Forever by Your Side (Willamette Brides #3) - Tracie Peterson Page 0,53

body is expending all its energy on healing, and that takes a toll. Resting is the very best thing for him. I think in another few months, you’ll be surprised at just how much better he’ll be.”

Nancy nodded but wasn’t all that convinced. After reading Connie’s letter, she wondered if the next few months would hold anything but pain and sorrow.

“We’re leaving now,” Mrs. Weaver said from the arched doorway. Behind her stood Alma and their new friend, Ruth. Ruth and Alma had become the best of friends. Their pasts were very similar. Both had been slaves from the time of birth, and both had been set free with no place to go. Their former owners had been merciful, but in Ruth’s case, her owner had died shortly after moving to Oregon from California.

Nancy went to Alma and took her hand. “I’m so proud of you for leaving the house and going to this fellowship.”

“I’m scared,” she admitted, “but we prayed, and I know the Lord will be with us.” She looked to Mrs. Weaver and then Ruth.

“She’ll be very safe and welcomed,” Ruth declared. “Come on now, Alma. We’d best go, or we’ll be late.”

“Are the Clifton sisters still meeting you, Mrs. Weaver?” Alma asked. It had earlier been determined that Mrs. Weaver would walk with Ruth and Alma to the church, and then the Misses Clifton would pick her up in the carriage to go shopping for fabric.

“They are, bless them.” Mrs. Weaver looked at her longtime companion. “I’ll be praying the whole time. I couldn’t bear it if someone hurt you.”

Alma smiled. “The Lord is with us, and we’ve got nothin’ to fear.”

Connie kept thinking about Reverend Summers forcing the Indians to sell their artifacts. One woman had told Connie that she faced him at the gate to her yard and told him she had nothing for him to buy. The reverend had pushed her aside and gone into her house uninvited. There he had gathered up the things he wanted and given her what he thought they were worth. It angered Connie to no end, and she thought it was time to confront Clint about it.

Her father had offered to take Tom on a ride to the far side of the reservation, so Connie saw it as the perfect time. She marched over to Clint’s office and pounded on the door. Clint showed up within seconds.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” He grinned. “And my, don’t you look pretty today.”

She was wearing a forest-green calico with hints of yellow and orange. It wasn’t anything special. “Thank you, but getting compliments isn’t why I came here today.”

“Well, why don’t you come into my office and tell me why you did come?” Clint stepped back to give her room to pass.

She made her way in and stood waiting at the corner of his desk, hands on her hips. “What are you going to do about Reverend Summers?”

“What are you talking about?” Clint sat down. “Why don’t you sit and tell me what has you so upset?”

Connie shook her head. “I’ll stand, thank you. I’m talking about the way Reverend Summers comes here and forces people to sell their artifacts and heirlooms. It’s wrong, Clint, and you know it.”

“I’m not happy about it either, but there’s nothing I can do about it. He’s good friends with the governor. He also sells those artifacts to some wealthy and powerful collectors. You aren’t going to get much support to stop him.”

“We’ve taken everything else from these people, and now you’re taking away their family history. It’s wrong to let this go on.” He watched her with great interest. Connie felt as if he was dismissing the entire situation and focusing on her appearance. “Clint, are you even listening to me?”

He grinned. “Well, it is hard to listen when you’re standing there being so delightfully pretty.”

She rolled her gaze to the ceiling and huffed. “You are no help at all.”

“After that kiss the other day, I’ve had a hard time thinking of anything else.”

“Oh, for grief’s sake. That kiss meant nothing.” And she realized the truth of it the moment she spoke the words. “I don’t want to start anything with you, Clint. Those childish infatuations have been buried with the past.”

She felt a sense of peace flow over her. Clint was just a friend from the past. She neither regretted nor esteemed him. He simply . . . was.

He was frowning as she continued. “I might have had feelings for