Her Healing Ways

by Lyn Cote

  “I’m sorry I left. Is this Indigo’s lawyer? Is there anything I can do?”

  In reply, Mercy remained pressed against him and rested her cheek against his coat. The lawyer turned and shook the hand Lon offered him. “You’re a bit late. The jury just went out to deliberate.”

  Lon’s face fell.

  Mercy looked up at Lon. “I’m so glad thee came.” She couldn’t say more, turning her face into Lon’s shoulder, hiding her distress.

  “I’m sorry I’m late. But—”

  Then Mercy looked back up at him, really seeing his condition. “Lon, why does thee have a split lip and a black eye?” The shock of his unexpected arrival had, for a few moments, evidently overwhelmed her normal perception. “Is thee hurt?”

  “It’s a long story.” Lon kept Mercy close.

  “We have time,” Mercy said and drew him down to sit beside her.

  Lon squeezed her hand and whispered, “I’ll tell you later.”

  Mercy accepted Lon’s words, overwhelmed again by his sudden return. She reveled in Lon’s presence and his firm but gentle grip on her hand.

  “This is really a matter that the Supreme Court should take up,” the lawyer said to Mercy. “There are black settlers in Oregon State and the Washington and Idaho Territories, in spite of the exclusionary laws. The black pioneers just keep to themselves and are for the most part left alone.”

  “Well, we explained to you why this has all come about,” Indigo said, sounding angry. “I certainly have not done anything to call attention to myself. It’s all about hateful prejudice, not the law.” She rose. “I’m going to walk outside a bit. I can’t sit here.” Indigo hurried toward the door and the lawyer put on his hat and left for the café.

  Mercy suddenly realized that she had kissed Lon in front of the whole town and was actually holding hands with him. Suddenly embarrassed, she tried to withdraw her hand from his.

  He wouldn’t let go. “Please, Mercy, forgive me for leaving. I don’t know what I was thinking…” He halted. “Yes, I do. I was thinking that—”

  He was interrupted by the jury filing back into the courtroom. Their quick return appeared to surprise everyone. There was some commotion as the temporary bailiff, Tom the bartender, went out and summoned Indigo and her lawyer back into the saloon.

  Once everyone was in place, the judge returned. Everyone rose; he gaveled court back into session. He then looked to the jury. “Have you come to a verdict?”

  Foreman Slattery, with his distinctive gray shock of hair, rose. “Yes, your honor. We find the defendant not guilty.”

  For a few moments, Mercy distrusted her ears. Did he say “not guilty,” or was it just that she wanted him to say those words?

  “Would you repeat that?” the judge requested, looking and sounding incredulous.

  “Your honor, we find the defendant not guilty,” Slattery repeated, looking straight at Dr. Drinkwater. “And we also think that doctors from Boise ought to mind their own business and not mess in ours.” The jury murmured their agreement.

  Dr. Drinkwater leapt to his feet. “This can’t be legal!” The doctor’s words shattered the polite reserve of the bystanders. They all began talking, arguing. Their outburst swallowed up the rest of Dr. Drinkwater’s rant. Both the doctor and the general public were silenced when the judge began pounding his gavel. “Order in the court! Order, or I’ll empty the room!”

  An agitated silence settled over the barroom court. The judge looked to Slattery. “How did you come to this…unexpected verdict?”

  “Well, your honor,” Slattery said, looking toward Indigo and Mercy, “we decided that you out-of-town people made a mistake. Indigo isn’t black. Anyone can see that.”

  Another jury member popped up. “She’s just been out in the sun a lot.” He looked at Mercy. “Dr. Gabriel, you need to make sure your girl wears a bonnet and gloves outside from now on. We don’t want anyone else getting the wrong idea.” He sat down, looking puckishly satisfied.

  The rest of the jury nodded their agreement. A few men behind Mercy actually chuckled and a man called out, “That’ll teach Boise people to stick their noses into our business!”

  The judge pounded his gavel, glaring at the loud-mouth who called out those words. He turned his gaze to Indigo. “Will the defendant please rise?”

  Indigo did, facing him, her head high.

  Mercy was so proud of the way her beautiful daughter stood, tall and unflinching.

  “Miss Indigo Gabriel, you have been found to be not guilty of this charge by a jury of your peers.” The judge looked resigned but disgruntled. “Jury, you’re dismissed with the thanks of the Idaho Territory.” He hit the tabletop with his gavel once more, rose and withdrew into the back room.

  The outcome had come so swiftly and with such an unexpected twist that an intense, watchful mood quieted the room. Slattery made his way through the crowd to Mercy. “I want to apologize, ma’am, for the ugly words I wrote on Tarver’s store window. When I seen how you took care of the miners, I changed my mind.”

  Mercy rose and offered the man her hand. “What is thy full name?”

  “Irwin Slattery, ma’am.”

  “Irwin Slattery, thank thee for thy honesty. But I still don’t understand how the jury came to this conclusion. Thee all know that my daughter is—”

  Slattery cut her off with a conspiratorial grin. “Your girl showed her stuff, taking care of people, too. And besides, we’re not letting that quack doctor from Boise push us around. We’ll decide who gets to live in Idaho Bend and who practices medicine here.”

  Instantly, a hubbub of voices filled the room as everyone started discussing what Slattery had just revealed.

  Slattery turned to leave and then turned back. “I didn’t set off the firecrackers and write that word. I think that was kids. Firecrackers is usually boys. Trust me.”

  Mercy smiled. Her mind whirled with all that had just happened. She turned and saw Lon’s incredulous expression, which she guessed must mirror her own. Before she could say another word, he pulled her into his arms again.

  Dr. Drinkwater pushed through the crowd of well-wishers who surrounded Mercy and Indigo. Lon wanted to punch the man and send him sprawling. People let the doctor through, but the looks they were sending his way weren’t welcoming. “I am going to take this to the territorial governor—”

  “I think it’s time you went back to Boise—for your own health. Leave right away so you can get back there before dark. The woods around here are dangerous at night,” Lon said.

  Silence descended. Prickly. And foreboding.

  The Boise doctor stopped speaking and looked around. He found himself surrounded by Digger Hobson and the largest men from Digger’s mine. Each one was staring at him intently, unkindly. For once, the man was speechless.

  Indigo’s defense attorney slid through the men and took the doctor by the elbow. “Why don’t you head to Boise with me now? The prosecutor and judge have to stay and finish a few more land cases, but we can leave.”

  Dr. Drinkwater nodded, his jaw still working as though chewing words he feared to voice. People parted, letting the two men leave the saloon.

  The minute they went through the doors, Tom called out, “Well, I’d buy everybody a drink, but court’s still in session for the rest of the day!”

  Many men laughed and started a jovial argument about Tom’s spurious offer. Under cover of this, Lon led Mercy and Indigo from the saloon. Outside, the air was downright cold.

  Mercy clung to his arm. “Lon, why did thee come back?”

  Lon gazed into her honest, blue eyes and wondered how he could tell her all he wanted her to hear.

  “Aunt Mercy, I think you should take Mr. Mackey to our cabin for a cup of tea. I’m invited to my friend’s house to celebrate.”

  Lon grinned with gratitude. Sharp girl. “Thanks, Miss Indigo. A cup of tea would be most welcome.”

  Lon offered Mercy his arm and proudly led her down Main Street. They stopped
often to accept congratulations from friends and others whom they knew only on sight. Lon felt as if he had passed from night to day. The fight last night had torn down the high walls he’d built around himself. He could even breathe more easily. And the woman beside him drew him more than ever.

  Finally, they arrived at her cabin. He opened the door for her and she led him inside. As if it were his usual chore, he went to the hearth and busied himself stoking the low fire. Mercy filled an iron kettle and hung it over the fire on the hook. Being in her home and doing these mundane tasks beside her touched Lon. It was like coming home at last.

  “Come and sit down, Lon, and tell me why thee has a black eye, a split lip and probably other hurts.”

  Doing as she suggested, he grinned at her in the low light from the two small windows. “Mercy, I found the man who stabbed me in a saloon in Boise. I chased him down and…” He shook his head, still unable to believe how much had changed within him over the intervening hours.

  She put a hand over his on the table. The simple act rocked him to his core. Mercy, sweet Mercy mine.

  He drew her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “I think I’ve been changing all along—ever since you arrived in town. But last night I discovered that the man stabbed me not over the card game but because he recognized me as the commander of the Union regiment that decimated his Confederate unit.”

  He kissed her hand again and was pleased that she didn’t try to draw it from his grasp. “He’s still fighting the war. And in doing so he’s losing his present life. That’s what you’ve been telling me all along. Telling me to let go of the war. To be free of it. Free of the deaths I was powerless to prevent.” The final phrase cost him. He had to stop and let the pain flow through him once more and then let it drain away. “I still feel the pain, but I’m no longer angry at God, or myself.”

  Mercy then did something he would never have expected her to do. She leaned forward and kissed him as if it were the most natural thing for her to do.

  “Mercy,” he murmured, “I love you.” Though he knew he was speaking the truth, his own words spoken aloud surprised him. To make sure she knew he meant it, he repeated, “I love you.”

  “And I love thee, Lon Mackey. When shall we marry?”

  Her frank words shocked a bark of laughter from him.

  She turned bright pink. “I shouldn’t have said that. Thee is supposed to propose to me.” She turned even pinker.

  He rose and drew her up with him. “Mercy Gabriel, if you recall, I did propose to you, just not for the right reason. I’ll marry you as soon as you wish. Today, if you want.” He tugged her hand and reveled in folding her into his embrace.

  “Not quite today, Lon,” she whispered. “But soon. Yes, soon.”

  For several wonderful moments he held her to him. He loved this woman and she loved him. And he had a future—they had a future together. He kissed her and let the feel of her against him ease the old pain, the old resistance. “Mercy,” he murmured.

  Someone pounded on the door. “My girl’s in labor!” Ma Bailey said from outside the cabin. “You got to come.”

  Lon couldn’t believe it. Did this woman always have to pop up when he least wanted to see her?

  Mercy went to the door, brought the older woman inside and helped her sit down. “Thee shouldn’t be running like this. When did the labor begin?”

  “A few hours ago when you were busy in court.”

  “Well, first labors usually take longest. I’m sure we’ll be in time if we walk.” Mercy stopped, frowning, and then said, “Ma, I thought thy son-in-law didn’t want a woman doctor attending his wife.”

  Still panting, Ma grinned. “He’s talked to some of the men in town and they all said that you should do it. And today he got a look at that Boise doc, didn’t like him and changed his mind. Will you come?”

  “I will.” Mercy turned to Lon. “I’m afraid, dear one, that I must leave before I have made thee tea.”

  “That’s all right. I’d better get used to this. Marriage to a doctor certainly won’t be boring.” He grinned the widest and happiest grin he’d ever known.

  Ma Bailey whooped with pleasure. “I knew it! I knew you two would make a good match!”

  The long hours of labor ended just at dawn. Lon sat at Ma Bailey’s kitchen table across from the young father, Aaron Whipple. Lon had kept the gangly young man company through the long hours, making conversation and drinking coffee. At the sound of a baby’s cry, Whipple rose from the table, looking stunned and somewhat stupefied. He wobbled a little on his feet.

  Lon stood also and gripped the man by his upper arm to steady him.

  Then Ma Bailey walked out, beaming. “Come in and meet your son.”

  Whipple staggered into the room down the hall. Lon held back, but Ma motioned for him to come, too. Lon stayed outside the room but looked in at the new father and mother and the infant in the mother’s arms. The sight warmed him to his heart.

  His Mercy came to him. He put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. His wife-to-be was responsible for this happy outcome—he was certain of that.

  “Thanks,” the new father said, looking to Mercy. “Thanks, Doc.”

  “We call her Dr. Mercy around here,” Ma Bailey said, looking happier than she ever had before.

  Lon knew what the older woman was feeling. He was happier than he could ever remember being. And as long as Mercy was in his life, that happiness would continue. God, I have been avoiding You for a long time, but no more. Thank You for Your mercy and for my Mercy, too.

  Epilogue

  The town east of Idaho Bend was decorated for Christmas. Every store window displayed festive clothing, food or gifts. Lon had driven Mercy, Indigo and Sunny, with her baby girl, Dawn, to meet the train. They stood in the depot, watching for it. The sharp December wind blew against them.

  Holding on to his hat, Lon tried to ease the tension that was twisting up his spine. He was about to meet his in-laws for the first time. And since they had left home before he’d married Mercy a few weeks ago, they didn’t yet know about Mercy being his wife. They’d had no way to telegraph the news to her parents already in transit.

  “My parents will love thee,” Mercy said, straightening his collar.

  He grinned. He was still a clear pane of glass to his wife. He hoped she was right.

  The only touch of sadness was the fact that Pierre Gauthier had not returned to Idaho Bend. Lon knew that first loves often went astray. For her part, Indigo was still keeping faith that Pierre would return, focusing on waitressing, working on filling her hope chest and helping Mercy.

  They heard the train whistle and puffing steam engine. Soon the passengers, mostly people who would be heading farther west, filled the platform and depot.

  Mercy shepherded her party toward an older couple dressed in sober black—a tall man with white hair and a petite woman who reminded Lon of Mercy.

  “Mother, Father!” Mercy called out. The three took turns embracing and then Mercy turned to Lon and Sunny. “Father and Mother, this is Sunny and her little girl, Dawn.”

  Adam and Constance Gabriel greeted Sunny warmly, and the young woman curtsied and smiled shyly.

  “And this is my husband, Lon Mackey.” Mercy blushed at her own words.

  There was a moment of wordless surprise. Lon wished he could speak, but his tongue had turned to wood. He wanted to tell them how much he loved their daughter, how her love and God’s had healed him. But words failed him.

  “Well, welcome to the family, Lon Mackey,” Adam said, shaking Lon’s hand with a much younger man’s vigor. Adam studied Lon, as if delving into him deeply.

  “Yes, welcome, Lon Mackey,” Constance said, holding up her hands. “Mercy, I don’t know what to say. I thought thee had decided never to marry.” Mercy’s mother smiled at her with a knowing sparkle in her eyes.

  “I couldn’t marry a man who didn’t want me to continue my profession, of course,” Mercy said, still rosy pink. “But Lon
does and he loves me.”

  “I am one hundred percent behind Mercy continuing to practice medicine,” Lon declared.

  “And I am happy to announce that Lon is reading law. I hope he will run for territorial office in the next election.” Mercy glowed with joy.

  “Excellent!” Adam said, punctuating all the good news. “Mercy, thy mother and I are very tired. Could we go to a hotel?”

  The group headed to one of the nearby hotels where Lon and Mercy had already secured rooms for Mercy’s parents.

  After letting Adam and Constance have a few moments to freshen up, they went to a nearby café. Lon still fought twinges of nerves. So far, Mercy’s parents had been welcoming. But an unexpected son in-law could make a poor impression—he hadn’t formally asked Mercy’s father for her hand in marriage. Lon didn’t know how to rectify this faux pas.

  When the waitress delivered their meals, Mercy’s father bowed his head and said a brief prayer. The quiet prayer soothed Lon’s nerves. He began to sense the natural peace that his in-laws brought with them.

  “So thee is the man who has won my eldest daughter’s heart,” Adam said with a grin.

  “Yes, I am the lucky man.” Lon suddenly choked up. Truer words had never passed his lips.

  “Where is thee from, Lon?” Constance asked.

  “Maryland. But I have no family there except for a couple of older aunts and a few cousins. I wrote to them of my marriage, of course.”

  “I am sorry that thy parents aren’t here to share our joy,” Constance said, beaming. “We are so happy for thee. I see thy love for our Mercy in thy face.”

  Creating a small commotion and grabbing everyone’s attention, little Dawn cooed and wriggled as if reaching for Constance.

  The woman put down her fork and held out her arms for the baby. Sunny hesitated and then complied. Constance talked to the baby with soft, cheery words.

  Sunny wiped tears from her eyes. “I’m just so grateful.”

  Constance laid a comforting hand on Sunny’s sleeve. “We are the ones who are grateful. When we offered to come and take thee and thy little one home with us, we didn’t know that we would end up meeting our new son-in-law. What a wonderful surprise, such a wonderful blessing. God had it all planned for us.”