My Heart Stood Still (Sisters Of Mercy Flats 2) (13 page)

“
Sí
. Near the large tepee.”

Ollie clasped his hat to his head and strained to see around the boss’s shoulder. “Is the gold still in it?”

“I do not have eyes like the puma.”

The men turned when they heard Rodrigo jump back, hollering as a violent gust of wind shot a shower of sparks up the back of his coat. He hopped around the campsite, slapping at his back.

Butch stepped over to help. “Ah, you’ve done gone and burned a hole in your coat,” he chided. He smacked the smoldering embers with his gloved hand.

Rodrigo glared at him. “Mind your own business.”

Butch threw up his hands. “All right, all right, I was just a-tryin’ to help.”

“Stop your bickerin’,” Cortes called over his shoulder. “We have a long night in front of us.”

Ollie threw more wood on the fire and the four outlaws hunkered down, prepared to wait out the Indian, no matter how long it took.

“Sure hope they come out soon,” Ollie admitted. He blew on his hands.

“You are a sissy pants,” Cortes said. “Only Cortes knows
real
danger. Once, many years ago, his ship sank. Not one survived but Cortes. The waters, they were filled with sharks, they come and try to eat Cortes, but he fights them off bare-fisted and swim great distance. On shore, Cortes lost his boots in the water and had to walk five miles to find nearest shelter. There, he had to chase down a wild jackal and
kill it with only a tiny blade. Then Cortes must start a fire and there were no stones to strike together… ”

Ollie rolled his eyes and bent close to the others. “How many times do we tell Cortes we don’t believe his stories? When he gets confused he just gets mad and mean.”

“Jest let him talk,” Rodrigo advised. “We will close our ears.”

Berry Woman entered the medicine lodge on a gust of heavy wind. “Is he stronger?” she asked.

The old woman nodded. “You still favor this man.”

Berry Woman’s eyes focused on the injured man. “Storm Rider stole my heart when I had lived but twelve summers.” Smiling, she softly traced his sleeping features. “He rode into camp beside my brother, Bold Eagle, and remained among my people, teaching them the ways of the white man. He is wise and strong and an ample provider, having killed more buffalo than all the seasoned warriors combined. Every young maiden in camp envied me because Storm Rider spent his leisure hours with me. When the white men went to war, Storm Rider rode off to fight on the side of the bluecoats. I accepted his absence without question, for I knew, just as
Heammawihio
had promised, that one day Storm Rider would come for me and I would be the envy of every woman.”

A smile bowed the corners of her mouth. “Soon the war will be over and Storm Rider will be mine. He will ride into camp, long locks flying in the breeze, a single eagle feather braided in his flowing hair, his bronze chest bare except for the necklace of eagle claws and his splendid form encased in the finest deerskin breeches. His dark eyes will boldly search mine and claim me for his own.”

“Storm Rider and Bold Eagle will soon come to a proper agreement, and a wedding feast will be scheduled. It will be a great honor to have such a man for my husband.” Her smile faded when the young maiden saw that Storm Rider was trying to open his eyes.

As his vision cleared Creed saw Berry Woman bending over him, her smile as soft and welcome as a summer shower. He tentatively moved his leg, relieved to find the pain was no longer sharp and penetrating. When he struggled to sit up gentle hands lowered him back to the pallet.

“No, you must rest. It is too soon,” she scolded.

“Quincy—the gold… need to leave… ”

Berry Woman frowned. “Why can you not stay awhile with your people? Why must you always leave?”

“The woman has sisters awaiting her return. I must see her safely back home.”

“Why cannot the black man assume the woman’s care?”

Pride made him obstinate. “I assumed her care, and she expects me to reunite her with her family.”

Berry Woman’s jaw firmed. “I do not understand this.”

“There’s nothing to understand. The woman is not your concern.”

“But—”

“Enough.” Storm Rider spoke with authority. “You will see to the woman’s well-being.”

The young woman’s eyes lowered submissively. “Forgive me, Storm Rider. I will speak of this matter no more.”

Creed’s eyes closed and he started to drift off. “You will see that that no harm comes to her… ”

Her answer came as soft as a cloud. “Why would you think otherwise? Are our people not kind and courteous? Do we not care for our guests?”

“When I awake, bring her to me.”

Berry Woman nodded. “Rest.”

Later, the tepee flap opened to reveal a relieved Quincy. Creed looked up from his pallet and answered Quincy’s questioning gaze.

“I’m still alive. Much better thanks to Spirit Cloud’s healing herbs.”

“There was a time I thought you were a goner for sure.” Quincy sat down and crossed his legs. “Cortes and his hoodlums are camped half a mile away. No doubt they’re after the gold.”

“What about the posses?”

“Haven’t seen one since we left town. They must have turned back—but those outlaws won’t. What are we going to do about them?”

“I’m not sure,” Creed admitted. “I do know that we will need Bold Eagle’s help in order to get out of camp.”

“The chief will help?”

“Yes. Our bond is strong. He will help.”

“Want me to take Anne-Marie to her sisters while you recover? The gold should be safe here.”

Creed was silent for a moment. Anne-Marie had been nothing but a millstone around his neck. Why should he care if Quincy fulfilled his obligation? She was resourceful—more than capable of caring for herself. She could outthink a man and whip a bull with her free hand. It would serve her right to let her go it alone.

And yet she had practically saved his life. If she hadn’t gotten him to Eulalie he doubted that he would be here now. “The woman is my concern, and I will see that she is returned to Mercy Flats.” He would never see Anne-Marie again once he delivered her to Mercy Flats, but he would know that he had not fulfilled a man’s promise if he sent Quincy in his place. He’d seen what a legacy of broken promises had done to his mother, and he refused to be like his father.

“We’ll talk again later,” Creed said. His leg was beginning to throb, and he wanted to sleep now. “Send Anne-Marie to me.”

“You’re sure? She’s not in the best of moods today.”

“Send her to me.” Creed had dealt with every mood that woman could muster up. He welcomed the chance to best her.

“It’s your funeral, brother.”

Anne-Marie was busy rearranging her bedding when Quincy asked for permission to enter the tepee.

“It’s real chilly out there,” he began awkwardly when he stepped inside. He wasn’t looking forward to the conversation.

“What is it now, Mr. Adams?” She turned her back on him, a clear sign she resented his attempts to keep her in camp. She added more sticks to the fire.

“I just spoke with Creed.” Looking at her, he wondered how anyone could ever mistake her for a nun. There wasn’t a nun-ish thing about her, all nice curves and womanly softness.

She whirled and a mass of auburn hair tumbled around her face. Green eyes wide with concern faced him. The transformation was nothing short of jaw-dropping. “Is he better?”

“Somewhat.” Quincy willed his eyes away from the inviting sight and cleared his throat. “He’s feeling stronger. He wants you to come for a visit.” He paused. “He was hoping that you would stick around until he can take you to Mercy Flats.”

She frowned. “He would do that for me?”

“Yes, ma’am. If you’ll just hold on a few days until he’s able to ride.”

She turned back to the skins. “I’m not making any promises. He doesn’t deserve my loyalty—why, he hasn’t even asked to see me.”

“He just did. I told you, he wants to see you.”

“Too little too late.”

“Ma’am, he’s real sick. Now you need to use some common sense here. You can’t take off by yourself. This is rough country. A woman like you wouldn’t last any time at all in these wilds.” He eyed her appearance. He knew that what he was about to say was highly improper, but he couldn’t hold back. “Anne-Marie, would you be offended if I made a simple observation—one any red-blooded man could see?”

Shrugging, she fluffed a robe.

“A man would have to blind to not understand what’s got Creed howling up a tree.”

“Howling up a tree?” She straightened. “I don’t understand.”

“Excuse me. I shouldn’t have said that. But I want your promise that you won’t do anything foolish until Creed is stronger.”

“I’ll make no such promise. I’m leaving. I have been on my own since I was a mere child, and I know how to take care of myself.”

“You’ve always had your sisters with you. You provided protection for each other.”

“Abigail and Amelia know how to take care of themselves. If you want to help, get me a pony.”

“I can’t do that, woman!” Quincy ran a hand through his hair. “Creed says I’m to keep you here.”

“Since when is Creed my keeper? You have no control over my comings and goings. A few days ago we were total strangers. Now get me a few provisions and I’ll get out of your hair.”

“What hair? I’ll not have one left when Creed gets through with me.”