My Heart Stood Still (Sisters Of Mercy Flats 2) (28 page)

She pressed tighter, seeking his quiet strength, agonizingly aware of the lizards who were trying to claw their way up the sides of the walls. She turned to look down, but his voice stopped her.

“Don’t look down.”

Shielding her from the sight, he turned, pointing to the ledge several feet above their heads. “See that ledge?”

She nodded.

“If I can make it up there, I can get us out of here.”

“I can help you up. That’s why I came down here.”

“You honestly think Ollie is going to stick around and help?”

“He’d better.”

“If I can get to that ledge, I can get us both out,” he assured her.

Anne-Marie viewed the ledge some ways above her head and then said quietly. “You can stand on my shoulders.”

“I’d crush you.”

“I’m stronger than I look,” she said. “Ollie!”

Eyes peered through the shaft. “What?”

“Throw down that second rope.”

A length of rope suddenly dangled above her. Creed reached and snagged it. “Ready?”

Anne-Marie hesitated, glancing down at the lizards and then quickly up again. “I’m ready.”

“Good girl. You’ll have to prop me up. We’ll need to work together on this.”

“Just tell me what you want me to do.”

“First, I want your promise that if I start to fall, you’ll let go of me. I don’t want to take you with me.”

She felt dizzy. “Not my wish either.”

“I want your word, Anne-Marie.” He took hold of her face. “For once in your life, do what someone tells you.”

“You have my word,” she promised. “I won’t do anything to make us fall in a pit of lizards—even for you.”

“Be careful, and stay close to the wall.”

Creed leaned heavily on her, and she realized he was hurt worse than he was saying.

Balancing on her shoulders, Creed hefted himself up on the ledge. Anne-Marie helped to support him so he would exert as little weight on the injured leg as possible. The moments ticked by with agonizing slowness.

Leaning down, he extended the rope to her. “I’m going to pull you up. Hold on as tight as you can.”

Nodding, she grasped the rope and held on tightly as he eased her slender form upward.

When she reached him he quickly tied one end of the rope around his waist and then tied the other end around Anne-Marie’s.

“Hold on tight.”

“You don’t need to remind me. I planned to.”

With slow precision, he began to skim the dirt wall, his boots throwing dirt. The opening edged closer, but the remaining ten feet may as well have been a hundred. Anne-Marie had lost all track of time. Her muscles screamed with the pull of the rope, and the tips of her fingers were bleeding from gouging into the sides of the jagged rocks. The only thing that kept her sane was the certainty that Creed was hurting worse than she. If he could keep moving, so could she.

“You all right?” he grunted.

“I’m… I’m okay. Just keep going,” she panted.

When he reached the edge of the pit, he held on to it for several long moments and then hoisted himself over the rim. Grasping her forearm, he heaved her over the edge, and they collapsed in an exhausted heap.

Drained, they lay on their backs staring at the sky for several
moments, the only sound coming from their labored breathing and the rustling in the bottom of the pit of restless lizards.

Ollie’s voice broke the silence. “Can I go now?”

“Leave,” Creed ordered.

The outlaw sprang for his horse and rode off.

“He’s going to be very upset when he learns that the others have cut him out of his share of the gold.” Anne-Marie took deep breaths.

“I wish I could be there to shed a tear for him.”

She rolled over, propping herself up on her elbows.

“Do you realize that all we’ve done in the short time we’ve known each other is get into trouble?”

“I have noticed.”

He smiled and his hand came out to cup her cheek. “My friend the priest once told me that in China when a man saves the life of another, the one must serve the other until the debt is paid.”

She grinned, a warmth rushing through her. “Are you saying you have to serve me until a debt is paid?”

His fingers slipped into her hair and he pulled her face down to his. His lips were warm and supple on hers. When she opened her eyes a moment later, she saw a warm smile.

“You’re laughing at me again.” Twining her arms around his waist, she held him and closed her eyes to savor the rare moment, relishing the feel of his powerful muscles rippling beneath bronzed skin.

“You feel good in my arms,” he said softly.

Reluctantly, he pulled away, his eyes searching the area. “I’d better get a fire started and then see if I can scare up something to eat.”

Later, Anne-Marie fed dry twigs into a bed of coals while Creed searched for dinner. He returned within the hour with two freshly dressed rabbits.

“What about the gold?” he asked. He fashioned a spit from two thick branches and hung the meat to roast.

She resented the thought that despite their efforts, Cortes had won. “It’s gone. That vile man and his partner took it all.”

The telltale muscle flexed in Creed’s jaw. “What about Quincy?”

“I don’t know where he is. He wasn’t at the mission when we got there.”

Staring into the fire, Creed turned pensive.

“I think he’s probably looking for us,” she said.

Nodding, he fed more twigs into the fire.

“This man Loyal Streeter. He and the sheriff are working together?” She recognized the cattleman from their earlier encounter. She tensed. He would surely be put out with her and her sisters for selling him a herd of cattle that wasn’t theirs to sell.

“That’s how Quince and I have it figured. Now that Cortes has the gold we need to move to the second plan. It’s more risky, but I think it will work.”

“You’re going after the gold
again
?” She would never make it back to Mercy Flats.

“Did you think I’d just walk away and let Streeter have it?”

“I think that would be wise in view of all the trouble that shipment has caused us.”

“Well, I’ve never been accused of being wise, only good at my job.”

“By now the outlaws are on their way to turn that gold over to Streeter or whomever they’re working for.”

“Most likely.” He glanced up. “Which means we have to move all the faster.”

She gently tipped his face to look at her. “Why don’t we just give up?”

He stole a brief kiss. “Sorry, I never learned how.”

“We’ve gone to all this trouble, risked our lives for that shipment, and we’re going to turn around and put our lives in harm’s way again?”

“You can drop out if you want.” His gaze softened. “I can find you a room in High Bluff and keep you safe until this is over.”

“No.” She set her jaw. “I started this whole ugly mess; I’ll see it through to the end.” She sighed. “What now?”

“Now? I’m more concerned about Quincy. The meat will be done in a few minutes. We’ll eat and then ride back to the mission.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but he stood up and walked away, bringing an abrupt end to the discussion.

Abigail had been right about one thing: Men could be one big headache.

Eighteen

T
he gold?” Quincy asked. He carried a cane pole and a small stringer of fish. Creed and Anne-Marie had searched the area late into the night and found no sign of him.

“Gone. The outlaws outsmarted us,” Anne-Marie dished up a plate of eggs, avoiding Quincy’s eyes. She couldn’t stand to see the disappointment there. If it hadn’t been for her, the gold would still be in their hands. Creed appeared to be taking the loss better than Quincy. Maybe because he was still bent on regaining that shipment.

“Here.” She set the plate in front of Quincy. “Eat. Creed’s wound is bleeding.”

“Cortes and his thugs could be counties away by now.” Quincy picked up his fork.

“Maybe, or maybe like us they might hope to get a decent night’s sleep before they move on.”

Anne-Marie knew she should be moving on herself. She still had her sisters to consider. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to go.

A cold wind rattled the old mission windows and whistled down
the chimneys. Thunder rolled overhead, and lightning lit the kitchen as bright as day.

As if they didn’t have enough trouble, more arrived when they were about to turn in for the night. The sound of an approaching rider brought Creed and Quincy quickly to their feet.

If Cortes had returned, she hoped Creed would shoot him this time. She was sick of that man and his evil ways. Absolutely sick of him. Because of him, Creed’s mission had failed and the North would suffer even more.

Stepping away from the window, Creed went outside to greet the rider. Anne-Marie followed. They were met by a solemn-faced Bold Eagle.

Creed frowned when he approached the lathered horse. “What brings my brother out in such a storm?”

Rain pelted from the sky and thunder rolled as the chief faced them astride his war pony.

“Bold Eagle comes with bad news, my brother.”

Creed’s smile faded. “What is this news my brother brings?”

Emotions played across the chief’s features. Pain, anguish, deep sorrow. “Bold Eagle brings his brother Storm Rider sad news of Berry Woman.”

Creed stepped closer, his features a mask of concern. “Is Berry Woman ill?”

Bold Eagle’s composure broke now, overcome by the heavy burden he carried. “My sister is gravely wounded.”

Anne-Marie felt Creed tense. “When did this happen?” His voice was barely audible above the wind and thunder.

Straightening, the chief fixed his eyes beyond Creed, his features contorted in pain. “Yesterday.”

“Yesterday? How?”

Bold Eagle’s tired features showed the strain of the past few hours. His shoulders stooped, and he looked much like a defeated man.

“Berry Woman was digging wild roots. When Plain Weasel heard her cries, he raced to help her, but there was little he could do.” His
voice broke. “My sister happened upon a
nahkoheso
—she was not swift enough—”

Creed recoiled. “A bear attacked her?”

A soft gasp escaped Anne-Marie. Bold Eagle fixed his gaze straight ahead as another thunderous explosion split the sky.

Turning back to Creed, Anne-Marie saw he was standing, head bowed, trying to absorb the severity of Bold Eagle’s words. Finally he lifted his eyes and met his brother’s solemnly.

“I am deeply saddened, Bold Eagle. Thank you for making the long ride in the storm to bring me this news.”

“The Wise One works now to spare my sister’s life.”

“Berry Woman is strong,” Creed told him.

Nodding, Bold Eagle turned his horse slowly and rode into the worsening storm. When Anne-Marie turned after watching him depart, Creed was gone.

Stepping into the chapel later, she found him sitting in front of the railing, knees crossed, studying the large crucifix. Quietly seating herself beside him, she shared his grief in the lonely silence. Berry Woman was young—too young to face death like this. Many times in Anne-Marie’s years, the subject had troubled her. She and Sister Agnes had shared long talks about dying and about eternal life. Considering all the rules she broke, even as a young girl, Anne-Marie often worried about where she would spend eternity. How could she ever become good enough—change enough—to be worthy of heaven one day? Yet Sister Agnes had reassured her that Christ had paid the price. Throughout this long journey she had gained a sense of peace about the matter. And tonight, sitting in the chapel listening to the rain and thunder, she felt no fear. Instead she felt a gentle peace for Berry Woman. If a power so strong could create the sun, the moon, the thunder, the lightning, and the wind, then that same power would have the power to welcome a lovely young maiden into the folds of His love.

It was a long time before Creed finally broke his silence. Anne-Marie waited, respecting his burden.