
CHAPTER 17
Faith found the house quiet when she returned. The Clifton sisters had gone out on some mission, and Mimi and Clementine were at the school, teaching. Faith had no idea where Nancy might be, but it was just as well. She didn’t want to talk to anyone just now.
She deposited her satchel in her room and wondered what to do. Her thoughts were completely fixed on Samuel Lakewood’s being responsible for her dismissal from the college. Part of her wondered how she might get back at him for what he’d done. She was angry and hurt, and the idea of hurting him in return was at the forefront of her mind. However, she knew that wasn’t what God would want. God would call her to give it over to Him—to let go of the wrongs done to her by man and trust that He could make all things work together for good.
“But how can any good come of this?” She sighed and stretched out on her bed. “What am I to do, Lord?”
She heard the knocker sound at the front door. The last thing she wanted was to entertain someone coming to call. Perhaps Mrs. Weaver would hear it from upstairs and take care of it herself. When the knock came again, however, Faith knew no one else would save her from the task.
She took her time but finally opened the door to find a young man, probably no more than sixteen. He held out a piece of paper.
“This here is for Miss Faith Kenner,” he said. “No money needed. The captain already paid me.”
Faith took the folded paper and smiled. The only captain who would be writing to her was Andrew. “Thank you.” She opened the note as the boy made his way back down the walk.
We’re in Portland, and Remli demanded I invite you for lunch. He’s making beef pasties.
Smiling, Faith felt a sense of calm. She could go to lunch and explain everything that had happened to Andrew. He might have some good ideas as to how she could fight the situation. And if all else failed, she’d arrange a trip home to see her father and get his legal advice.
She went back to her room and began to plan what she would wear. Andrew was used to seeing her in her uniform. It might be nice to put on one of her better outfits and do up her hair in a more fashionable style.
Faith studied herself in the mirror. Her reflection served as a reminder of all that she kept hidden. Her Cayuse heritage was disguised by the way she dressed as well as the icy blue eyes she’d inherited from her mother. In the summer, Faith’s ski
n tanned to brown, making her look more like her Indian ancestors, but she always did her best to stay out of the sun, lest someone question her. It wasn’t so much to keep people from hurting her as it was to protect her mother. While family knew the truth, no one else did. Not even her mother’s closest friends were privy to the story of Faith’s conception, and Faith intended to keep it that way. If the truth leaked out, her mother would suffer.
Even though it was only nine o’clock, Faith went to work readying herself for her visit to the Morning Star. She found Nancy’s curling iron and started it heating, then went to figure out what she would wear. Faith only had a couple of winter outfits to choose from and settled on a dusty rose wool suit with a high-collared white blouse. Once she’d donned this, she let down her hair and brushed it out until it gleamed. Next, she began to curl it, and finally she pinned it up, doing her best to keep it simple yet stylish. When this was complete, she fastened a cameo her parents had given her for her thirtieth birthday to her collar and then pulled on the outfit’s matching jacket.
She looked again at her reflection. There wasn’t even a hint of an Indian staring back at her, yet Faith couldn’t help but frown. The lie was getting harder and harder to stomach, especially in light of all she’d said in her lecture. How could she convince others to see Indians and whites as the same when she didn’t see it that way herself? Yet to confess the truth would ruin her mother’s reputation as well. After all, while people may have surmised that the women of the Whitman Mission were raped, no one spoke of it. The gentler phrase were forced to be wives to the Indians was always used when speaking of what had happened, and of course no one mentioned any children conceived from that ordeal. Faith had to believe other women had gotten pregnant, and yet no one ever admitted as much. Had they sought out a midwife and gotten rid of their babies? Had they had them as her mother had and given them up—sent them away? Perhaps they had miscarried from the stress, but the fact was that no one mentioned any child being born out of that situation. If Faith were to speak openly of her ancestry, what might the repercussions be?
Finishing with her toilette, Faith dabbed a bit of perfume behind each ear. She so seldom wore the expensive scent that she felt almost ridiculous using it now. Perhaps Andrew would think her silly for her manner of dress and hair arrangement, not to mention the perfume. She hesitated, wondering if she should just change back to her uniform.
“Hello?” Mrs. Weaver’s voice called from the hall.
“Hello, Mrs. Weaver.” Faith opened her bedroom door. “I’m going to have lunch with Captain Andrew on his boat. What do you think?” She gave a twirl.
The old woman smiled. “You look lovely. I believe your captain will be pleased.”
Faith started to correct Mrs. Weaver that the captain was hardly hers, but she knew it would do little good. “What can I do for you?”
“I heard you speak to someone at the door.”
“It was just a delivery boy bringing me a message from the captain.”
“Oh, well, that’s fine. I’m sorry to bother you when you’re all dressed up, but it’s Alma. She has a sore throat that’s gotten much worse, and now she’s running a fever.”
Faith nodded. “Let me come and examine her.”
“I was hoping you might do exactly that.”
Retrieving her black bag, Faith followed Mrs. Weaver upstairs and found Alma resting in bed. The tiny black woman looked worn out.
“I’m sorry to hear that you’re unwell, Alma. I will try to determine what’s wrong and see if we can find a treatment. How long has your throat been sore?”
“Started last night. I thought maybe I just needed to drink more water. It didn’t help, and then came the fever after breakfast.”
Faith quickly looked at Alma’s throat and then checked her glands, as well as her ears and nose. Lastly, Faith listened to her heart. It had been recently discussed in class that several cases of measles had been reported in the city, but Faith saw no sign of this.
“It’s hard to tell at this point, but we’ll treat it as best we can.” Faith reached into her bag and pulled out a small bottle. “Gargle this solution at least five times a day. Then drink willow bark tea. I know Nancy keeps some in the kitchen cupboard. Make it strong at first and add honey. Above all else, stay in bed and rest. I’ll check on you again when I return home and see how you’re feeling.”
“Thank you,” Alma said, her voice scratchy and weak.
“I’ll see that she does as you’ve instructed.” Mrs. Weaver looked worried. “I couldn’t bear for anything to happen to her.”
“Well, hopefully we have caught it soon enough, and it won’t develop into anything else. However, keep an eye open for a rash, just in case it’s measles or scarlet fever.”
“I will. I promise,” Mrs. Weaver replied, going to Alma’s side. “You must get well, Alma dear. I will fix you some toast and tea this very minute.”
Faith smiled and gathered her things. It was more than a little touching to see how the two women took care of each other. Their loyalty was inspirational.
Faith made her way down the back stairs with Mrs. Weaver following close behind her. “I can’t thank you enough,” the older woman declared as they entered the kitchen. “If anything were to happen to Alma, I don’t think I could bear it. I could never live alone.”
“I doubt you will ever have to, Mrs. Weaver. You’ve become such a part of our family that I can’t imagine you not being with us always.” Faith patted the old woman’s shoulder. “Don’t fret. I’m sure that with your tender care, Alma will recover soon enough. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should be on my way. The walk to the trolley will take me a bit of time. I don’t know what time lunch is served, but I don’t want to be late.”
Mrs. Weaver smiled. “No, of course not. Although I doubt your young man would even care. You will make someone a wonderful wife—it might as well be him. You’ll see. The clock will not interest him at all, except to make him wish the hours would pass sooner until you two can be together.”
Faith allowed herself to pretend the older woman was right and that their friendship might become something more. It was a dangerous pretense, but sometimes she couldn’t help herself.
“I’m glad you could make it. I wasn’t sure your classes would allow it,” Andrew said.
“Yes, well, it seems that isn’t going to be a problem anymore,” Faith replied, taking off her coat.
“Ah, yes. You’re soon to graduate.”
“That’s hardly the case.”
Her expression was so dismayed that Andrew’s muscles tightened with concern. “What’s wrong? What are you talking about?”
She placed her long coat over the back of one of the saloon chairs, and Andrew motioned for her to sit by the large stove.
“It’s warmer over here.”
Faith took a seat. It was obvious she was upset. She looked so sad, and it made him anxious. What was wrong? Could he make it right?
“Please tell me what has happened to make you so glum.”
Faith took a deep breath. “I was expelled from school for supporting Indian affairs. I helped with a fundraiser and spoke about my time growing up with the Rogue River Indians and how awful their life on the reservation is. This morning I was called into President Parrish’s office, and he told me I was expelled—permanently.”
“Permanently? But graduation is in April.”
“It is,” Faith admitted. “I have all of my requirements completed for the most part, and my grades are perfect. I’m at the top of my class, but this is about politics.”
“Politics?” Andrew took the seat beside her. “What are you talking about?”
“Men like Samuel Lakewood and Gerome Berkshire. Men so lost in their hatred of people different from themselves that they would impose this punishment upon me for daring to oppose them. They are ruthless and underhanded. It’s no wonder they’re under investigation.” She put her hand to her mouth.
“What’s wrong?
”
Faith lowered her hand. “I wasn’t supposed to mention that, but I can’t help myself. I need to talk this out or I’ll go mad. Would you please pledge to keep what I’ve said—what I’m about to say—to yourself? To tell no one else?”
“Of course. I’m not one to gossip.” He smiled. “I would, however, like to comment on how pretty you are today. Although I rather miss the uniform.”
She laughed. “I thought dressing up for lunch would be fun. I wanted to take my mind off what happened, but at the same time I wanted to talk about it with someone . . . with you. I need counsel, and my father is miles away in Oregon City.”
“What are you seeking counsel in regard to? The expulsion?”
Faith nodded and settled in to explain everything. She spoke for over ten minutes, then eased back in her chair. “I don’t know what to do.”
Andrew took a minute to ponder the tricky situation. “You mentioned them being under investigation. Can you explain that part?”
“I’m not supposed to, but I don’t see that it’s any real harm, since you’ve pledged to keep my secrets.” She started into the story of her cousin’s deceased husband and his gun sales to the Indians.
“Whiskey is forbidden because of the Indian’s low tolerance, and of course guns are very limited—hunting only, and the government keeps a strict accounting. Berkshire and these men see no reason to adhere to the law, however. They want to get the Native people riled up, and the whiskey helps—especially when you have men sitting around with nothing to do.”
“I heard the Indians were helping with the tree removal.”
Faith nodded. “Some are. They’re paid pennies compared to what the whites receive though. And many have no desire to help the white man and refuse to lend a hand, even for pay. I honestly can’t say that I blame them.”
“No, nor can I.” He looked away and thought of his past business transactions. “I have a confession to make.”
Faith smiled. “I’ve shared all of my secrets, so you might as well reciprocate.”
He didn’t so much as move. “I’ve done business with Lakewood and Berkshire. I did a great deal of business with Albert Pritchard.”
The Way of Love Page 17
