Cherished Mercy

by Tracie Peterson

  “I’d forgotten how strong you are, Mr. Gabe!” She hugged him close, then got to her feet with Adam’s help.

  Faith was already looking across the room to where Hope waited with baby Eddie in her arms. It was clear that Faith realized who she was, so Mercy took her hand and led her to her mother. Hope handed the infant to Lance and smiled.

  Slowly, as if fearing she’d frighten Faith, Hope sank to her knees. For a moment, the two just looked at each other as if trying to figure out what to say. A hush blanketed the room, and even the children were silent.

  Mercy felt Adam come up behind her. He put his hands on her shoulders as if to give her strength.

  Finally, Faith spoke. “You’re my first mama, aren’t you?”

  Hope nodded. “I am, and I’m very glad you’ve come to see me.”

  Adam found Mercy standing by one of the rail fences, looking out across a field of peacefully grazing sheep. The evening air was chilly, but she hadn’t thought to bring a wrap, so Adam pulled off his coat and put it around her shoulders.

  “Out here contemplating the events of the day?” he asked.

  She turned, pulling the coat close as she did. “I am. I think things went well, don’t you?”

  He pushed back an errant strand of her brown hair. “I do. I think everything is going to be all right.”

  She nodded. “It felt like all the pieces were finally in place.”

  “Do you think Hope will be able to love her?”

  “I think so. I know Faith already loves her and the rest of the family. She seemed so happy this evening, playing with all the children. It’s like she should have always been a part of us.”

  “Yes. I can see that too.” Adam studied her face for a moment. “You know, I can never get enough of you. Those beautiful turquoise eyes have captivated me from the beginning. Do you suppose our children might have eyes that color?”

  “It’s possible. Look at Faith, she has blue eyes just like Hope.” Mercy smiled. “But I wouldn’t mind if our children had dark hazel eyes like yours. I think they’re very handsome. They’ve always made me feel as if you could look past all my pretenses and see the truth in my heart.”

  “I’ve never known you to put on pretenses. You’ve always just said what you were thinking.”

  “I suppose that’s true, but I haven’t always wanted to reveal my feelings. Like when I first realized I was smitten with you. I thought it was a bad idea to fall in love with a man I hardly knew.”

  Adam chuckled. “Some things are just meant to be.”

  “I was just thinking about that before you came.” She looked back at the field. “I spent a lot of time out there praying and thinking about life and what I wanted. I thought about the past and all that had happened. There are so many things I wish might have been different, but then I wonder—if they were different, would everything I know and love now also be altered?”

  “I’ve contemplated the same thing. While there were a great many difficulties and some deeply felt pain in my past, I wouldn’t risk what I have now by altering what happened then.”

  Mercy nodded. “Nor would I. Even the attack at Whitman’s, because had it not happened, Faith wouldn’t exist. I can’t imagine my life without her in it.”

  “Will you be able to part with her if Hope decides to raise her?”

  “I’m not pretending it will be easy, but I remind myself that she’ll still be a part of our family. Even if we do go to Grand Ronde, it’s not so far away that we won’t be able to come back here for visits.”

  “True enough.” Adam pulled her into his arms. “Besides, by then we might have some of those babies with turquoise blue eyes, and you’ll be far too busy to miss Faith.”

  Mercy lifted her face to him. “I hope we have a lot of children together, Adam. I think you’ll be an amazing father.”

  “And I know you’ll be the perfect mother.” He gave her a chaste kiss, then turned her loose. “I nearly forgot why I came out here in the first place. Grace said supper is ready.”

  Mercy looped her arm through his. “Then we’d best get back. Grace runs a very orderly house. She’ll soon be bossing you around with the rest of us—making you take your morning vinegar and drink plenty of boiled water. You will find her in every detail of your day.”

  Adam laughed. “So long as you’re there beside me, I can bear up under just about anything.”

  Chapter

  26

  In early June, word came to Adam that Joel Palmer wanted to see him. Since they had left Portland so quickly, there had been no chance to connect with the Indian Affairs agent, but Mercy knew that, given his interest in Adam, he eventually would be in touch.

  Palmer had been all over the Territory, trying to deal with the affairs of the Rogue River Indians, and still he made plans to discuss Adam’s request.

  Adam’s departure cast a gloom over Mercy, but she did her best to ignore it. It would have been madness for her to accompany Adam, given that he might very well end up back in Port Orford before everything was said and done. The danger there was still very real, and even if she’d wanted to put herself in the middle of that, her family would never have approved.

  The weeks they’d spent at the Armistead Farm had drawn Faith and the family close. Mercy watched her niece flourish as she began to establish herself with her siblings and cousins. As the eldest child, she became the leader of their little band, and even Gabe adored her.

  Mercy hadn’t yet posed the question to Hope as to whether or not she intended to raise Faith herself. Until now, Faith had been incorporated into the group of children as just one more of their number. Mercy, along with Grace and Hope, gave direction and correction as needed, almost as if there were some unspoken agreement.

  But at night, when everything settled down and the families separated to their own sleeping quarters, Faith was rather displaced. She stayed in Grace’s house, because that’s where Mercy and Adam were staying, and while she never said anything about the arrangements, she seemed out of sorts. With Adam gone, Mercy finally decided to address the matter.

  Once she had Faith tucked in for the night, Mercy sat on the edge of her bed as she usually did to hear Faith’s prayers. “Before we pray, I want to talk to you about something.”

  Faith sat up. “What about?”

  “You seem happy here. You seem to enjoy being with your cousins and . . . your little brothers.”

  She nodded. “I like them very much. I like to read to them. Only Gabe can read, and he doesn’t read very much. Sometimes I just tell them stories about when I lived at the mission.”

  “I’m sure they enjoy that.” Mercy smiled as Faith’s head bobbed in agreement. “But there’s something else I want to talk about.”

  “About my mama?”

  Mercy had noted over the last week or so that Faith had dropped the title “first mama” and started referring to Hope simply as “mama.” She didn’t call her that in front of anyone. In fact, she didn’t call Hope anything at all in the company of others. No doubt she wasn’t sure what to call Hope, and since no one was saying otherwise, it remained unaddressed.

  “Yes. I . . . I want to know your feelings, Faith. As you know, Adam has gone to see about us moving to the reservation to work with the Indians. I don’t know how soon he’ll be back, but we should start thinking about what will happen after that.”

  “I don’t know what will happen,” Faith said. “Do you?” She blinked several times as if her eyelids were growing too heavy to stay open.

  Mercy shook her head. “No, but I want you to know that everyone here wants only the best for you. I think it’s obvious that everyone cares about you. They all loved Eletta and Isaac, and they can’t help but love you too.”

  Faith yawned and eased back against her pillow. “I love them too.” Her words were murmured almost too low to be heard.

  Mercy decided it was probably not the best time to sort through all the particulars of their future. She leaned down and kissed
Faith on the forehead. “We can talk more about this tomorrow. Let me hear your prayers.”

  Faith was usually detailed in her prayer requests and praises, but not tonight. “God bless everyone.” She yawned. “Keep Adam safe and help him to help the Tututni. Be with my friends . . . and don’t let . . . anyone kill them.” She yawned again, and her words grew fainter. “Thank You . . . for . . .” She fell silent.

  Mercy opened her eyes and looked down at the sleeping girl. She was so petite and doll-like, almost fragile in appearance, yet Mercy had never known someone quite so strong and enduring. She pulled the cover up to Faith’s chin, then picked up the lamp and stood.

  “God, please keep her safe—don’t let her be hurt by the decisions of the adults around her. Please give us clear direction where she’s concerned.” She went to the door and paused again. “Thank You for giving us this beautiful little girl, Lord. She has been a blessing to so many.”

  Instead of going to her own bedroom, Mercy placed the lamp on the table at the top of the stairs and then went down to see if anyone else was still awake. The downstairs was quiet, and as Mercy walked through the rooms, she found herself missing Adam more than ever. She paused by the fireplace and hugged her arms to her body. The fire had burned down to embers but still gave off warmth.

  “I thought I heard someone down here,” Alex said, holding up a glass. “I decided to have some milk. Want a glass?”

  “No, thank you. I was just wandering around.”

  “Missing Adam?”

  Mercy smiled. “Yes. Very much.”

  “I can tell you,” he said, leaning against the doorjamb, “it did my heart good to see you two together. I worried that maybe the circumstances of the siege had thrown you into marriage without any real love between you, but when I saw the way Adam looked at you, I knew you’d be fine.”

  “And how does Adam look at me?”

  Alex’s expression grew thoughtful. “Like I look at Grace. She makes me complete—she’s my hopes and dreams—my life.” He smiled. “I know Adam feels that way about you just by the way he looks at you. But just to be sure, I had a nice long talk with him.”

  Mercy laughed. “About me?”

  “About this family. I felt he had to be warned.” Alex grinned. “You three Flanagan girls constitute a mighty army.”

  “Goodness, Alex. You make us sound like overbearing, demanding tyrants.”

  He shook his head. “Not exactly, but you’re all very good at getting your own way. I’ve grown used to it, but I knew Adam would feel overwhelmed. Grace figures she has the right to manage anyone who comes through her door. Then there’s Hope, who always seems to know what you’re thinking before you even say a word.”

  His comment made Mercy laugh again. “And what about me, brother-in-law?”

  Alex smiled. “You just love everyone. You’re kind and generous and very much as your name suggests—full of mercy. You easily forgive and never hold a grudge. It’s always amazed me that you can so easily let it go when someone wrongs you. I’ve always envied your ability to do that.”

  Mercy shrugged. “I can’t see carrying it around when there are so many other things I’d rather embrace.”

  “Well, I believe God has given you a special gift in that. I admire you for how you handle yourself.”

  “Don’t admire me too much.” Mercy shook her head. She easily remembered attitudes and actions that were less than admirable. “I do find that I can forgive with a fair amount of ease. Even with what happened at the Whitman Mission, I just felt better letting it go and putting my thoughts on better things. When I was south at the Browning Mission, however, and a man named Billy Caxton attacked the place with his men, I knew more anger and ugly thoughts than I’d ever known before. It took a lot prayer to forgive him—especially after learning that he killed Isaac.”

  “Adam told me about that. I can’t imagine a man so filled with hate that he would do such a thing.”

  “Neither could I. Isaac and Eletta were kind to him and his friends.” Mercy felt tears come to her eyes. “I wish so many things could be different, but then, I suppose if things hadn’t happened the way they did, I wouldn’t be here, and neither would Faith.”

  “And her being here is important to you, isn’t it?”

  Mercy took a seat on the settee. “It is.” She sighed. “I feel certain that she and Hope are destined to be together—that God wants them together. I don’t want Hope to feel forced into it, but Alex, Faith needs her. I’m not sure Faith will ever be whole without her.”

  Alex smiled. “If this is truly God’s doing, Mercy, then it will come together in His time. Hope puts her trust in God, and because of that, she’ll listen to His voice and prodding. Just give her time.”

  “Are you certain you don’t mind looking after all the children?” Hope asked as she tied on her sunbonnet.

  “Grace asked me the same thing before she headed to town. I’ll be fine.” Mercy looked at the children. “We’re going to have fun making cookies, aren’t we?”

  Gabe and Sean clapped their hands, while Nancy just gave a nod. Faith, however, stood in the doorway and said nothing.

  Hope glanced across the room to where the two babies were sleeping. “I shouldn’t be gone long. I’m just going to check on the lambs and move the flock to another pasture.”

  “Take your time. We’ll be fine.”

  “Can I go with you?” Faith asked Hope.

  Her request surprised Hope, and she did her best to hide her discomfort. She had always interacted with Faith while in the company of others. Still, the child’s request tugged at her heart. “I don’t see why not.”

  Faith brightened and looked at Mercy. “Is that all right?”

  “Of course.” Mercy looked at Hope for a moment and nodded. “I’ll expect to see you both in a few hours.”

  Faith followed Hope from the house without saying a word. Hope stopped to pick up her shepherd’s crook and then whistled for the dogs. The two collies came bounding up, eager for attention.

  “Good dogs.” Hope whistled, and they took off at a run toward the fenced area where the ewes and lambs grazed.

  The dogs easily slipped under the lowest fence rail while Hope and Faith entered through the gate. The ewes took more protective stances as the dogs arrived, and the lambs bleated and crowded closer to their mothers.

  “There sure are a lot of lambs,” Faith said in wonder.

  “Yes, we’ve had over two hundred born. There were a lot of twins this year.” Hope walked at a slow pace toward the far end of the pasture where another gate would allow her to move the flock out of the enclosed field.

  “Mercy said that men were going to come next week to shear them. Can I watch?”

  “We’re late getting to the task this year, but it’s a lot of work, and we’ll need everyone to do their part. Including you. Do you think you might like to lend a hand?”

  “Yes,” Faith answered, jumping up and down. “I want to help. I want to learn all about the sheep.”

  Her reaction made Hope smile. “I think we can arrange that.” She reached the gate and opened it. “Come over here and then stand back. The dogs will bring the sheep through in a hurry.”

  She whistled again, and the dogs went quickly to work. They were adept at herding the sheep and a wonder to watch. Hope could see how enthralled Faith was with the process. Watching her, Hope realized how much her feelings for Faith had deepened. She thought back to when Faith had first been born. Hope had been terrified to even lay eyes on the infant for fear she would look like Tomahas. Instead, Faith looked no more like that murderer than Hope did.

  It wasn’t long before the sheep were secured in the larger pasture, and Hope motioned to Faith. “Come on. We’ll leave them to feed.”

  “Will they be all right here without us?”

  Hope smiled and nodded. “They’re very self-sufficient when it comes to eating. And the way the land has been settled around here, with more and more people coming
in all the time, wild animals are less of a worry. The dogs will keep watch and let us know if there are problems.”

  Securing the gate was quickly accomplished and Hope started back toward the house. Before they’d gone very far, Faith spoke up.

  “Why did you give me away?”

  Hope stopped and looked down at her. “Mercy told me you read the journal. I thought that told you everything.”

  Faith nodded. “I know that the Indians hurt you and that they hurt a lot of people and killed your friends.” She frowned and looked away. “I know you didn’t want me, but . . . why? Did you think I’d be bad like my first father?”

  Her question pierced Hope’s heart. Without concern for the damp ground, she knelt. “Not bad. I never thought you were bad. I was afraid, Faith. I was very afraid.”

  “Of me?”

  Hope sighed. “Of you. Of my life. Of everything. I wasn’t sure I could ever be a mother to you or anyone.” She looked past Faith and prayed for the right words to say. “I know this will be hard for you to understand, but I want to try to help you.” She looked back at the little girl and felt a deep tenderness for her. “I really didn’t walk with God back then. I knew who He was and I’d been raised to respect and fear Him, but I didn’t read the Bible or pray, and I certainly didn’t think about living the life God would have me live.

  “When all those bad things happened at the mission—when my friends were killed, and we women and children were taken hostage—I blamed God. If He was all-powerful and good, then why had He let this happen?”

  Faith nodded. “I don’t understand why He let those men attack our mission. They killed my friends.”

  Hope reached out and touched Faith’s face. “Then you probably understand better than anyone else how I felt back then. Once we were rescued, I thought I could forget about it ever happening. I thought I could put it behind me and never have to remember those awful things. Then I found out I was going to have a baby.”

  “Me.”