Cherished Mercy Read online

  Mercy nodded. “Eletta said that in one of her letters earlier this year.”

  “He’s been a tremendous help. There are often times when I must leave the mission, trips like this one either to retrieve supplies . . . or people.” He smiled and continued. “I feel confident leaving Adam with Eletta and Faith. He, however, often travels into the surrounding areas to preach to some of the other tribes.”

  “What happens if you both need to be gone from the mission at the same time?” Alex asked.

  Isaac took a drink of the hot coffee Sadie had served before answering. “I have had to leave the girls there alone, but the Tututni provided safety and assistance in every way. I’m not afraid to leave Eletta and Faith there when it’s absolutely necessary.”

  “That truly speaks to your confidence in the natives there,” Alex said. “I can’t imagine you leaving them if there was a threat.”

  “Indeed no.” Isaac turned back to Sadie, smiling. “Adam sends his love and a request for your sourdough bread. And he said if you were feeling particularly generous, he’d love some of your shortbread as well.”

  The older woman chuckled. “I guess I’d best get to baking.”

  “The army won’t be ready to leave for several days,” Isaac reminded her, “so I think you’ll have plenty of time.”

  “I’d love to help you.” Mercy wasn’t sure if Sadie would welcome her offer or not, but she felt compelled to make it all the same. “This sourdough bread was delicious, and I’ve never made shortbread. I’d love to learn your recipe.”

  “Your help and company would be much appreciated. Adam can eat his weight in shortbread,” Sadie replied. “We’ll get started on it in the morning.”

  “Tell me more about this brother of yours,” Alex said to Isaac, finishing off the contents in his bowl. He picked up a piece of Sadie’s sourdough bread and sopped up the remaining broth.

  “He’s grown up to be quite a credit to our family. He graduated from Harvard after studying theology and European history. After that, he returned to our native Georgia, where he immediately went to work with a longtime friend of the family.”

  “Doing what?” Alex asked.

  “Preaching. He has a definite passion to see the lost brought to salvation,” Isaac replied. “Adam’s brilliant, much smarter than I ever was. He earned top marks in all of his classes and memorized a large portion of Scripture. Not only that, he has a way of speaking and teaching that draws folks to him. His love of the Word is evident in all of his sermons.”

  Mercy covered a yawn, then asked, “Is he your only sibling?”

  “No. We have two sisters between us. Adam and I are bookends, our mother used to say. Our sisters are married with children of their own. They both still live in Georgia.” He shook his head. “I haven’t seen them in nearly ten years.”

  “And your folks?” Alex asked, pushing back his bowl.

  “Both are gone now.”

  Fighting another yawn, Mercy bowed her head. She didn’t want to be rude, but if she didn’t excuse herself soon, she was going to fall asleep at the table.

  “I think our young gal here needs a bed more than a piece of pie,” Sadie declared. “Am I right?”

  Mercy looked up and nodded. “I do apologize. I didn’t sleep much last night, what with the storm. However, I don’t want to leave you to clean up by yourself.”

  “Nonsense.” Sadie got up from the table. “You come along with me. I’ll show you the washroom and where the privy is. You have a basin in your room if the need arises in the night.”

  Following on feet that felt leaden, Mercy bid the others good night. Sadie rambled on about the house, but none of it made a bit of sense to Mercy. After a few minutes, Sadie seemed to realize this and just smiled.

  She picked up a lighted candle in a decorative tin from a small table in the hall and handed it to Mercy. “Get on upstairs with you, and don’t you worry about waking up any too soon. There will no doubt be plenty of ruckus going on in the store, which is right under your room, but we won’t open until seven, so you should have plenty of time to get your sleep out.”

  “Thank you so much. I appreciate all that you’ve done.”

  “Pshaw! Ain’t nothin’ to it. Just doing what the Lord would have us do. Feeding the hungry, giving drink to the thirsty.”

  Mercy smiled. “And a bed to the exhausted.”

  A week later, Alex prepared to board The Calliope and return to Oregon City. The weather had been bad enough to keep everyone under cover, but now that the worst seemed to have passed, everyone was eager to get on with their business. With the sun warming the air and drying out the ground, the army too was anxious to be on the move.

  Mercy hated to admit it, but Alex’s plan to return home made her uncomfortable. She knew he longed to be with Grace and the children, and to get back to his work at the lumber mill. No doubt Uncle Edward missed his help. Still, it was hard to see him go. Sadie and Ephraim had been wonderful company, and Isaac was always kind and considerate of her needs, but Alex was her last connection to her sisters. At no time in her life had Mercy been separated from both of them as she was now.

  She didn’t want to worry Alex. He’d been so good to come this far with her. She would just have to be strong. Tears threatened, but she was determined not to cry. “Don’t forget to give Hope and Grace their letters from me.”

  Alex patted his pocket. “I have them right here, along with the shortbread you made.”

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Tell them I’ll be home in the spring.”

  He smiled and put his hand on her shoulder. “You’re going to be just fine. I might have had questions coming down here, but I’ve been praying about it, and God’s given me peace. I think you’re going to be amazed at what He shows you here.”

  “I’m sure you’re right. Oh, I nearly forgot.” Mercy reached into her pocket. “This letter is for Beth. I tried to write her some words of encouragement. I’d like you to read it, Alex. If you think it the wrong advice, then just discard it. Otherwise, I’d appreciate it if you could deliver it to her.”

  “I will.” He reached into his coat and put the letter with the others. He gave Mercy a smile. “Don’t look so forlorn. God’s got you right where He wants you.”

  “Looks like they’re ready for you to come aboard, Alex,” Isaac announced, coming to join them. “Tell your wife and sister-in-law that Mercy is in good hands. Between me and Adam, she’ll be well cared for.”

  Alex and Isaac shook hands, then embraced almost as an afterthought. “Mercy’s not nearly the trouble her sisters are,” Alex declared. He threw her a teasing smile. “She’s the calmest of the three Flanagan sisters.”

  Isaac actually laughed. “I know it well. Thanks again for all the supplies you brought down. Adam will be glad for the McGuffey Readers, and Eletta will cherish the flannel.”

  “We’re glad to help.” Alex turned back to Mercy to embrace her. “I love you, little sister. You’ll be in my prayers.”

  Mercy stood nodding as he let her go. She knew Alex was right. She was where she needed to be—where God wanted her. Now if she could just get on with the job of caring for Eletta and Faith, Mercy knew she’d finally feel settled.

  Chapter

  4

  The army was ready to march two days later. Mercy had heard one of the soldiers say it was only about twenty miles to Gold Beach as the crow might fly, but it would be much longer on foot. There were hills and rocky crags to be managed, not to mention thick forested land that looked like no man had ever gone there before. Isaac had thought they might be able to board a shallow draft schooner and sail to Gold Beach, but then the weather turned cold and rainy again, with winds that drove the dampness into one’s bones.

  Mercy was grateful for her heavy wool coat and sturdy boots. She had very carefully chosen the things she brought with her, and was glad now that Grace had insisted she take gloves and a scarf. She feared that as the days passed, the temperature would cont
inue to drop.

  “Looks like they’re ready to head out,” Isaac said, returning to her side after speaking to one of the officers. “The army’s found a place for your trunk, as well as all my supplies.”

  Mercy had put her most needed possessions in a knapsack that she wore slung over her shoulder. In it she also carried Hope’s revolver, figuring it wouldn’t be much use to her if it was packed away in her trunk.

  “Some of the Gold Beach militia are heading back with us.” Isaac motioned to several men with packs and rifles on their backs. “They can be a rowdy bunch, so I’d avoid contact with them if I were you.”

  Mercy noticed that one handsome bearded man seemed to be watching her. When her eyes met his, he grinned. Mercy looked away.

  “How long will it take to get back to the mission from Ellensburg?” She could feel the warmth in her face despite the cold.

  “That’ll depend on arranging a ride up the river. There’s always someone going up the Rogue. Miners or militia usually, but it shouldn’t be too hard to trade goods for a ride. Especially since I can help paddle. Once we’re on the river, it shouldn’t take us much more than a day.”

  She nodded and tried to keep her thoughts focused, but the man who’d smiled at her was making his way toward them.

  “Mr. Browning,” he said, reaching them, “remember me? I’m Billy Caxton.”

  Isaac stiffened. “I do. I see you and your friends are heading back to Ellensburg with us.”

  “Yeah, we got picked to retrieve supplies. Store there was out of most everything. Especially ammunition.”

  Mercy could tell that Isaac was being guarded with his words. Billy, on the other hand, had no difficulty speaking his mind.

  “I saw you standing here with this pretty little gal and figured I should come and make her acquaintance.”

  Isaac cast a sidelong glance at Mercy. “This is Miss Flanagan, a good friend of our family. She’s come to help my wife. Mercy, I believe you heard his introduction. This is William Caxton.”

  “Billy to my friends.” He swept off his hat and gave a bow. “Miss Flanagan, this is purely a pleasure. I do hope you’ll stay for a long while. The mission isn’t all that far from one of our camps.”

  “Mr. Caxton.” She gave him a nod but refrained from saying anything more. She had no desire to mislead him or make him think her a flirt. It was bad enough he’d caught her looking at him. Worse yet was the sense of danger that seemed to accompany him.

  “I have to say, we haven’t had a pretty gal like you around for some time,” Billy continued.

  “Billy, you’d better get back over here and tend to business,” one of his cohorts called from across the yard.

  Mercy breathed a sigh of relief when Billy tipped his hat and turned to go. She was about to speak to Isaac when Billy stopped and whirled back to face her.

  “I plan to see to it that we become good friends.” He grinned in his self-confident manner then finally rejoined his friends.

  Mercy looked at Isaac, who wore an expression of distaste. “Is something wrong?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve never cared for that young man. He’s trouble, and I hope you’ll steer clear of him.”

  “You needn’t worry. I have no interest in Mr. Caxton whatsoever.” She felt some satisfaction in having her feeling of danger confirmed. He might have a handsome face, but it was the heart that mattered. Her grandmother used to say, “Handsome is as handsome does.” Only time would tell if Billy’s dashing good looks came with an equally good heart. Mercy didn’t hold out much interest or hope. Isaac didn’t like him, and there had to be good reason.

  Unfortunately, in the days to come, despite her guarded response, Billy Caxton seemed anxious to deepen their acquaintance. He often appeared in step beside her on the trail, regaling her with stories of his adventures in the wilds of Oregon and California. Because of the bad weather and poor trails, the journey seemed to take forever.

  “There’s plenty of gold to be had,” Billy told her for the tenth time. “When we get this Indian trouble under control, we can get back to doin’ what we came for.”

  Mercy didn’t want to encourage the conversation but found herself questioning him before she gave it much thought. “What is your part in these ‘Indian troubles,’ as you call them?”

  “Plenty. My friends and me are part of the private militia. Government’s payin’ us good money to kill Indians.”

  She had tried to keep her thoughts and feelings to herself on this trip, but his comment sent a shiver down her spine. Billy mistook it for fear.

  “You don’t need to be afraid, Miss Flanagan. I’ll protect you.”

  “I’m not afraid. I find your attitude distasteful.”

  He frowned. “So I suppose you’re an Injun lover like your friends the Brownings?”

  “I neither love nor hate them.”

  “That’s because you haven’t experienced what they can do. If ever you see up close how they steal and murder, you’d change your tune.”

  She stopped and fixed him with a look of disdain. “Mr. Caxton, you know nothing about what I have or haven’t experienced. I urge you to keep your judgments to yourself.” She picked up her pace again, hoping he’d get the idea and leave her be.

  “No, I don’t know much about you,” he said, easily matching her stride, “but I want to. I think I’ve plum lost my heart to you. Fact is, I’m dyin’ of love for you.” He leaned in as if to steal a kiss.

  She gave him a push so hard that he landed on his backside. “Well, do your dying somewhere else.” She walked away as Billy’s companions laughed.

  Isaac hurried to her side, casting several backward glances at the militiamen. “Is there a problem?”

  Mercy looked over her shoulder just to make sure Isaac hadn’t seen something she’d missed. Billy was back on his feet, but he stared after her with a look of shock and anger. Given his handsome looks, Mercy figured he wasn’t used to rejection.

  “No. No problem. I was just replying to something Mr. Caxton said.”

  “If he’s bothering you, Mercy, I’ll have a talk with him.”

  She looked up and smiled. “That isn’t necessary. He’s not saying anything I haven’t heard before. I’ll be glad when this territory starts bringing in as many single women as they do sheep and cattle.”

  Isaac laughed. “I’m sure Billy Caxton feels the same way.”

  “He’s not shy about sharing his feelings, that’s for sure. He holds the native people a grudge.”

  “And do you feel the same?”

  It was an honest question, and coming from Isaac, Mercy knew the intent was only to learn her heart on the matter. Not to condemn or approve her one way or the other.

  “At one time I did truly hate them for they’d done to us at the Whitman Mission.” She frowned and pushed aside the memories that were ever at the back of her mind. “But I can honestly say that God has helped me to better understand their plight. The trial five years ago to condemn the men responsible for the massacre left me with a sour taste in my mouth where revenge is concerned. I can’t see that it helps anything, and instead I actually pity the Indians. I suppose that’s something Mr. Caxton will never understand.”

  “No, I don’t imagine so,” Isaac replied, sobering. “A friend of his was killed down on the Rogue River. It was a misunderstanding over a bottle of liquor, as I understand it, but the man who shot his friend was a Shasta brave. It set Billy on a path of revenge, I’m afraid.”

  “So that’s why he’s trouble?”

  “That and other things I’ve heard. He doesn’t respect folks, and he certainly has no interest in God. In fact, he seems to pride himself on thwarting God and our efforts for peace. He’s put out rumors among the tribes that we’re only here to steal their children and souls.”

  “I figured as much.” She hugged her arms close to fight the chill of the damp wind. “I hope we can have a fire tonight. I’m nearly frozen.”

  Isaac glanced around
the wooded area they were marching through. “I doubt it. The captain said there’s been trouble just to the east. I’m sure they’ll want to keep a cold camp so as not to attract attention. A fire might bring some Indians to see what’s happening. If they’re hostile, they might make trouble. And if they’re friendly . . . well, Billy and his friends will make trouble.”

  Mercy could see the worry in Isaac’s expression. For all his talk about their safety, she knew he was concerned. She glanced at the dark woods, wondering what dangers lurked there. She couldn’t help but think back to the Whitman Mission. It had been this same time of year when the massacre took place. She shivered again and bit her lower lip. Would she soon find herself in the same situation as she’d been in that November?

  She’d only been a child—still recovering from a bout of measles. The same measles that had taken the life of so many of the Cayuse people. Especially the children. Dr. Whitman had been unable to save very many of the Indians, and they blamed him. In fact, Chief Telokite had accused Whitman of actually poisoning his people. It was this that had led to the attack—at least it was the excuse given.

  Determined not to focus on such horrors, Mercy began to pray. As always, she prayed that God would protect those she loved and that somehow the Indians and whites could learn to live in harmony. It didn’t seem like too much to ask. After all, God had created both, and He was all-powerful. Surely He would want them to live in peace as well. Wouldn’t He?

  Gold Beach was not that different from Port Orford, just smaller. Businesses and unpainted homes left little doubt the whites had established the area for themselves. Here, Mercy found even more miners turned volunteer militiamen and an ever-growing hatred of any and all Indians. Two men had even taken it upon themselves to start building a fort with an earthen barrier for protection, although most people in town thought it unnecessary.

  The townsfolk seemed friendly enough. There were a few families in the immediate area, and still others on farms nearby. The greater part of the population, however, were men who had come to mine the area for gold. Mercy had more than her share of attention and was relieved when Isaac told her they’d immediately head upriver. She was less enthusiastic, however, when she found out that Billy Caxton would be traveling with them. In fact, it was Billy and his friends who had the canoes and had offered to transport Mercy and Isaac for free. One of their volunteer militia camps was set up at Big Bend, not all that far from the Browning mission, so it seemed only logical to accept their offer.