Treasured Grace

by Tracie Peterson

  “No, I suppose not.” Grace’s thoughts were hardly on the horse’s care, however.

  “So what are you going to do now?”

  She looked at her uncle in confusion. “What do you mean?”

  He gave a chuckle. “About Alex.”

  “I’m not sure, but like I said, I’m not giving up.”

  Sam walked back to his lodge with Alex. They had buried his father and several others on the hill in keeping with tradition. The faces of the dead had been painted red, the women had wailed and cried, and the shaman had performed the rituals needed to keep the ghosts of the dead from returning. Some of his father’s favorite things were laid with him, but he had made Sam promise that no one would kill his horse to be buried with him. Horses were far too needed in the village.

  Sam was sorry that Reverend Spaulding hadn’t been there. His father had loved the missionary like a brother and had trusted his counsel. He would have appreciated words from the Bible being spoken over him. Instead, Sam and Alex had spoken such words to his father as he was dying. The Scriptures comforted Jacob Night Walker, and for this Sam was glad.

  He glanced back up the hill. It was hard to imagine his father was really gone. Sam believed that one day they would all be reunited in God’s presence, but for now it would be difficult without him. His father had always been good for advice, and Sam had never known a wiser man.

  “I’m going to miss him,” Alex said as they walked.

  “I buried a part of me with him.”

  “It’s hard not to when you love someone that much. Your father was a good man, and he deserved a better death.”

  “He told me we should go.” Sam stopped and looked out across the valley to where the tule mat lodges were clustered. “He told me it isn’t safe here and we should move. He thought all the Nez Perce should join together.”

  Alex nodded. “I understand his thinking. With the Cayuse causing trouble against their own, it makes sense to have strength in numbers.”

  “I don’t understand why they would hurt my father. He was always fair with Telokite and the others. My father’s sister was even married to a Cayuse.”

  “They’re running scared,” Alex replied. “They know some of the men sent to capture them have camped out at the mission site, while others are combing the countryside. The Cayuse are nervous, knowing that the men won’t rest until they round up the guilty parties. My fear is that they will cause such trouble that the militia will just kill them all.”

  “Fighting against the Boston men is something I understand. I don’t approve, but I understand. Whites have brought sickness and changes to the land.” Sam shook his head. “But what happened to my father and friends didn’t come at the hand of the Boston men. It happened because they wouldn’t give help to the Cayuse. It’s hard to see my people fight each other. I remember when I was younger and we were attacked by the Shoshone. I asked my father why we fought, and he told me it was because it was easier to fight than to fix what was wrong.”

  “There’s no doubt the Cayuse feel the same way. To fix what’s wrong means giving up the men guilty of attacking the mission and seeing them hanged.”

  “So they will go on attacking and hurting people—even we who have been their friends and family.” Sam shook his head. “This is not a world I want for my children.”

  Alex put his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Nor I, but it’s the world we must live in. We need to seek God’s direction on what to do. Fighting and hatred will never resolve this matter—only divine intervention can.”

  “My father loved you. He would agree with you, no doubt.”

  “I loved him too. Just as I love you, my brother.”

  Remembering the brother who had died because of his own disobedience, Sam felt an even deeper sense of loss. Must they all die and be taken from him? His mother—father—brother. All were gone, and now Sarah and the children were all that were left to him. And, of course, Alex. Alex had been the truest of brothers to him and would always be family to Sam, but Alex wasn’t Nez Perce. Alex was white, and the changes coming to upend Sam’s world were those of the white man. Alex would easily go on living in their world because he belonged there, but Sam and his people did not. They wouldn’t be accepted, nor allowed to live in peace.

  Sam’s father had always said Sam was given a gift of seeing—of knowing when something bad was about to happen. Today that gift seemed more of a curse, for Sam knew that the things to come would spell the end of his people and their way of life.

  Today he mourned more than his father’s passing.

  Chapter

  23

  Hope put a hand to her rounded abdomen. The baby would be born soon. Eletta had said something about the position of the child having dropped. She’d told Hope that meant the baby was settling in to be delivered. The very idea terrified Hope. The fundamentals of childbirth had been explained, but for the life of her, she couldn’t understand why any woman would willingly accept that much pain. One of the women at church who made a point of looking down her nose at Hope had told her the pain would be in keeping with the sin. But this sin wasn’t hers, so why should she be the one to bear it?

  Her months with the Brownings had, however, softened her heart to a degree. The women of the church had been kind for the most part. They accepted her into their circles and treated her respectably, and because of that, Hope felt her hostility lessen.

  Mr. Browning’s preaching had also given Hope cause to rethink some of her feelings. Today was no exception, as he was teaching about the suffering of three women in the Bible. Suffering that had to do with the babies they would bear or had borne.

  “These three women,” Mr. Browning began, “would bear great sorrow, but not because of anything they had done. Rather it was because of things out of their control.”

  Hope tried not to appear too interested, but his last sentence held her spellbound. Her own condition was because of things out of her control. Her suffering was great and her sorrow overwhelming at times.

  “The first woman I want to discuss is Leah. Leah was given in marriage to Jacob, but this wasn’t a love match. Jacob loved her sister, Rachel, but he’d been duped. Leah and Rachel’s father tricked him into marrying Leah. And let me tell you, that didn’t go well for any of them. You might remember that Jacob fooled his father and lied when it came to stealing his brother’s birthright, so some might see this as just deserts for Jacob. But it certainly wasn’t for Leah.

  “When Jacob realized he’d been fooled, he went to the girls’ father, Laban, and asked him why he’d done this and what he intended to do about it. Laban told Jacob that if he worked another seven years for him, he’d give him Rachel as well. Jacob agreed, and Rachel became his wife. And here’s the really sad part. Jacob loved Rachel more than he did Leah. In fact, Leah was hated. Look with me in Genesis, the twenty-ninth chapter, verse thirty-one. ‘And when the Lord saw that Leah was hated, he opened her womb: but Rachel was barren.’”

  He paused for a moment and looked out over the congregation. “God gave Leah a son, and she named him Reuben and said, ‘Surely the Lord hath looked upon my affliction; now therefore my husband will love me.’ Leah knew that not only was she not loved, she was hated. When she gives birth to another son she says, ‘Because the Lord hath heard I was hated, he hath therefore given me this son also.’

  “I’m not sure if Leah knew what her father had planned when he tricked Jacob, but I do know that she was punished for it by her husband. She suffered a lack of love, despite being given children while her sister remained barren.”

  Hope cast her gaze at the floor. She didn’t like to think about what Leah had gone through. She’d already convinced herself that no man would ever love her because of what had happened to her, and God knew that she felt the hatred of people who thought her condition was of her own doing.

  “Then there’s Jochebed, the mother of Moses,” Mr. Browning continued. “By the time she had Moses, there was trouble brewing. Pharaoh w
as starting to worry about the number of Hebrew children being born. He figured sooner or later they were going to take over, so he called the Hebrew midwives and told them that if a boy baby was born, they were to kill it, but to let the baby girls live. These midwives didn’t obey, so Pharaoh tells all of his people that if they see a Hebrew boy baby, they were to throw him into the river.

  “Jochebed knows that her baby will be thrown into the river as soon as somebody realizes he’s been born. So she decides to put him in the river herself—only she makes him a basket, seals it so the water won’t get inside, and puts him in the river. She was no doubt deeply saddened by doing this. She loved her baby, and yet she had no choice but to give him up unless she wanted to see him drown. How that must have pierced her heart. She was suffering not from something she’d caused, but because of something demanded of her. Something most unfair and unpleasing to God.”

  He paused to turn the pages of his Bible, and Hope considered all that he’d just shared and all that she’d endured since coming to stay with the Brownings. They had determined together that they wouldn’t lie about Hope’s condition. They made it clear she had been misused in the attack and therefore was not to blame. However, that didn’t stop people from condemning her. One woman had even told her point-blank that she should kill herself rather than give birth to a savage’s child. Hope didn’t bother to tell the woman that she’d felt that way once herself. Only Eletta’s words about the child’s innocence had stayed her hand.

  “The last woman I want to talk about is Mary, the mother of Jesus. Mary was just a young girl when the angel came to tell her she was going to bear the Son of God. She wasn’t asked ahead of time or given a choice in the matter. She knew that this would cause the legalists of the day to condemn her. She knew that her betrothed husband, Joseph, could order her killed for being unmarried and with child. After all, he knew the baby wasn’t his. Mary must have thought of all those things. She would have known people were going to be disappointed in her—even hateful towards her.” He glanced at Hope. “They didn’t understand.

  “And it didn’t matter that they didn’t understand,” he continued, looking back at the congregation. “Mary knew that her Father in heaven loved her. She knew that there would be suffering and sorrow, but she trusted that God had a plan and that she would be blessed because of it. So she told the angel, ‘Be it unto me according to thy word.’”

  Hope knew that nothing about her condition had anything to do with what Mary went through. She certainly wasn’t giving birth to the Son of God. Her child wasn’t being born out of God’s great love and compassion for mankind but because of the heinous actions of a man who hated her. Yet in each of the examples given, the women suffered—not at their own hand or because of something they’d done wrong—just as she did.

  “While I’ve told you about the suffering these women endured,” Mr. Browning said, “I now want to tell you about the blessings they received.

  “Leah gave birth to many sons and daughters. She may never have known the love of her husband, or in time Jacob might have learned to love her, we can’t say for sure. But we do know that God loved Leah dearly and she loved Him. Jochebed’s son Moses lived. He was saved by Pharaoh’s daughter, who then paid Jochebed to nurse her own son. Not only did God save Jochebed’s child, but He arranged for her to be paid for loving and caring for him. I’m sure some of you ladies out there wish someone would pay you to care for your children.”

  There were chuckles throughout the congregation.

  “Moses went on to lead the Israelites to freedom. How proud Jochebed must have been, but even more, how grateful she must have felt toward God for His mercy. So many of her friends had lost their sons, but she had been allowed to keep hers.

  “And of course we know what happened with Mary. She gave birth to Jesus—the Son of God, the Savior of the world. She married Joseph and had other children and no doubt great joy, but she also had great sorrow because the world condemned Jesus and nailed Him to a cross while she could only stand by and watch. But her sorrow is our joy, because without the sacrifice Jesus made, we would be condemned to eternal death. Sometimes the sorrows we bear can be used by God to bring great joy—even deliverance from bondage.”

  Hope heard little else. Eletta had once said that Hope was giving her a gift that would bring them great joy. For a moment, that thought made Hope angry, just as it had when Eletta had mentioned it. It wasn’t fair to make someone bear pain and suffering just to give someone else happiness. How could that be just or good? Yet God was both, so how could she reconcile the matter?

  But how can I not?

  She was so tired of her own angry, bitter heart. She longed to be with her sisters and to be free from the past and the nightmare of the massacre. She was only eighteen. She should be falling in love and creating a home of her own. Instead she was made to suffer. She could no longer count on any man being willing to overlook her situation.

  She thought of her mother, as she often did these days. Mama had said that love covered a multitude of sins. It was in the Bible. Hope missed her mother more than she could say. So many times she’d wished that Mama had been there to talk to—to ask questions. Mama had always been able to help Hope get rid of her anger, reminding Hope that anger and hatred ate a person up from the inside. She said that some folks had even been known to die from being so hateful. Hate destroyed the living part of them until they had nothing of life left in them.

  The baby moved within her, and Hope wondered if her anger and bitterness had infected the child. Was it possible for a mother’s sorrow and pain to be known by her unborn baby? Had her hate destroyed the child?

  Exhaustion washed over her. An exhaustion of the past and its horrors. An exhaustion of the present and the condemnation she had known. If she didn’t do something soon, she would also know that same sense of exhaustion for her future.

  September in Oregon City brought the end to a beautiful, albeit hot, summer. Grace had enjoyed the warm days. The garden had grown so well that she had been able to put up vegetables to last them the winter. Apples were also in abundance, and John McLoughlin made certain that she had as much as she wanted from his own orchards. Added to this, she had been taught to can and smoke the salmon and other fish abundant in the Willamette River.

  Throughout the spring and summer months, she and Mercy had gathered herbs and learned all kinds of remedies from the local women. Some of the Indian medicines were unfamiliar but proved very effective. Even so, Grace couldn’t make a living with her healing. Most of the women in the area could see to their own, and when things were too bad for that, there were doctors.

  As summer faded, Uncle Edward proposed to his lady love, the widow Mina Andrews. Grace had heard it said about town that most of the men in a fifty-mile radius had been trying to court the widow, but she had been secretly enamored with Edward Marsh.

  Grace was happy about her uncle finding love, but at the same time, it would change everything for her and Mercy—Hope too, when she returned. The house obviously wasn’t big enough for all of them. Mina Andrews had three young boys small enough to share the upstairs room that Grace and Mercy had been using since their uncle’s return. But that meant there’d be no room for Grace and her sisters. When Grace had mentioned this offhandedly at breakfast one morning, her uncle had laughed and agreed the house could never hold them all.

  Since then, Grace had tried to discuss it with Uncle Edward, but he was so often gone that she found it impossible. Then even when he was around, so too was Mercy or Mina and the boys, and Grace didn’t feel she could bring up the matter in front of them. And so their situation weighed her down all the more. She was, after all, the intruder. She and her sisters could hardly expect their uncle to support them their whole lives. So what was she to do?

  Just that day in church, the pastor had spoken of the duty each person owed to the community. He reminded them that without the individual doing his or her part, the people as a whole would fail. He
commented on the widowed women putting aside their mourning to marry the men of the community. It was their duty to do so in order to make a better life for everyone.

  “We are isolated here,” the pastor had said. “Therefore you must do what you can to better the whole. If that means you have to make sacrifices, then so be it. We have all found ourselves in that situation, and you alone are responsible for yielding your will to God’s.”

  But what was God’s will? She had prayed for solutions—answers to what she should do. She had come west thinking the answer was to get to Uncle Edward, but now she wasn’t so sure. Perhaps she should never have come west. After all, look at all they’d gone through. Had it been her foolishness that brought them to such a fate?

  Unable to sleep, Grace slipped downstairs and outside, letting the chilled night air revive her weary spirit. She tugged on the rawhide strip around her neck and pulled Sam Two Moon’s bear claw from beneath her bodice. He had said he kept it to remind him of the price he’d paid for having his own way. Was she going to make others pay the price for having things her own way? She looked for a long time at the claw.

  She really had no choice but to marry Nigel. There was no other way for her to survive and keep her sisters from having to go elsewhere to live and work for their keep as the orphaned Sager girls had had to do. If she didn’t accept the situation for what it was, Hope and Mercy might even find themselves having to marry, and Grace couldn’t allow that. Not after how much they’d already suffered. No, if anyone was going to sacrifice, it would be her. It was, after all, only right. Mercy and Hope had endured the massacre and survived. Grace could endure marrying a man she didn’t love for their sake. She’d done it once before. She could do it again.

  “Lord, You know I’ve prayed for answers, and nothing seems to come to me except Nigel and his proposals. I suppose I’ve been wrong to refuse him, but . . .” She sighed and tucked the necklace back inside her blouse. “But maybe this is the answer to my prayers and I’ve just been too blind to see it. I had all sorts of lofty ideas about marrying a man I truly loved—marrying Alex.” Grace shook her head. “Obviously that isn’t Your will for me.”