Cherished Mercy

by Tracie Peterson

  He lunged much faster and farther than Adam had expected and was on him in a flash.

  There was barely time to dodge Billy’s blade, but before Adam could attempt to disarm him, a gunshot rang out, and Billy’s eyes widened. He dropped the knife and clutched his side where a crimson stain was starting to spread.

  Adam felt as if he were glued to the ground. Billy’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, and he fell face-first down the embankment.

  Only then could Adam rally his senses. He looked out across the field to the trees where the shot had come from. There, standing just within view, was Tunchi.

  He still held his rifle to his shoulder, but when their eyes met, he lowered it. For a moment neither man moved, and then Tunchi gave a nod, pounded his fist over his heart in a gesture of friendship, and disappeared into the trees.

  Chapter

  17

  Mercy found their captivity maddening. There was little food and no way to keep clean or have any real privacy. She busied herself with treating the injured until every herb and tonic in her bag was gone. Even her precious vinegar had been used up, though she was trying to make more from beer. Grace had done it on more than one occasion, so Mercy knew it was possible, but given the cold weather and the chilly temperatures of the cabin, she wasn’t sure it would take. Besides, it would be a long time before it would be ready for use.

  Every day there were sounds of gunshots and war cries. Just outside the door was a large pile of arrows that had been collected inside the fort. Someone said there were over five hundred. Mercy had no idea if that was accurate, but it was a reminder of the death raining down from the skies. The women and children were told not to leave the cabins for any reason.

  Inside, there was a variety of work to be done. Some of the women worked at melting lead, while others were busy making minié balls for the men’s guns. Most of the women had given up their underskirts and petticoats for bandages. One woman tried to keep some normalcy by teaching the children. Mercy had made it clear that she would be happy to help in this as well, but her healing skills were far more important to those in the fort.

  But with her supplies gone, Mercy wasn’t sure she could offer much more than to clean wounds and bandage them. She wondered when it would end. At Whitman’s, she’d been hostage for a month. Would it be the same here? They’d only been here a week, and yet it felt like months. It was unnerving, and no matter how hard she tried to just rest in her assurance that God was in control, Mercy felt her faith wavering. She’d never had an issue with her faith in God or His will before. Even when she didn’t understand why things happened the way they did, she still held strong to the belief that God had a purpose in it.

  She still felt that way, but this time she was starting to be concerned. It wasn’t that she feared death. Death came to all, and while she wanted very much to live for a good long time, she knew that death had no power over her. However, she couldn’t help worrying about Faith and Adam. She didn’t want to lose either of them. She didn’t want the Tututni friends she’d made to die in this unjust war.

  “Do you think my friends are out there?” Faith asked out of the blue.

  Until now, the child’s spoken concerns with the ongoing war had been minimal. She still missed her mother and father at night, though. Mercy often heard her crying in her sleep.

  “I don’t know.” She wouldn’t lie to Faith. “They might be. Not the children, of course.” She smiled and tried to sound more encouraging. “I’m sure the people from our mission are safely in the mountains.”

  “Not the ones who got killed at the mission.”

  Mercy saw the grief in Faith’s expression. “No. They’re with Jesus now.”

  For a long moment, neither said anything more.

  “But the men from our village might be out there,” Faith finally said. She pulled at one braided pigtail and then the other. “Mary’s father might be there, and Tunchi and the others. What if they get killed?”

  “It would be very hard on their families to lose their fathers. You know how sad that is. I lost my father when I was about your age. It’s never easy at any age to lose someone you love, but when you’re still little, the loss sometimes causes more than just sadness. It can cause fear too.”

  Faith nodded. “I’m afraid. Aren’t you?”

  “A little, but I keep reminding myself that the Bible says that when I’m afraid, I can trust God. The Bible has a lot of verses about not being afraid.” Mercy knew this very well because she’d been trying to find them all in Adam’s Bible.

  Faith dropped her hold on her hair and nodded. “Like when the angel told the shepherds about Jesus’s birth. They said, ‘Fear not!’”

  “Exactly.” Mercy began tying a cloth over the top of a crock of water. “We don’t have to be afraid, even if someone takes our lives, because they can’t touch our souls when they belong to Jesus.”

  “But I don’t want to die,” Faith said.

  Mercy finished with the crock and turned to Faith. “Nor do I.” She squared her shoulders, determined not to give in to her fears. “And you know what, I don’t think we will. I think we’ll be just fine.”

  Faith wrapped her arms around Mercy. Even though there were other women and children milling about the cabin, it was as if she and Faith were the only ones in the world. For several minutes, Mercy just held Faith and prayed. She let Faith be the one to pull away, and when she did, Mercy was relieved to see her smiling.

  “Thank you, Mercy.” Faith scampered off in search of her playmates.

  Mercy watched her from across the small cabin, marveling at how easily Faith changed her focus. The children seemed capable of forgetting about the affairs going on outside. At least for a little while.

  Faith found her friends and joined in a game of some sort. Mercy couldn’t tell what the little girls were doing, but they seemed happy, and that was all that mattered. She didn’t want Faith to be afraid. She wanted to take Faith away from all of this and see her happily settled in an environment where she could be loved and nurtured, just as she had been. Mercy did wonder, however, how she would manage things once they left Gold Beach and headed to Oregon City. She’d already determined that it wouldn’t be fair to just show up at the farm with Faith in tow. Somehow, she needed to get a letter to Hope and Grace and let them know what had happened. Her sisters didn’t even realize that Isaac and Eletta were dead. The news would be hard to hear.

  Adam came into the cabin and looked around the room until his gaze locked on to Mercy. He motioned her to join him.

  She left what she was doing and went to him. “What’s wrong?” His expression was grim and there was a sort of wariness about him.

  “I need to talk to you—alone.”

  He opened the cabin door and pulled her outside. He looked toward the embankment and the sky overhead as if expecting a barrage of arrows. They walked a little way from the door, but not so far as to be unable to return quickly should the need arise.

  “What is it, Adam?” Mercy searched his face. “What’s happened?”

  He took hold of her arms. “Billy Caxton is dead. Tunchi shot him.”

  “How do you know it was Tunchi?”

  “I saw him.”

  Mercy shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  Adam tightened his grip. “There’s so much more. I can hardly sort it out. Billy tried to kill me.”

  “Kill you?” Mercy fought a wave of fear at the thought. She’d just told Faith they didn’t need to be afraid. It wouldn’t look good if she gave in to it now. “Why would Billy want to kill you?”

  “Probably for the same reasons he killed Isaac.”

  “What!” She hadn’t meant to cry out.

  “Shhh, I don’t want everyone to know.” Adam pulled her a little farther from the front of the cabin, but kept glancing to the skies. “Billy told me he was going to tell everyone I was spying for the Indians. He figured to kill me and then tell them he’d done it to keep everyone safe.
Then he told me he killed Isaac because he was going to broker peace.”

  Mercy listened without interruption. She had always suspected Billy of having something to do with Isaac’s death, but hearing the truth was almost too much to bear.

  “Isaac never made it to the army. Billy followed him along the riverbank, and when just the right moment came along, he shot three arrows into Isaac’s back and killed him.”

  “And told us that the Tututni had done it.” Mercy was so mad she trembled. “How dare he? I’m glad he’s dead. I’m glad Tunchi killed him.”

  “He could have killed me too, but he didn’t.”

  “Tunchi?” Mercy couldn’t begin to fathom all that had happened. “How do you know that?”

  “Billy and I were on the top of the north embankment. Most of the fighting was taking place on the south and east sides, so there was no one else around. Billy found me and lunged at me with a knife. It happened so fast, I didn’t even know what to do. But before he could hurt me, he was shot. I looked in the direction the shot must have come from, and there was Tunchi tucked in the shadows of the trees. He let me see him. I don’t know if he knew that Billy killed Isaac or not, but he shot Billy with the rifle Isaac gave him.”

  “But he didn’t try to shoot you?”

  “No. He wanted me to know that he could have killed me but chose not to. He put his hand to his heart, assuring me of his friendship. Then he left.”

  “Oh my!” Mercy’s knees felt weak. She didn’t know what else to say. It was almost too much to take in.

  Adam surprised her by pulling her close. She was grateful for his warmth and strength. In his arms, she felt there was nothing she couldn’t face.

  “The Tututni are out there—our friends are out there.”

  Mercy pressed her cheek against his chest. “I wish they would simply run to the mountains and hide. I hate to think of them being killed. They’re only defending what is rightfully theirs.”

  “I’m glad you don’t hate them.”

  She gave a small shake of her head. “I couldn’t. I saw how those men loved you and Isaac. I saw how the women loved Eletta and Faith. I loved them in return. I loved those precious children.” She thought of the dead they’d left behind. The ones she hadn’t been able to save the day Billy attacked. They would always haunt her.

  “They were good people. I knew a great many of the Rogue River Indians, and I will miss them when they go north to the reservation.”

  “Perhaps we could go to the reservation too,” Mercy murmured. She wasn’t at all sure he’d heard her, but when he pulled away from her, she knew by the look on his face that he had, and that he understood her implication.

  Adam said nothing. He stood silently watching her face. Mercy knew it was foolish to deny her feelings anymore.

  “Adam, I’ve never been one to lie about my feelings. I’m an outspoken woman, as you well know, and I’m not afraid to let my thoughts—even my desires—be known.”

  His brow rose, betraying his curiosity, but still he said nothing.

  “I have for some time known that my feelings for you were changing. I think you know that, and furthermore, I think you feel the same way I do.” She drew a deep breath to steady her nerves. She might sound bold and be outspoken, but deep inside she was still afraid of his rejection. “I feel things for you that I’ve never felt for any man. From the first moment I saw you, I knew there was something about you that was important to me. I can’t explain it, but I knew you would change my life.”

  “Mercy, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

  “Yes, I do.” She nodded and stepped closer. “I love you, and you are absolutely the only man I will ever love.”

  He took hold of her arms again, but this time to hold her back. “I know you feel that way at the moment, but living under siege with the threat of death makes us think strange things.”

  “I felt this way before my life was endangered. I’ve felt this way for a long time.”

  “You haven’t known me for a long time.” He looked almost stunned by her declaration.

  Still Mercy knew that he felt the same way. “You can say what you want, but I know you have the same feelings for me.”

  “I . . . I can’t deny that I . . . have feelings for you.” He stopped and dropped his hold. “But . . . there’s something I have to tell you. Something that I think will probably change how you feel about me.”

  “They’ve killed Ben Wright!” someone yelled from across the grounds.

  Chaos was immediate, and there was no longer any thought of Adam’s confession. Mercy had no idea what he’d been about to say, but at least he had admitted to having feelings for her. She started across the yard to hear what had happened, but Adam reached out to pull her back.

  “Get inside. I’ll bring you news when I know something.”

  “But—”

  He pushed her toward the cabin door. “Please just do as I say. It isn’t safe out here.”

  She considered protesting but instead turned and headed for the cabin. She didn’t like the fear she’d seen in Adam’s eyes. Not for himself . . . but for her.

  The women inside the cabin had heard the commotion and wanted to know what was happening.

  “Have we been breached?” one woman asked Mercy.

  “Someone said that Ben Wright had been killed,” she said.

  The woman put her hand to her mouth. Another woman began to cry. “They’re going to kill us all.”

  “Hush!” Mercy spoke in a harsher tone than she’d intended. “You’ll scare the children. We’re perfectly safe here. As I understand it, Ben was on the south side of the river.”

  “That’s true, Miriam,” another woman said, putting her arm around the one who’d spoken.

  They waited for what seemed an eternity before one of the men returned. He was the husband of one of the other women, who’d just had a baby not two weeks before the attack.

  “The Indians have killed or burned out everyone up and down the coast. They got Ben Wright and others. We’re next.”

  So much for keeping the children calm and unafraid. Mercy looked around for Faith. She stood with the other children, listening with wide eyes.

  “What can we do?” one of the women asked.

  “We’ve got to have help. We’re going to sneak someone out of here when it’s good and dark and send them up to Port Orford to bring the army.”

  The women nodded and murmured their approval, but one spoke up. “That will take time, and we don’t have much of that.”

  “We’re still well enough fixed,” the man countered. “We can hold them off for quite some time.”

  “We haven’t got enough food or provisions,” the woman called Miriam countered. “How can we keep going on what little we have?”

  “We’ll have to ration it out.”

  “We’re already doing that, and it’s still slipping away much too fast,” she answered.

  The man looked irritated. “We’ll do what we have to do. But for now, all we can do is send the runner and wait.”

  And wait they did. February turned into March, and still no help came. Neither was there any word of help coming. The man they’d sent to Port Orford hadn’t been heard from. He could have been killed on the way; there was no way to know. Mercy felt like they were stranded on an island in the middle of the ocean.

  Strangely enough, the Indians hadn’t attacked again. Not in full force. In fact, some even thought the Indians had given up on the fort and left the area altogether. Even the sentries had seen no sign of them, and because of this, the men who’d taken charge called everyone together.

  “We believe the Indians may have left the area,” the leader began. “I think it’s safe enough to at least go out and forage for food.”

  Adam inserted himself into the conversation. “You’re fools if you risk leaving the fort. They’re still out there. I know they are.”

  “You’re wrong. They would be attacking us if they were still th
ere.” The leader clearly didn’t like to be contradicted. “We’ve got to have food. There’s no denying that. I want a group of seven men—volunteers—to go retrieve food. There’s a potato field about a half mile upriver. Plenty of spuds were left for just such need. We might even catch some game or fish. I’ll be one of the seven to go, and I only want single men to volunteer.”

  “I’ll go,” Nigel Grierson said, stepping up.

  After that, everyone was talking at once. The other volunteers were decided, and before anyone could say much else about it, the men left to ready themselves for the journey.

  “They shouldn’t go,” Adam said, moving to stand beside Mercy.

  “But if they don’t do something, we’ll starve.” She looked up at him. “These children are hungry.”

  “I know.” His voice was resigned.

  Since things had quieted somewhat, Mercy touched his arm. “You were going to tell me something a while back. Something about yourself that you fear will change my feelings for you. Now seems like as good a time as any to tell me.”

  Adam looked at her for a moment and then nodded. “I suppose you’re right.” He pulled her to the farthest corner of the cabin.

  Mercy knew he was uneasy, but she also knew he would have to tell her whatever it was so she could assure him it didn’t matter. Still, waiting for him to speak was maddening.

  “So tell me already,” she blurted after several long seconds of silence.

  He heaved a sigh. “It’s about my past. About who I am.”

  “Preacher! Preacher, where are you? Come quick. Big Joe’s takin’ a turn for the worse and is askin’ for you,” Shorty called from the door.

  Adam gave her an apologetic look before hurrying off. Mercy wanted to scream in frustration but stood in silence. There would be a chance to hear Adam’s concerns. She just needed to bide her time.

  Chapter

  18

  Grace paled as she read the newspaper. Authorities stated that the entirety of the Rogue River region was at war. Up and down the river, the Indians were raiding, killing, and burning down any structure built by the whites. The army was hot on their heels, but the Indians kept avoiding capture. In their wake, they left atrocities too numerous to detail, according to the editor.