out what she would wear. Faith only had a couple of winter outfits to choose from and settled on a dusty rose wool suit with a high-collared white blouse. Once she’d donned this, she let down her hair and brushed it out until it gleamed. Next, she began to curl it, and finally she pinned it up, doing her best to keep it simple yet stylish. When this was complete, she fastened a cameo her parents had given her for her thirtieth birthday to her collar and then pulled on the outfit’s matching jacket.
She looked again at her reflection. There wasn’t even a hint of an Indian staring back at her, yet Faith couldn’t help but frown. The lie was getting harder and harder to stomach, especially in light of all she’d said in her lecture. How could she convince others to see Indians and whites as the same when she didn’t see it that way herself? Yet to confess the truth would ruin her mother’s reputation as well. After all, while people may have surmised that the women of the Whitman Mission were raped, no one spoke of it. The gentler phrase were forced to be wives to the Indians was always used when speaking of what had happened, and of course no one mentioned any children conceived from that ordeal. Faith had to believe other women had gotten pregnant, and yet no one ever admitted as much. Had they sought out a midwife and gotten rid of their babies? Had they had them as her mother had and given them up—sent them away? Perhaps they had miscarried from the stress, but the fact was that no one mentioned any child being born out of that situation. If Faith were to speak openly of her ancestry, what might the repercussions be?
Finishing with her toilette, Faith dabbed a bit of perfume behind each ear. She so seldom wore the expensive scent that she felt almost ridiculous using it now. Perhaps Andrew would think her silly for her manner of dress and hair arrangement, not to mention the perfume. She hesitated, wondering if she should just change back to her uniform.
“Hello?” Mrs. Weaver’s voice called from the hall.
“Hello, Mrs. Weaver.” Faith opened her bedroom door. “I’m going to have lunch with Captain Andrew on his boat. What do you think?” She gave a twirl.
The old woman smiled. “You look lovely. I believe your captain will be pleased.”
Faith started to correct Mrs. Weaver that the captain was hardly hers, but she knew it would do little good. “What can I do for you?”
“I heard you speak to someone at the door.”
“It was just a delivery boy bringing me a message from the captain.”
“Oh, well, that’s fine. I’m sorry to bother you when you’re all dressed up, but it’s Alma. She has a sore throat that’s gotten much worse, and now she’s running a fever.”
Faith nodded. “Let me come and examine her.”
“I was hoping you might do exactly that.”
Retrieving her black bag, Faith followed Mrs. Weaver upstairs and found Alma resting in bed. The tiny black woman looked worn out.
“I’m sorry to hear that you’re unwell, Alma. I will try to determine what’s wrong and see if we can find a treatment. How long has your throat been sore?”
“Started last night. I thought maybe I just needed to drink more water. It didn’t help, and then came the fever after breakfast.”
Faith quickly looked at Alma’s throat and then checked her glands, as well as her ears and nose. Lastly, Faith listened to her heart. It had been recently discussed in class that several cases of measles had been reported in the city, but Faith saw no sign of this.
“It’s hard to tell at this point, but we’ll treat it as best we can.” Faith reached into her bag and pulled out a small bottle. “Gargle this solution at least five times a day. Then drink willow bark tea. I know Nancy keeps some in the kitchen cupboard. Make it strong at first and add honey. Above all else, stay in bed and rest. I’ll check on you again when I return home and see how you’re feeling.”
“Thank you,” Alma said, her voice scratchy and weak.
“I’ll see that she does as you’ve instructed.” Mrs. Weaver looked worried. “I couldn’t bear for anything to happen to her.”
“Well, hopefully we have caught it soon enough, and it won’t develop into anything else. However, keep an eye open for a rash, just in case it’s measles or