The One Who Waits for Me

by Lori Copeland

  Pierce glanced at Gray Eagle. “How do we solve Beth and Joanie’s problem?”

  Shaking his head, Gray Eagle asked, “How do you stop evil men from anything?”

  “I’ve had my fill of killing,” Pierce said.

  “Maybe it won’t be necessary.”

  “How so?”

  “It is my experience that men like Walt and Bear usually do themselves in either with stupidity or carelessness.”

  “Or greed.”

  “Greed.” Gray Eagle nodded. “What’s the one thing Beth’s uncle wants?”

  “Beth and Joanie. Probably Trella too, once he realizes she’s with them,” Preach observed.

  “I’m not so sure. I had a long talk with Beth a little while ago,” Pierce said. “Walt and Bear would undoubtedly like to keep their hold on Beth and Joanie, but what they really want is the deed to the plantation that their pa hid.”

  Gray Eagle lifted a surprised gaze. “Do you know where this deed is hidden?”

  “No. I was pushing it just getting Beth to divulge that much. She didn’t volunteer its whereabouts.”

  “But she knows,” Preach guessed.

  Pierce nodded. “She knows. I’d stake my boots on it.” His gaze shifted to the left. “Are you in or out on this?”

  “I’m in.” Preach flashed a guilty smile. “I can’t let those two varmints hurt Trella or that baby, not if I can stop it. Brutal men have made those three women afraid of their shadows. They think all men are alike, including us.”

  Gray Eagle added, “In many ways we are alike, but I will fight to the death for Joanie and her health.”

  Pierce nodded briefly. “Same here—for Beth.”

  Gray Eagle stiffened. “I did not mean to imply I have any romantic interest—”

  “Hey, I just meant I didn’t want to see Beth get hurt.” Pierce held up his hands. “I don’t have any personal interest in her. When I settle down, it’ll be with a woman who can at least tolerate a man.”

  “No, sir.” Preach grinned. “Wouldn’t want to set on the porch and drink sweet tea with that woman.”

  “Any woman,” Pierce corrected. “At least, not right away.”

  “What if you happen to recall the name of the girl you left behind?”

  Pierce shot Preach a dark look.

  “Same goes for me,” Gray Eagle said, clearing his throat. “Toward Joanie. Just looking after her health.”

  Preach pulled their attention back to the matter at hand. “It seems to me we should all three stay. None us got to be home any certain time, have we? We’ve been gone five years.”

  Pierce was glad to leave the topic of his romantic interests behind. “So we are agreed. The three of us will stay and help the women to fight this battle.”

  The other two nodded.

  Reaching for a stick, Gray Eagle drew a large circle in the sandy river’s edge. “Any ideas on where to start?”

  “We know Bear is still in the area,” Preach said. “And if that other bear didn’t eat Walt, without doubt he will be back as well.”

  “We’re going to have to draw them out and put them on the defense.” Pierce scratched his unshaven chin.

  “The only thing that will draw them out is bait,” Preach said.

  Pierce shook his head. “We’re not using Beth for bait.”

  “Or Joanie,” Gray Eagle noted.

  “Well, we’re sure not using Trella and the baby.” Preach adjusted his hat on his head.

  “Walt doesn’t care about Trella,” Pierce noted, “or he would have tried to get her last time. The only bait that’ll work is Joanie.”

  Gray Eagle glanced up. “No way.”

  “Walt knows that if he took Beth, she would never tell him where the deed was hidden. But if he had Joanie, Beth wouldn’t be able to stand it. He will use her loyalty to her sister against her.”

  Gray Eagle shook his head “No. I will not stand by and allow Joanie in harm’s way.”

  The captain’s eyes hardened to flint. “Do you ever want to get home?”

  “Joanie stays with me.” Gray Eagle held firm.

  “We’ll have her back,” Preach argued.

  “It’s the only way.” Pierce straightened. “If we have any hopes of getting home in the near future, this feud has to end.” He removed his hat and swiped a forearm over his eyes. He knew the matter was far from settled. “Now we just have to figure out how to draw Walt to the bait.”

  “I think all we have to do is wait,” Gray Eagle said as though he’d changed his mind and decided to go along with the plan. “Uncle Walt is restless. He’s tiring of the game. He’ll make his move soon. Then we get him.” His jaw clenched.

  “Relax.” Pierce touched the scout’s shoulder lightly. “You’re nothing to her but a nurse, Pricilla.”

  Gray Eagle brushed the hand away. “Do not call me Pricilla.”

  “That’s what you call me when I’m acting like a sissy.”

  “Then we’ll put Beth out as bait and Joanie beside her. Priscilla.”

  “You been smoking that lobelia weed?”

  “Gentlemen.” Preach stopped the friendly ruckus. “We got more important things to do.”

  Pierce rubbed a hand over his jaw. “If Gray Eagle’s right, Walt will set the pace. He’ll form the plan, or the bargain, depending on his demands. We play along. Take it step-by-step.”

  They all agreed. Battle plans by necessity were often formed on the spur of the moment. It wasn’t the ideal approach, but it was the only viable one at the moment.

  Gray Eagle met the captain’s eyes. “Can you find out where the deed is hidden? We’ll need to know in case we’re separated.”

  “I’ll try to pry it out of Beth.” Might be like dragging a dead horse to water, but he’d get the information from her.

  Gray Eagle said quietly, “All right, then. We’re agreed. We return to camp and wait for Walt’s next move.” As they set off for their tent, he turned to Pierce. “Do we tell the women?”

  Pierce nodded. “They’ll need to know.”

  “I will speak to Joanie to see if she’s willing to participate. Excitement worsens her condition. The lobelia is helping, but it is not enough.”

  “They’ll be scared,” Preach warned.

  “It’s up to us to relieve those fears.” Glancing over, Gray Eagle said, with irony tainting his tone, “Aren’t we the ones who sought peace and quiet?”

  “That was the idea.”

  Chuckling, the three men matched strides to camp, where all was quiet.

  As their laughter faded, a keen sense that this was no laughing matter settled in on Pierce. Though their plan seemed the only viable option, they were putting the women in the direct path of danger.

  A danger Pierce wasn’t anxious to revisit.

  Twenty-One

  Yes.” Beth faced Pierce later that morning. “I know where the deed is hidden, but why should I tell you?”

  “I don’t care where it is, Beth, but your uncle does.”

  Looking pretty as a rose, she turned back to the wash she was hanging. She’d put on her dress today and had washed and brushed out her hair. She was lovely and feminine to his eye. Five days away from the hard work of the cotton fields had renewed her youthful features. Lines of stress had eased from her face, and the gaunt look of starvation had faded a bit. This morning she looked rested and healthy. “What Walt wants doesn’t concern me.”

  “It concerns everybody, Beth. The men and I have been talking. We’re going to end this feud one way or another so that you don’t have to live in constant fear.”

  Tears welled up in her eyes and she blinked. “And so you can leave us. You’re free to do that—”

  “I’m not. Not until we settle this ruckus.”

  Lifting surprised eyes, she met his gaze as if she couldn’t believe he meant to help her, that he truly wanted to help.

  He briefly explained the men’s conversation from the night before and their decision. He, Gray Eagle, and Prea
ch would stay.

  The more he talked, the more overwhelmed she felt. Never ever had any man, let alone three men, come to her rescue. Of course, it wasn’t just about her. Joanie and Trella were also the recipients of their kindness. But the men were offering to free her and Joanie once and for all from her uncle’s tyranny. The thought made her head spin.

  “You would do that?”

  He met her uncertain gaze. “I’ll tell you what I will do when you tell me where that deed is buried. From this point on, we have to anticipate any move your uncle might make.”

  For a second time a voice spoke in her head. Beth, you either trust this man or let Joanie die and you live in fear the rest of your life. The thought resonated inside her. She said, “The deed is buried less than a hundred feet from Uncle Walt’s house.”

  A snort escaped Pierce. “You’re not serious.”

  She nodded. “There’s a deep ravine—a canyon, actually, that runs beside the main house. On the opposite bluff are all sorts of caves. Pa hid the deed in the third cave to the right when you face it from Uncle Walt’s front yard.”

  “Right under his brother’s nose.”

  “Like I said, Pa didn’t try to fight Uncle Walt. He outwitted him. The box is safe until someone goes to fetch it. I suppose if there is no other means to help Joanie, then I’ll do it.”

  “Jump a canyon?”

  “I know the situation isn’t the best, but I’ll figure it out when the time comes. Pa risked his life to hide that deed. He had to attach a good, strong rope to a hickory tree at the edge of the canyon and swing across. He said if the branch had snapped or the rope had given way that he would have fallen to his death.”

  “But Walt would most likely risk the chance.”

  “I believe he would. He isn’t known for good sense. He’s known for his cruelty and having his way, no matter the cost.”

  “Why not tell him? Let him take the risk? He’d be sure to go after it, and if he didn’t make it, then you and Joanie would be free of him.”

  “I’ve considered it in my weaker moments, and the notion sets right—but I couldn’t be part of a plan that might very well end up killing a man.” She’d worried the idea over and over in her mind, but she couldn’t lower herself to Walt’s level.

  Pierce nodded his understanding. “Still…”

  She stiffened. “And what if he made the jump successfully? Pa did. Then Walt would have the deed, and with it he’d buy up more land, more slaves…well, now I guess he’d hire more workers, but it would only continue what he’s started. Nothing good would come of it, and he would only put more people under his abuse. No. I can’t, Pierce. I’ll never tell him. Not ever.”

  She had a valid point. And a big part of him admired her selfless attitude. She hadn’t gone seeking the deed herself. Instead, she’d sought a simple life with her sister, choosing only to escape Jornigan’s tyranny when perhaps she could have had so much more.

  “Can you draw me a map of the caves?”

  “Yes…but what are you going to do?”

  “We’re going to play this by ear,” he admitted. “We don’t have a specific plan, but one will become apparent. Right now, we’re waiting for Walt to make his next move, which we figure will be any time.” His features tightened. “Beth, I don’t want to include you in on this, but I might have to. I won’t let you or Joanie get hurt. You’ll have to trust that whatever I say or do will be in your best interests.”

  He could see the hesitancy—the war raging in her eyes. Trust a man? Was she capable of complete trust? “I…don’t know.”

  “You’ll have to trust me, Beth, if we’re going to end this chase.”

  “Pierce…”

  He answered her objection before she voiced it. “I’m not like the other men you have known. And I promise I won’t walk away, nor will I allow anyone to lift a hand to you. I… we…will do this together, but it would make it a mite easier if you’d cooperate.”

  Swiping at hot tears, she avoided his eyes until he gently tilted her face to meet his. “Will you help me?”

  Nodding, she drew a deep breath and said, “I will.”

  At that moment, he was taking this woman’s plight dead serious, and he should. Without thinking about it, he bent and pressed his lips to hers.

  She didn’t move. She just watched him with open eyes.

  He lifted his head. “What?”

  “You…kissed me.”

  His features softened. “So I did. You must be pretty kissable, Beth Jornigan. I haven’t kissed a woman in years.”

  He lifted his hat and then strode off.

  Twenty-Two

  Nodding a greeting to the lone Indian woman tending the cooking fires late the next morning, Beth checked on Joanie, who had gone back to bed after breakfast. She’d had a poor night, her coughing waking Beth continually. Sitting beside her sister’s pallet, Beth allowed her fears to surface. Her sister couldn’t endlessly go on praying for each breath.

  Praying, the one thing Beth hadn’t tried in order to help her sister…well, except for the one time beside the road when Preach struggled to keep Joanie alive. She had prayed then, sort of, and Joanie had found breath again. Until this moment she hadn’t made the connection, but it was surely Preach’s prayers that had brought Joanie through yet another breathing crisis and not her clumsy attempts at talking to God.

  Beth’s gaze roamed the camp, where others were setting about their morning rituals. Did these people pray? The thought intrigued her. Some of the pickers prayed out loud. And the nuns? As they had washed dishes together, Mary Margaret told her a tolling bell summoned them to prayer morning, noon, and evening. What summoned the pickers? What made Joanie drop to her knees to lift her face upward with such assurance? Beth had been deeply entrenched against that God for so long that she’d never given the issue of prayer much thought.

  She was beginning to think that everyone but her prayed. Pa and Ma did, but they never had family prayer. Pa was always so worn out at night that about all he could do was eat and then drop into bed. Bowing her head, Beth tested a prayer on her tongue. “Lord. God. You.” She shook her head. She didn’t know the first thing about asking something from someone she couldn’t see.

  Joanie slept soundly at last, so Beth rose and roamed the camp. Oddly enough, others took no notice of her but simply went about their business as though she belonged there. Meat sizzled in heavy skillets. Coffee perked.

  When the sun climbed higher, she ventured deeper around the camp’s perimeter, keeping the captain’s warning in mind. She was not to wander far away. She was to wait until Walt found them. Captain Montgomery. Her lips still tingled from his kiss. When she even thought about his brashness she shivered. She had enjoyed it. Far too much.

  The gurgling stream wound deep into the woods. She followed the trail, listening to bird calls and the sound of river life. Bright yellow butterflies flew overhead, darting here and there. She wasn’t in the habit of taking notice of her surroundings. From sunup to sundown she had bent over sacks of cotton, striving to meet both hers and Joanie’s daily quota. Joanie picked all she could, but there were hours where she sat in the hot sun and simply struggled to breathe. Beth’s hand reached out lightly to capture a butterfly. Handling the insect carefully, she examined its unique beauty. How did such a creature, so intricately formed, come to be on this earth? Lifting her palm she gently nudged the insect to flight. Nothing this beautiful should be restricted. Deeper and deeper she wound her way downstream, losing all track of time.

  An unfamiliar sense of freedom empowered her. Her world had been limited to the plantation, but here another world existed. A world of towering trees and blooming wildflowers. Here she could almost forget her former life. Almost.

  Memories flashed of earlier conversations with Pa after working thirteen hours under a stifling sun with little water to quench their thirst.

  “How can Uncle Walt be so cruel?”

  “It’s not our place to judge, daughter. He mig
ht not be punished here on earth, but he will one day stand before God, and then he’ll have a powerful lot of explaining to do.”

  Beth had let the thought skip through her mind all that day. Perhaps there was a God and Walt would answer for his meanness. That only seemed fair. But long ago Beth had come to realize that life wasn’t always fair. Not in her eyes.

  Locating a large rock, she brushed it clean and sat down, pulling her knees up to her chest. She had nothing to do but sit and admire the beautiful morning and enjoy the scent of blooming flowers, the sight of little rabbits skipping across the path, and the sun’s warmth as she sat in partial shade. Her body didn’t ache from bending over all day, and her head didn’t hurt from the blistering sun.

  Glancing up at the sky, she noted with surprise that it was close to noon. She’d been gone longer than she had intended. Joanie would probably wake soon and wonder where she had gone.

  Beth started back to camp, lightheartedly picking her way through the thick vegetation that grew along the banks of the stream. When a hand clamped down on her shoulder, she whirled, her heart in her throat as the captain’s warning came back to her.

  Stay close to the camp.

  Twenty-Three

  Joanie’s sleepy gaze met Gray Eagle’s when he touched her shoulder.

  “The sun has been up for hours,” the young man said softly.

  Sitting up, she looked around and asked, “Where’s Beth?”

  “Somewhere about. She is safe.”

  “Oh.” She glanced up at him and smiled. The scout had become a familiar, secure sight. He was always there to give her cold water when a relentless spasm refused to ease. He would offer her small sips of lobelia tea, and soon the cough would temporarily ease.

  Extending a hand, he helped her to her feet. “Come. I have some lunch for you.”

  “I’m not hungry. I’m afraid I don’t have much of an appetite.”

  “I have noticed. You are small, like a baby bird.”

  She smiled shyly and he kept her hand in his as he led her through camp to the main fire, where a steaming plate of meat awaited her. After helping her to a seat on a pallet, he brought a gourd filled with water and placed it beside her. “Eat.”