Treasured Grace Read online

  She knew that she wasn’t the only one to suffer. Many of the other women had endured what she had. Lorinda hadn’t even been allowed to stay at the mission. Perhaps they would all be separated and taken to various villages.

  The women all seemed to share the same expression—a hollow, vacant look that marked them as victims who had already endured too much. Only the needs of their children kept them alive, and with over thirty children, that job was constant. Hope knew that these women had faced great struggles coming west to live in this wretched land. They were strong. Stronger than her. Hope glanced at Mercy, who was wound up tight in a ball, sleeping. Hope knew Mercy needed her, just as those other children needed their mothers. They desperately needed someone they trusted to assure them that everything would be all right, but Hope couldn’t even do so for Mercy’s sake. She had nothing left to give. The Cayuse had taken everything.

  Hope lost track of time. There was no thought for what day of the week it was or what time of day. The days and nights were marked only by the actions of the Indians. When they were hungry, they forced the women to prepare them food, even though their own women had come and ransacked most of the stored goods kept at the mission. When any of the Cayuse needed something, they demanded it via little Eliza Spaulding.

  Tomahas came for Hope time and time again. At first she looked for an opportunity to escape or kill him, but none ever came, and after a while she saw the futility. Even if she could escape—where would she go? And if she killed him, who knew what the Cayuse would do to her—or Mercy?

  Every night the Cayuse argued about what to do with the women and children. Always it was suggested that they be killed in the morning. Yet in the morning life went on. Louise Sager and Helen Mar Meek, two little girls sick with measles at the time of the attack, died. Helen was the daughter of Joseph Meek, a law official for the territory. Louise was John’s six-year-old sister whom Hope had helped care for prior to the attack. Now they were both gone, and Hope could only wonder who would be next.

  As a sort of routine took hold, the women became less silent and started talking to one another, supposing what might happen next. As best they could figure, their husbands and the bachelors and older boys were dead. No one had seen anything of Peter Hall, and Mrs. Hall held fast to the hope that he had escaped to get help. This was what she told her five children over and over, but Hope didn’t believe it to be true.

  The Osborns were also missing. The entire family had been staying in the Indian room of the mission house. Their sickness was only just passing, and all had still been too weak to be up and about. Since the attack, no one had seen anything of them or their three remaining children. The only one left who was unaccounted for was William Canfield, and Sallie Ann Canfield, like Peter Hall’s wife, believed her husband had escaped to get help. It gave the women hope to hold on to.

  “Do you think Grace knows what’s happened to us?” Mercy asked, nudging Hope.

  Hope hadn’t realized that Mercy had awakened. “I don’t know.”

  Mercy’s expression changed to one of fear. “You don’t suppose the Indians killed her?”

  “I don’t know.”

  For several long minutes, Mercy said nothing more. Then with a low whisper, she asked, “Do you think they’re going to kill us?”

  Hope shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  “Hope, have you eaten?” Ellen Canfield, Sallie Ann’s sixteen-year-old daughter, squatted down in front of Hope. “I have some bread.”

  Looking at the young woman, Hope could see the same resignation in her face that the others wore. They were just girls—young women on the threshold of their adulthood. The world had seemed an amazing place just a short time ago. Hope had known love—honest and true love—but now that was gone.

  She shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Mama said we have to eat to keep up our strength.” Ellen pushed a chunk of bread into Hope’s hands.

  “Strength for what?” Hope asked. She handed the bread to Mercy, then leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes. It surely took no strength to die.

  Chapter

  14

  Alex spied Grace’s horse first. The mount was feeding, and Grace was nowhere to be seen. For a moment his fears ran rampant. Had she been hurt? Had she been attacked? When she finally came out from a stand of trees, he released the breath he’d been holding.

  He and Sam were no more than twenty feet away when Grace looked up and realized they’d caught up with her. She shook her head vehemently and backed away.

  “No. No, you can’t stop me. I won’t let you.”

  Alex slid off his horse and crossed the short distance between them. He took hold of her shoulders and shook her. “Have you lost all of your senses? This countryside is crawling with Cayuse. Do you really think they’ll overlook the fact that you’re white and let you live?” Grace pushed at him, but Alex held her fast. “I told you Sam was willing to go. He still is, but you cannot. You and I will wait here for him. Do you understand me?”

  “I have to know what’s happened. I have to see my sisters—dead or alive.”

  “You can be far more help to them here. If they are dead, they need nothing. If they are alive, then Sam will do what he can to bring them to you. For now, the best we can do is wait and keep out of sight.”

  “You’re just afraid to go to the mission. You’re a coward!” she declared, pounding her fists against his chest.

  Alex froze. The look on her face—a mix of disgust and indignation—was the same look he’d seen on his little brother’s face ten years earlier when he wouldn’t—couldn’t—go back into the blazing inferno to save their parents. He dropped his hold and for a moment could only stare at Grace. Her words were like a slap. He wasn’t a coward, but he knew what was sensible in this situation.

  “Do as you will.” He turned and walked away, knowing that he couldn’t change her mind if she was determined to have her way. Neither could he make her understand that he wasn’t a coward.

  Grace hated herself for calling Alex a coward. She could still see the pain in his expression—his eyes. She knew it was only the anger and fear that had caused her to say such a thing, but nevertheless she owed him an apology. Before she could go to him, however, Sam approached her.

  “Grace, I know it is hard for you to wait, but if you won’t do so willingly, then I will tie you up.”

  Her eyes widened. “You would really do that?”

  “To save your life—yes.” Sam looked unhappy, but he didn’t back down. “I can’t let you risk your life and ours by going to the mission.”

  “But my sisters—”

  “Will be in even more danger if you go in there making demands of people who already bear you a grudge. If they are alive, I can accomplish more—because I share Cayuse blood.”

  She studied Sam’s face for a moment. His expression was stern, but in his dark eyes she saw great compassion. Perhaps she was a fool to think she could just parade onto the mission grounds without consequences, and a worse fool to have hurt Alex.

  With a heavy sigh, she nodded. “I’ll stay.”

  Sam reached inside his buckskin shirt to pull out a necklace he wore on a rawhide strip. He took it off and handed it to Grace. A long claw hung from the strip.

  “I want you to have this to remind you of your promise to stay.”

  Grace took the piece and looked up at Sam. “I don’t understand.”

  “I killed this bear when I was thirteen—but not until after he killed my brother.” Sam frowned. “My brother was much older than me, and I loved him greatly. When he announced he was going hunting, I wanted to go too. But I had been sick, and my father told me I had to remain in camp. I was angry and determined to prove myself. When my father was busy elsewhere, I snuck out.”

  He looked away toward the stand of trees. “I easily followed my brother, and when he heard me in the brush, he thought I was an elk or deer. I revealed myself just as he started to shoot. He was s
cared at first, but then angry. He told me I was a fool and that when our father learned what I had done, I would be severely punished. Distracted with me, he was unprepared when the bear attacked.”

  Sam returned his gaze to Grace. “The bear killed my brother. Had I not been disobedient, my brother would have been prepared.”

  “I’m so sorry.” She looked at the claw hanging from the end of the necklace. It was longer than she would have thought, and it was easy to see how claws like that could tear a man apart.

  Sam continued. “Once I had killed the bear, I ran back to camp for help. The men commended me. My father credited it to my ability to sense trouble or danger before it happened and apologized for having made me stay behind. He blamed himself for my brother’s death. I was looked upon as a hero, but I knew the truth, and I took this claw to remind myself of what having my own way had cost me. Years later I confessed to my father that my disobedience had caused my brother’s death and that I wasn’t a hero at all. He forgave me, but I will always be reminded of what it cost me.”

  Grace felt the weight of his words. She put the necklace on. “I’ll hang on to it for you and let it remind me as well.”

  He nodded and then gave her a smile. “I told Alex you were a smart woman, and now I see you can also accept correction. That is good. Only a fool refuses correction.”

  Sam left her and went to Alex, who sat against one of the trees. After a few minutes of discussion, Sam bounded onto his mount and was gone. Grace fingered the bear claw for a moment, then tucked it inside the bodice of her dress. She would go to Alex and beg his forgiveness. It was the right thing to do.

  He didn’t seem to hear her approach, but when Grace sat down beside him, he moved over without a word to give her the dryer patch of ground.

  “I’m sorry, Alex.” Those words seemed inadequate, so she continued. “I know you’re not a coward, and I know that I hurt you deeply by saying you were. I hope you’ll forgive me. It’s no excuse, but my fear got the best of me.”

  “I know,” he said, his voice soft and void of anger.

  For a moment Grace didn’t know what else to say. She hated the silence between them but felt it was important to wait for Alex to speak.

  “My brother called me a coward when our parents were trapped in our burning house and I refused to go inside to rescue them.”

  She now understood why that single word had caused such pain. “Can you tell me about it?” she asked gently.

  He looked at her for the first time since she’d joined him. Grace felt her breath catch and her heart beat faster. She could no longer deny the truth. She was in love with Alex. Seeing him so hurt only made her love him more.

  “The fire started after we’d all gone to bed for the night. I woke up to find my room filled with smoke. The stairway and far side of the house were engulfed in flames. I went across the hall to get my brother. He was just thirteen and slept through most anything.” He smiled sadly. “Sure enough, he was sound asleep. With the stairs on fire, I knew we’d have to escape by using the window. We got outside without any trouble, although by then both of us were coughing so hard we could hardly stand. I lowered Andy as far as I could and then dropped him. As the fire spread to our side of the house, I jumped to the ground to join him.

  “When we moved away from the house, it was easy to see that there would be no going back. However, when we realized our mother and father weren’t outside, Andy grew hysterical. He pleaded with me to rescue them.”

  Alex drew a deep breath and looked toward the grassy meadow. “I wanted to rescue them, but I knew it was too late. I told Andy as much, pointing out that the fire had started on their side of the house and already the roof and walls had given way. He told me I was a coward. I can still see the look on his face. I decided I would risk it and see if our parents could possibly be alive, but when I tried to move—I couldn’t. It wasn’t fear that held me back. I can’t explain it, but I couldn’t move.”

  “Perhaps God sent an angel to hold you back.”

  He looked again at Grace. “I suppose it’s possible, but my brother never forgave me. By then others had arrived. They had to keep my brother from going back into the house. I finally regained control of my body and went to talk to him, but he refused to have anything more to do with me. The next day we went to stay with our sister, and still he wouldn’t speak to me, but I heard him telling my sister what a coward I’d been. Fearing further harm might come to them, I left New Orleans and went to live with my grandfather for a time. He taught me to trap and hunt and . . . that’s how I’ve made my way these last ten years.”

  She shook her head in confusion. “Why would your being there cause them further harm?”

  Alex stiffened. “It’s not important.” It was clear he didn’t intend to say more.

  Grace decided not to push him. “I’m so sorry I brought that memory back to you.”

  He shook his head, and she’d never seen him look sadder. “You didn’t bring it back. It’s never left me.”

  Sam approached the Whitman Mission with great caution. For a while he observed the mission grounds from atop the sole hill that stood nearby. He could see numerous Cayuse moving about the area. There were even what appeared to be a couple of white men at the gristmill. Then he caught sight of two white women bringing water from the river. Perhaps the runner’s story had been exaggerated and no one had been killed.

  As he drew closer, however, Sam could see telltale signs of destruction. Pieces of furniture and dishes were strewn about. Several Cayuse women were wearing clothes that Sam was certain had belonged to Narcissa Whitman. Not far from the mission house was a settee covered in mud and blood.

  Several of the Cayuse braves caught sight of Sam and gave a wave of greeting. Sam forced a smile as Tomahas approached.

  “How are you, my brother?” Sam asked.

  “We have defeated that murderer Whitman. He is dead and will not poison our people again,” Tomahas replied.

  “And the others?”

  “We killed the men who helped Whitman.”

  “And their women? Their children?”

  Tomahas laughed. “They are our hostages. Except for Mrs. Whitman. We killed her too. She thought she was better than us.”

  Sam shook his head. “You have caused great pain to our people, for the soldiers are sure to come and kill us now.”

  “They won’t dare. We have their women and children. We will keep them prisoners until the white fathers agree to return the land to us and let our people live in peace.”

  Sam looked toward the mission house. “Where is Telokite? I’d like to speak with him.”

  Tomahas pointed to the gristmill at the edge of the pond. Sam nodded and without another word made his way across the grounds, ignoring the calls of other braves. When he passed the emigrant house, he could hear the sound of children crying. Apparently the Cayuse were keeping the women and children prisoner there.

  Telokite stood arguing with one of the Nez Perce lesser chiefs, who was pleading for the release of Eliza Spaulding to no avail. When the Nez Perce finally left, with tears in his eyes and shoulders slumped, Sam knew it would probably be futile to ask for the release of Hope and Mercy.

  “You have come to see our victory?” Telokite asked as he turned to Sam.

  “Is it a victory when it will surely spell the end of our people?”

  Telokite frowned. “The Boston men will hear our voices now. We will see them gone because they will know we are strong.”

  Sam shook his head. “I have spent much time in the company of the Boston men and the Black Robes. I have listened to their stories, and I understand their ways. They will not go. They will simply send more soldiers and more settlers.”

  “They will make peace with us,” Telokite assured. “We have the women and children to ensure that.”

  “They won’t believe you capable of peace.” Sam looked to the grinding stone, where two men he recognized as Daniel Young and Joseph Smith were working.
Were they truly the only white men left on the mission grounds? Beyond the pond at the Cayuse camp, movement caught Sam’s eye, and he saw one of Telokite’s sons taking Joseph’s fifteen-year-old daughter Mary with him into his lodge. She made no protest. “Your young men are taking the white women against their will?”

  Telokite followed Sam’s gaze and laughed. “Mary Smith is more than willing. Her father instructed her to go with my son to be his wife. Some of the other women are not so willing, but they have no choice. It is the way of war.”

  “But you just said you wanted peace. You told Alex and my father that you would not attack the mission and kill these people.”

  Telokite’s eyes narrowed, and Sam knew he had overstepped. “My youngest children died because Whitman poisoned them. Joe Lewis told me he heard this, and when he talked to the Black Robes, they agreed that Whitman would like us all dead.”

  “Joe has been known to lie.”

  Telokite shook his head. “Not this time.” He sized Sam up for a moment. “Why did you come?”

  Sam drew a deep breath. “I am here because of my friend—the white tewat woman who helped you when you asked her to come to the village.”

  “She was good woman. I did not see her among the prisoners.”

  “She wasn’t here. She had gone to help others who were sick. Her sisters are here, and she is worried that they are dead. I ask that you let them return with me.”

  “No. No one will leave. The women and children will stay until the white fathers promise not to punish the Cayuse.”

  “Can I at least see them so that I can tell Grace that they are all right?”

  Telokite seemed to consider this a moment. “I will allow it. They are in the house there.” He pointed to the emigrant house. “They are free to come and go, but most are too afraid. Come with me.” Telokite started toward the house, and Sam followed.

  When the women and children saw the two Indians enter the house, some of them began to weep. It was obvious that they had been sorely misused. Sam immediately spied Hope and Mercy across the room. Mercy had been combing the hair of a much younger child, but the small girl quickly left to join her mother. Mercy tucked up closer to Hope but said nothing. She simply watched Sam and Telokite while Hope stared at the wall. Both girls looked pale, gaunt, and as if they’d seen far too much. Mercy, although dirty, looked all right. Hope, on the other hand, had bruises on her face and blood on the front of her gown. The bodice of her dress was torn but had been tacked back into place. Sam had little doubt she had been molested.