Forever by Your Side (Willamette Brides #3) - Tracie Peterson Page 0,57
“I tell you, Isaac has worked hard to make those pastures perfect. He walked every inch, planted good grass seed, and got rid of any poisonous vegetation.”
“That’s the workings of a good shepherd,” Faith offered.
“He plans to get a good sheepdog too. We have promised him the pick of the litter when Dilly has her pups,” Aunt Hope announced. “But that won’t help in the immediate future. Hopefully we’ll be able to locate one already trained. We’ve advertised in several newspapers. Even the one in Salem, since it’s closer than Portland and Oregon City.”
“It’ll be nice to have a dog around the place. When our old spaniel died, we just never got around to getting another. There are so many dogs on the reservation as it is.”
“Well, a good sheepdog is worth his weight in gold. He’ll keep the sheep contained and safe. Hopefully we can find one soon.” Hope looked at Connie. “I understand you’re here to record information about the various tribes.”
“I am. Tom and I were hired by the Bureau of Ethnology to document all of the Indians on the reservations here in Oregon. For the time being, we’re assigned to the Grand Ronde, Warm Springs, and Siletz Reservations. We chose to start here so that I could be near my family.” She didn’t know how much she could say about her personal investigation. The fewer people who knew, the better, but at the same time she was pretty confident the family was already well aware of what her mother and father were being accused of.
“It sounds like quite the task.”
Connie knew Aunt Hope had gone through terrible things at the hands of the Cayuse Indians when they had massacred the men and one woman at the Whitman Mission back in 1847. Connie had heard the story from her mother only once, and then it was never mentioned again. She often wondered what Aunt Hope thought of Mama’s devotion to the Indians. After all, her mother had been at the mission as well but hadn’t suffered the things Aunt Hope suffered. Aunt Grace had once told Connie that her mother had more mercy and forgiveness than she or Hope put together and that neither were surprised when Mercy made the announcement that she wanted to work with the Indians. Connie could only imagine the things her mother and aunts had seen in the past thirty-some years. How the world had changed since the 1840s.
“You seem lost in thought, Connie.”
She shook off her thoughts. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“No harm done.” Aunt Hope gave her a smile. “We can talk about your mission after lunch. You wrote and said that there was a problem with sickness on the reservation. Has that passed now?” she asked her sister.
“Did you ever figure out what the sickness was?” Faith asked.
Mama shook her head. “Not exactly. The agent had to send for the reservation doctor—not that the people wanted to use him, but so many were ill that Clint worried it was an epidemic of some sort. The people thought they’d been poisoned by bad flour, but the doctor assured them it wasn’t the fault of the food. I’m not convinced. It could have been a summer malady. Those things happen all the time. However, it really did act more like food poisoning. Even the doctor was hard-pressed to give it a name. Everyone is doing better now, so at least no one is calling to kill anyone.”
“What are you talking about?” Hope asked.
Mama waved to the living room. “Why don’t we sit? I have stew simmering on the stove and bread warming. When the guys come back, we can eat.”
Connie followed her mother and aunt to the front room and explained, “The Indians often kill the medicine people if they fail to heal. I suppose it ensures that the healers do their best.”
Her mother took a seat. “It’s true. You must remember that was part of the problem at the Whitman Mission.”
Hope gave a solemn nod. “I had forgotten, but now I remember. The chief’s children died from measles, and he blamed Dr. Whitman.”
She and Connie’s mother exchanged a glance, and in that moment, they were connected in a way that excluded Connie and Faith.
“So many Cayuse were sick,” Mama declared. “It was a bad time for everyone. Grace even went to the Cayuse village to do what she could. It didn’t sit well with Dr. Whitman, but Grace didn’t care.”