Forever by Your Side

by Tracie Peterson

  It wasn’t an ideal choice. There would be no moonlight to see by, but thankfully Connie knew the area quite well and figured that once her eyes adjusted, she’d get by fine. If only the government had carried through on one of their many proposals for spur-line connections, but it seemed that plan after plan either failed to materialize or went bankrupt trying. There was always river travel, but that required finding a boat headed the right direction and would let others know what she was up to.

  On the train ride down, Connie thought about Tom. Why hadn’t she allowed herself to see how ideal he was? There was, of course, his lack of belief in God. She knew it was wrong to be unequally yoked, but even so, she knew in her foolish heart she probably would have overlooked that had she realized the depth of her feelings for Tom. Maybe it was God’s way of protecting her. She knew her parents would never have approved, and she would have had to defy them. Seven years ago, Connie could see herself going against everyone who said she couldn’t marry the man she loved. The thought made her sad. Would she truly have ignored the Bible’s warning and her own beliefs? Caught up in a moment of emotion, Connie feared she would have done just that.

  “But now he believes in God—or at least he’s starting to,” she murmured to herself.

  As the train neared Sheridan, Connie began questioning her plan. This was a very dangerous situation, and yet she’d thrown caution aside. She could have sent a telegram to Tom.

  But a telegram would have been intercepted by Clint. He always had a favorite Indian runner bring him any and all telegrams before they were delivered. Even Father Croquet had his messages looked over. Clint said it was the right of the Indian agent. The way Connie saw it, it was just Clint’s way of keeping track of what was going on.

  In Sheridan, Connie managed to rent a horse only after the current livery operator brought his father over to the livery to confirm who she was. The old man remembered her after Connie reminded him of a few stories related to their livery experiences. Finally she was on her way, with a warning that the twelve-mile distance couldn’t be managed easily on a moonless night.

  “If that horse throws you, he’ll make his way back here Johnny-quick. You won’t have a chance to catch him,” the old man declared.

  “Then I’ll make sure not to be thrown,” Connie countered with a smile.

  She knew the risks. She knew there were plenty of dangers, but if she didn’t reach Tom, she feared there would be even worse things to come. The trip had given her plenty of time to consider all that had happened and all that might yet be done. Mostly, it had given her time to contemplate her feelings for Tom and how she could hardly bear their separation.

  The horse snorted and sidestepped. Connie remembered the warning about being thrown and tried her best to soothe him. “It’s all right, boy. We’ll be there soon.” She ran her hand along his neck and gave his sides a little nudge. He seemed to settle as they moved forward. This happened several more times during their dark journey, and always it unnerved Connie just as much as her mount. Were there men sneaking around in preparation for an attack? Was it just wild animals? The latter didn’t frighten her nearly as much as the first.

  She had no idea what time it was, but when the distant lights of Grand Ronde finally came into view, Connie breathed a sigh of relief. She could admit now that she’d been more than a little afraid on the deserted road.

  Several mounted oil lamps lit the immediate area around the government house and church. The horse seemed as happy as Connie was to have civilization finally in view. He was less content when Connie took him in the darkened direction of her parents’ house. A single lamp glowed from the kitchen window. Hopefully Tom and Isaac would be there to greet her.

  She tied the gelding to a hitching post and made her way inside. “Tom! Isaac!” She moved through the dark rooms to the kitchen. There was no one there.

  A shiver ran down her spine. Was it possible Clint had already arranged for them to be captured . . . or killed? She shook her head. She couldn’t let herself think of such things. Tom and her brother were both smart. They knew how to take care of themselves.

  Connie made her way out the back door and considered her choices. Maybe they were at the government house. Major Wells had promised he’d send a fast rider ahead of the supply detail. The rider would have a letter explaining the truth to Colonel Bedford, since they couldn’t risk sending a telegram. Maybe the colonel had already taken Clint into custody, and her brother and Tom were giving evidence against him.

  Taking the shortcut to the government house, Connie endured the blackness once again. At least here on the reservation she knew her way around even better than on the road. This had been her home for fifteen years. There was nothing to fear here. Well, not unless you counted a madman who wanted to start a war and Indians who had come to hate anyone who was white.

  She shivered and cast a glance heavenward. The stars seemed so bright in the ebony sky. She smiled. Although their light wasn’t all that bright, they brought her comfort all the same. The same God who had created the universe and put the stars in the sky had sent His Son to die for her. Surely He was with her now. He wouldn’t leave her to face this alone.

  Connie came out of the trees and crossed the open yard to the government house. There were at least two lights burning inside, as she could see light coming from the back of the house and from the front. She wasted little time reaching the back door, then snuck a peek into the kitchen area. Clint’s living quarters were here, but he was nowhere in sight.

  She had thought perhaps Tom and Isaac had gone to help take Clint into custody, but maybe it was worse. Maybe they’d been taken by Clint. She moved around to the front of the house and stopped under an open window. She listened. There didn’t seem to be anyone inside.

  The army was camped just beyond the church and school. Perhaps she should go there and explain why she’d returned. It was possible that Tom and Isaac were with the soldiers. That would make sense.

  She started for the open yard, but someone grabbed her from behind and dragged her backward.

  “I’m so glad you’re home.” Mercy wrapped her arms around her husband and sniffed back tears. She had prayed so long and hard that he would be set free, and now that he was here, it was all she could do to keep from sobbing.

  “I’m all right, sweetheart. Don’t cry. They took good care of me once they realized I probably wasn’t guilty.”

  She pulled back and smiled. “Lance has worked hard to get you set free. He wouldn’t rest, and neither would Connie.”

  Adam glanced around. “Speaking of Connie, where is she?”

  Mercy glanced at the others, then turned back to Adam. “She’s gone to Grand Ronde.”

  “What? With all that’s happening? Mr. Carter said they mean to attack—that Clint is the one in charge. That even his father is a part of this.”

  Mercy nodded. “I know, and when Connie found out some of the details, she left to get to Tom. I’ve been very worried.”

  “When did she leave?”

  “Earlier today. She left me a note—a very brief one, but she told me that she loved Tom and meant to ensure his safety.”

  Adam shook his head and looked at Lance. “What can we do?”

  “It’s already been done. We let Major Wells know, and he’s going to telegraph Colonel Bedford in the morning. Bedford is in charge down there. Of course, it’s always possible that the telegram could be intercepted.”

  A heavy sigh escaped Adam, and Mercy put her arm around him. “What else can we do? It’s not only Connie, but also Isaac and Tom. They’re all at risk.”

  “There’s nothing we can do. Major Wells has asked us to stay put,” Seth said. He stood not far from Lance. “We need to honor his request. There are enough people running around Grand Ronde now as it is. Hopefully his men will find Connie before she even reaches the reservation, and they know that Tom and Isaac stayed behind. They should have already moved them to a safe place.”

  “I f
eel such a sense of defeat.”

  “Nonsense.” Mercy understood her husband’s feelings but was determined they focus on the positive at hand. “You’re home now. That’s a good thing.”

  Adam touched her cheek. “Connie being gone isn’t our only trouble. Do you know what they said about us in the newspaper?”

  Mercy looked at the others. She could see by their expressions that they were hiding something. Nancy wouldn’t even meet her gaze, and Faith’s eyes welled up with tears. Faith’s husband, Captain Gratton, put his arm around her as Hope came to stand beside Mercy.

  It was clear that whatever the news was—it wasn’t good. “Someone better speak up and tell me what’s going on.”

  Adam shook his head. “It was reported that I’m half Cherokee and that our marriage is illegal.”

  Mercy had never expected even the remotest possibility of this. Her knees gave way, and Adam caught her and helped her to a chair.

  “It isn’t true,” she murmured, shaking her head. “It isn’t true.”

  “We know the truth, darling, but the facts are what they are. I’m part Indian, and you are white. Oregon state laws make our marriage null and void.”

  “But the law only applies to someone who is half Indian.” Mercy still couldn’t believe this was happening.

  “You know it would be next to impossible to prove that I’m not, and besides that, what about the movements to push for the amount of Indian blood to be lowered to one-quarter, as it is with other races?”

  “This isn’t right.”

  “No, it’s not,” Faith agreed.

  Mercy still shook her head. “Just when I thought this nightmare might actually be over.”

  Tom woke up with a fierce headache and the memory of Clint Singleton standing nearby. It was pitch black, and Tom felt around and found only thick brush. His thoughts were rather jumbled by the pain, but he knew he had to reach Colonel Bedford. The minute the solders started eating whatever meal Clint had poisoned, it would be too late to save them.

  He stood, holding fast to a small sapling. The darkness was good cover, but just as it aided him, it would also aid Singleton and the Indians. Tom hesitated.

  Then something he hadn’t expected happened. A bugler was blowing formation. Was it possible the army had received word about Singleton? He maneuvered on shaky legs toward the sound. If he could just reach the camp, the doctor there could treat his wounds, and he could make certain they knew what was going on.

  He pressed on until he saw the lights of the central reservation. He knew the smaller group of soldiers was just beyond the church. He could make it there and then get someone to send for the colonel. Tom’s hope surged.

  It seemed to take forever, but Tom finally reached the camp. There was a large tent with lighted lanterns in the center. He stumbled inside and blinked, giving his eyes time to adjust to the light.

  “I need to see the colonel,” he said.

  A man looked up at him from where he sat at a table with a map rolled out before him. His eyes widened at the sight of Tom. “Good grief, man, sit down before you fall.” He turned and called to a young man at the far end of the table. “Private, get the doctor.”

  The boy jumped to his feet. His eyes widened at the sight of Tom. “Yes, sir, Captain.” He rushed from the tent, pulling on his cap as he went.

  Tom sank onto a camp stool. “Captain, I have information you need to know. Singleton is the man you’re looking for, the white man who has been bringing guns and whiskey to the camp.”

  “The senator is responsible?”

  “No. I mean, I don’t know if he’s involved.” Tom strained to think. Was the senator involved? He couldn’t remember. “Clint Singleton plans to poison your food supply. I was in a meeting with the Indian Legislature. They told me it was part of the plan. Clint set the entire thing in motion to set off the war. We found the guns, however, and they won’t be a problem. Most of them appeared to be non-functioning anyway. We moved them—hid them from where Clint had stored them.” He paused. “But you probably know that. Your soldiers helped.”

  Tom pressed his hand to his head to stave off the dizziness and tried to collect his thoughts. The doctor entered with his bag in hand. Tom closed his eyes but continued to speak. “The Legislature agreed to stop the Indians. At least the ones who would listen to them.”

  “Just be still, son. Let me examine these wounds. Private, bring me hot water and towels,” the doctor commanded. The young soldier did so quickly, then stood ready for his next order.

  Tom paid them little attention. He wanted to make sure the soldiers would be safe. “Captain, don’t let your men eat whatever Singleton has arranged. He plans to poison you all.”

  “Private, get over to the mess and tell them the men are to eat nothing until I say otherwise. Tell them the food is poisoned, lest the men be tempted to ignore orders. Then ask Colonel Bedford to join us,” the captain said, then looked at Tom. “We received a telegram telling us to take Singleton into custody earlier, and word must have reached him. He hasn’t been seen anywhere.”

  Tom relaxed and gave a sigh. “Good. Thank God.” The words came so easily from his lips that Tom couldn’t help but smile. It was the first time he’d ever thanked God for anything.

  “Tom!” A very worried Isaac rushed to his side.

  A wave of relief flowed through Tom. Isaac was safe. He closed his eyes again and winced as the doctor began swabbing his head wound.

  Isaac looked at Tom with grave concern. “They said you’d been shot.”

  “Afraid so. It seems Clint Singleton wanted me out of the way.”

  “Where is he now?” Isaac turned to the captain.

  “We haven’t been able to locate him. However, we will. Rest assured.”

  “I’m happy to help,” Isaac declared. “I came to warn you that your food has been poisoned.” He looked down at Tom. “Or did you already tell them?”

  “He did, and we should be able to dodge that attack. Thank you both. But I think now you need to stay out of the way and let the army do its job,” the captain replied. “Singleton is obviously dangerous and will require men with training to bring him down.”

  Isaac didn’t argue but exchanged a glance with Tom. They were hardly the kind to sit back and let someone else take care of their problems.

  Chapter 22

  Clint dragged Connie into his house, then let go of her with a push. She stumbled but righted herself quickly. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

  Connie appeared to be wrestling with her fears. Clint hated her all the more. He had no time for such nonsense. She was no longer useful to him.

  “I asked you a question,” he pushed.

  “I was afraid for Tom . . . and Isaac . . . and you.”

  “Afraid for us? Why?”

  She seemed to be thinking over her answer. Her pretense at innocence annoyed him.

  “Never mind. I don’t need any more of your lies,” he said.

  “When have I lied to you?”

  Now she sounded angry. Clint almost laughed. “Your whole appearance has been a lie. Don’t think I didn’t know you were trying to prove your mother and father innocent of inciting the Indians to war.”

  “But they are innocent, as you well know.”

  “And just what is that supposed to mean?”

  She planted her hands on her hips. “It means that my parents are innocent. And I didn’t lie. I came here to chronicle the Indian tribes. It just so happened that I wanted to help my folks as well. I didn’t lie about my investigation. I just didn’t bother to tell you about it.”

  “And why not? Don’t you trust me? I thought you were madly in love with me.”

  She shook her head and backed up a pace. “I didn’t trust you then, and I don’t trust you now.”

  This time Clint did laugh. “So you’re a private investigator now, eh? Little Connie Browning playing Pinkerton agent.”

  “Why are you treating me like this? I thought t
he tables were turned and you were in love with me now. What about that?” She raised a brow.

  “Ha, that’ll be the day, when I fall in love with an Indian. You’re an eighth Cherokee, after all.” He could see her surprise. “Didn’t think I knew that, eh? I’ve known it since you were a child throwing herself at me.”

  “So that’s why you didn’t return my love or even show an interest in me.” She nodded. “It all makes sense now.”

  “That and the fact that your crazy father would have had my hide if I so much as looked at you with serious intent. He knew you were smitten, but he talked to me long and hard about it.”

  “He did? I never knew. I guess he could sense your bad character.” She crossed her arms. “It’s funny how a God-fearing man has insight no one else has. My father apparently knew you were nothing but trouble, even back then.”

  “Just as I knew he was nothing but another Indian. I kept his secret as long as it served me to do so. Of course, it no longer does.”

  “I saw your false report in the Portland newspaper. It couldn’t have come from anyone else, so don’t bother to deny it.”

  “I wasn’t going to.” Clint leaned back against the counter and smiled. “I take full responsibility.”

  “Well, you could have at least gotten the facts right. Father is only one-quarter Cherokee.”

  “I know, but half-breed sounded so much better.” Clint shook his head. It really was a pity. If not for that Indian blood, he might have done other things with Connie instead of thinking how he might kill her. Her boldness was appealing.

  She raised her chin. “All I care about is that your plans are foiled. Someone in your group of cronies came forward to the army and police and told them everything. They know all about your plans—that you killed those two men and probably more.”