The One Who Waits for Me (27 page)

He hated the plant as badly as cold winters without a coat, but there was a certain irony that he didn't miss. A smirk tilted the corners of his mouth.

Stepping carefully, he dumped Walt in the itchy weed, and then moved to haul Bear to an even larger bed.

Twenty minutes later, he stood back and surveyed his work. Both men were now in fetal positions, hands and feet secured, in a sizable patch of poison ivy.

The second part had been tricky but worth the effort. He'd located a large beehive, and then with determined finesse, he'd taken out his pocket knife and made a long pole from a hickory stick. He managed to work enough honey from the hive to make a face cream for Beth's uncle and cousin. He'd heard honey was good for the skin. No, wait a minute. Maybe that was milk.

Straightening, he searched the fields. Speaking of milk, too bad a cow wasn't nearby…

So what else could he do to strongly hint that they ought to give up and go home?

He worked another ten minutes, smearing thick honey on the snoring men's faces—he even dropped a taste or two on their slack tongues. They twitched and tried to swat his stick away but never woke up.

After wiping his hands on the grass, he picked up the men's firearms, careful to check their clothing for any additional ammunition or weapons.

Overhead, bees buzzed.

Walking back to the road, he stored the guns in his saddlebags. Then he grabbed the reins of the two horses and his mare and turned back to admire his work. If this didn't quench a man's doggedness, he didn't know what would.

His gaze focused on the sleeping men. They were clever enough to shed the ropes once they sobered up, but they would be mighty uncomfortable for a few days. And they'd better have their running boots on. They were going to need them.

Shaking his head, he mounted. Pity some folk had to be so worrisome.

Gray Eagle was back at the camp when Pierce returned. He nodded to the captain. “The nuns are fine. They said they haven't seen Walt and Bear around.”

“That's good to know.” After seeing to the horses, the men fell into step.

“What did you do with them?” Gray Eagle asked.

“Not much. Walt and Bear were sleeping it off when I left.”

“You didn't end the matter?”

“Wasn't in the mood.”

Gray Eagle sent Pierce a questioning look.

“Short of killing them,” Pierce said, “I don't know what to do. So I tried a little friendly persuasion.”

“We can't let them shoot into camp.”

“No, we can't. But unless it's self-defense, what can we do?”

The men met questioning gazes as they walked. Beth ran to greet them. “What did you do with them?”

“Gave them a little comeuppance,” Pierce said. “Don't worry about them.”

Was that appreciation he saw? Affection?
Careful, Montgomery. Those big eyes are getting to you
.

Gray Eagle smiled at Beth. “Where is Joanie?”

“She's on her pallet. The excitement aggravated her cough.”

Grim-faced, Gray Eagle excused himself and walked away.

Beth walked along beside Pierce. “What did they do? Walt and Bear?”

Pausing, he turned to face her. “They didn't
do
anything. I believe our lunch was interrupted. I'm starved. Is there anything to eat?”

“Um…sure. I'll fix you something.”

“Thanks. I'll be back shortly. I want to clean honey off my hands.”

“Honey?”

“I'll be back shortly,” he said again with a wink. He watched her walk off and wondered if he should have done more to keep Walt and Bear from her and Joanie. He could have ended the matter there and then, but that would mean leaving, and he was getting sort of comfortable in his misery. If the pests rode into camp and demanded Joanie in exchange for Beth's knowledge of where the deed was hidden, he and Gray Eagle would do what needed to be done.

He'd had his fill of the game.

J
oanie opened her eyes and met Gray Eagle's affectionate gaze.

“You are a beautiful woman, Joanie Jornigan.”

“I've been thinking about you.” She sat upright on her pallet, fussing with her hair “When you didn't come back right away, I started to worry.”

The scout sat cross-legged near her bedroll. “I have been chasing—what is the white-man's term? Fools?”

Grinning, Joanie reached for his hand. He had strong, long fingers hardened by the elements. She drew his right hand to her nose and breathed deeply of his scent. “Fool is an unflattering term.”

“I can think of nothing pleasing to say about your uncle and cousin.”

She started to reply when she was seized by a wracking cough.

His face darkened. “The cough has returned?”

With a sigh she held tightly to his hand and summoned a sense of humor. “Gunshots tend to make it worse.” She smiled. “I'm okay. Really I am.”

“It is time for our walk.”

Joanie laughed when he stood and scooped her up into his powerful arms.

Her eyes scanned the camp, looking to see if anyone noticed his action. “You're making a scene.” His strength easily held her slight weight.

“So I am.” Carrying her straight through the camp, he acknowledged curious eyes with an English greeting. “Good afternoon. Lovely weather.”

Mouths dropped open. Women smiled shyly behind their hands. Gray Eagle didn't seem to care one bit. He walked proudly, as if proclaiming his love in the action. Joanie gazed at his face adoringly.
Do I love you too?
The answer came before she had a chance to finish the thought.

Joanie's breath caught when Gray Eagle waded into the pools of bubbling water and gently lowered her into heavenly relief. Closing her eyes, she lay quietly and allowed the heat to ease her aches. The vapors opened her head and lungs, and the cough and wheezing gradually subsided.

“Better?” he asked after a good half hour. Concern filled his voice. His compassion made her light-headed with emotion. She had fallen in love with this quiet man—this man who was far kinder and more handsome than any man she had ever read or dreamed about. His touch brought goose bumps. The intensity of his dark eyes was as sweet and rich as thick molasses.
Beth
. She couldn't allow Beth to know the depths of her feelings for him. She would never approve the relationship. If eyes could speak, his would whisper that he also felt the growing bond.

Slipping away from her, he floated on his back in the water, smiling. “I know now why these springs are so revered.”

“Heaven must be a little like this,” she mused.

He smiled. “Yes. I believe it must be.”

“Gray Eagle.”

“Hmm?”

“Tell me a story.” The children's eyes had lit with excitement when Gray Eagle had spoken to them the other night. His deep voice had carried through the camp, sweeping the listeners away as he told the owl legend.

“Wouldn't you rather relax?” His drowsy tone indicated his preference—to simply enjoy the water.

“I understand if you're too tired, but I love to hear your stories. You had everyone enthralled with your tale of the owl and rabbit.”

Paddling back to her, he settled on the shallow pool's bottom. “They are not my stories. They are the stories of my ancestors.”

“But you chose the white way.”

“I chose both ways,” he confessed. “The legends and stories are part of my heritage, as well as the Bible.”

She reached to lightly trace the outline of his rugged features. “Tell me a story of your youth.”

Grinning, his gaze locked with hers. “You know how to direct my thoughts.”

Smiling back, she whispered, “I'm very devious.”

His eyes sobered. “You are so beautiful. Like a firefly, lighting my life. You rest lightly on my heart.”

Color tinged her cheeks. “That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me.”

He moved closer, hovering so near that she could feel the heat of his breath against her cheek. “May I kiss you, Joanie Jornigan?”

She had never been kissed before. Her heart skipped one, two beats, and she nodded. “After the story.”

Chuckling, he settled on one elbow, his gaze locked with hers. “What kind of story would you like to hear?”

“I don't know. Is there one about creation?”

“Genesis.”

Grinning, she settled back. “I'm familiar with that one. What is the Cherokee belief?”

“Far too complicated to explain in one sitting, but there are legends…” He eased closer again. Steam rose above their heads. “I will tell you a legend my father told me many times.”

Joanie smiled and lightly touched his cheek.

He closed his eyes. When he opened them, he began.

“Earth is floating on water like a big island, suspended from four rawhide ropes fastened at the top of the sacred four directions—”

“Sacred?”

“Shh…do not interrupt. This is my legend,” he teased more than scolded, and then he continued. “The sky's ceiling is made of hard rock crystal, and this is where the ropes are tied. When the ropes break, earth will come tumbling down and all living things will fall with it. Then it will be as if the earth had never existed, for water will cover it. Maybe the white man will be responsible for this act.”

When she was about to ask a question, he shushed her again with a finger to her lips. “Legend says that in the beginning, water covered everything. Though living creatures existed, their home was up there, above the rainbow, and it was crowded.

“‘We have no space. We need more room,' the animals said. So after a while they formed a plan and sent Water Beetle to look around.

“Water Beetle searched the waters for days but couldn't find any solid footing, so one afternoon he dived to the bottom and surfaced with a little dab of soft mud. Suddenly the mud spread out in four directions and formed this earth. Someone Powerful then fastened earth to the sky ceiling with ropes.

“The earth was flat, soft, and moist back then, and the animals were eager to live on it. They continued to send down various birds to see if the mud had dried and hardened enough to hold their weight. But the birds always came back to heaven and said that there was no place to land. They must wait longer.

“Grandfather Buzzard decided to go down and take a look for himself. Flying very close to the ground, he saw that the earth was still soft, but then he swooped lower over what would become Cherokee country, and he discovered that the mud was getting harder. By that time Grandfather was tired and spent. When he flapped his wings, they created a basin where the tips touched the earth and mountains in between.

“The animals watched from above the rainbow with amazement. Mother Blue Jay said, ‘If he keeps on, there will only be mountains!'

“‘Come back,' the birds called. ‘Come back!'”

He smiled. “That's why there are so many mountains on Cherokee land.”

“Gray Eagle…”

“Shh. There is more. Grandfather Buzzard flew back and told them of his amazing find. At last the earth was getting dry, so the animals descended. They couldn't see very well because there was no sun or moon to light their way, and so someone said, ‘Let's get Sun from behind the rainbow!'

“The animals used all of their might and pulled Sun down.

“Mr. Fox said, ‘Here's a road for you to follow.' He showed Sun the way to go…from east to west because Mr. Fox was very wise.

“Now the animals had light, but it was much too hot. Sun was too close to the earth. The Crawfish's back stuck out of a stream, and Sun burned it red. His meat was spoiled forever, they thought.

“Together the animals pushed Sun up as high as a man, but the burning light was still too hot. So they pushed Sun farther, but it wasn't far enough. After four times, they managed to get Sun up to the height of four men. Everyone agreed it was the best they could do, so they left him there.”