Cherished Mercy

by Tracie Peterson

  “Word came down last night that the Puget Sound Indians have gone to war,” one of the men said as he dug into his food. He was not at all afraid to speak while chewing.

  “It’s true,” the other replied. “There’s a hunt on for the Nisqually Indian leader Leschi. I know little else, but there’s been trouble up there for some time.”

  His companion nodded. “That’s because the government has put its foot down and is rounding up the tribes to put them on a reservation where they won’t cause any more problems. I say keep their women and men separate and don’t allow any more heathens to be born.”

  “Maybe their children should be taken and raised elsewhere. They need to be taught white ways, not Indian ways. Otherwise this problem is never going to end.”

  Mercy nearly choked on her tea. She coughed as quietly as she could into her napkin, but no one seemed to care. Except Alex.

  “Perhaps there is a better time and place for such discussions,” Alex said, nodding toward Mercy. “This is hardly a conversation for mixed company.”

  The men didn’t seem to notice. “It would seem we’re surrounded by warring tribes. That’s one of the reasons I’m heading to San Francisco. It’s booming, and with the large influx of people since the gold rush began, there’s no thought of Indian troubles.”

  “Once the government gets enough militia on the payroll, they’ll nip the problem soon enough.”

  The older of the two men wiped sauce from his beard and nodded. “With the drought in the south-central part of the territory, they’ll have little trouble recruiting down-on-their-luck miners.”

  “That area is certainly suffering from the Rogue River Indians. They’re fighting up and down the river.”

  Mercy saw Alex’s eyes narrow. “Gentlemen, I tried to ask nicely, but now I’m going to tell you outright. This isn’t the kind of conversation I want my sister-in-law to have to endure. Please refrain from discussion on this matter until you’re in the smoking cabin.”

  The waiter appeared with the next course, a creamed soup with a heavenly aroma. He placed a bowl in front of Mercy and then Alex, while another waiter on the opposite side of the table serviced the stunned gentlemen.

  “We meant no harm,” one of the men said as the waiters departed. He had the decency to appear embarrassed. “We’re very sorry, Miss.”

  The older man nodded at her. “We didn’t mean to offend.”

  Mercy gave a slight nod in return and focused on her dinner, although she’d lost her appetite despite the inviting appearance and scent of the soup.

  Maybe I’ve made a terrible mistake. Maybe I shouldn’t go to the mission. Perhaps we could just remain on the ship and send word to Isaac. But even as she considered all of this, Mercy knew she couldn’t refuse Eletta’s cry for help.

  She continued to consider all that she’d heard as she picked at her dinner. When Alex was finally finished, she put her napkin aside as well and rose from the table without a word. They said nothing as they made their way back to their cabin, but once they were behind closed doors, Alex asked Mercy to sit.

  “I think it’s best we talk about this. I have no idea what is truth and what’s exaggeration regarding the Indian wars, but you and I both know there’s been ongoing trouble, and so long as the government is bent on this campaign of exterminating the Indians, there’s going to continue to be trouble.”

  “It’s not just going to go away, I know that.” Mercy picked at some lint on her skirt. “But I also know Grace and Hope will be worried sick when news reaches them. Even so, Alex, I don’t feel it’s right to abandon Eletta. She has Faith to worry about, and Isaac can’t be both there and out trying to minister to the Indians. Of course, that’s probably a moot point if things are truly as bad as those men say.”

  Alex pulled out his bag and opened it. “I was going to wait until we reached Port Orford, but Hope wanted you to have this.” He produced Hope’s Colt pocket revolver.

  Mercy looked at the gun for a moment. “I don’t know if I could ever shoot someone, even if they were attacking me.”

  He smiled. “I told Hope and Grace the same thing. We all know how tenderhearted you are. Still, it might be enough to scare off an attacker. In the worst situation, you could always aim to wound them so that you could get away. You do know how to handle it, right? Hope said she’d taught you.”

  “She did, and I know well enough. I still don’t know that I want to take it.”

  “It would give your sisters considerable peace of mind if you would. It’s one of those things you might never need, but if the situation is bad and you do need it . . . well, I think you’ll be glad Hope thought of it.”

  Mercy tried to imagine herself in a situation where she might need the revolver. She knew she’d rather die than kill someone or even wound them.

  “I’ll take it, but I don’t foresee myself using it.” She took the revolver and felt the heaviness of it in her hand. It seemed such a small thing, and yet it could end a man’s life in the blink of an eye. The weight of this thought burdened her. It was a responsibility she wouldn’t take it lightly.

  Chapter

  3

  Isaac, I think you’re making a mistake.” Adam Browning watched his brother closely. They sat together at the table in the mission house. “Bringing a city girl here to help is going to be more trouble than it’s worth.”

  “Mercy is hardly a city girl. She endured the Oregon Trail and a great deal more. It’s true I haven’t seen her since we left Oregon City, but I’m sure she’s capable.”

  Adam ran his fingers through his coal-black hair. “But what if she isn’t? What if she’s all lace and frills? We don’t need that here. None of us have time to watch over her. Besides that, I can’t imagine many white women living comfortably in the midst of the native people. She might come here with all sorts of prejudices and cause our hard work to be completely upended.”

  Isaac looked at him with an amused smile. “You sound mighty worried about this.”

  “I am. Bringing this woman here is bound to spell trouble. She’ll be more work for all of us.”

  “Look, I prayed this through. Eletta needs someone to help her until the baby is born.”

  “But the Tututni women are happy to help. The tribe has been good to Eletta—to all of us.”

  “Yes, but Eletta knows Mercy and her sisters, and it would give her added comfort. Maybe when you have a wife of your own, you’ll understand.”

  Adam frowned and turned his focus back to the slate boards he was cleaning. “I just hope she won’t prove to be silly and scared of her own shadow.”

  Isaac laughed. “I’ve never known any of the Flanagan sisters to be frightened of much, nor were they fussy or ridiculous. Although the middle one, Hope, was flirty and a bit silly when she was young.”

  Adam shook his head. “We especially don’t need flirty.”

  This made Isaac laugh even harder. “Who would she flirt with? You? Maybe that’s what’s got you all bothered about having her here.”

  “I’m not worried about her flirting with me. I just don’t want to be surrounded by silly women. You know as well as I do that this is a hard life.” Adam stood and put the stack of slate boards away. “If she comes here only to find life too difficult, then she’ll fuss and fret until you take her back to her people. We haven’t got time for that.”

  Isaac sobered and pulled on his coat. “I appreciate your concern, Adam, but I assure you that Mercy Flanagan won’t fuss and fret. Besides, we don’t even know if she’ll be able to come. By now she could have gone and gotten herself married. News travels slow around here.” He opened the door. “I’ll be gone for at least two weeks. I know you understand what’s needed while I’m away, but I want to show you a couple of projects we need to address before the cold sets in.”

  Adam nodded and took up his own coat. “I know there’s plenty to tend to.”

  Isaac was talking about the tasks they would need to accomplish, but Adam’s mind
was on the young woman who might join them soon. He didn’t know why the idea struck him as such a bad one. Usually he trusted his older brother’s decision making, but this time Adam couldn’t help but feel concerned. Life at the mission was a hard but good life if you didn’t mind its more primitive setting. Even he had found adjusting to the isolation a little difficult. Coming from back east, where towns were plentiful and well supplied, life on the Rogue River had been a rude awakening. Here, no matter what you needed, you had to make, grow, or find it for yourself. Supplies could be had, of course, but they had to be ordered well in advance and then picked up downriver on the coast. He couldn’t imagine most women being content without stores and conveniences to make their lives easier. Mercy Flanagan would find her work cut out for her here, and Adam hated to think of what would happen if she proved to be too weak or ill-tempered to be useful.

  He sighed and shook his head. He just had a feeling that this Flanagan woman was going to cause a great deal of upheaval. As far as he was concerned, she already had, and she hadn’t even arrived.

  Mercy hadn’t known what to expect of Port Orford. As the only main port between Astoria and San Francisco, she had imagined it to be larger than most coastal towns. Instead she found a series of docks and a small number of buildings that constituted the “town.” Beyond this were numerous houses and tents, but overall the place was rather disappointing . . . and very dirty.

  But it’s better than being on the ship.

  The weather had turned stormy, and their last day at sea had left her feeling queasy. Thankfully the seas had calmed and the winds died down just long enough for them to make their destination, but already the weather was worsening, with a cold steady rain soaking them to the skin.

  “Looks like the customs office is this way,” Alex said, raising his voice as the wind began to blow.

  Mercy nodded and bent her head toward the ground. She kept her eyes on the back of Alex’s boots to avoid rain blowing in her face. The building was close to the dock as expected, but not near enough that they could avoid being soaked clear through by the time they reached it. Mercy was thankful for the refuge and was even more grateful when the man in charge led her to the stove so she could warm up and dry out.

  “We’re looking for Isaac Browning,” she heard Alex tell the customs agent as she held her wet gloved hands toward the stove.

  “He’s been here several times today,” the man replied. “I expect him back almost anytime.” He paused and pointed out the window. “In fact, here he comes now.”

  Isaac was just as Mercy remembered him, albeit a little older. He was tall and muscular with broad shoulders, but it was his kind face that she remembered most. His was a gentle, welcoming expression that had always made her feel at ease. She smiled when he came to greet her.

  “I’m so glad you’ve come,” he said. “I heard from some of the volunteer militia that the ship was due in. I’m surprised you made such good time, what with the storm.”

  “I think it actually got us here faster,” Alex said with a smile. He shook the water off his hat. “It was a rough passage this past twenty-four hours, and we weren’t even sure we could make it into port.”

  “Well, you’re on solid ground now. I was going to arrange for my people to canoe us to Ellensburg, but the seas have been rough for weeks.”

  Mercy was intrigued. “You have canoes capable of ocean travel?”

  “Indeed, Miss Mercy. Long canoes created exactly for that purpose.” Isaac paused and shook his head. “Goodness, but just look at you all grown up. You were just a little girl when I saw you last.”

  “It has been several years.” Mercy felt chilled to the bone, and the stove was doing little to warm her up.

  “We’d best get out of here. No sense drying out only to get drenched again.” Isaac went to the door where the customs agent was speaking to one of the dock workers. “Would you please have their things delivered to the Hulls’ right away?”

  Both men confirmed this request, and Isaac led Mercy and Alex out into the rain.

  “We have a regular army fort, of sorts,” Isaac told them, pointing across the small group of buildings. “The Third Artillery are here to keep peace. There’s also some Dragoons stationed here, and of course the civilian militia. Every miner who failed to strike it rich has joined up. Big money has been promised to any white man willing to slaughter Indians. Apparently the government is paying for murder now.”

  “What of the danger, Isaac?” Alex asked.

  He shrugged. “The entire territory is in danger of attack. Nothing new about that, as you well know. If you’re asking about the dangers for Mercy, I’d say they’re minimal. Our people are loyal to us. It’s not like things were at the Whitman Mission.”

  “That was exactly my concern,” Alex said, sounding worried.

  Isaac continued. “We’ve been here long enough to prove to them our support and truthfulness. I have no concern there. Some of the other area tribes are questionable, as they’re known to war amongst themselves, but given the pressure put on them by the government, many have fled deeper into the mountains.”

  “You said other tribes.” Mercy held the brim of her bonnet as the wind picked up. “I thought they were all Rogue River Indians.”

  “That’s just a name given them by the whites. They call them Rogues or even Rascals. In truth, there are several tribes represented in the group called the Rogue River Indians. There are Shasta, Tututni, Takelma, Coquille, and Tolowa just to name a few, and within those tribes are subsets. The government finds it easier to just call them all Rogues.”

  “And what of your people?” Mercy lost her footing in the mud, but Alex righted her before she could fall. She smiled her thanks, and Alex gave a nod and smile in return. Isaac didn’t seem to notice that anything was amiss and continued talking.

  “Our people are the Tututni, with a few women from other tribes having married into their number. They treat us with great affection. Of course, that didn’t come about overnight.”

  Alex looked skeptical. “Still, there’s a lot of fighting going on, the way we’ve heard it.”

  “There is, but the reason I don’t think Mercy will be in much danger is twofold. One, the worst attacks and killings are being done by the whites. No white man is going to harm a white woman, even in a mission setting where she’s working with the Indians. And second, the area soldiers and militia know our people are peaceful, so there’s no need for attack. Even with the tribal roundup, the officials have allowed our people to stay put. Eventually they’ll force them to go north to the reservation as well, but for now they’re leaving us alone.

  “Not only that, but the really bad fighting is taking place on the other side of the mountains. That’s where the army really started the roundup. There’s a reservation there called Table Rock, but as I understand it, there’s been nothing but difficulty in keeping the peace. Even so, the army makes regular treks upriver and throughout our area. So I’m not overly concerned about our safety.”

  Mercy took in this information and considered the days to come. Having overheard more than one conversation on the ship, she knew that the government leaders were set on containing the Indians so the whites could spread out and take over the land wherever they pleased.

  “What about getting back to your mission?” Alex asked, bringing Mercy’s attention back to the conversation. “Aren’t the dangers increased if you travel by land?”

  “I’ve arranged for us to go south with the army. We’ll travel under heavy protection and large numbers, so I doubt there will be any danger. Alex, honestly, I wouldn’t have agreed for Mercy to come had I thought there would be any real threat to her well-being. The government claims to have this situation all but wrapped up. They tell us that by spring, all of the tribes will be en route north. Eletta and I plan to go north as well. We intend to minister on the reservation. We can bring Mercy with us and arrange to get her home from there.”

  Alex looked around the tiny t
own. “I don’t suppose there’s a decent hotel here.”

  Isaac smiled for the first time. “I have something better. Friends who own a store and live on the backside of it. They have a couple cozy rooms over the store they’ve set up for guests. Seems someone is always coming or going and needs a room. If you’ll follow me, I’ll introduce you.”

  Sadie and Ephraim Hull were a generous and lively couple in their fifties. They welcomed Mercy and Alex as if they were long-lost relatives and treated them with great affection. Sadie’s first order of business was to get Mercy dry and warm, and for that reason if nothing else, Mercy adored her. Now, an hour after their arrival, Sadie satisfied Mercy’s remaining need by feeding them a hearty supper.

  “Child, you need to eat more than the small bit you took,” Sadie said, ladling more stew into Mercy’s bowl.

  “I’ve had so much already, but it is delicious.” Mercy picked up her spoon again as Sadie turned her attention to Alex.

  Alex made no protest at being given more food. “This is the best I’ve had since starting this trip,” he told Sadie.

  She laughed and gave him a wink. “Don’t you go sweet-talking me. There’s no need. I’ll continue to put food on the table until you’ve had your fill, whether you praise it or not.”

  “It’s her way,” Ephraim said, as if anyone needed an explanation.

  Sadie reclaimed her seat. “Any friend of Isaac’s is a friend of ours.”

  Mercy appreciated the kindness more than she could say, but she was so tired, and the bed that awaited her upstairs was all she could think of.

  “How’s that brother of yours?” Sadie asked Isaac.

  “Adam is doing well. He’s taken to life at the mission as if he were born to it.” Isaac turned to Alex and Mercy. In this setting, he was much more relaxed and lighthearted. “My younger brother Adam joined me a year ago last May. He felt God’s calling to preach the gospel to the various Indian tribes here.”