The One Who Waits for Me

by Lori Copeland

  Closing her eyes, she prayed softly, “Grant these two free spirits safety, Father.”

  She had no knowledge of their problem or what had brought the young women to the abbey. She only knew for certain that nothing was by accident. She glanced at the closed door, smothering a grin.

  Spunk. Those two had spunk.

  Laughing quietly to herself, she walked on. There was something about spunk that never failed to put a smile on her lips.

  Adjusting her cumbersome wimple, Beth parted the brush and peered out. Nothing stirred in the mid-morning air. There was no sign of Bear or Walt.

  Blackbirds flew overhead. Squirrels scrambled along tree limbs.

  “All clear,” Beth whispered.

  Stepping onto the rutted road, they both paused. “We’ll only walk a short distance and then we’ll go back to the thicket.” It was a daring move, but Joanie was already gasping from her allergies to the vegetation, and the heat didn’t help. Once she had a breath of fresh air they would return to the woods for safer travel. From that point, Beth wasn’t certain of their next move, only that for now they had to keep moving. She had no idea how far they would need to walk to reach a settlement. She had no idea if there even was a nearby town. She’d heard Pa speak of purchasing goods and food supplies each month at a mercantile. If they could find one of those, they could at least get a few things.

  She wasn’t overly fond of showing themselves in public, but between the choice of returning to a life of slavery with Walt or finding a community to get what they needed, she decided the risk for freedom was worth it.

  The women walked down the road, sweating beneath the heavy black robes. How did those nuns wear these hot outfits every day? Did sweating make them godlier? Beth laughed at the thought. If that were true, picking cotton in the hot sun made her an angel!

  And if there was anything she wasn’t, it was an angel.

  Eleven

  Pierce reined up when Gray Eagle lifted a hand. The Indian’s coal-black eyes assessed the road. “Women’s footprints—or children.”

  Dismounting and removing his hat, the captain wiped sweat from his forehead. “Could be children on their way to play in the creek.”

  The scout shook his head. “Women.” He pointed to the dusty trail. “See. The hems of their dresses brush the ground.”

  Pierce’s eyes roamed the heavy undergrowth. “If I recall, there’s an old abbey nearby. Most likely some of the sisters out for an early morning walk.”

  Gray Eagle dismounted and knelt beside the dusty tracks. His fingers lightly brushed over them. “Do these sisters wear heavy boots?”

  The captain shook his head. “I’m not Catholic. I don’t know what they wear.”

  “They don’t,” Gray Eagle said. “These are our hummingbirds.”

  Pierce scanned the area and replaced his hat. “Beth and Joanie were wearing boots, but they were also wearing men’s clothing if you recall.” His thoughts shifted to Beth. He had a hunch that woman could change like a chameleon. Quiet women made him edgy. “We’ll follow the trail a while longer. If we can’t find them, then we’ve done what we can to help.” Leather creaked as he remounted. His patience was wearing thin. He didn’t mind helping when it was needed, but these two were a little too independent.

  Turning from the road and back to the thicket, Beth forged a path. Soon they came across a bubbling stream, where they dropped to their stomachs and drank their fill of the crisp, cool water. Joanie’s coughs shook her frail body. Surely if Bear or Walt were close by they would hear her. The thought had no more than left her mind than she heard the sound she had been dreading—hoofbeats.

  Joanie lifted her face from the creek bed.

  Beth saw tears forming in her eyes.

  “It’s them,” her sister whispered.

  The riders grew closer. This time they really would need a grizzly to help because Joanie simply didn’t have the strength to outrun them. Getting to her feet, Beth’s eyes searched the undergrowth. Walt and Bear might recapture them, but she intended to put a sizeable knot on each of their heads before she surrendered. “Joanie,” she whispered. “Hurry. Help me find some kind of a weapon.”

  Joanie slowly got to her feet, coughing. “I can’t…”

  “We have to gather some large rocks. Something I can throw.”

  Joanie’s eyes met hers.

  “Do as I say.” Beth paused, noting the pale color of her sister’s cheeks. “If you’re able.”

  Gingerly, Joanie moved alongside her. The women worked to fashion a pile of rocks as the riders drew closer. Her uncle would likely be so angry he’d take the bull whip to her right there, but Beth didn’t care. She’d make him wish he’d forgotten all about her.

  Hunkered down and waiting for the best shot as the riders approached, she could only hope they hadn’t already spotted the black robes and wimples, but common sense told her the wish would be as effective as spitting into the wind to put out a fire.

  “I can throw,” Joanie wheezed.

  “I’ll do the throwing. I don’t want him to have any reason to beat you too.”

  “It won’t matter if I throw or not.”

  Beth knew she was right, but that didn’t stop her from hoping to shield Joanie from another thrashing.

  “Joanie,” Beth said as her pulse kicked into high gear.

  “Yes?”

  “If you’re sure there’s a God, it would be real smart to ask for a little help right now.”

  Nodding, Joanie closed her eyes and Beth saw her lips move. She caught snatches of the conversation. “He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust: his truth shall be thy shield and buckler…”

  The two riders drew even with the women, and she heard them suddenly rein up. They were close, but she dared not lift her head to look at them lest they see her.

  “Enough praying. Start throwing,” Beth murmured.

  The women stood up and let fly.

  Yells rang out as rocks found their mark.

  “You may want us, but you’re going to have to come get us!” Beth yelled. She threw a sizable stone that produced a substantial curse. Shame on Uncle Walt’s language!

  Granite ammunition flew. Men’s angry shouts drew closer. Oh, they would be in for the beating of their lives, but it was worth it to hear Bear’s cries of pain.

  Twelve

  A good-sized rock came close to grazing Pierce’s temple and he flinched. The woman had already hit him in the leg and the stomach. Time to end this. He slid out of the saddle and stalked into the undergrowth. Beth let go with another rock, obviously determined to meet the enemy head-on. Turning, she grasped a handful of smaller stones, whirled blindly, and looked ready to fling them at her tormentor. Obviously, she wasn’t going down without a fight.

  Pierce blocked her arm midair. She paused, staring into his blue eyes. His tone puzzled her, calm as still water. “What are you doing now, Miss Beth?”

  Fear, then elation, filled her face as she realized he wasn’t her cousin or her uncle. She paused, allowing the thought to sink in. Her hand released the load she was clutching. The stones skipped off his boots.

  “It’s you!”

  Gray Eagle rode up, dismounted, and pried rocks out of a wide-eyed Joanie’s grasp. Her incredulous look suggested she was as surprised as anyone her prayer had been answered.

  The scout wiped a trickle of blood off his forehead. His dark eyes calmly assessed the two women.

  Pierce let go of her arm and turned Beth’s hands palm up as if checking to make sure they were empty before he released her. “Do you care to say why you two are hiding in the bushes, dressed like nuns, and hurling rocks at people?”

  Joanie started to answer but he stopped her, pointing his finger at Beth. “I want her explanation.”

  Lowering her eyes, Beth refused to look at him. He’d only have harsh words for her, and rightly so.

  Joanie started to answer again, but he shook his head and pointed at Bet
h. “Why are you throwing rocks at people?”

  Biting her bottom lip, she figured she’d have to say something. It didn’t seem wise to anger him any further. “We thought you were Bear and Uncle Walt. They took us at gunpoint from the stream and…” Her voice trailed off before she added, “A bear saved us.”

  “Bear saved you.”

  “Not Bear, bear. A bear.”

  “A bear?”

  “A black bear wandered into their camp and went after Uncle Walt. He took off one direction and we ran the other. That gave us the chance to escape. We thought you were Uncle Walt and Bear coming after us again.”

  Shifting stances, Pierce glanced at Gray Eagle and then back to Beth. “I think we have a communication problem.”

  Joanie interceded. “She doesn’t like men.”

  “I figured that out.” He focused on Beth. “The truth, please.”

  Beth fixed her gaze on a passing bird. She needed to get out of this fix, no doubt about that, but if she told him the truth, she would have to tell him about running from Walt because he would make her tell him where Pa hid the deed. Not to mention that he’d force her to marry Bear. He would steal the deed for himself, and she’d be doomed to a life of picking cotton, and Joanie would be dead. Best to keep quiet about the deed and stick with the plan of her and Joanie traveling alone.

  Summoning a smile, she met the captain’s eyes. “We appreciate your thoughtfulness, sir, but we…we don’t need your assistance from here on out. You’ve been helpful enough. Though we would appreciate it if you would inform Trella we’ve had a change of plans and won’t be meeting up with her.”

  Pierce’s gaze skimmed their habits. “Why don’t you come along and tell her yourself?”

  Beth straightened her wimple, aware of his cool stare. Of course he would have questions, but she owed him no explanation.

  “Do the sisters at the abbey know you’re wearing their clothing?”

  She refused to answer. She crossed her arms over her chest and pursed her lips.

  Finally Pierce sighed and turned to Joanie, who shook her head. “We planned to launder the garments and return them. And we left money to cover the losses—”

  “So they don’t know you’re running around the countryside posing as nuns.”

  “No, sir.” Joanie said, her gaze dropping. “They didn’t know that we…um…borrowed their clothing. Though they may know by now.”

  Beth tugged her sister’s skirt, wishing she would just keep silent. “We have to go. Uncle Walt is looking for us—”

  “He’s not close by.”

  Beth glanced at her sister. Expectancy lit Joanie’s eyes. “Can you be certain?”

  Gray Eagle spoke. “We’ve covered every inch of this area, Miss Joanie, looking for you. Most likely your uncle has given up and ridden home.”

  “He won’t give up,” Joanie said.

  Beth swallowed, knowing her sister was right. Even Joanie’s prayers couldn’t accomplish that hope.

  The captain’s eyes returned to Beth. “Cat got your tongue?”

  Beth drew a deep breath. Disrespectful man. She reached for her sister’s hand. “We’re leaving now. If you would be so kind as to give our friend the message?” She nudged Joanie into a walk. The two women set off, Beth aware of the men’s eyes on their backs.

  “Don’t you think we should at least let them take us to the next community?” Joanie whispered.

  “We’d only be asking for more trouble—”

  “Oh, ladies?” Pierce called.

  The sisters turned simultaneously.

  “I feel obligated to tell you that though your uncle isn’t in the area, we did run across that rascally cousin—Bear, is it? He’s a couple of miles down the road, in case you’re interested.”

  Mounting up on their horses, Pierce and Gray Eagle turned in the opposite direction and started moving off.

  “Wait!” the women chorused. Beth shot Joanie an exasperated look. “See why I don’t trust men?” she hissed. The brute wouldn’t be satisfied until he forced his help on them. “All right. Tell him we’ll ride with him to the next community. But that’s where we’ll part company. We’ll ride no farther.” Surely she could put up with the impossible man a few more hours.

  “You tell him.” Joanie crossed her arms over her chest, coughing.

  Beth hardened her look. “You know I don’t deal with men. You tell him.”

  “No. You tell him.”

  Heaving a betrayed sigh, Beth stepped around her and walked back to face the captain, who had stopped and turned his horse around. Their gazes locked. She cleared her throat. “We’ll go with you.”

  He flashed a white grin. “I thought you might.”

  She had no intentions of engaging in a sparring match with him. “Sir—”

  “Sir?” He quirked a brow.

  Lowering her head, she amended, “Captain.”

  “How about Pierce? That’s my name.”

  “Sir,” she repeated, “if you would be so kind as to escort us with our friend and her baby to the next community we would…thank you.”

  Sobering, he said quietly, “We’d be most pleased to do that, Beth.” He glanced toward the thicket. “But first I recommend that you return the sisters’ garments. They don’t have clothing to spare.”

  Eyes downcast, Beth said quietly, “Yes, sir.” She sighed deeply. Once again she found herself at this man’s mercy.

  A circumstance she was bound to regret.

  Thirteen

  Gray Eagle took Joanie back to camp, and Pierce and Beth headed back to the abbey. Before parting company, Joanie had gladly taken off her black gown and wimple and handed them to her sister.

  Beth was not happy about the arrangement. From behind Pierce on his horse, she said, “This is so unfair. I would have returned the gowns eventually.”

  “Why do I doubt that?”

  “Take me back to camp,” she demanded. How could she face the sisters after they had been so kind to her and she’d returned that kindness by taking what didn’t belong to her? But she’d left money. Surely that wasn’t considered stealing. In a quiet voice she said, “I can’t face them.”

  “Oh, but you can,” he corrected. “I think the good sisters are due an apology.”

  “From me?”

  “Did Joanie take the gowns?”

  “Partly.” That wasn’t exactly true.

  “But mostly it was your idea.”

  “Mostly,” she conceded. She didn’t care what he thought about her. “We needed a disguise.”

  “So you helped yourself to the nuns’ habits.”

  Beth ignored his goading. He wasn’t worth the effort. Somehow, she and Joanie would escape him and the others and then be on their way. Joanie couldn’t last forever traveling in this heat, and while the men appeared helpful, they were a headache.

  The two rode in silence until Beth decided to speak her mind. She could do that; he hadn’t taken a whip to her yet. And so what if he struck her? It wouldn’t be the first time a man hit her. “I don’t feel I’ve done anything…much…that requires me to apologize to the nuns.” Her cheeks warmed at the thought of standing in front of those lovely women and admitting that she had stolen their clothing.

  “You think not?”

  “No. I refuse.”

  “Okay.”

  “I mean it. I won’t make a fool of myself, and you can’t make me.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “Don’t ‘we’ll see’ me, Mr. Montgomery.”

  “We’ll see.”

  He was so aggravating! Before she knew what she was doing, she had doubled her fist and whacked him across his shoulders—broad shoulders. Incredibly muscular shoulders. And then her life flashed before her eyes. He was the first man she’d ever talked back to, much less struck.

  Stiffening, he said in a tight tone, “Beth, I feel compelled to warn you that my patience is not limitless.” He shifted closer to the saddle horn.

  “And mine i
sn’t either. We don’t need your help. We were doing just fine on our own.”

  “You were singing a different tune when we picked you out of that burning field. And when I didn’t turn you over to your uncle and cousin when we met them on the road.”

  “I needed your help then,” she admitted. Her conscience pricked her. How could she be so ungrateful? She sighed. “I do thank you for intervening, both times, but now that Walt and Bear aren’t in sight, we can carry on from here.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “That’s good to know. Just think of this as my kind way of intervening again—on your behalf. You said you eventually planned to return the nuns’ clothes, didn’t you?”

  She couldn’t really argue with that. It was the truth, but she didn’t know how she would have accomplished the task.

  He shrugged. “Just being helpful.”

  It irked her that she didn’t have a good argument. She pursed her lips and set her gaze straight ahead, refusing to say another word.

  They approached the convent, and before Beth knew what happened she was standing in front of Reverend Mother.

  “Well, Beth. How good to see you again so soon.” Reverend Mother smiled.

  “I’m…sorry, ma’am. I borrowed two gowns—”

  “You took two gowns without permission,” Pierce corrected.

  Shooting him a miffed look, she modified her confession. “My sister and I helped ourselves to a couple of gowns from a wardrobe closet. We left money…”

  Reverend Mother’s eyes looked pointedly at the stolen garments.

  “And I planned to wash both garments and return them…”

  The nun’s eyes skipped to Pierce.

  “I will repay the cost if any harm was done,” Pierce offered.

  “That won’t be at all necessary. We have ample cloth.” She focused on a quivering Beth. “Would you like to keep the gowns?”

  Beth’s gaze dropped. “No, ma’am. But thank you.”

  “Why don’t you both come in out of the heat.”

  The sister stepped aside, and Beth and Pierce entered the cool foyer, but not without her mouthing the words to the annoying man beside her. “See? She isn’t upset.”