wasn’t worried, however. Something about Ben made her feel as if she were with family. “This is very good, Ben. Thank you.”
“You plenty welcome, Miss Faith.” He gave her a smile, then looked at Andrew. “You can stop worrying now. She gonna be well soon. She very strong.”
“She is that,” Andrew said, glancing back at her as he stood. “I need to check on a few things. I hope you don’t mind. Just rest and drink your tea. I’ll be back in a while.”
“What time is it?” Faith glanced around the room for a clock.
“It’s nearly four-thirty. I promise I’ll get you home before much longer. After I see to the ship, I’ll figure out a way to get you back to your family.”
She nodded and took another sip of tea. Already she could feel the pain diminishing. It was probably more the company than the willow bark, but it was welcome no matter the source.
“She looks good,” Ben said as he and Andrew made their way down below.
“She might not even be alive if not for you. You did a good job, Grandfather.” Andrew put his hand on Ben’s shoulder. He spoke in Nez Perce, knowing it pleased the old man. “I am grateful for your skills. You have helped my friend, and it has made my heart glad.”
“She is more than a friend, I think. I think your heart is glad for reasons that you will not speak.” The old man smiled and turned to leave. “I think your heart has found love.”
Andrew watched his grandfather walk away and knew he had spoken the truth. He had fallen in love with Faith Kenner. He had carefully protected his heart all of his life, for all the good it did him. He knew the limitations and problems he could face as the laws of the land became more and more stringent in regard to bloodlines. The Civil War had only deepened the hatred of races mixing, and now most states had laws about people of various races intermarrying. Oregon’s laws were quite strict.
Andrew’s father had been half Assiniboine or Hohe and half English, a fur trapper who’d fallen in love with a woman who was part white, part Nez Perce and Cayuse. Her father was Benjamin Littlefoot. That left Andrew few choices when it came to marriage, and none of them included a white woman like Faith Kenner.
He drew a deep breath and thought of how much she fascinated him—how quickly she’d managed to win him without even trying. He wanted to spend his life with her—to never leave her side. He wanted to watch her use her skills as a fine surgeon. He wanted to talk to her about all those great books she’d read and how she’d come to understand in ten years what it had taken a schooled man of God decades to learn.
A band seemed to form around his chest. You can never have her for your wife. She’s not for the likes of a mixed breed riverboat captain, a familiar accusing voice said from deep inside him. You have nothing to offer her. Nothing at all.
Gerome Berkshire sat across from Samuel Lakewood, frustrated that the older man wouldn’t hear him out.
“If we do things my way, we can lay low for a time and let others take the blame for the guns and whiskey. Once they’re arrested and put in jail, we can go back to our plans.”
“How easily you sell out your friends,” Lakewood said, shaking his head. “The fact of the matter is that right now Portland needs our attention.”
“But listen to me, please. The destruction from the storm is the perfect chaos to push our plans forward. With all of this mess tying up the legal authorities as well as the army, we can move a great many firearms to the reservation at Warm Springs and let those being sent to Grand Ronde be discovered. It wouldn’t be the new guns, just the old ones that are missing all their firing pins. Think of it. It would allow me to give the army something that would make them trust that I’m truly working for them. Otherwise I’m afraid they’re going to throw me in jail for not giving them more useful information.”
“We don’t even know if those places were affected by the storm,” Lakewood countered. “They may both have suffered as we have.”
“It seems unlikely that a storm would cover such a distance. Why don’t we get someone to ride out