Cherished Mercy

by Tracie Peterson

  She shook her head and started to collapse. Mercy barely caught her. “Mr. Caxton, please help me.”

  He dropped his hat and came immediately to her side. He lifted Eletta in his arms and followed Mercy into the house. She led him to the bedroom. “Put her on the bed.”

  He did as instructed, then stood back as if to receive his next command.

  “Thank you. Now please take Isaac’s body to the church and go. Just go, before there’s any trouble,” Mercy said.

  “There won’t be trouble unless the Indians start it,” Billy countered. “I don’t know why you care so much about them, especially now. Those heathens don’t care nothing about you and yours. You need to understand that we’re at war, ’cause the Tututni sure enough know it.”

  Mercy had forgotten about Faith. The little girl stood with wide eyes, biting her lower lip. “Faith, go stay with your mother. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  She pushed Billy toward the open door and outside. Once they were out of the house, Mercy turned on him. “That child has just lost her father, and my friend has lost her husband. I don’t need your commentary on how bad the Indians are or a reminder of the fighting going on. What I need is for you to go before you create some sort of conflict where one doesn’t exist. These people are peaceful, although they might cease to be if they think you had anything to do with killing their friend.”

  Billy’s eyes widened before he bent to pick his hat up off the ground. When he looked back up, he was scowling. “I do a good deed and get accused of causing trouble. How’s that for a thank-you?”

  “I do thank you for your help, but we both know it won’t help for you to remain here accusing the Tututni of killing Isaac. Please just go.”

  Billy shrugged. “Fine. We’ll put him in the church and go.”

  Mercy watched as they carried Isaac away. She remained fixed to her spot until Billy and his friend returned, blanket in hand. They said nothing, and she offered nothing in return. It was senseless to prolong their departure. She needed to tend Eletta and Faith and somehow arrange for Isaac’s burial.

  When Billy and his friend disappeared down the riverbank, Mercy turned to go back into the house. The man she knew as Tunchi and several other Tututni dispersed from the trees. No doubt they had been there the entire time.

  “We will prepare the body and bury him,” Tunchi said.

  Mercy looked at his sad face, and then her gaze traveled down his buckskin-clad chest to the knife he wore in his belt. Could he or one of the villagers have killed Isaac?

  “Do you really think Tututni killed him?” she asked, not sure she should even pose the question. If they were responsible, she doubted Tunchi would ever admit it.

  “Brother Isaac was a good man, and the Tututni would do him no harm. Most of the tribes around here accepted him and would not have harmed him.” Tunchi looked toward the river. “That one I do not trust to say the truth.”

  Mercy nodded. She glanced across the grounds to find the rest of the Tututni people coming toward them. She looked at Tunchi. “I have to care for Eletta. She’s not well.”

  “You go now,” he said, nodding. There were tears in his eyes.

  Mercy hurried back to the cabin and reached Eletta’s side just as she started to come to. She looked at Mercy as if hoping she might tell her it was all just a bad dream. Mercy could only shake her head.

  “He can’t be dead. He can’t be,” Eletta said, trying to sit up. She moaned and clutched her swollen abdomen. “No. No. It just can’t be true.”

  Mercy sat on the edge of the bed and forced Eletta to lie back. “You’ve had a tremendous shock. You need to stay in bed.” Glancing to where Faith sat on the floor in the corner, rocking back and forth, Mercy called to her. She took Faith in her arms. “I’m so sorry about your papa.”

  There were tears in the little girl’s eyes. “The Indians wouldn’t hurt him. He loved them. He loved everybody.”

  Mercy nodded. “I know he did.”

  Faith buried her face against Mercy’s neck. She didn’t cry, just clung to her. What could Mercy say to make her feel better? Nothing could undo the horror of what had happened. She remembered how Grace would handle similar matters. She always got people busy doing other things. Then, once the shock was past, she would get them to talk.

  Mercy pulled back and lifted Faith’s chin. “I need you to bring your mother a cup of the tea I made this morning.”

  For a moment she wasn’t sure Faith had heard her, but then the child nodded and walked from the room. Mercy took that opportunity to tell Eletta about her talk with Tunchi.

  “He says they’ll prepare the body and bury him. I know nothing of their customs, but I presume that’s all right with you.”

  Eletta nodded. “They’re good people. They didn’t do this.”

  “I know.” Mercy sat on the bed beside her. “Eletta, as soon as Isaac is buried, I must get you out of here. I’ll take you to Oregon City, and you can stay with Grace and Alex. There’s plenty of room, and I know she’d want it that way.”

  “I don’t think that would work.”

  Mercy’s eyes narrowed. “Why not?

  “I . . . well . . . because of Faith. I mean, it’s not that . . .” She shook her head.

  Leaning close, Mercy whispered, “I know all about Faith. I know she’s Hope’s daughter.”

  “How? I was sure Grace said she never told you.”

  “She didn’t. I overheard her and Hope talking about it when Grace had her first baby. I was just outside the door. I don’t think anyone will refuse you a home because of that.”

  Faith returned, walking with deliberate steps to keep from spilling the tea. When she reached the bed, she stopped and extended the cup. She was so stoic that it worried Mercy.

  “Thank you, sweetheart.” Mercy took the tea and helped Eletta sit up. “You need to drink this now.” She handed her the mug.

  “When is Uncle Adam coming home?” Faith asked.

  Adam. Mercy hadn’t even thought of him. He would return to find his brother dead and family gone. She frowned. “I don’t know. I’ll speak to Tunchi and see about having someone go find him.” She looked at Eletta. “Do you think someone could go after him? Someone from the tribe?” She couldn’t imagine there would be any other choice.

  Eletta took a little more tea, then pushed the cup back toward Mercy. “You can trust them, Mercy. They’re good people, and they know the routes he would have taken. Someone is sure to go.”

  Isaac was laid to rest in Tututni fashion. His body was wrapped in a fine deerskin and then placed in a plank-lined hole. His head faced north, but the significance of this wasn’t known to Mercy. She doubted Isaac would care.

  Eletta was too sick to attend, but Faith and Mercy stood with the Tututni while Tunchi spoke of how Isaac had led him to the Lord a year earlier.

  “I was made in the Lord when Brother Isaac told me how much he loved Jesus. Brother Isaac was a good man. He came to be with us and became like one of us in work and love for our people. We will bear great sorrow with him gone.”

  Mercy could see that most of the people were moved by Isaac’s passing. The women wept, and the men stood fixed with fierce scowls. When Tunchi finished speaking, he looked to Mercy. She stepped forward with Isaac’s Bible and read from John.

  “‘I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.’” She raised her gaze to the Tututni people. “‘Believest thou this?’” She had only intended to read the Scripture and then pray, but something nudged her to stress the meaning of the verse. “Jesus gives life beyond death. Isaac and Eletta believed this. I believe this. Some of you believe it also. Jesus tells us that if we believe in Him and die—we will live. Isaac came here because of his deep love of God, and his desire to share the good news of salvation in Jesus with you. He came to love you all and told me so.”

  She smiled and looked from face
to face. “I have come to care for you as he did. As Eletta and Adam and Faith do. You are a good and kind people, but that isn’t enough. Being good cannot save you. Only Jesus can do that. Jesus came to this earth to save all people who would come to Him. It doesn’t matter the color of your skin or the language you speak. Jesus calls us to repent and turn away from wrongdoing. He cleans our hearts and wipes away our sins when we ask for His forgiveness. You must put your faith in Him—believe in Him. Then, when life ends in this world—as it must—you will live forever with Him in eternity.”

  Mercy closed the Bible. “I’m no preacher, but I know Isaac would have wanted me to share this with you. Let us pray.” She waited until the people had bowed their heads. “Father, we know that You have received Isaac into Your care. He loved You so very much, and he wanted only to bring others to an understanding of the love You have for them. If anyone here today desires that love—let them seek You. Let them put their trust in You—repenting of their sins. Let them believe in You that they might never die.

  “I ask for Your hand to be upon these people. This is a difficult time of pain and death. Not just Isaac’s death, but the deaths of Indians and whites alike as they war against each other. Father, we call upon You, pleading for peace. Guide the people who make decisions for their people. Let all act in wisdom and unselfish consideration. Let them seek You. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”

  She looked up and tucked the Bible to her breast. Faith slipped her hand in Mercy’s. It was icy cold, which matched the day. Tunchi gave her a nod, and Mercy took this as a sign that she and Faith should leave.

  “Are you ready?”

  Faith nodded, still clinging to Mercy.

  They made the walk back to the house in silence. Mercy knew there would be other times for talk, and this solemn event seemed to beg stillness. It wasn’t going to be easy for Faith and Eletta without Isaac, and Mercy could only hope and pray that Adam returned soon.

  When they entered the cabin, Mercy led Faith to the fire. “Don’t worry about taking off your coat just yet. Warm up a bit, and I’ll go check on your mama.”

  Faith pulled up a little stool and sat right in front of the blaze with her hands extended. Mercy drew a deep breath and went to see Eletta.

  She was ashen-faced but awake—awaiting Mercy’s return. “Is it finished?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

  Mercy nodded and sat beside her. “It was a fine funeral. The people were clearly moved. They loved Isaac a great deal.”

  Eletta nodded. Tears streamed down her face. “They did. They would never have hurt him.”

  “I know. I don’t know who did this, but I know it wasn’t any of our people.”

  Eletta gave a hint of a smile. “Our people? It’s good to hear that you’ve taken them to your heart as well.”

  Mercy hadn’t realized just how precious the Tututni were to her until that moment. “I’ve come to love them as you do.”

  “In spite of what happened at Whitman’s?”

  “Maybe even because of what happened there.” Mercy pushed back her long dark hair. She’d been so busy that day that she’d only taken the time to pull it back and tie it with a ribbon. Somewhere along the way, her ribbon had come loose and been lost.

  Eletta said nothing, as if expecting Mercy to continue, so she did.

  “I saw that hatred did nothing to resolve the problems between the Cayuse and the whites. Both sides acted out of fear, just as they do now. I wish the men running this campaign of hate could see that. Maybe if they understood that, things could become peaceful again.”

  “It’s also happening because of greed,” Eletta countered. “The white man has come west and found the land plentiful and fertile. He wants it for himself, and rather than live in harmony with those already here, he deems it better to rid himself of those people altogether.”

  Mercy nodded. “I don’t see it changing anytime soon.”

  Eletta gave a weak shake of her head. “No.”

  Adam felt a growing sense of dread. He had trudged all over the mountain paths to speak to the various tribes still in the area. Snow had made travel difficult, but so too had the growing anger among the Indian people. Often they avoided him altogether, while other times they approached him in a threatening manner. He felt as though he’d failed on his mission—failed Isaac and God.

  He sat by his small fire and stared at the flames. As usual, Mercy was at the forefront of his thoughts.

  “I mustn’t care for her. It will only end in sorrow as it did in Boston. I can’t expect her to overlook who I am—can I?” he said as if expecting some sort of reply. “Lizzy couldn’t overlook it. Her family was appalled and treated me no better than . . .”

  He looked around and thought of the various tribes he’d tried to speak with. The tall firs and pines created an arbor overhead, but still the snow managed to slip through the branches to dust the ground.

  Expecting Mercy to overlook his heritage, after all she’d endured at the hands of the Cayuse, seemed to hope for too much. She had come to care for the Tututni people, but that didn’t mean she would ever consent to marry a man of native blood.

  “What do I do now?”

  It was time to head home. He knew that, but he didn’t know how to deal with his feelings for Mercy. She was beautiful—kind and gentle. She worked with the Tututni children as if she’d been born to it.

  He remembered his earlier fears that Mercy would be flirty and silly. She was anything but. Nor was she one to shrink from hard work. There had been absolutely no basis for his worries at all. She was the most remarkable woman he’d ever known.

  “And I love her.”

  Speaking the words aloud only darkened his mood. The situation was impossible.

  The sound of something or someone moving in the woods drew his attention. Adam got up slowly and looked around. He had a rifle in order to ward off animals or show his ability to protect himself should thieves or worse approach.

  “You might as well join me at the fire,” he called out.

  A reply came back in Tututni. “You have good ears for a white man.”

  Adam smiled and sat back down as one of the men from the mission emerged from the trees. He crossed to where Adam sat and joined him.

  “Were you trying to find me, Joseph?”

  The Tututni man nodded. “There’s been great sorrow in the village.”

  Adam steeled himself for the worst. Eletta had been quite ill. Had she died? Had the village been attacked by the militia? Was Mercy all right?

  “Tell me.”

  “Brother Isaac—your brother was killed.”

  “What!” Adam hadn’t meant to shout. “That can’t be.” He couldn’t believe that he’d heard correctly. “Isaac?”

  Joseph nodded. “He was shot three times in the back with arrows. A couple white men brought him back to the village.”

  “Where had he gone?”

  “To make peace with the soldiers for our village. There’s been much trouble along the river. Brother Isaac talked with some soldiers, and they said war was coming. He wanted to talk to the chiefs in the army.”

  Adam felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach. He could scarcely draw breath at the thought of his brother being slain.

  “And what of the others? Sister Eletta and Sister Mercy? Faith?”

  “They are well but filled with sorrow and fear. Sister Mercy asked that someone come to find you. She said Sister Eletta is sick and needs to be taken away.”

  Adam nodded. “We’ll leave at first light.”

  Chapter

  12

  When is Adam coming home?” Faith asked as Mercy added logs to the fireplace.

  It was a question Mercy had been asking herself for days. “I wish I knew.”

  It had been weeks since she’d sent one of the Tututni men to search for Adam, and so far there had been no word. Worse yet, the militia and army had been up and down the river, making threats and causing the local tribes to panic. The
re had been reports of mass murder and entire villages burned to the ground, and Mercy had no doubt they were true.

  The Tututni were planning to leave the mission and head high into the mountains, where the government would have a harder time reaching them. Isaac’s death had left the leaders certain that it was no longer safe for their people. Already most of the families had departed. The people remaining were the elderly and a few women with young children. Two younger men remained behind to act as guards, but their presence was far from a guarantee of safety.

  The fire in the hearth caught and began to grow, warding off the damp cold. Mercy held her hands toward the flames, and Faith came alongside her to do likewise. She leaned her body against Mercy’s.

  “Do you think Adam will come back before all the Tututni leave?” Faith looked up at Mercy as if she knew all the answers.

  “I hope so.” Her thoughts had been overwhelmed with concerns about what they would do if the Indians deserted them altogether.

  “I hate that my friends have gone. Except Mary, of course,” Faith said as she wrapped her arm around Mercy’s waist. “Everything is different now. Papa is gone, and Mama is so sick.”

  Mercy gave her shoulder a squeeze. “I know, and I’m no happier about it than you are. Still, we need to trust that Adam will return soon and that God will guide us in whatever way He wants to take us.”

  Faith sighed but said nothing more. There was nothing more to be said.

  Mercy tried to sort through her thoughts, allowing for all the possibilities that might occur. If Adam didn’t return and the Tututni departed, she would have to ask the volunteer militiamen or the army regulars to get her, Eletta, and Faith to Gold Beach. Since most of the Indians had headed into the mountains on foot, there were canoes available, but Mercy wasn’t sure she could command one of the boats by herself. But if the army wouldn’t help her, she had already decided she would take Eletta and Faith downriver anyway. Her prayer was that it wouldn’t become necessary.

  “What say we get some oatmeal cooking for breakfast?” Mercy forced a smile and tried to focus on the present rather than worry about the future. “Maybe Adam will come home today.”