When the truth came out in the most damaging way possible—implying that Adam had been working to deceive everyone—Adam didn’t even get a chance to say good-bye or explain himself to Lizzy. Marcus and his father had come to Adam’s residence and told him in no uncertain terms that the engagement was over. He had misrepresented himself as a white man and shamed Lizzy, who at that moment was being whisked off to rest at some secluded spa. People he had thought of as good friends turned away. Adam could still remember the accusing looks in their eyes. Thankfully he’d already graduated from university, because otherwise he might have been thrown out of those hallowed halls just as he had been every proper Boston parlor.
Even the church position had been withdrawn. It seemed Boston was not yet ready to hear the gospel preached by an Indian. Adam had reminded himself that it wasn’t all that many years earlier that white men of God argued heartily about whether or not a man of red skin could even be saved.
Adam closed the book of mathematics he’d been using to teach the older children and leaned his chin against the top of it. How could people be so heartless—so narrow-minded? His mother had suffered greatly. His father too. No one understood a man taking a heathen for a wife when there were so many available white women of virtue.
He and Isaac and their sisters had lived with ridicule and alienation all of their youth, but God had been good. His sisters had eventually married upstanding, successful men who didn’t care about their quarter Cherokee blood. Isaac, too, had married a woman not so different from Lizzy. Eletta had blue eyes and blond hair, and yet the fact that her husband’s mother was a half-breed never caused her affection to waver.
Tossing the book aside, Adam got to his feet. It was nearly time for the game he’d promised the older boys. There was no sense in brooding. It wouldn’t change a thing about the past, but it did strengthen his resolve toward the future. He wasn’t going to lose his heart to another white woman. Not even one with eyes the color of an early morning sky.
“Adam!” five boys called out in unison when he emerged from the school.
He smiled, forcing the painful thoughts from his mind. “Are you ready for our game?”
“Yes. We set the goals,” the tallest of the boys declared.
“Very good, Samuel.”
Adam looked toward the open area where they often played rousing games of shinny. Two sticks had been driven into the ground on either end of the clearing.
“Here’s your stick,” eleven-year-old John said.
Adam took the slightly curved stick. “Which team am I on?”
“Ours,” John quickly replied. “You’re with me and David.”
Adam nodded and followed the boys to the center of the field. The goal was to work a ball made of deerskin down the field and past the goal post of the other team.
Standing opposite twelve-year-old Samuel, Adam gave a nod. “Ready—set—go!”
The ball flew into play, and the game was afoot. They raced back and forth from one side of the clearing to the other—each team doing their best to either make a goal or prevent one.
The physical exertion was just the thing to take Adam’s mind off his trouble. Not only that, but he enjoyed the camaraderie he had with the boys. Here he wasn’t their teacher, just another player.
The ball shot across the clearing from John to Adam. Without hesitation, Adam worked his way down the field, scooting the ball back and forth with his stick. He was nearly in line to make a goal when Samuel charged in and stole the ball away, and everyone whirled around to head in the opposite direction.
To one side of the field, Adam spied Mercy taking a seat on a log. She wore not only her wool coat, but also a heavy blanket wrapped around her in Indian fashion. He smiled to himself. She had surprised him with her ease toward the native people. Isaac had told him about her ordeal at the Whitman Mission, and he’d been stunned to hear she was one of the victims. It was even more amazing that she would come to an Indian village after what she’d endured.
Despite his resolve to have nothing to do with her, Adam couldn’t help but admire her fortitude. He would have liked to ask her about her life among the Cayuse, but to do so would require an intimacy he wasn’t yet ready to give.
The game continued down one side of the clearing and up the other. Adam’s team got the first goal, and then Samuel’s team got the next two. They would play until one team reached five goals.
“Come on, Adam!” David yelled as the ball once again passed to him.
Adam quickly glanced at Mercy, who seemed to be daydreaming. He found himself wishing she would watch him, then chided himself for such thinking. Even so, his heart reminded him that he was still a man who liked capturing the attention of a pretty girl.
He made a goal, much to David and John’s delight. “Now we’re tied,” John declared.
Adam was curious what Mercy thought of the game. Had she ever seen shinny played before? He knew the boys had invited her to watch, but he wondered if she realized he’d be playing too. The women had their own version of the game, so perhaps Mercy would learn to play it with the girls.
Samuel shot past him, and Adam realized he hadn’t been paying attention. When Samuel made a third goal for his team, John and David chided Adam for not stopping the ball. He resolved to put Mercy from his mind and focus on the game, but it wasn’t easy.
It was when they were tied at four goals apiece that the boys grew intense in their focus. Competitions were encouraged in the tribe. The boys were always trying to best each other. They would soon become men and take on the responsibility of becoming leaders, husbands, and fathers. Of course, with the government determined to move the Indians away from their land, Adam wondered what it would mean for these precious young men.
Again he was lost in his thoughts when he saw the ball go flying in the direction of Mercy. She wasn’t paying attention to the game, apparently finding something on the ground of interest. If she had been watching, she would have seen the collection of boys charging her way.
Adam had to act fast. With long strides, he flanked the boys and reached her just moments before they did. Without thinking, Adam threw himself across Mercy, pulling her backwards off the log and to safety.
When they stopped rolling, she lay atop him, staring down at him wide-eyed and open-mouthed. For a moment neither of them moved. They might have stayed that way in stunned silence, but the group of boys were shouting and laughing at what had just happened.
Mercy bit her lower lip and lay motionless with her head lifted and her hands on Alex’s shoulders. Then all at once she seemed to realize what had happened, and a look of horror crossed her face. She attempted to jump up, but her foot caught in her blanket, and she plunged back down onto Adam, nearly knocking the wind out of him.
“Oh! Oh my!” she declared, pressing into his abdomen to boost herself up.
“Oof.” Adam couldn’t contain the groan that came from her pressure on his midsection. The moan made Mercy stop as she reclaimed her feet. She looked down at him.
“I’m—I’m sorry.” She cast a quick glance around her. Looking back at Adam, she frowned. “Why did you do that?”
Adam sat up, shaking his head. “You weren’t paying attention, and I didn’t want the boys to crash into you.” He got up and tried to wipe the mud and dirt from his pants.
By now the younger children who’d been watching the game from across the field had joined them and were laughing at their teachers’ antics.
Mercy’s face flushed red. She looked from the children back to Adam. Her mouth opened and closed several times, but not a single sound came from her. Adam could see that she was embarrassed. He smiled, hoping to ease the tension. “No need to thank me.”
This seemed to snap her out of it. “I wasn’t going to,” she declared and whirled around to leave.
For some reason, her response caused Adam to laugh out loud. She turned back and looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. The children joined in his laughter, which
only made the matter worse.
Without another word, Mercy stomped off toward the house.
Chapter
8
Mercy hurried into the house, mortified by what had just happened. She hadn’t been paying attention, just as Adam had said. One minute she was lost in thought about how happy and carefree he looked out there with his students—wondering why he never looked that way around her. Then, without warning, the next instant she was in his arms, rolling across the ground.
She entered the house and slammed the door behind her without meaning to.
Eletta looked up from her sewing with a puzzled expression. Cocking her head to one side, she asked, “Are you all right? Is something wrong?”
Mercy glanced down at the muddy blanket still wrapped around her. “I . . . ah, there was a little accident.”
“What happened?”
Faith came dancing into the house, giggling. “Oh, Mama, you should have seen what happened to Uncle Adam and Mercy. The boys were running at her, and Uncle Adam saved her life!”
Eletta shook her head and fixed her gaze on Mercy. “What?”
Mercy swallowed the lump in her throat. “I was watching the shinny game, and I got lost in my thoughts and wasn’t paying attention. The boys sent the ball my way, and I was nearly overrun by them. Instead, I was knocked out of the way by Adam, who was gallantly trying to save me.” Why did his first act of kindness toward her have to be such an embarrassing one?
Hearing herself tell the story, Mercy began to feel bad for the way she’d acted toward Adam. He had probably saved her from being hit by one of the sticks, and the way those boys could swing, she might have truly been hurt.
“It was so funny, Mama. They were rolling and rolling on the ground.”
Mercy shook her head. “There wasn’t that much rolling, Faith.” She looked at Eletta, who was smiling. “It was just enough to be humiliating.”
“Oh, nonsense. Things like that are bound to happen. I’m just glad no one got hurt.”
“I hope no one did.” Mercy frowned as she remembered Adam’s groan. “I wasn’t too gentle in trying to get to my feet.”
“Faith, why don’t you get out the washtub so Mercy can put her dress in to soak after she changes?”
The little girl nodded and skipped off to collect the tub.
Mercy looked down at her skirt. It was wet and muddy. The blanket was no better.
Eletta smiled. “Go get out of those wet, dirty clothes. Hang up your coat and blanket, and we’ll brush them clean after they dry. You’ll feel less embarrassed once that’s settled.”
Mercy did as Eletta instructed and hung her coat and blanket on hooks by the door. She then went to the room she shared with Faith and began to unbutton her dress. She couldn’t help but think of Adam’s arms around her. Her heartbeat picked up speed, leaving her feeling flushed all over again. A tingle ran down her spine. It was like a strange sort of madness that she couldn’t shake. What in the world was wrong with her?
That evening, Eletta retired early, and Mercy made her way to Red Deer’s lodge. Isaac, Adam, and the Tututni men were meeting in the sweathouse, and it seemed like the perfect opportunity to see the inside of a Tututni house.
Since the houses were built partially underground, Red Deer gave Mercy instructions when she arrived. “There is a pole with steps carved into it just inside the door. Climb down with care.” She slid back the wooden door.
Mercy had to duck to crawl through the opening and into the plank house. Just as Red Deer had said, a notched pole took her down several feet to the floor of the house. She paused at the bottom and waited for Red Deer to join her.
“Mercy!” Faith declared from where she played with Red Deer’s daughter Mary. “Were you looking for me?”
“No, I’ve come to see how the Tututni live.” Mercy turned to Red Deer. “It’s quite snug in here.”
She glanced around the large open room. The floors were hard-packed dirt, and the roof was slightly peaked. There was a fire pit in the center of the room with a pot sitting right on the burning logs. In the ceiling overhead was a hole for the smoke to exit, but the room still held a bit of haze. Eletta had told Mercy that the pieces of the rafters could be removed to allow in more light and air during pleasant days.
Tule mats were rolled and stowed atop a long bench that ran the entire length of the rectangular house. Opposite this was another long bench.
“We have places inside the seats where we can store food and our . . .” Red Deer paused to ponder the right word. “Property. We put our property there.” She lifted up one of the top boards of the bench. Inside were several articles of clothing neatly stacked. It looked very efficient.
Red Deer replaced the board and led Mercy to the far side of the room. Hanging from the ceiling in the corner of the house were bunches of dried herbs, most of which Mercy recognized. There were also baskets hanging from the walls.
“We keep some of our food stores in these baskets. This one has dried meal made from acorns,” Red Deer said, pointing. “We hang herbs to dry and sometimes hang other things here as well. In the other corner is a storage pit that will keep things cold. Some of the salmon is kept there, but most of it is smoked and stored in the baskets.”
“It’s all so neat and orderly. I think it’s a very fine house.” Mercy looked around and noted that in several areas, deerskins acted as rugs. “It would seem you’re well set for the winter.”
Red Deer bent over and opened one of the basket lids. “You can try this.” She took a piece of something from the basket and handed it to Mercy.
Mercy wasn’t at all sure what it was. The rounded ball was slightly sticky and a sort of purplish gray. She held it to her nose and sniffed it. It smelled of berries.
“Taste it,” Red Deer encouraged. “It’s sweet.”
Without further hesitation, Mercy sampled the treat. It wasn’t all that appealing, but she forced a smile and nodded. “Thank you.”
Red Deer smiled. “It is made with deer fat and dried berries and acorn. My children want to eat it all the time, but we save it for special occasions.”
Mercy nodded and slipped the rest of the berry ball into her pocket. She remembered the shortbread she’d made with Mrs. Hull and wondered if the Tututni might like it.
“Come see over here,” Faith said. “This is where we make baskets.” She took Mercy by the hand and led her to an area where several sizes of baskets were in various stages of creation. Mats were stretched out on the ground for whoever might gather to work.
“This one is for collecting food,” Faith said, holding up a medium-sized basket of woven hazel branches and dried grass. She quickly set it aside and picked up a much smaller piece. “And this one is going to be for my own hat.”
The bowl-shaped creation had a long way to go before it was finished, but the tight weave impressed Mercy.
“They’re beautiful. I can’t imagine how much work must go into each one.”
Faith smiled. “You can come and learn. Red Deer’s very good at teaching us.”
Mercy nodded and reached out to touch the crown of the hat. “I’d like that.”
Red Deer joined them and lifted one of the planks from the bench. She reached inside and drew out a piece of finely tanned deer skin. “This is going to be a dress for Mary.”
“It’s so soft.” Mercy rubbed her fingers along the leather. “I’m sure it will make a beautiful dress.”
Red Deer smiled proudly. “I will teach you to make one.”
“I have so much to learn, but I’m a good student.” Knowing the hour was probably getting late, Mercy decided to excuse herself. “I should go. Thank you so much for showing me your house.”
Red Deer beamed. “You will come back and let me teach you to make baskets?”
“I will.” Mercy looked at Faith. Tomorrow was Saturday, and Eletta had mentioned that Faith often liked to sleep over with Mary. “Are you staying here tonight, Faith?”
Faith sho
ok her head. “No. Papa told me to come home. I’ll go with you.” She gave Mary a hug and jumped to her feet, stopping to give Red Deer a hug as well before taking Mercy’s hand. “I’m ready.”
Mercy smiled and followed Faith to the notched pole leading to the door. The child scooted up the pole as if she’d been doing it all her life. It dawned on Mercy that she probably had.
Such a lifestyle wasn’t designed with long dresses in mind, however, and Mercy went much slower. She gathered her skirts in one hand and held on to the pole with the other. She crawled awkwardly out the door and was surprised to find Adam there waiting. He helped her to her feet then quickly let her go.
“Isaac sent me to bring you both home,” he explained.
Faith wrapped herself around Adam, and Mercy smiled when he lifted the girl into the air and tossed her. Faith squealed in delight and cried for more. Adam tossed her up and down several times before finally putting her back on the ground.
“You’re getting too big for this,” he said, rubbing his arms.
Faith giggled. “You’re strong, Uncle Adam. You’re so strong that you could throw Mercy in the air and catch her too.”
Mercy felt her face grow hot and was grateful for the twilight and shadows. She longed to change the subject. “Faith, you need to help me brush out the blanket before we go to bed. The mud should have dried by now.” She started walking toward the house, and Faith shot past her.
“I’ll get the cleaning brush!” Faith ran across the clearing, heading for the house.
Mercy started after her, hoping Adam would say nothing more. She’d only managed a few steps, however, before he called after her.
“I want to apologize if I offended you.”
She stopped and did her best to ignore her guilt. Drawing a deep breath, she turned. “You didn’t. I’m afraid I was less than grateful, and for that I apologize.”
Cherished Mercy Page 8
