Cherished Mercy

by Tracie Peterson

  Lord, please help us. Please bring peace and let calmer heads prevail.

  She thought of Tunchi and some of the other men who’d resided at the mission. Would they really kill her? Adam? Faith? Adam and Faith had lived with them for a long time. Faith even longer than her uncle. Could the men be so heartless when Mercy had done all she could, even risked her life to save their women and children when Caxton’s men had attacked?

  At times like this, Mercy supposed the deeds of the past didn’t weigh heavily enough against the chaos of the moment. She hugged Faith close as they reached the north bank of the river. Would they live out another day?

  Chapter

  16

  This is hardly enough to be considered a fort.” Adam looked around in horror. To hear the militia talk, hundreds of Rogue River Indians were about to descend upon them, and all they had for defense was two cabins and an embankment of dirt.

  “We have to build up these levees,” one of the men said. “Grab every pick and shovel available. The rest of you need to position yourselves with your guns.”

  Billy Caxton stood only about three feet from Adam. He turned and looked at him with a scowl of displeasure. “I see you have a rifle, Indian lover. You gonna use it?”

  “Not to kill other human beings.”

  “Those heathens ain’t human,” another man said, passing by. He didn’t wait for a response from Adam.

  Billy nodded with a smirk. “See, no one but you believes them to have souls. I suppose that’s only natural, what with you being a preacher.”

  This brought the attention of Billy’s captain. He joined them and extended his hand to Adam. “They call me Captain Andrews. I’m not in charge here—not by a long shot—but did I hear Billy say you’re a preacher?”

  “I am.” Adam wasn’t at all sure what this meant to the captain. “Why do you ask?”

  “Well, men have died and more are soon to follow. We’ll need a preacher for hearing their confessions and dying words. And for speakin’ over ’em when they get buried.”

  Adam nodded. “I’d be happy to do that. I’ll even dig graves and help with the embankment work. But as I told Billy, I won’t be joining in the killing.”

  The captain frowned as he considered Adam’s comment. “Well, truth be told, Preacher, I wouldn’t expect you to. Bein’ a man of God and all. I know you folks have particular thoughts on how God views such things.”

  “I’m glad you understand.” Adam glanced at Billy. “Some men don’t.”

  “Well, Preacher, I figure you’re going to have your hands full. It would be helpful if you were to let someone use your rifle.” He nodded to the gun Adam wore slung over his shoulder.

  He considered the captain’s request for a moment, then nodded. He had hoped to use the gun to hunt game, but obviously that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

  “I understand why we must make this stand.” Adam looked at Billy. “Now that the tribes have been incited to war, it’s going to be a matter of self-defense. But you have to realize that there may be men out there I know and have broken bread with. I can’t kill them.”

  “No, but I’ll bet they can kill you,” Billy countered. He looked at Adam, just daring him to deny it.

  Instead, Adam gave a slow nod. “They very well may, and if so, then I’ll meet my Maker with a guiltless conscience. Can you say the same, Mr. Caxton?”

  Billy threw back a stream of expletives and turned to go.

  “Just a second there, Billy,” his captain called. “I have a particular job for you.” He looked at Adam. “If you’ll hand over that rifle, Preacher, I’ll be on my way.”

  Adam gave him the weapon and watched as the two soldiers departed. Billy Caxton was a man full of hate, and that made him dangerous.

  Going in search of a shovel or pick, Adam tried not to think about the battle to come. Already they could hear gunfire across the river. They couldn’t see anything yet, but Adam had a feeling the few folks still on the south side were probably dealing with the forward scouts of the Indian warriors.

  He found an old man trying to dig and gave him a smile. “How are you with a rifle?”

  The old man looked up and gave a toothless smile. “Not much better than I am at digging. I’ve spent most of my days on the water. Fell off the mast of a schooner and broke my back a few months ago. They left me here to recover, or so they said. I’m thinking it was more leaving me here to die.”

  Adam smiled. “Well, I’m better at digging than standing watch, so why don’t you give me a turn with that shovel, and you can keep an eye out while I climb the embankment.”

  The old man frowned at him. “I ain’t helpless. I can earn my keep.”

  Adam nodded and took hold of the shovel but didn’t try to pull it away from the man. “I want to do the same, and like I said, you’d probably be better at spotting enemy movement. I don’t want to die while I’m helping fortify this sorry excuse for a fort. I need someone to keep watch and tell me when to duck.” Adam smiled, hoping to put him at ease.

  The old man seemed to consider this for a moment, then let go of the shovel. “I got me a pistol.” He opened his coat to reveal the gun tucked into his waistband. “I suppose I could do you some good standing watch.”

  Adam was relieved the old man’s pride could be assuaged. “Thank you. My name is Adam Browning, by the way. I’m a minister of the gospel.”

  “Well, I’ll be tarred and feathered. My pa was a preacher man. Glad to meet you. Just call me Shorty. That’s what I’m known by.”

  “Good enough, Shorty. What say we get to work?”

  The old man nodded. “I’ll find me a place at the top where I can look out without giving those Injuns too big of a target.”

  Adam immediately went to work digging in the wet ground. All around him, organized chaos continued. Nearly a hundred people were taking refuge in the fort. A handful of those were women and children. Amazingly enough, some of the women were of Indian blood, but they’d lived with their white husbands for so long that they would never think of leaving to join their relatives in the attack. That didn’t stop the occasional fight between a man who figured another man’s wife to be a spy, though.

  Adam had been at work for nearly three straight hours when one such argument started between the men nearest him.

  “I say that squaw will run out in the night and probably take valuable weapons with her,” one man declared.

  “And I say she won’t. She obeys me, and she’ll do what she’s told,” the other countered.

  The first man cursed. “Ain’t no woman who always does what she’s told. Especially no squaw. I say we should kill ’em before they kill us in our sleep.”

  “I’m not tolerating your threats.” The man moved in, his rifle at the ready.

  Adam broke in before things got worse. “Fellas, I’m sure this is an argument worth considering, but right now the enemy we know is the one we have to prepare against. We can determine if there are enemies within later.” He hoped his words would at least make the men think for a moment.

  It appeared to be working. The first man finally said, “I suppose he’s right. We ain’t gonna have no chance at all if we don’t build up this wall.”

  The other man nodded. “That’s a fact.”

  And with that, the argument was over and the two men went back to working side by side as if nothing had happened.

  Adam breathed a sigh of relief and went down the embankment for more dirt. Thankfully, Shorty had made a skid of sorts to haul the earth. It was nothing more than several plank pieces tied together with twine, but it had a rope for a pull and a wooden crate on top. The crate had seen better days, but it served their purpose.

  As the day continued, the gunfire grew more frequent, and it wasn’t long before an all-out battle raged on the south side of the Rogue. Smoke filled the air as the Indians set fire to the buildings. Nearly twenty men had stayed behind to defend the town and continue ferrying over supplies. Now they were most
likely dead or soon would be.

  It was a little after midday when Mercy appeared with a canteen of water and a chunk of bread and cheese. “I thought you should eat something.”

  “I’m more thirsty than anything.” He smiled. “But thank you.” He took the canteen and drained it of its contents. He handed it back and took the bread and cheese.

  “We heard about the town being fired.” Mercy glanced in the direction of Gold Beach. “Smoke is still pretty bad.”

  “Yes. The men here figure the Indians will attack us anytime now. They might wait until night. There are probably more warriors on the south side of the Rogue, so they may use the cover of dark to get across the river unseen and then attack in the morning. Indians have already been spotted on this side, but their main force is on the south side, we think.”

  “Do you believe that?” Mercy asked.

  “Well, I suppose they can see that we’re digging in here for a fight, so we’re not going anywhere anytime soon. Maybe they don’t feel a need to rush us.”

  Mercy hugged her arms to her chest. “I suppose not.”

  “How’s Faith holding up?”

  “She’s fine. She’s playing with some of the children. They’ve put the white men with white wives and children in one cabin. That’s where we are. You have a place there too. The other cabin is for the white men with Indian wives.”

  Adam had taken a bite of the bread and cheese and could only nod. He had heard about the arrangement. It saddened him to think that even here they were separating out the races.

  “I’ll bring you more water,” Mercy said after a moment.

  Adam shook his head. “Don’t risk it. I’d rather you be safe inside. Those logs on the cabin are thick and will protect you. I’m sure one of the men will come around with water. They did once this morning.”

  She looked at him in such a fearful way that Adam wanted only to take her in his arms. He couldn’t deny his love for her, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to confess it either.

  God, please show me what to do.

  He patted her cheek as a father might do to a child. “Go now and tell Faith that I love her.”

  Mercy lowered her arms. “Is that all you have to say?”

  Did she expect him to tell her that he loved her? “I . . . uh . . . in our current situation, I don’t know what else I can say.”

  Mercy’s chin jutted upward. “Very well.” She whirled on her heel and headed for the cabin.

  Adam watched her go for a moment. “I do love you,” he whispered.

  Mercy had barely entered the cabin before Billy Caxton was at her side. He scowled and looked her up and down.

  “You sure give that preacher a lot of your attention.” The scowl left his face and was replaced by a lopsided grin. “I could show you a much better time than he does.”

  “I don’t seek his company for a good time.” Mercy was determined to keep calm. “Adam is a good, godly man. He doesn’t let hatred control his actions, but seeks to do God’s will.”

  “I don’t see a man as good who won’t protect his loved ones.”

  “Adam is doing what he thinks is right. And in working to improve the embankment, he is protecting us.”

  Billy was frowning again. “Ain’t nothin’ I can say to convince you that I can be just as good?”

  “Mr. Caxton, you threatened to kill me.” Mercy put her hands on her hips. “What could ever persuade me to desire your company after that?” She started to go, then turned back. Pointing a finger at his chest, she added, “I hold you responsible for the death of Mrs. Browning and her unborn baby. If not for your attack and heartless killing, we might have gotten her to Gold Beach sooner, where a doctor might have saved them.”

  Billy shook his head and pointed back at Mercy. “Weren’t my doin’. You were the one who refused to leave. Once Mr. Browning was dead, it would have only been right to take yourselves back to Gold Beach, but instead you stayed to keep company with the Indians.”

  “It wasn’t just a matter of keeping company with them, Mr. Caxton.” Mercy knew arguing with him further was pointless, but she felt the need to say all that had been on her mind since the attack. “I’m sure you know very little of loyalty, but my loyalty had been given to the Brownings and their daughter. By nature of their work, my loyalty also extended to the Tututni. If you would have bothered to get to know those people rather than just killing them, you could have seen how gentle and kind they were. You might have learned how to get along and work together, but instead you let greed and anger guide you.”

  “Greed? What’s that got to do with it?”

  “I’ve heard plenty of talk around here about the amount of money being offered to men to kill the Indians rather than try to bring them in alive. Money was apparently far more important to you than the value of a human life.”

  He shook his head and spat on the floor. “There ain’t a heathen alive who has the soul of a human. They’re animals, plain and simple.”

  Mercy narrowed her eyes. “No, Mr. Caxton. You’re the animal.”

  There were occasional exchanges of gunfire throughout the night that grew into outright battle by first light. Some of the Indians had rifles, but most of their attack consisted of fired volleys of arrows that had little trouble striking inside the embankment. The men were watchful, but it was impossible to avoid injuries completely.

  Over the next several days of battle, Adam found himself busier than he could have imagined. When he wasn’t helping reinforce the wall, he was tending injured men. If a man was hurt badly enough, Adam took him to one of the cabins for the women to tend. Otherwise, he would just do what he could to patch them up and get them back on the embankment.

  It wasn’t long before men started dying, and Adam found himself called to speak words of comfort and to dig graves. Throughout the day, there was an ebb and flow to the fighting, but always there seemed to be some threat and little rest for the men. The captains did what they could to give each man a break, but it wasn’t for long. Certainly not long enough to make up for their long hours without sleep.

  Adam returned to where Shorty stood with the skid. It was full of dirt. Adam gave him a nod and took the skid up the embankment. He had no sooner dumped the load when a bullet whizzed by his ear.

  He looked across the embankment to see Billy shrug. “Sorry, Preacher. You were in my line of fire. Sure didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Anger surged at the blatant lie, but Adam managed to push it back down. He said nothing and instead pounded out his aggression on the loose dirt. Once it was secured in place, he went down for another load. He managed to transport three loads, sporadic gunfire going off all around him, before he had another encounter with Billy. This time, however, they were well away from the others, and even Shorty had gone to the cabin for a rest.

  “I’ve had my fill of you, Preacher,” Billy said.

  Adam looked at Billy for a moment then gathered the rope pull on the skid and headed up the embankment. He wasn’t surprised when Billy came bounding after him. “I’ve got no time to argue with you, Mr. Caxton.”

  “I ain’t here to argue.”

  “Shouldn’t you be firing upon the savages, as you call them?”

  “I’ll get back to that in my own good time.”

  They had reached the top of the levee, and Adam dumped his load of dirt and rock, all but ignoring Billy. This only served to anger the young man more. Adam sighed. “I don’t suppose you’re going to leave until I allow you to speak your mind.”

  “I didn’t come here to speak my mind, but now that you mention it, I do have a few things to say before I do what I came to do.”

  “And what is that, Mr. Caxton?”

  “I’m going to kill you, Preacher.” Billy pulled a large knife from the sheath at his side.

  Adam froze. This was a turn he hadn’t expected. “And how are you going to explain that to your militia friends? The bullet you fired earlier could have easily been explained, but not a k
nife wound.”

  “I’ll tell them you were a spy. That you were helping the enemy.” He climbed to the top of the earthen battlement. “They’ll believe me, ’cause they know you’ve been living with the heathens. They know you’re an Indian lover. They don’t like it any better than I do.”

  “Is that a fact?”

  “It is.” Billy fingered the blade, but his angry gaze never left Adam’s face. “I can’t figure out why a gal like Miss Flanagan would put store in you, but once you’re dead, she ain’t gonna have reason to give you another thought. Maybe then I’ll be able to get somewhere with her.” He grinned, but his eyes still held a look of contempt. “I’ll be a comfort to her.”

  “She’ll never find comfort in you. Especially not after you kill me. Mercy will make it her sole purpose to see you punished.”

  “Well, that ain’t the way I see it. She don’t need to know that I was the one doing the killin’.”

  Adam glanced across the open yard. No one seemed to notice them at all. The men who were resting were most likely asleep, and those who were fighting had no thought for other men on the wall. The only chance Adam had was to take a running jump down the hill or to call out for help. Neither seemed promising. By the time anyone got to him, Billy would have already done his best to end Adam’s life.

  Billy seemed to understand Adam’s thoughts and smiled. “It’s gonna be as easy to kill you as it was your brother.”

  Adam’s eyes widened and he forgot his fear. “You killed Isaac?”

  “Had to. He was going to negotiate a peace—bring the savages in without further fighting. I couldn’t let that happen.”

  “So you shot him with a bow and arrow and blamed it on the Tututni.”

  Billy laughed. “That’s right. That’s exactly what I did. When he took to his canoe, I followed him along the bank of the river, just far enough so that I couldn’t be blamed for his death. Then I killed him.”

  Adam’s anger returned unchecked. “I’ll see you hanged for this.” He clenched his fists at his side.

  Billy shook his head as gunfire erupted on the embankment across the way. “No, you won’t. You’d have to be alive to do that.”