Forever by Your Side (Willamette Brides #3) - Tracie Peterson Page 0,38

take all that was left to these people of their history.

“I remember hearing the story of one Indian chief who had the power of a three-legged coyote,” Browning continued.

Connie turned to Tom. “The power of a coyote makes a person mean, but also cunning.”

“That’s right,” her father replied, smiling. “I’m surprised you remember that.”

She smiled and pushed back her plate. “I remember plenty.”

Browning seemed pleased by her response. “A professor at Willamette University got the body of this particular Indian chief and, shortly after that, became ill with a terrible disease. The Indians said it was the chief’s curse.”

Tom smiled. “And do you believe in curses?”

Browning nodded. “I do. The Bible says that Jesus became a curse for us. You see, taking on the sins of the world and being nailed to a tree left him cursed, but God resurrecting Him from the dead was a sure sign that God’s power was greater than any curse. Believe me when I say that I’ve seen things happen over the years that leave me little doubt that the evil one has power to cause any number of problems. However, I don’t believe God’s children have to worry about those kinds of things. Jesus took that on Himself to save us from it. Therefore, I don’t believe we can be cursed.”

“I just don’t believe in curses,” Tom said. “It seems like a bunch of superstitious nonsense.” He toyed with the last of his flapjacks. He decided to remind Mr. Browning of the tour he’d promised. “Are you still able to take me around your farm and show me your operation?”

Mr. Browning finished his coffee and nodded. “I’d be happy to. Then we’ll head over to the store. I can introduce you to whoever is hanging around there. That might give you a leg up when you start your interviews.” He got up from the table, then bent to kiss the top of his wife’s head. “I’ll see you ladies later this afternoon. Are you still having your sewing class this morning?”

“Yes. Same as usual,” Mrs. Browning replied, then looked at Tom. “I teach the women and girls to sew our fashions. I show them how to make patterns and cut the materials. They learn very quickly. I’ve even done some quilting with them. They really like making the more intricate blocks—they’re quite talented.”

“I’m sure they are.” Tom could imagine the women gathered around the table. “Connie, will you join us?”

“No. I’m going to help Mama clean up so she’ll have no delay with her class.” She rose and began gathering plates.

Tom watched her for a moment while Mr. Browning went to get his hat. She was so pretty, with the morning sun shining through the window. It made a circling glow around her like a halo. Not only that, but something had changed about her since coming home. She seemed happier, more peaceful.

“You ready, son?” Mr. Browning held his hat in one hand and Tom’s hat in the other. He held out the hat with a smile.

“Yes, sir,” Tom murmured, wondering if Mr. Browning had any idea how much Tom thought of his daughter.

“It’s a beautiful morning,” Mr. Browning declared. “I cherish days like this.”

Tom gazed out across the open field and a line of trees. The river was just beyond. “I do too. I love the fresh air. The city gets so full of coal soot. I weary of the stench at times.”

“I can well imagine. I once lived in a city too. Boston, to be exact.”

Tom wondered where they were going but said nothing as Browning walked toward the trees. As silence fell between them, Tom began to feel a little uncomfortable. He’d never been the kind of person who hated silence and had to fill it with conversation, but today he was exactly that person.

“What do you think of the upcoming election?” he asked out of desperation.

“Oh, not much. I’ve never met either man, so I can’t even be sure they actually exist,” Browning answered. “We hear very little out here at Grand Ronde and certainly never see the men involved. They could be raving lunatics, for all I know.”

“I’ve met them—both James Garfield and Winfield Hancock. I’ve heard them speak and know what they are for and against. I’d be happy to bear witness to their platforms for you.”

“No offense, son, but why should I believe you?” Browning stopped and looked at Tom with a smile. “I don’t know you either. Now, Connie vouches for you, and I’ve learned