Cherished Mercy

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Cherished Mercy Page 2

by Tracie Peterson


  Grace nodded. “‘There is a terrible spirit of hatred here for the Indian people, but I wouldn’t ask Mercy to come if I feared her to be in danger. Being white, she won’t be harmed by those who are bent on murder. The native people are mostly taking to the hills and mountains and doing their best to avoid being captured or killed. Our people here at the mission have been peaceful throughout the time we’ve been here, so the government has not worried themselves yet with their removal. However, sadly, I know that this will be the order of things. If Mercy can come, please try to arrange for her to be in Port Orford by the first of November. Isaac has plans to be there at that time, and he can bring her back to our mission. He will be there for a week, and if she doesn’t come in that time, then we will know she was unable to join us.’”

  “That’s all she has to say,” Grace said, lowering the letter, “besides a few words about their mission work.” She looked at Mercy. “I can’t possibly ask you to do this, and frankly I’m surprised that Eletta would. She knows what you went through. All I can figure is that she must be very sick.”

  Even with the memory of the massacre in the back of her mind, Mercy felt a strange peace about the matter. She had been fervently fasting and praying that God would show her what she was supposed to do with her life. She felt certain this was His calling.

  “I don’t think it sounds wise to put Mercy in the middle of a war,” Alex said, looking grim.

  “Nor do I.” Grace fixed her with a look. “I don’t want you to go. That’s very far away, and I would be frantic with worry.”

  “I want more bread and jam, please,” Gabe requested.

  Mercy didn’t look away from her sister’s gaze. “I’m going to pray about it.”

  “Do you seriously think God would want you to go?” Alex asked. He went to where Nancy was teetering on the edge of her chair and helped her down.

  “As you both know, I’ve been praying night and day for God’s direction for my life. I admit this wouldn’t be my first choice, but I also feel strangely drawn—perhaps called—to this purpose.”

  “But the dangers are clearly there,” Grace countered. “You know very well how violent it can be.”

  Mercy nodded. “I do.” She heaved a sigh. “But if God is calling me to go, then I can hardly worry about that. We both know that faith isn’t faith unless it’s tested. In spite of what happened at the Whitman Mission, I don’t hold the Indians any grudge. God calls us to forgiveness. You’ve said as much to me on more than one occasion.”

  “Yes, but . . .” Grace fell silent and looked up at Alex.

  “I think Mercy’s right. We need to pray about it.” He sounded less than convinced. “I’ll go let Lance know about lunch and meet you at the house.” He headed out of the kitchen with a frown on his face.

  Mercy helped Sean from his chair. She took his hand and then held out her free hand to Nancy. “Come on. I’ll walk with you back to the house, but you have to help me by holding my hand.”

  The children were happy to comply, and even Gabe followed her. “It’s too bad God only gave us two hands,” he told her. “If we had three, then you could hold my hand too.”

  Mercy laughed. “Well, at the rate of nieces and nephews being born in this family, I would need at least half a dozen hands, and that would just be silly.”

  “Spiders got eight legs,” Gabe offered. “Papa showed me that.”

  Mercy paused as she reached Grace, who stood frowning. “‘Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself.’” She quoted Matthew six, verse thirty-four, as Grace had often done.

  Grace’s frown only deepened. “As I recall, there’s more to that passage.”

  Mercy nodded and gave a sigh. “Yes. ‘Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.’”

  Chapter

  2

  Grace shook her head as she gathered up Hope’s dirty laundry. “I don’t want her to go, but I know Eletta. She wouldn’t have asked for help if her situation wasn’t dire. I fear she must be terribly ill.”

  Hope sat in the rocker nursing Eddie. She knew very well her sister’s apprehension regarding Mercy setting off for the Rogue River. It matched her own.

  “Mercy says she feels confident it’s what God wants her to do, but I still have no peace about it,” Grace continued. She put the final piece of clothing in her basket and straightened. “I don’t know what to say or do to change her mind.”

  “I don’t think we will change her mind. I spoke to her as well. She told me she likes the idea of helping at the mission. She has wanted to teach school for some time and figures this might be where God would have her do that.”

  Grace sank down on the edge of the bed. “She’s twenty years old and has always had sound judgment.”

  “Much sounder than my own, I have to admit,” Hope agreed.

  “I know we can’t keep her here forever . . . not that I’d even want to. She needs to find a husband and start a family of her own, but I don’t see that happening anytime soon.” Grace glanced around the room as if expecting someone to be listening in. “Eletta feels confident that Mercy and Adam might hit it off.”

  “Adam is Isaac’s brother, right?”

  Grace nodded. “She’s been praying for a good wife for him and said in her letter that it came to her one day that Mercy might very well be the right woman. Still, given she’s refused all the men around here, I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

  Hope knew what Grace was talking about. Mercy had rejected would-be suitors left and right. She was always sought out at church socials and town dances, but no one piqued her interest.

  “Maybe God doesn’t plan for her to marry and have children of her own. Some folks are called to remain unmarried,” Hope said after a long moment of silence. “We can’t know what God plans for her, nor can we live her life for her.”

  “I thought you were as much against her going as I am.”

  Hope nodded. “I am. No one fears the Indian wars more than I do, but the Indians are warring all around us. The Yakama are fighting just to the north across the Columbia. It’s not like the Rogue River Indians are the only tribes warring. I don’t want my sister endangered by throwing herself into the middle of the fight, but I know Mercy. You do too. She’s made up her mind, and we can either offer our support and make it as easy on her as possible, or we can be an obstacle in her way.”

  Grace sighed. “I know. I know too that Eletta is in great need and I would go to her myself if I could. And, of course, there’s Faith.”

  Hope had thought of little else since the idea of Mercy going to the Browning Mission had come up. Faith. The daughter she’d given birth to as the result of being raped at the Whitman Mission by one of the Cayuse.

  There were times, like on Faith’s birthday, when Hope couldn’t help but wonder about her. Was she happy? Was she pretty? Eletta wrote to say she was, but as her adoptive mother, she could hardly do otherwise.

  Eletta had been childless and desperate for a baby, and Hope had happily given her Faith. But the miles and years couldn’t stop Hope from feeling as if a tiny part of her was missing. She’d said nothing of this to anyone save Lance. She wasn’t at all sure how she could explain it to Grace. From first realizing she was with child, Hope had wanted nothing more than to be rid of the baby, and when she couldn’t get Grace’s help in that matter, she had planned her own death. Suicide had seemed better than bearing an Indian baby conceived in violence.

  “Did you hear me?” Grace asked.

  Hope shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. I’m afraid I’m rather tired. Once I finish feeding the baby, I’m sure we’ll both have a nice long nap.” She smiled. “What did you say?”

  Grace shook her head. “It wasn’t important.” She got to her feet. “Get some rest. Sean is doing fine with our bunch. He thinks it quite novel to get to sleep over at the big house.”

  “I’m sure he does. Thank you for all you’ve done.”

  A smi
le finally edged its way onto Grace’s face. “You’ve done the same for me and will again, no doubt.”

  “Especially with Mercy off to the south with Eletta.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.” Grace heaved another sigh and picked up the laundry basket. “I suppose I haven’t begun to think of what her absence will mean to us.”

  Mercy moved the Armistead sheep from one pasture to the other with the help of two collies and Gabe. The boy wasn’t nearly as much help as the dogs. In fact, Mercy often thought she should train the dogs to herd Gabe.

  “I like the sheep,” Gabe said, striding alongside Mercy as the last of the large flock passed through the gate.

  Once they were safely in the fenced pasture, Mercy closed the gate and secured it. “I do too.” She paused a moment to look over the flock as the collies, Buttons and Bows, came to Gabe for attention. With him occupied by the dogs, Mercy gave some serious thought to what leaving would mean to her.

  Since coming to Oregon Territory, the flock had grown considerably and now numbered over five hundred animals. This had always been Grace’s dream. Her sister had originally seen the sheep as a means of supporting themselves, and they had served them very well. Mercy enjoyed working with the sheep, as did Hope. There was something very calming about being with them. Some of her best hours in prayer had been spent with the flock.

  She smiled to herself. Life here had been good. The prospect of taking herself off to the wilds of the Oregon coast was intimidating, but also invigorating. She hadn’t realized it until now, but there was something very stagnant about her life here.

  “You won’t forget me, will you?” Gabe asked out of the blue.

  Mercy looked down at him. Buttons and Bows were seated beside him, looking content. “Why would I ever forget you?”

  “Because you’re going far away. I heard Mama tell Papa that you might be gone for a long time.”

  She hadn’t considered how her going might affect the children. Kneeling, she smiled. “Gabe, I could never forget you. You’re in my heart.”

  He frowned, confused. “But I thought Jesus lived in my heart.”

  Mercy chuckled and wrapped him in her arms. “Of course He does, but when He’s there, it makes our hearts all the bigger, and our love for others grows too. So there’s plenty of room for the people we love, and you are one of the ones I love the most.”

  She hugged him close and tried not to think about how much she’d miss him—how much she’d miss all of them.

  On the twentieth of October, after much discussion and prayer, Mercy found herself on a dock, waiting to board the steamer that would take her along the Willamette and Columbia rivers to Astoria, where she’d catch a ship to Port Orford. Alex stood nearby, consulting with one of the porters. Grace hadn’t wanted Mercy to travel alone, and Alex had agreed to go with her as far as Port Orford, where Isaac Browning would meet her. Secretly, Mercy had been relieved. Her biggest fear had been of traveling alone, especially since there would be delays and changes of ships.

  Movement off to her right caused Mercy to glance up. Beth Masterson was making her way down the street past the dock area. They’d once been so close but now rarely even exchanged greetings. Since she was leaving the area, Mercy felt an urge to go to her one-time friend.

  “Beth!” Mercy waved as the young woman turned. Mercy left the dock and hurried to where Beth had stopped. “I haven’t seen you in so long. How are you?”

  Beth shook her head, looking bedraggled. “I can hardly tell. I’m so busy.” She motioned to her very large abdomen. “This is number four and due next month.”

  Mercy smiled. “You must be very happy. I’m sure Toby is.”

  Beth frowned then quickly recovered. “The children are quite dear. Toby says the three boys will be a great help in farming the land when they’re older. He hopes this one will be a boy too.”

  The Masterson children ranged in age from four to not yet a year old. Beth had been expecting a child pretty much every year since her marriage to Toby in 1850.

  “What about you, Beth?”

  “Me? What do you mean?” She looked surprised.

  Mercy was overwhelmed with compassion for her former friend. Beth was her own age yet looked a dozen years older. She was unkempt, her hair barely pinned in a bun, and her brown eyes had lost their luster.

  “I meant how are you doing with all that responsibility?”

  Beth looked away. “Mother Masterson helps with the children when I come to town. That’s where they are right now. I was on my way to purchase some flannel. We need to make more diapers.” To Mercy’s surprise, tears came to Beth’s eyes.

  Seeing Beth so distressed, Mercy couldn’t help but reach out to touch her arm. “What is it, Beth?”

  “I’m sorry.” She shook her head and choked back a sob. “I’m just so tired.”

  Mercy wasn’t at all sure what to say. She and Beth had barely spoken to each other in years, and now here she was, falling apart. “Is there anything I can do? I’m leaving shortly to go south to help a friend of the family, but I hate to go seeing you so troubled.”

  Beth shook her head again and struggled to regain her composure. “I’ve treated you abominably all these years, and I’m sorry. Toby wouldn’t allow—” She fell silent and shook her head. “I should have listened to you, Mercy. Being married isn’t at all what I thought it would be. Not only that, but—” She again stopped midsentence. After a moment of looking at the ground, she glanced up to meet Mercy’s eyes. “Toby doesn’t even love me.”

  Mercy was stunned. She felt such sorrow for her old friend that all she could do was pull her into her arms for a hug. “I’m sure you’re wrong,” she whispered against Beth’s ear.

  “No.” Beth pulled back. “He doesn’t. He told me so. He said he only married me to get the extra land.”

  It was just as Mercy had suspected. Toby had proposed to her for the same purpose. It was the very reason she had tried to stop Beth from rushing into marriage.

  “I’m so sorry to put all of this on you,” Beth said, wiping her tears with the edge of her shawl. “I suppose everything just overwhelmed me today. The baby has been sick, and I haven’t been sleeping well.”

  “Beth, I know we haven’t been close for a while, but I’ve never stopped caring for you. I admit I haven’t been very faithful to pray for you, however, and I vow here and now to change my ways.”

  “I miss our friendship,” Beth admitted. “I miss the fun we used to have dreaming about the future.”

  Mercy hugged her again. “We’ll always be friends.”

  “Mercy, it’s time to board,” Alex called from the dock.

  She gave him a quick wave, then turned back to Beth. “I’m so sorry things are difficult, but you know God can work miracles. Let’s agree to pray that He provides one for you very soon. I’ll try to write, although I’m going deep into the remotest part of the territory, and I don’t know how easily I can send or receive mail. Nevertheless, you’ll be in my prayers.”

  Beth nodded, and her eyes again filled with tears. “Thank you.”

  The look of regret on her face was almost more than Mercy could bear. She choked back her own tears and hurried toward the dock. Alex looked at her oddly but said nothing. Instead he offered her his arm and helped her onto the boat.

  Mercy stood at the rail and watched as Beth continued along the road that followed the river. She wished so much that things could be different for her friend.

  “Are you all right?” Alex asked, coming to join her at the rail.

  “I am, but she’s not.” Mercy shook her head. “I tried to tell her five years ago that marrying Toby Masterson was a mistake. Now, with three children and another soon to join the family, she’s starting to realize the truth of it.” She turned to face him. “Oh, Alex, it’s such a mess. She’s so sad and . . . she says that Toby doesn’t love her. I knew he didn’t when he proposed, but I hoped he’d come to love her.”

  Alex put his arm arou
nd her shoulders. “You can’t let yourself get in the middle of it, Mercy. God has joined them for better or worse. When folks try to meddle in that, it only causes more problems.”

  “I know, and I don’t intend to meddle. Obviously I’ll be far from here and won’t even know what’s happening, but I feel terrible for her.”

  “You tried to warn her, and she made her choice.”

  Mercy stepped out of Alex’s embrace and turned to face him. “Yes, but maybe if I’d told her the day they announced their engagement that Toby had proposed to me just the night before . . . well, maybe she wouldn’t have gone through with it. I said nothing because I didn’t want to sound petty, but now I wish I had.”

  Alex smiled. “You have no way of knowing that would have made it better. Put it in God’s hands, Mercy. He’s the only one who can make things right.”

  She nodded and looked back at the shoreline as the boat began to steam down the river. Beth had disappeared from sight, leaving Mercy feeling a terrible sense of void.

  Please, Lord, please help her. She’s so miserable. Please give her strength to endure and make Toby realize her value. Help him to love her.

  They transferred to an oceangoing vessel a week later. Mercy had always wondered what it might be like to travel on the ocean, and now that she was actually aboard, she found it even more delightful than what she’d imagined.

  As they sat down to dinner that first night at sea, Mercy marveled that the dining room was as finely appointed as any restaurant back east might have been.

  “You look completely enraptured,” Alex teased.

  Mercy laughed. “I am. I find this to be such a surprise and delight. Just look at this—fine linen napkins and tablecloth, beautiful china and silver. And look at the chandeliers! I feel like a queen.”

  “It reminds me of a place in New Orleans that was a favorite of my parents,” Alex replied. “Hopefully the food here will be just as good.”

  Other travelers soon joined them at the table, and before long, the meal was served and conversation filled the air. Mercy sampled the appetizer—grilled clams in a ginger-lemon sauce—as the men across from her shared the latest news.

 

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