The One Who Waits for Me

by Lori Copeland

  Ma

  “The noted was dated the night before she died,” Joanie whispered.

  Lifting tear-filled eyes, Beth sighed. “Oh, Ma.”

  Thirty-Nine

  That evening Pierce stood in the abbey’s kitchen doorway and watched the sun sink in the west. The invitation for Preach, Gray Eagle, and Pierce to have supper with the order took him by surprise. Except for their inclusion of the Jornigan sisters, the nuns usually kept to themselves.

  The order had taken to Beth and Joanie like hummingbirds to sweet jasmine.

  So have you, a voice in his head reminded him.

  Reverend Mother arrived, looking worn. The men removed their hats and waited as Sister Mary Margaret helped the matriarch to her seat.

  Dinner consisted of new potatoes, carrots, corn on the cob, roast beef, and blackberry cobbler swimming in heavy cream. Pierce feared he’d made of pig of himself until he saw the food Preach and Gray Eagle put away.

  Over coffee, Reverend Mother got down to the purpose of her summons. “Gentleman, I imagine you found my invitation rather puzzling.”

  “Ma’am…I mean, Sister,” Pierce said, “we’re much obliged for a fine meal and well aware of your kindness and generosity. No explanation is needed.”

  Smiling, the sister nodded. Pierce noticed the tired lines around her eyes. How old was she? He thought most likely her late eighties.

  “I’m ninety-one,” she answered his silent curiosity. “Longevity runs in my family.” She paused, thoughtful. “My mother lived to be one-hundred-and-seven.”

  Gray Eagle and Preach made sounds of amazement.

  “I fear I might exceed her.” She laughed at the men. “It’s not that I don’t have a keen appreciation for life, gentlemen. I merely long for my eternal home.” Sighing, she lifted her coffee cup. “Some days more than others.”

  Sister Mary Margaret giggled. “Me too, Reverend Mother.”

  “Now, then.” The nun set the cup back on its saucer. “My reason for summoning you here. I gather that you will be leaving soon?”

  Pierce briefly looked at the others and then assumed the spokesman role. “Yes, ma’am. Tomorrow morning.”

  “Ah. I’m sure you are anxious to see your families.”

  Nodding, the men’s eyes focused on the nun.

  “Would you stay if—as they say—the price was right?”

  Pierce’s brow lifted. “Ma’am?”

  Settling back in her chair, the sister waved away Sister Prue’s efforts to drape a light wrap around her frail shoulders. “We have so much land here. I’ve lost count of the acreage. My memory isn’t what it used to be, but we have vast amounts. It was donated to the order by a benefactor in the late seventeen hundreds. We promised—or the sisters before us promised—to faithfully use the land for God’s purpose.”

  “I’m sure you’ve kept that vow.”

  “We have, sir.” She focused on Sister Mary Margaret. “Now, I intend to ask a favor of you that all of us—” her blue-veined hand swept the seated sisters—“have diligently prayed about for some days now. The request will seem outlandish, but I believe it is the Lord’s hand—and His only—in what I’m about to request.”

  Pierce smiled. “And that would be?”

  She focused on the three soldiers. “The order would like to give you twenty-five acres, providing you will live here and organize a small community.”

  Pierce’s jaw dropped.

  “By you, I mean all three of you men, and naturally the women you will eventually marry.” Her brow lifted. “I assume you boys do plan to settle down and raise families?”

  The men, for once, were speechless.

  “Ma’am?” Pierce said a few moments later.

  “I am offering the three of you twenty-five prime, North Carolina acres if you will remain here and shepherd a small community.”

  Swallowing, Pierce asked, “What community?”

  “The one that’s about to be formed.”

  “Why would we do that?”

  “Gentleman, I have watched you. You have good hearts. Hearts God can use to further His kingdom. You are exactly the kind of men we’ve been asking God to send over the years. You are godly people, much like Christ’s twelve disciples, filled with respect and compassion. You’re persuasive, good with the Indians…” She paused as her eyes took on a glint. “God often singles out the unsuspecting to do His work.”

  “Ma’am,” Preach said. “I’m not like one of the disciples. Peter, Matthew, John…those men were saints.”

  “Those men were simple fishermen, sir. The thing that made the twelve worthy was their willingness to follow.”

  Shaking his head, Preach said, “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m on my way home to take over my father’s flock.”

  “Hmm…yes, but I would suppose that perhaps Peter and John set out one day merely to catch fish when Jesus called them to follow Him.”

  “Sister,” Gray Eagle ventured, “I, too, have family responsibilities. I must see about my brother and his wife. I don’t know if they have survived the war.”

  Pierce glanced at him. “You have a brother?”

  Gray Eagle said, “Two sisters, one brother.”

  “I’m not asking you to stay right now,” the elderly nun said. “Of course you should do your duty, sir, but then return to us.” She turned to also give Preach a reassuring but tired smile.

  “Now, wait a minute,” Pierce objected. “I haven’t felt this calling. Surely God can talk to me directly. And I am anything but a disciple like the twelve.”

  Granted, he tried to live by the Good Book, but he wasn’t worthy of being singled out for something like this. Yet even as he spoke the words of his objection, the truth of her words struck a chord. He felt ties to this peaceful haven, ties he’d never felt anywhere else. But there was still the matter of his land, the site of his own home, where he planned to sip sweet tea and live in harmony. “What would we do for a living in this new community? I don’t know how to do anything but grow cotton.”

  “In the last week and a half, I have seen you do many other things, Captain. You are a gifted leader. As for your future, you’ll do what God asks. He’ll amply provide.”

  Pierce shook his head. “Maybe I was shot and killed on the battlefield.” He glanced up. “That’s it. I didn’t make it to heaven, so I’m here instead.” His eyes scanned the other men. “You didn’t make it either.”

  “Gentleman.” Reverend Mother chuckled as her eyes searched each man’s features. “I know what I ask is overwhelming and, of course, ultimately the choice is yours. God will lead you where He wants you to go, and if that place is here, in Sanctuary, then you will have nowhere to run, for when He calls a man He won’t let up until His purpose is served.” Even though a nun, her smile was a bit impish. “But then you know that, don’t you?”

  Pierce knew that only too well. When he’d been called to fight for the North, against everything his family held dear, the decision had eaten him alive but he’d gone.

  He sighed and said, “Sanctuary?”

  “The town will be a haven for the brokenhearted and downtrodden.”

  “Why would God want us to start such a community?” Preach asked. “And how will people know where to come if they’re hurting and broken?”

  Reverend Mother pinned him with a stern look. “He knew where to find you, didn’t He?”

  “Yes, ma’am, but—”

  “No buts. He will send whom He pleases. You need only fill the position He’s offering.” Her eyes shifted from one thoughtful face to the next. “Gentlemen, the Lord knows your credentials far better than I do. Pray about this, and do so with an open heart.”

  “I have to see to my land, Sister,” Pierce insisted.

  “Exactly where is this land you speak about?”

  Pierce reached in his pocket and took out the documents he carried with him. Pushing back cups and saucers, he spread the plat map on the table. Chairs scraped the wood floor when the sisters
rose to peer over his shoulder. “It’s…here.” He pinpointed the spot.

  “Hmm.” Reverend Mother studied the piece of paper. “You’re certain?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I purchased it from a Savannah newspaper advertisement.”

  “Oh, dear.” Reverend Mother focused on a much younger nun. “Mary Margaret.”

  The nun backed away from the table. “I can explain, Reverend Mother. We…we needed money to buy seed. It seemed a logical solution. This is a tiny speck of land compared to what we own. I thought…selling a small piece of property…why, we’d never miss it. And we still grow a garden there.”

  “You sold the land? But—”

  Color crept up Mary Margaret’s face. “I know, Reverend Mother. I’ve had many a restless night thinking about it.” She swallowed. “Actually, I believe I…I may have sold it twice. I’ve never had a good head for business.”

  Gasps broke out. Pierce overheard a hushed whisper. “This will put the Reverend Mother in bed for a month,” Sister Prue predicted.

  “Sister Mary Margaret.” Reverend Mother drew a deep breath. “You cannot sell land that does not belong to you, however worthy you deem the cause.”

  “Wait a minute.” Pierce pushed away from the table and stood up. “Are you saying I don’t own this land after all?”

  “I’m afraid not.” Reverend Mother smiled ruefully, and then her expression softened. “I am deeply sorry, Captain, but you and some other unsuspecting soul have been sold our bean and turnip patch, which, of course, cannot be purchased.” Her eyes turned to Sister Margaret. “The order will reimburse any monies owed to you and the other buyer, and I can only repeat how sorry we are for this most unfortunate incident.”

  Pushing away from the table, she stifled a weary yawn. “Still, I can’t help thinking that it looks as though God has already been at work in all this.” Her smile was back again, kind and compassionate. “Pray about the situation gentleman. Heed what the good Lord says to you.”

  A bright moon rose higher as the group rode back to camp. Gray Eagle broke the strained silence halfway there. “It’s a crazy idea.”

  Preach’s relieved tone agreed. “Craziest notion I’ve ever heard. I’ve never been personally called by the good Lord to do anything except get saved on a Sunday morning when I was nine years old.”

  “Well, maybe He found another thing you need to do,” Pierce noted.

  “Now don’t go saying that! I got to get on home, Pierce. I haven’t seen my family in years.”

  “Nor have I,” Gray Eagle said. He glanced at Pierce. “Are you taking this seriously?”

  “Are you?”

  Gray Eagle shook his head. “I don’t like to be put on the spot, and I’m about as far from a disciple as a man can get. Start a town? The three of us?”

  “Count me out,” Preach said. “If you want to stay, Pierce, you stay, but I’m going home.” He lifted his chin. “I haven’t heard any calling other to spell my pa.”

  Pierce glanced at Gray Eagle. “And you?”

  Gray Eagle pursed his lips in thought. “At first my reaction was to say no, but now…maybe. I don’t want to leave Joanie. And if she goes she won’t have access to the pools. They’re the only thing that helps her breathe.”

  Pierce set his jaw, and then agreed. “And I don’t want to leave Beth, though she’s a wildcat. How will the women view this cockeyed notion?” Beth—to his knowledge—was still getting used to the idea of talking to God. “Those three women don’t have a real plan. They think they do, but what sort of plan is it to take them and the baby to a community and just leave them there?”

  “Don’t forget Beth has land too. The community is just a stopover until Joanie is well and they can settle on their property.”

  “Is that right?” Preach said. “Well, I’ve been studying about it all day, and I can’t say that I want to leave Trella or Esther.” He groaned softly. “Oh, man. If…if we stay and put our trust in Reverend Mother’s ‘vision,’ then what?”

  “She didn’t say she had a vision, and Reverend Mother doesn’t have anything to do with the decision. We have to put our full trust in the Almighty.”

  “So,” Gray Eagle said thoughtfully, “we’re supposed to drop our lives, settle down here, and build a town.”

  “A town called Sanctuary,” Pierce supplied.

  “And then wait for troubled souls to come our way,” Preach finished.

  “There’ll be a stampede,” Pierce said, frowning. “Do you think God answers all prayers?”

  “I’ve had a few go unnoticed,” Gray Eagle admitted.

  “That don’t mean He didn’t answer,” Preach said. “Just that God knew better than to give you the answer you were looking for.”

  The men fell silent, each wrapped in his own thoughts. One thing Pierce knew for certain; there’d be a lot of praying going on tonight, and he had a hunch the answers wouldn’t be to their liking.

  Or understanding.

  Glancing up, he muttered, “Never even thought about starting a town.” Me? Pierce Montgomery advising anyone on how to live their life? The idea was laughable. He’d disappointed Pa. He fought for the North, wasn’t married yet, and his sole ambition was to drink sweet tea.

  Then it hit him. Beth’s land—the deed she kept in Joanie’s Bible. His heart sank. Was it possible she had purchased the same piece of property from a good-hearted nun who had no right to sell it?

  Shaking his head, he said quietly, “Maybe the sister has an inside track on what God wants us to do.” Then he smiled, somehow at peace with that idea.

  Forty

  Fog shrouded the massive rock overhang when Gray Eagle led the way up the steep incline. Pierce hadn’t known this section of the camp existed. He and Preach and the Indian scout had walked for more than a mile before they found the secluded place where the chief went for morning prayer.

  When Gray Eagle paused, Pierce saw the object of their search. The chief stood tall and proud, his eyes fixed on the far horizon, his black hair streaked with silver ruffling in the light breeze. He turned, his gaze centering on the intruders. Stepping aside, Pierce let Gray Eagle assume the spokesman’s role.

  “Forgive us, Chief. I know this is private time for you—”

  Focusing on the scout, he said, “Speak.”

  Stepping closer, Gray Eagle said quietly, “I have come to ask yet another great favor.”

  The chief’s dark brow quirked. “You ask many favors, son of Walks-with-Sun.”

  “Always for the good of others.”

  The chief nodded. “Continue.”

  “Reverend Mother summoned us last night to supper.”

  “I know of the matter.”

  “The sisters consulted you about their desire?”

  “When one asks for special privileges, it is wise to consult with the affected party.”

  “You speak the truth in grace and knowledge.”

  “Go on.”

  “You know that the nuns have asked that we start a new community, one adjoining Cherokee land?”

  “I do.”

  “The order wants me, Pierce, and Preach to form an… unusual town.”

  A hint of a smile touched the Indian’s features. “At least you ask.”

  “I want to consider your feelings on the matter.”

  The chief’s eyes skimmed Pierce and Preach before coming back to the Indian scout. “You have decided to accept the task?”

  Gray Eagle shook his head. “Before making a decision, I seek your permission.”

  Turning back to face the lifting dawn, the Cherokee chief fell silent. The day gradually brightened. It appeared to Pierce that he was staring at his past, acres and acres of former Cherokee land now divided among immigrants. Time had caught up with the man, his once-tall frame shrunken, his eyes not as vibrant, his senses dulled. Many heartbreaking changes had taken place in his lifetime, yet his heritage was still a symbol of the proud nation that refused to walk the Trail of Tears. Pierce wondered h
ow the events of his life had not left him a broken man.

  An inordinately long stretch of time passed before he spoke again. “I love this land. It is not the place of my birth, but I have enjoyed its bounty for many years.” His gaze skimmed the gently rolling hills and deep ravines as tears rolled down his cheeks. “The wife of my heart is buried nearby. She was twenty summers when the Great Spirit claimed her.”

  Pierce shuffled, uncomfortable with the sight of the great man’s grief.

  “The sisters have been good to my people,” the chief continued. “The land they offer is not Cherokee land.”

  “No, but it is the pools that the sisters also ask for.”

  “Ah…the pools.”

  “If we start this community that the Reverend Mother visualizes,” Gray Eagle went on, “we will need use of them. They have brought great help to the one called Joanie. She is able to breathe here. If what the sisters ask comes from the Great White Father, then He will use the comforting waters for the good of many.”

  Pierce watched varying emotions play across the chief’s features. Pain. Sorrow. Hope. Despair. They were asking him to share yet another part of his heritage with the white man. After long thought, he turned to face Gray Eagle.

  “Our tribe, like the sisters, withers like a plant without water. Soon now we will be forced to make our summer camp where the buffalo isn’t as abundant, depleting our ability to feed our children. Already the white man has killed so many.”

  “The sisters are not asking that you give up your land,” Gray Eagle said. “Only that you allow limited access to the hot pools.”

  “Limited?” The Indian chuckled. “You cannot make such a promise. For many years strangers have come from far away in search of the pools. We have turned all away but the good women in black and your Joanie.”

  “We will do the same.” Gray Eagle’s eyes met the patriarch’s. “Only the ones in most need of the waters will be allowed to use them. I make you this promise.”

  “You will be the judge of such important matters?”

  “Not I or Pierce or Preach. The Great Spirit will send the neediest.”

  “If I refuse your request, what will keep you from using the pools?”