Forever by Your Side (Willamette Brides #3) - Tracie Peterson Page 0,25

few minutes.

She smiled at the familiar smells and textures, and as she faded off in hazy dreams, she let contentment wash over her. What a peace there was in coming back to where she had once belonged—always belonged.

Tom caught Clint at his desk, sorting through a stack of papers. “Looks like you have more than enough to do.”

Clint seemed momentarily surprised. “There’s always so much paper work to do. The government is strict about everything being recorded . . . in triplicate. Right now, I’m registering rights of inheritance. The Indian people by law can only transfer property to other Indian peoples. In particular—family. But their families are sometimes so large and extended that figuring out who the direct descendant is can be complicated. We’re trying to arrange that ahead of time to make the transfers easier.”

“Makes sense to me.”

Clint looked past him at the closed door. “So Connie’s not coming?”

“You heard her yourself. She could see the reasoning behind us getting to know each other, and besides, she was exhausted. She’s napping, and I thought that would give us a chance to get better acquainted. I didn’t get a chance to tell you that I spent time with both your father and brother in Washington. They send their regards.”

Clint put the papers aside. “Thank you. I hope they were well when you left them.”

“Very much so. They were busy with their work for the Native peoples. They are greatly admired.”

“Yes.” Clint stood and started to reach for his jacket, then stopped. “It’s too warm for coats. You might want to discard your own as well.”

“So long as it won’t make the Indians think less of me,” Tom said, shrugging out of his coat.

“I have to tell you . . . they already think less of us. They aren’t happy to be under the care of the white man, nor do they wish to be our friends.”

“That’s sad. We could surely accomplish far more working as friends than as enemies.”

Clint shook his head. “They don’t really wish to accomplish anything with us. What they want is their freedom.”

“And who wouldn’t want that? We just fought a war over freeing black people from slavery. Why would we not understand that the Indians desire freedom as well?”

“I believe we understand it perfectly well,” Clint said, his voice taking on an edge. “It’s just not something we can accept.”

Tom scratched his chin. “Why do you suppose that is?”

“Simple. The Indians have been warring with us since we arrived on this continent.”

“Is that so hard to understand?” Tom asked. “After all, we are the uninvited guests who came in and took over. I would be of a mind to fight, should someone come to take for themselves what I perceived as open to all.”

“Well, it’s easy to see how you feel about the Indians.” Clint smiled and picked up his hat. “Let me show you around a little.”

Tom was surprised at the quick dismissal but said nothing. Connie had said that Clint was acting strange and she didn’t know why. She had wondered if it had to do with her and the past, or if it was about them coming to do a job of which Clint disapproved. Tom intended to find out.

“As you know, this is the government building. My quarters are in the back. Over there”—Clint pointed across the dirt road—“is the sutler’s store. It was originally set up when the army first arrived. The government allows each of the Indian families to have an account there. They can put money on the account from what they earn and then draw on it for their needs. Other things are disbursed to them throughout the year by the government.”

Tom nodded and sized up the men standing around outside the store. They were clearly Native Americans, but they were dressed from head to toe in common clothes like his. Not only that, but their hair had been cut short. He remembered the papers he’d read prior to taking on this new job. The government believed that the more the Native people assimilated and took on the white man’s ways, the better life would be for all concerned. He couldn’t see that it had benefited these men all that much.

“Over there is the Catholic church and school. The Father is very driven to help the Indian children. He speaks Chinook Wawa—the common language between all the tribes—but is working to teach the children English. We’ve tried hard to get them to speak English only, but