The One Who Waits for Me (4 page)

“Ma'am, your uncle's right. I have no authority here.”

“You have every authority to save us if we ask you. This man is evil, and he'll beat us.”

Glancing away, Pierce gathered his thoughts. Fifty miles from home and he had to run into this. The last thing he wanted was trouble. Silence stretched as he considered the matter. Beth's clutch tightened.

“I'd be happy to help, ma'am, but it sounds like a family feud, one we got no call to intrude on.” He turned around a bit to really get a good look at her.

“It isn't,” she said. Hazel eyes met his. “This man means nothing to us.”

He cocked a brow. “I heard you call him ‘uncle.'”

“He is our uncle,” the sick girl managed between breaths. “But he doesn't care a whit about us. He's mean and hateful, and he only wants us to pick his cotton.”

The uncle spit and then added a curse. “You ungrateful…” His words trailed off. Pierce glanced at the man. Common sense told him to ride on.

“You can't leave us.” Beth's gaze locked with his again. “You have to help us!” Hysteria now tinged her voice.

Pierce silently went over the options. He could risk a shootout and get himself and his friends killed over a family squabble, or he could set down the women, ride on, and avoid the conflict. Though from the look of terror in both the women's eyes he suspected their fate might indeed be perilous. His gaze moved to Gray Eagle, trying to gauge his expression.

Fight
.

Then to Preach.

I'm game
.

“If this is a family spat, it's none of our business,” he quietly reminded his companions.

“On the other hand,” Preach argued, “if the women are in real trouble and we're ridin' away, what does that say about us?” His kind dark eyes clouded with concern. “Family or not, what happens to these females if what they say is true?”

His leather saddle creaked when Pierce turned to face forward again. “It's your call, gentlemen. I'm just part of the group like the rest of you.”

Gray Eagle spoke up, addressing the two strangers. “I say you two had better move on. We're escorting the women out of the smoke.”

Pierce sighed. He just wanted to claim his piece of land, build a cabin, and settle down. Drink sweet tea. He shifted in his saddle again.

The battle-fatigued soldiers were hot, tired, and in no mood for a delay—and in even less of a mood, it seemed, to abandon a couple of innocent, fearful females. “Move aside. We're coming through.”

Preach whooped, his mahogany skin glistening with sweat in the blistering sun. “Yes, sir! We're comin' through!”

“You and whose army?” the uncle sneered.

This was not going to be pleasant.

With a leap, Bear went after Pierce while his father attacked Gray Eagle. Pierce thrust his reins at Beth as he dropped from the saddle. She quickly moved his horse to the side of the road, dismounted, and hurried over to Preach. He gently lowered Joanie into Beth's arms and then went to join the fight. Grunts, the sound of fists meeting flesh, and curses flew. With a hard left, Pierce dealt a swift blow to the younger man, but Pierce's foe was instantly back on his feet, now lunging for Preach.

Burying Joanie's head in her shoulder, Beth held her there, her eyes fixed on the ruckus. Blows and shouts echoed. She had witnessed many a melee in the cotton field, but she'd never seen men fight with such precision, such commanding, brute force. The captain took his blows, but his large hands were weapons easily subduing her cousin. Almost as soon as it had started, the fracas was over. Bear and Walt lay unconscious on the road.

Wiping a drop of blood from his lip, the captain shot a triumphant grin at his friends. “You were a little slow on the uptake, Preach.”

“I had your back all the way, Captain.” The black man grinned.

“And here I thought you had mine,” Gray Eagle grunted, knocking dirt off his buckskin vest. He flashed a bloody grin. “Actually, I was covering both of you little sissies!” The men whooped, exchanged some hard hand slaps, and then turned to the women.

Beth's mouth gaped as her gaze shifted to her unconscious kin.

Pierce bent, and with one large hand he gently lifted her to her feet while Preach attended to Joanie. The black man's expression went from joyful to grim. “We got real trouble here, Captain. She ain't breathing.”

Stepping to the woman's side, Pierce knelt and the two men feverishly set to work. Pierce listened to her chest. Beth stood back, a hand over her mouth to hold back paralyzing fear. How she wished she'd learned how to pray. Joanie had tried to teach her, but Beth decided long ago that prayer was wasted breath. She'd watched Joanie pray for release from Uncle Walt so often and so long that she'd decided He couldn't exist. At least He didn't care for them. Her gaze centered on the men's grave expressions.

Don't leave me, Joanie. You're all I have. If you die
—she couldn't finish the thought. If Joanie died, Beth wouldn't want to live.

I should have told Walt where the deed is hidden. Nothing is worth Joanie's life. This is punishment for burning the shanty and running away. I should have known Walt would never let us escape
.

Her sister lay on the ground, silent. So silent. Even as the stifling smoke moved closer. Burying her mouth in her sleeve, Beth sobbed. The black man they called Preach rose and took her gently by the shoulders, easing her a short distance away. “I know you're scared and hurtin', ma'am, but you got to stand aside and give us room to help your sister.”

Beth's eyes searched the prone woman. “Is she…”

His soft molasses-colored eyes tore at her heartstrings. Joanie was dead.

“Are you a praying woman, ma'am?”

Beth mutely shook her head.

“Ah…” He flashed a tender smile. “Then I'll be standing in the gap for you.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, not really sure what he meant but sensing the kindness in his words. She might have never fully gained faith in God, but Joanie's belief never wavered. If it were Beth lying in the road and Joanie were watching, she'd be on her knees petitioning Him for her sister's life. Slipping to the ground, she clasped her hands and bowed her head, hoping that if there was a God He'd see that she was trying. She hoped He'd hear the black man's prayer.

Finally, Beth heard her sister's breath catch in a whoosh. Fighting now, Joanie tried to stave off Pierce's supporting hands. Beth rose and half crawled, half walked to her sister's side, where she knelt and whispered, “It's okay, Joanie. You're going to be fine.” Joanie's questioning gaze searched the captain's eyes. The coughing started again.

Preach whispered, “That was close.”

“Too close.” Pierce rose, his height towering above Beth's. “Saddle up. We have to get her out of this smoke.”

He carried Joanie to her uncle's horse and lifted her onto the saddle. She seemed to be breathing a bit easier, and she smiled at him appreciatively. Once he was sure she wouldn't collapse again he glanced around. Moving to Beth's side, he gently tapped her nose. “You didn't actually think we were going to ride off and leave you to fend for yourselves?”

Beth found her voice. It was a sputter. “Ye…Yes!” She had never met a man that would stand up to Walt Jornigan. Her eyes focused on the other two men, who were tying up the troublemakers.

Pierce reached for the saddle horn of Bear's horse and pulled up on the reins. “You don't talk much, do you?”

“Only when I have something to say.”

He handed her the reins and motioned for her to mount up. A mischievous split-lip grin met her. “I take it you're not much interested in talking to me.”

“No, sir.” She glanced away as he lifted her effortlessly onto the seat. “No offense intended.”

“None taken.” He mounted his horse and picked up his own reins. “Come on. We're getting out of here.”

“Wait.” He'd have to know about the woman she and Joanie were headed to meet. They couldn't ride off and leave her. The fellow cotton picker was waiting beside the road, no doubt gasping for breath in the heavy smoke. She knew Trella wouldn't move until she and Joanie came. “I…I have to tell you something.”

He nudged his horse forward. “It'll have to wait until we get clear of the smoke.” Leather creaked when the other soldiers mounted up.

“It can't wait.” She grabbed his hand and forced him to look at her. “Trella is waiting up the road.”

“Trella?” Wrinkles between his nose and forehead deepened.

“Our friend.”

His jaw dropped. “Another female?”

She nodded.

“More kin?”

“No, a field worker who also desperately wants to escape Uncle Walt.” She took a breath. “I set fire to the homestead, but the wind came up and the field caught—”

“I guessed as much. But what's this about Trella? You didn't mention her earlier.”

“I was meaning to mention her. She's waiting about a mile up the road.”
I'm doing this for Trella. Joanie and I don't need to be a burden on these strangers
, she told herself. The brush with Uncle Walt and Bear had been close, but Beth was sure they were safe now. She'd take Joanie and find their land, but Trella would need help. She was defenseless, especially with the war not long past. She glanced at the captain again, deciding. She'd let him think she was depending on him for her safety—for the time being. Then she and Joanie would break away.

Pierce put his forefingers to his lips and whistled. The sharp sound caught the others' attention and they reined up.

“What is it?” Gray Eagle called. Smoke rolled from the fields.

“Change of plans!” Pierce said.

Grumbles rose as the two men rode back. “What now?” Preach asked. “We have to get the girl out of this smoke. She can barely draw a breath.”

“There's one more waiting up ahead.”

The men turned incredulous looks to peer through the thick haze. Gray Eagle spoke first. “One more what?”

“Woman.”

Heads swerved back. Pierce's eyes switched to Beth. “She says there's another women waiting up ahead. They're all running away together.”

Into the brief but tense silence that followed that announcement, Preach voiced the obvious, “This complicates the situation.”

Pierce shook his head. “That's an understatement, but obviously we can't leave them here. As soon as the uncle and cousin come around, they'll be after them.” He appeared to weigh the situation, one Beth was certain he didn't welcome. How far did one go to be a Good Samaritan? As far as rescuing three women?

Shaking his head, he said, “We don't have a choice. We take them with us.”

“To the first settlement we come across,” Gray Eagle clarified.

“To the first settlement.”

Beth wilted with relief. Pierce glanced down. “To the next town,” he confirmed. “Then you and your friends are on your own.”

“Yes, sir.”

Pierce picked up the reins. “You don't have to call me sir. My name is Pierce.” His teasing mood had vanished with the latest delay.

“Mister,” she corrected nicely. He might have saved her neck, but she wasn't going to be beholden to “Pierce.” Any man worth a grain of salt would have done the same. Other than with Walt and Bear, she had never referred to a man by his given name, and she wasn't about to start now.

“And your last name?”

“Call me Beth.” When she left here she never wanted to hear the name Jornigan again.

He tested the name. “Beth. Pretty name, Beth.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Miss Beth,” she said primly. Nobody had ever called her “Miss” before, but from now on men were going to show some respect.

“Miss Beth? Then you can call me Pierce Daniel Montgomery the Third.”

She bristled at the formal title. He was true Arcadian. The soft French tones came through loud and clear. “I thought you said to call you Pierce.”