The One Who Waits for Me (29 page)

“No.” Her eyes rested on Pierce and Preach, who were working on a large tree across the meadow from the garden. The woodpile grew larger every day. “But I think I am starting to change my mind about men in general.”

“Explain,” the nun said, jerking a tenacious weed from the ground and adding it to her pile.

Smiling, Beth wondered what Mary Margaret had done for excitement before the Jornigan sisters came around. “Pierce, Gray Eagle, and Preach have shown me that not all men are bad. Some are quite…admirable.”

Laughing, Mary Margaret straightened and shaded her eyes against the hot sun. “I should say so. Those three are the most pleasant men I've ever met.” Then she whispered, “I think Gray Eagle is sweet on Joanie. And if I'm not mistaken, Preach seems to have taken a fierce liking to Trella and Esther.”

Beth thought of all the good things that had happened since they had fled the shanty ten days ago. She'd met Mary Margaret. She'd come to appreciate the Cherokee and their kind ways. And truth be told, she was falling for the captain, though she dare not let anyone—even Joanie—know her thoughts. God had opened her eyes to many things during this brief time. To His love. To Pierce. To men in general. Right now she felt as though she could stay here forever in this peaceful world, but deep down she knew her past still waited for her. Walt and Bear. The inevitable showdown was bound to come soon, and then all of this would be over. She thought of her former plan to locate her land and start a new life. While that thought had once excited her, she now dreaded this blissful time coming to end.

“Oh my goodness.” Sister Mary Margaret's hands paused. “I've been meaning to tell you something for days. My memory—it flitters away like a hummingbird. We found your Bible.”

“You did!” Beth's heart leaped with joy. Joanie would be thrilled. And she would have the deed to her land again. What wonderful news. “Where? We thought we'd lost it somewhere on the trail.”

“Not at all. Sister Helen found it when she was cleaning. It's been safe in the library where you left it that morning. I'll bring it tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” Beth's grin widened. “This has been the most perfect day.”

“Yes,” Mary Margaret said, laughing. “God gives us joy in small measure.” She grinned. “If He didn't, we wouldn't be able to take it all in.”

B
right stars twinkled overhead when Beth was caught up with the flow of Indians who moved to the council lodge Saturday just after sundown. All day an air of expectancy had hung over the camp. Beth wasn't sure what was happening, but apparently the Cherokee were preparing for a celebration. The camp had been alive with preparations in anticipation of the event.

Pierce wandered into the large room, and his eyes located the open spot beside Beth. Settling on the blanket next to her, he answered her unspoken question. “I believe we're about to witness a wedding.”

Embarrassed, Beth glanced down at her beat-up dress.

Chuckling, the captain said quietly, “We are fortunate to be allowed to attend this event. The bride is the chief's granddaughter. She and the groom have traveled far in order for the chief to perform the ceremony.” His gaze skimmed her and rested on her face. “You look very pretty, blistered dress and all.”

“You're too kind.”

Her eyes traced Joanie and Gray Eagle seated in the front row. They looked for all the world like a couple. The picture nagged at Beth. Soon she and Joanie would be moving on and Gray Eagle would be gone. Didn't Joanie understand that this brief interlude was only that? Brief. She halted her thoughts as the wedding couple approached the council fire. Beth's breath caught with the bride's beauty. Her eyes rested on the simple white embroidered deerskin dress and white doeskin moccasins. She carried a matching bag. The groom wore a rose-colored shirt, black pants, and moccasins.

Beth recalled the afternoon's hectic activities. Women had torn pieces of fabric into squares and rectangles. She now indentified those pieces as part of the wedding attire—the couple was also wrapped in blankets.

Leaning toward Pierce, she whispered, “Why blankets?” Outside, the air was suffocating.

“The blankets represent their old ways: weakness, sorrow, failures, and spiritual depression.”

Beth's eyes focused on the two older couples who accompanied the bride and groom to the fire. She assumed they must be the parents.

She recognized the “holy man” when he stepped to the fire and blessed the union in a deep baritone. The ceremony was elaborate, and Beth didn't understand a word the chief said, but the affection that shone through the bride's and groom's eyes was evident.

Beth's eyes moved again to her sister, and she noted that Joanie was clasping Gray Eagle's hand. She frowned. What were they thinking? Displaying their affection so freely would only cause trouble.

Shifting back to the wedding couple, she saw that they were now exchanging woven baskets. The groom's contained meat and skins.

Pierce spoke close to her ear. “His gift signifies his promise to feed and clothe her.”

The bride accepted the basket and then offered hers. Bread and corn.

“Her offering represents her promise to nurture and support him.”

The simple beauty unfolding before her left Beth breathless. Nodding, she silently reached for Pierce's hand. The gesture was unlike anything she'd ever done. His strong fingers closed tightly around hers as the couple shed their blankets and relatives approached wrapping them in white ones.

Pierce said softly, “The white blanket signifies their new way of happiness, fulfillment, and peace.”

Beth turned her head to look at him, and the captain's eyes locked with hers mere inches away. In that intimate moment, Beth felt her waning doubts melt like spring snow.

Doubts regarding men and God. She had seen her sister's faith lived out day in and day out. Even when she failed, Joanie believed God loved and accepted her. She had been crushed under Walt's abuse as well as the curse of a weak body, but she had never lost hope. And now look at her. Not only had God answered her prayers, He had given her the deepest desires of her heart. Years of Joanie's teachings and Bible readings suddenly made sense to Beth.

You are there, God. You really are
.

Dancers appeared in brightly colored dress, pulling her attention away from her thoughts and back to the ceremony. They stomped and whooped and chanted. Soon a prayer was issued unlike any prayer Beth had ever heard before. Not on bended knees or privately in a closet. And there were no beautiful beads. Only the holy man saying a prayer of blessing to end the ceremony.

Leaving the tent a little while later, Beth discovered she was again holding Pierce's hand. On the walk back to their pallets, they shared a companionable silence.

Finally she said, “The ceremony was beautiful.”

She had only ever seen one other wedding. It was for one of the pickers, but the couple had looked more trapped than anything else. The couple tonight seemed meant to be together.

“It was. They appeared to be deeply in love.” He squeezed her hand as he glanced at her. “Sorry about tackling you to the ground this morning—”

“Actually, I should thank you—I need to thank you. You couldn't let me go up in flames.” They met each other's eyes in the moonlight, and Beth's heartbeat sped up. A silver glow outlined his strong profile. He looked so handsome.

“No. I couldn't do that.”

Two hours ago Beth would have considered the term “deeply in love” laughable. But tonight, after witnessing the beginning of a new family, the words made sense. They were enviable—and scary. The recognition that God was indeed there had shaken her. Tonight, when she prayed, she would tell the Lord that He could now truly claim her as one of His own, but if Beth were truthful, she knew she'd always been His child. True, a wayward one who needed an extra guiding hand, supplied by Joanie and Mary Margaret, but a child nonetheless.

Captain Montgomery didn't speak often of spiritual matters, but Beth saw the way he treated people, how he observed God's commandments. He had to know God to share the story he'd told the day of the picnic.
Push the rock, Beth. You don't have to move it
.

Stars winked overhead. A soft, honeysuckle-scented wind blew. Joanie had spoken once of the Garden of Eden. Surely it must look and feel something like this. God was easily discernible once she looked for Him.

Approaching the lodge she shared with Joanie, Beth's pulse quickened. They stopped walking and Pierce moved closer, his gaze on her lips. He was going to kiss her again. The knowledge was as real as the sound of laughter and the joy permeating the camp. She'd only been kissed by another boy once, and that was a stolen peck behind a row of tomatoes when she was fourteen. The attempt had been more childish silliness than romantic, and she never liked the boy anyway, but a man's kiss…one from this man…Her mouth went dry. He leaned forward and she closed her eyes when the sound of hoofbeats filled her ears.

They moved apart and turned toward the approaching rider. “Who would be visiting at this late hour?” Beth sensed that the visitor was friend. A call from a scout would have gone out if it were otherwise.

The horse and rider came into view, escorted by a young Indian. Beth's heart lodged in her throat when she recognized Reverend Mother. There was no good reason for her to come hurrying into camp at this late hour. Something was wrong! Dropping Pierce's hand, she raced to the horse. “Reverend Mother? Is someone ill?”

The nun met Beth's and then Pierce's eyes. “I hesitate to disturb you, Captain, but can you come back to the abbey with me?” She looked at Beth again. “You too, child.”

“What is it?”

Reverend Mother averted her eyes. “I can't say here, but I would deeply appreciate your coming.”

Glancing at Beth, Pierce said, “I'll get my horse.” He turned and strode off.

Beth drew closer to the nun. “What's wrong? Is someone ill?” The sight of blood didn't bother her, and she'd wrapped many a nasty-looking injury. She wanted to help if she could.

Despite the offer Reverend Mother's stern expression remained firmly in place. The sobriety in her expression chilled Beth. She stared at her, suddenly wondering if the emergency were somehow connected to her. But how could that be?

A few moments later Pierce galloped up astride his horse. “We'll follow you.”

Nodding, Reverend Mother turned her mare and the animal moved off.

Pierce offered Beth a hand. He swung her up behind him. Then the sounds of his horse's hooves filled the air as they hurried after Reverend Mother.

Moonlight filtered through the sugar maples as the horses made for the abbey. Visions of the kindhearted nuns lying sick or incapacitated filled Beth's thoughts. Had they come down with consumption? Once Uncle Walt's slaves had suffered with something like that, and so many—young and old—died. The horses quickly covered the short distance, and soon they rode into the silent yard. Not a breeze stirred.

Pierce dismounted and turned to help Beth down. Then he stepped over to the aged nun, who was already in the process of tying up her animal. “Allow me, Reverend Mother.”

“Nonsense.” Her tone bristled as she glanced nervously at the abbey. “I've been taking care of horses since before you were a babe in swaddling clothes.”

Pierce just left her to it, and moments later they strode to the abbey. Reverend Mother was uncommonly silent during the short walk, which further alarmed Beth. Just how sick was everyone? Could she risk carrying the disease to Joanie?

Entering through the kitchen, the three paused at the sight that met them. The sisters sat at the table, wearing white nightdresses. Their hair was mussed, and they all looked half blind. None were wearing their spectacles. Beth searched for Mary Margaret, and her heart thumped in her chest. The bubbly nun looked as scared as a spring jackrabbit, and no wonder.

Standing behind the row of sisters, Uncle Walt and Bear grinned wickedly as they pointed their shotguns at the frightened women.

Beth's heart sank. This was Walt's trap. She whirled to face Reverend Mother, and the nun spoke, “God forgive me. I had no choice.”

Beth turned back to assess her uncle and cousin. They were covered in ugly red welts.

“What happened to you?” Pierce asked in a detached, calm voice.

Walt's face screwed into a snarl. “I'll git you for this, Montgomery.”

Stepping forward, Pierce said sternly, “Then point those guns at me.”

“Don't do it, Pa.” Bear's voice was tinged with a whine. “He's a sneaky one.” Lifting the stock of the rifle, he scratched a welt on the tip of his nose.

“Gentleman,” Pierce said, “this fight's between the three of us. Let the sisters go back to bed so we can settle our differences like men.”

Walt's gun lifted now, centering on Pierce's chest. “Let's don't, Montgomery. I'm on to your tricks.”

Beth's vision swirled. She couldn't let Uncle Walt and Bear hurt Pierce or these women. They served the Lord and never hurt anybody. She stepped forward too. “It's me you want. Let the sisters go and I'll come with you, Uncle Walt.”