“They have given us great sickness too. Are not some in your camp dying also?” The Nez Perce chiefs nodded, and Telokite continued. “Our grievance is shared. The white man will see us dead if we do not kill them first.” The other Cayuse nodded in agreement.
Alex could see this would not easily be resolved. “The Cayuse and Nez Perce can learn to live in peace with the Boston men,” he said softly. He didn’t want any of the men there to think he was challenging their authority. “You know I am white, but I am also a brother to the Nez Perce. I want peace with the Cayuse. I have done good by you and have never sought to harm you. Would you kill me too?”
The chiefs looked at Alex in silence, and then Telokite spoke. “You have been a good brother to us. I would not wish you to die. I do not wish all white men to die, but I don’t see that they will leave our land unless we force them to do so.” The other Cayuse nodded.
The conversation went on for nearly an hour with Alex pleading the case for peace and Sam and Jacob joining in with their own thoughts on the matter. When Alex found he was merely repeating himself, he decided he had said all that he could say. It was time to leave the matter in the hands of the chiefs.
He sat in silence while the men continued to discuss the situation. To his own surprise, he found himself praying that God would open their hearts and minds to see that not all white men were evil, just as not all Indians were good.
Finally, Telokite held up his hand. “We have heard your counsel. You are right to say that some of the Boston men have been good to us. In our pain and loss, we had forgotten this. We will not make war.”
Alex let go a heavy breath. Telokite had always been a man of his word. The other Cayuse would listen to him. Dr. Whitman and the people at the mission would be safe. His relief was such that he hardly heard anything else. They shared food and drink before finally retreating to their individual lodges for sleep. Alex had never felt so weary in all of his life. It had been a very long day.
“You spoke well, Alex,” Jacob said. “You will sleep with ease tonight.”
“Thank you, my friend. Sleep is what I desire most.”
He thought for a moment of Grace and her sisters and knew for the first time in weeks that they would be safe. Maybe now he could remain here with the Nez Perce or even return to the cabin he’d often shared with Gabriel. Either place would be better than returning to Whitman’s.
Here he had no risk of losing his heart.
Chapter
11
For days Grace found herself busy with the sick and dying and did her best not to think of Alex. Sharing the loss of Gabriel had connected her to Alex in a way that she couldn’t understand. Watching him leave had been hard, but not as hard as wondering if he’d ever return.
Still, there was plenty to do, and Grace plunged into the tasks at hand, hoping—praying—that she could help someone. Losing Gabriel had made her question her abilities as a healer, especially in light of Whitman’s accusations.
However, Whitman wasn’t doing any better with his patients. The Osborn baby had passed on, as well as her older sister, leaving Margaret Osborn inconsolable. The poor woman could do little but sob.
Mrs. Whitman had shown Silvijane Osborn’s body to one of the Cayuse chiefs as proof that white children were dying along with the Cayuse. Word had spread throughout the camp that the Indian had only laughed. Rather than see the truth, he had hoped that the rest of the white children might also die.
Of course, that was just the opinion of one angry man. Grace had learned that he too had lost a child to the measles, and others were still sick. Many Indians had died that week, and everyone at the mission had tried to offer their condolences and help in whatever way possible. Dr. Whitman even encouraged the Cayuse to bury their dead in the little cemetery near the mission. He also graciously conducted services for the mass funerals.
Grace wondered if he thought this would bring reconciliation between him and the Cayuse. For now, it seemed that no one was of a mind to argue or accuse, and the lull was much needed. A great deal of healing needed to go on in both camps.
From time to time, Grace found herself gazing across the yard and pond to where the tule mat lodges stood. She had wanted to go and offer her healing skills, but Alex said it was too dangerous, and something in her spirit told her he was right. Still, the Cayuse were no different than the whites. They needed someone to care for their needs. Seeing them up close and experiencing their lifestyle had made Grace more compassionate toward them.
“I’m going to the mission house,” Hope said, coming into the room where Grace was preparing some of her tonics. “John is feeling much better and has started joining the others in the sitting room and kitchen. I want to go keep him company.”
“Have you taken care of your other chores?” Grace asked.
Hope nodded. “I washed and hung the laundry. I was up at five.” She was all smiles, as if the work had been nothing but a passing inconvenience. “After lunch, I’m going to peel potatoes in the kitchen and help prepare the evening meal. We’re having venison stew and cornbread. John loves venison stew.”
Grace could only smile. It was clear that her sister was in love with John Sager. And from what Grace had heard from the other women, John returned Hope’s interest.
“They’re the perfect age to marry,” Harriet had whispered in Grace’s ear a few nights earlier.
Grace had a feeling that when Uncle Edward came for them, Hope would remain at the mission. “Be sure to take your shawl. There’s a chill in the air.”
Hope nodded and held up an old brown shawl. “I already thought of it.” She wrapped it around her shoulders and all but danced from the room.
Grace turned her attention back to grinding herbs. She wondered what they would do if Uncle Edward didn’t return to Oregon City. He might have died on his trip. She’d heard several of the men discussing the fact that the Indians were growing more aggressive all over Oregon Country. What if they’d attacked some of the western settlements and no one had yet received word? Worse still, what if he no longer wanted them to join him? He might have married and would not want to share his home now that he had a new wife.
Not only that, but once Grace and her sisters arrived in Oregon City, what would they do to support themselves? They still had some of the money from the sale of the farm. Grace had managed to hide about seventy dollars from the Right Reverend in the lining of her carpetbag. It would be more than enough to start, but it wouldn’t last long no matter how careful she was. She would need some sort of employment. But what? There were such great limitations for women. Grace knew she wasn’t smart enough or book-learned enough to teach. She could sew and cook, even keep house if necessary, but she doubted many people in Oregon City needed a maid. Healing was her gift, but no doubt there would already be doctors in place, and they would probably resent a woman coming in with her herbs and remedies. So what could she do? How would she take care of Hope and Mercy as she had promised their mother? There were just so many unanswered questions.
A knock sounded on the threshold behind her. Grace looked up from her place by the fire to find Andy Rogers at the door with a letter in his hand.
“Andy, come in. I’m just mixing some tonics.”
“An Indian runner came from your friend’s mission. Said it was important that you get this letter right away.”
Grace frowned and put aside her work. She got to her feet and dusted off her apron. “I hope nothing bad has happened.” She crossed the room and took the letter from Andy. Opening it, she scanned the page quickly. “Eletta is desperately sick. Mr. Browning asks that I come right away.” She looked up at Andy. “Is there someone who can take me?”
He shrugged and gave her a smile. “I’d offer to take you myself, but I’m committed to help Dr. Whitman. We’re preparing to kill one of the steers, and butchering will take some time. I’d ask Dr. Whitman to excuse me from it, but he left early this morning to go to Chief Stickus on the Umatilla River to t
he south.”
Grace nodded. She had heard that Dr. Whitman had gone with Reverend Spaulding to help the sick in that village. Earlier in the week, the reverend had come from his mission in Lapwai over one hundred miles away to bring his daughter Eliza to attend the Whitmans’ school. Harriet pointed out that peace between the Indians must have been in the works, or he never would have allowed his daughter to stay at the mission. Further support of this was the arrival of one of the Catholic bishops who was well known to have a good rapport with the local Indians. He assured the mission folks that while there were tensions over so much death and sickness, he believed cooler heads would prevail. Even so, no one was willing to completely relax their guard.
“Perhaps the runner could take me.” She didn’t like the idea of traveling so far with a stranger, but if there was no other choice, it was better than trying to find her way alone.
“No, he’s gone to Umatilla to take a message to the doctor.”
“Oh.”
Andy frowned. “That trapper friend of yours has returned. Maybe he could help you.”
She gasped. “Alex? He’s back?” Her pulse quickened. Since the death of Gabriel, she’d been able to think of little more than how much the loss had hurt Alex. She had hoped against hope he might return.
“He arrived about an hour ago. He and Sam Two Moons are at the gristmill.”
Grace nodded and stuffed the letter in her pocket. “I must go and find out if they can take me to the Brownings.” She didn’t wait for Andy’s response but maneuvered past him and down the hall. She grabbed her shawl from a peg near the door and pulled it on as she crossed the yard.
She found Alex and Sam at the mill just as Andy had said. The mill itself was little more than an exposed housing for the forty-inch grinding stones and a flume coming from the pond. Once there had been an actual building, but fire had destroyed it, and this was what had been rebuilt. Grace had heard great plans for a large millhouse and granary, but additions to the mission house had taken precedence.
Alex and Sam were talking to the miller, while several Cayuse congregated to inspect a bag of grain. The miller appeared to be grinding grain for the Indians, another good sign as far as Grace was concerned. So long as the Cayuse saw how useful Dr. Whitman’s people could be to them, they might forget the problems that had been brought by the same.
Alex spotted her as she approached and gave her a nod. “Come join us,” he urged.
“Good day, gentlemen.” She looked at each of the men and then turned her attention back to Alex. “Might I have a word? With Sam too?”
The men nodded and moved away from the gathering. Grace stopped near the edge of the pond. “My friend Eletta Browning is sick. You must have met them.”
“Are they the ones who took a mission to the northeast of here?”
She nodded. “Mr. Browning sent a runner with a letter asking me to come. Could you take me?” She took the missive from her pocket and handed it to Alex.
Alex looked at it. “It’s quite a distance. And what about your sisters?”
Grace hadn’t really thought of them. “Well, Mercy is still too weak to travel far, and Hope is in love, so I doubt she’d be willing to leave.”
Sam smiled. “In love? Who with?”
“John Sager. He’s recovering from the measles, and Hope helped nurse him back to health. Hope would sit by his bed and read to him. She said he told her that was better than reading for himself.” Grace smiled. “I thought her too young to do much more than flirt, but it would seem she’s lost her heart to him.”
“Love knows no age,” Sam replied.
Grace nodded and looked back to Alex. “I had thought to ask the Indian runner to take me but learned he was off to Umatilla to take a message to Dr. Whitman.”
Alex considered the matter for a moment. “I suppose we can take you. Do you have a horse?”
Grace nodded. “Yes. He belonged to the Right Reverend and now belongs to me.”
“Very well. Point him out, and Sam and I will retrieve him. I presume you have a saddle for him.”
“I do.” Grace knew that Sam and Alex rode bareback. “It’s in the wagon.”
Alex looked to Sam. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to speak on your behalf. Is this all right with you?”
Sam smiled. “Sure. It’s an easy distance from my village.”
“Well, get your things, Grace, and let someone know your plans,” Alex said, his attention focused somewhere behind her.
Grace turned to see that even more Cayuse had arrived at the gristmill. She looked at Alex to ascertain if something was wrong, but it was Sam who spoke.
“Walter is grinding wheat for them. He’ll be busy with that for the next couple days.”
“I had heard that,” she admitted. “Perhaps that will make the Cayuse feel more kindly toward the mission folks.”
Alex nodded. “The chiefs have promised to be at peace. We spoke to them when we were in Sam’s village. I’m hopeful the tensions will ease.”
Grace felt a chill rush over her and clutched her shawl tighter. “Perhaps it’s not safe to leave the girls here. Maybe I should hitch the wagon and make them come too.”
“Do what you like,” Alex said, “but it will slow you down considerably, and frankly . . .” He looked at Sam and fell silent.
“I think what Alex is trying to say,” Sam continued, “is that if the Cayuse decide to war, they won’t be any safer away from the mission than in it.”
Taking all of this in, Grace determined that there was little she could do. She would let the girls decide if they wanted to go with her. Grace could ask to borrow a horse for Hope, and Mercy was so small that she could easily ride double with someone.
“I’ll go talk to the girls and then meet you both at the emigrant house in twenty minutes.” Grace started to leave but then stopped. “The reverend’s horse—my horse is the black with four white socks and a blaze on his face.”
She hurried away from the men with a growing sense of worry for her friend. Eletta hadn’t shown a very strong constitution on the journey west, and Grace feared that she would succumb to whatever ailed her before they could reach the Browning mission. She murmured a prayer that they wouldn’t be too late and that she would know exactly how to help.
Throughout her teen years, Grace hadn’t allowed herself close friends. She wanted to be single-minded in regard to learning to heal. Hope had thought her silly and reveled in the company of whoever treated her kindly. Mercy had been the same way. Grace had been far more selective, and the thought of possibly losing her only friend made her all the more determined to reach Eletta quickly.
Grace found Hope sitting next to John in the kitchen. She was busy peeling potatoes, while John was winding twine and exchanging hushed conversation with Hope. She giggled and glanced up to see Grace. When Grace motioned for Hope to follow her from the room, she could see her sister’s reluctance and displeasure.
“What do you want?” Hope asked, following her outside.
“I have to go to Eletta. She’s sick, and Alex and Sam Two Moons have agreed to take me. I wanted to see if you and Mercy want to go with me. I didn’t want you to be afraid staying here without me.”
Hope laughed. “I’m not afraid. What is there to fear?”
“Well, the Cayuse for one.”
“There are more than enough men here if they should try something. Besides, Mrs. Whitman said we’re killing a steer on Monday, and the meat will benefit the Cayuse as well as us, so they won’t cause too much trouble.”
“And you truly aren’t worried about staying here without me?”
Hope shook her head. “I’m not. And I figure Mercy won’t be afraid either. I’ll watch over her and make sure she continues to take her vinegar and the other herbs you’ve been giving her.”
“I planned to see if she wanted to go with us. I don’t want either of you to feel I’ve deserted you.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Hope said. “Just go, and I’ll
tell Mercy what’s happened. You know she’s still too weak to be doing much. You said so yourself.”
Grace knew it was true and that she had been foolish to think of dragging Mercy along on a seventy-five-mile trip. “Very well. But I’ll find her and say good-bye. I want her to know we’ve discussed the matter.”
“If that’s all, I need to get back to the potatoes.”
“And John?” Grace asked with a smile.
Hope laughed. “Of course. He read some of his stories to me. He’s a wonderful writer. Wouldn’t it be amazing if his stories were published?”
“Yes. It would be.” Grace watched Hope leave. There was no doubt that her sister was happier than Grace had ever seen her. “I love you, Hope.”
Her sister turned quickly and smiled. “And I love . . .” She fell silent and laughed again before hurrying back inside.
Mercy was in the emigrant house when Grace came in to pack up her things. She was resting, just as Grace had instructed her to do every afternoon. Quickly, Grace explained her plans.
“I had thought to take you along, but after speaking to Hope, I think it’s better if you stay here. I don’t want to do anything to compromise your recovery.”
“I don’t think I should like to be back on the road so soon,” Mercy said, stroking one of her long pigtails. “I’ll be just fine staying here. Mr. Saunders is going to reopen the school on Monday, and I don’t want to miss class.” She yawned and gave a little stretch. “You will be careful, won’t you?”
Grace couldn’t help but smile. She knelt beside Mercy and pulled her into her arms. “Of course I will, you ninny. And you do likewise.” She kissed Mercy’s forehead. “I love you.”
Mercy hugged her tight. “I love you, Grace. Whenever I miss Mama, I think about how she asked you to take care of us and how much she loved all of us.” She let go and eased back to the pillow. She looked sad. “You won’t be gone too long, will you?”
Grace shook her head and got to her feet. “No longer than absolutely necessary. It will take us a couple of days to get there, and then I will have to see what needs to be done. The letter didn’t explain what type of sickness Eletta has, but I promise I will come back to you and Hope as soon as everyone is settled and on the mend. I wouldn’t think it will take more than a week or two. I should be back in plenty of time for Christmas.”
Treasured Grace Page 11
