The One Who Waits for Me (33 page)

Preach's relieved tone agreed. “Craziest notion I've ever heard. I've never been personally called by the good Lord to do anything except get saved on a Sunday morning when I was nine years old.”

“Well, maybe He found another thing you need to do,” Pierce noted.

“Now don't go saying that! I got to get on home, Pierce. I haven't seen my family in years.”

“Nor have I,” Gray Eagle said. He glanced at Pierce. “Are you taking this seriously?”

“Are you?”

Gray Eagle shook his head. “I don't like to be put on the spot, and I'm about as far from a disciple as a man can get. Start a town? The three of us?”

“Count me out,” Preach said. “If you want to stay, Pierce, you stay, but I'm going home.” He lifted his chin. “I haven't heard any calling other to spell my pa.”

Pierce glanced at Gray Eagle. “And you?”

Gray Eagle pursed his lips in thought. “At first my reaction was to say no, but now…maybe. I don't want to leave Joanie. And if she goes she won't have access to the pools. They're the only thing that helps her breathe.”

Pierce set his jaw, and then agreed. “And I don't want to leave Beth, though she's a wildcat. How will the women view this cockeyed notion?” Beth—to his knowledge—was still getting used to the idea of talking to God. “Those three women don't have a real plan. They think they do, but what sort of plan is it to take them and the baby to a community and just leave them there?”

“Don't forget Beth has land too. The community is just a stopover until Joanie is well and they can settle on their property.”

“Is that right?” Preach said. “Well, I've been studying about it all day, and I can't say that I want to leave Trella or Esther.” He groaned softly. “Oh, man. If…
if
we stay and put our trust in Reverend Mother's ‘vision,' then what?”

“She didn't say she had a vision, and Reverend Mother doesn't have anything to do with the decision. We have to put our full trust in the Almighty.”

“So,” Gray Eagle said thoughtfully, “we're supposed to drop our lives, settle down here, and build a town.”

“A town called Sanctuary,” Pierce supplied.

“And then wait for troubled souls to come our way,” Preach finished.

“There'll be a stampede,” Pierce said, frowning. “Do you think God answers all prayers?”

“I've had a few go unnoticed,” Gray Eagle admitted.

“That don't mean He didn't answer,” Preach said. “Just that God knew better than to give you the answer you were looking for.”

The men fell silent, each wrapped in his own thoughts. One thing Pierce knew for certain; there'd be a lot of praying going on tonight, and he had a hunch the answers wouldn't be to their liking.

Or understanding.

Glancing up, he muttered, “Never even thought about starting a town.”
Me? Pierce Montgomery advising anyone on how to live their life?
The idea was laughable. He'd disappointed Pa. He fought for the North, wasn't married yet, and his sole ambition was to drink sweet tea.

Then it hit him. Beth's land—the deed she kept in Joanie's Bible. His heart sank. Was it possible she had purchased the same piece of property from a good-hearted nun who had no right to sell it?

Shaking his head, he said quietly, “Maybe the sister has an inside track on what God wants us to do.” Then he smiled, somehow at peace with that idea.

F
og shrouded the massive rock overhang when Gray Eagle led the way up the steep incline. Pierce hadn't known this section of the camp existed. He and Preach and the Indian scout had walked for more than a mile before they found the secluded place where the chief went for morning prayer.

When Gray Eagle paused, Pierce saw the object of their search. The chief stood tall and proud, his eyes fixed on the far horizon, his black hair streaked with silver ruffling in the light breeze. He turned, his gaze centering on the intruders. Stepping aside, Pierce let Gray Eagle assume the spokesman's role.

“Forgive us, Chief. I know this is private time for you—”

Focusing on the scout, he said, “Speak.”

Stepping closer, Gray Eagle said quietly, “I have come to ask yet another great favor.”

The chief's dark brow quirked. “You ask many favors, son of Walks-with-Sun.”

“Always for the good of others.”

The chief nodded. “Continue.”

“Reverend Mother summoned us last night to supper.”

“I know of the matter.”

“The sisters consulted you about their desire?”

“When one asks for special privileges, it is wise to consult with the affected party.”

“You speak the truth in grace and knowledge.”

“Go on.”

“You know that the nuns have asked that we start a new community, one adjoining Cherokee land?”

“I do.”

“The order wants me, Pierce, and Preach to form an… unusual town.”

A hint of a smile touched the Indian's features. “At least you ask.”

“I want to consider your feelings on the matter.”

The chief's eyes skimmed Pierce and Preach before coming back to the Indian scout. “You have decided to accept the task?”

Gray Eagle shook his head. “Before making a decision, I seek your permission.”

Turning back to face the lifting dawn, the Cherokee chief fell silent. The day gradually brightened. It appeared to Pierce that he was staring at his past, acres and acres of former Cherokee land now divided among immigrants. Time had caught up with the man, his once-tall frame shrunken, his eyes not as vibrant, his senses dulled. Many heartbreaking changes had taken place in his lifetime, yet his heritage was still a symbol of the proud nation that refused to walk the Trail of Tears. Pierce wondered how the events of his life had not left him a broken man.

An inordinately long stretch of time passed before he spoke again. “I love this land. It is not the place of my birth, but I have enjoyed its bounty for many years.” His gaze skimmed the gently rolling hills and deep ravines as tears rolled down his cheeks. “The wife of my heart is buried nearby. She was twenty summers when the Great Spirit claimed her.”

Pierce shuffled, uncomfortable with the sight of the great man's grief.

“The sisters have been good to my people,” the chief continued. “The land they offer is not Cherokee land.”

“No, but it is the pools that the sisters also ask for.”

“Ah…the pools.”

“If we start this community that the Reverend Mother visualizes,” Gray Eagle went on, “we will need use of them. They have brought great help to the one called Joanie. She is able to breathe here. If what the sisters ask comes from the Great White Father, then He will use the comforting waters for the good of many.”

Pierce watched varying emotions play across the chief's features. Pain. Sorrow. Hope. Despair. They were asking him to share yet another part of his heritage with the white man. After long thought, he turned to face Gray Eagle.

“Our tribe, like the sisters, withers like a plant without water. Soon now we will be forced to make our summer camp where the buffalo isn't as abundant, depleting our ability to feed our children. Already the white man has killed so many.”

“The sisters are not asking that you give up your land,” Gray Eagle said. “Only that you allow limited access to the hot pools.”

“Limited?” The Indian chuckled. “You cannot make such a promise. For many years strangers have come from far away in search of the pools. We have turned all away but the good women in black and your Joanie.”

“We will do the same.” Gray Eagle's eyes met the patriarch's. “Only the ones in most need of the waters will be allowed to use them. I make you this promise.”

“You will be the judge of such important matters?”

“Not I or Pierce or Preach. The Great Spirit will send the neediest.”

“If I refuse your request, what will keep you from using the pools?”

“Nothing but my word.” Gray Eagle's somber gaze met his. “I give you my pledge I will honor your land as my own.”

“So you have decided to accept the task.”

Shifting to face Pierce and Preach, who had remained silent during the exchange, Gray Eagle said quietly, “Yes. And these men, my friends, offer their word also.”

“I can trust this word?”

“You can trust.”

The chief turned back to stare at the now-risen sun, which was casting brilliant beams across the rich fertile land below. The sound of the gurgling pools met them. Pockets of steam rose from their waters. “If my people are able to make the long journey come spring, we will be welcomed and left alone?”

“Yes. You have my word.”

His dark gaze shifted from man to man. Finally he said, “The pools belong to the Great White Father. They are not mine to give. You have my blessing to use them during the long winter months.”

“We would need the summers too.”

“This I will consider when I see this new town you will create. If the land or pools are misused…”

Pierce spoke up. “They won't be, sir.”

The chief's sharp gaze pinned him. “I offer this grace to the Cherokee, not to the white man.”

“Yes, sir.”

Turning, the men walked away and the chief lifted both hands in a pleading stance toward the rising sun.

Morning prayer had begun.

J
oanie clung to Gray Eagle's arm the next morning. This would be the last time she'd feel the strength of his touch and revel in the warmth of his eyes. All things ended. Joanie had known this since she was a young child, but the reality of losing Gray Eagle was intolerable. “You will be leaving soon?”

“Yes.” He focused on the thorny path that led to the hot pools. A smile played around his lips. “For a while.”

“For a while?” Her heart skipped. What did that smile mean? “For a while indicates that you plan to return.”

“It does.”

Footsteps pausing, she turned to face him. “Gray Eagle, stop teasing me. Are you leaving forever or are you coming back?”

“Would my answer make a difference to you?”

“Yes.” Her tone dropped to a whisper. Propriety didn't concern her. If all it took to bring him back was a yes, then she would shout it from the rooftops!

“I will come back.” His grin widened. “You haven't spoken with Beth yet this morning?”

“No. Pierce came by earlier and asked her to join him on a walk.”

They approached the pools, and after taking off her socks and boots, Joanie stepped barefooted into the swirling water. Gray Eagle followed.

“Why did you ask me if I'd spoken with my sister?”

“If she had come back from her conversation with Pierce, and you'd spoken to her, you'd know that there's a plan in the making.”

She dipped her hand into the warm water and let it filter through her fingers. “What plan?”

“Don't you want to sit first?”

She murmured, “Apparently I should. You sound so mysterious.” Settling into the water, she met his gaze. “Now, tell me the secret.”

“No secret.”

“Surprise?”

Moving beside her, he said softly, “I doubt that what I have to say will come as a total surprise.”

“Which would be?”

“How would you feel about living here?”

“Here? At the camp?”

“Close by.”

Her breath left her. Stay here, at this tiny piece of heaven? Was it possible? “I would love it, but there's no way…”

“There's always a way.”

“How?”

“Last night, the sisters invited us for supper—”

“And?”

“They offered us a parcel of land adjoining the convent.”

“Why?”

“Reverend Mother asked us to form a small community.”

“Here?”

“Here.” His grin resurfaced. “The town will be called Sanctuary. It will be a place of refuge where the downtrodden can come to find peace and healing.”

“Reverend Mother has the authority to give you this land?”

“It would appear so.” His eyes locked with hers. “What do you say, Joanie Jornigan? Should we stay?”

“We?” She mouthed the word as she drowned in the love she saw in the depths of his eyes. “But, Gray Eagle, you said you had to leave.”

Nodding, he said, “For a while—a short while. I will go home to see my family, see that they have survived and are well, and then I will return.”