The One Who Waits for Me (8 page)

“We're going to let Uncle Walt take us back?”

“Do you have a better plan?”

Shaking her head, Joanie said, “Maybe it would be better to let him shoot us.”

Beth didn't disagree, but she didn't agree either. She was helpless and hopeless, but she wasn't ready to concede defeat yet.

Sneering, Walt flashed an ugly grin. “I can see those wheels turning, girlie.”

“I don't see how.” Beth pulled Joanie's trembling body closer. “I'm not thinking anything.”

“I'm not thinkin' anything,” he mocked. “I know you, girl. You're thinkin' plenty.”

“Am not.”

“You are!”

“Okay, I am. I'm thinking that we're hungry and thirsty.” They hadn't made much progress when Walt had decided to stop for the night, but that had been hours ago. He didn't like traveling in the dark this far from home. Beth wasn't certain where they were. Because of the circuitous route they had-taken, she was completely turned around.

“Oh, poor babies.” Walt glanced toward the fire. “BEAR! You're gonna burn the dad burn camp to cinders! Ease up on the wood!”

Straightening, Bear looked sheepish. “Sorry, Pa.”

Logs caught and the fire burned even hotter. Walt sat the shotgun down beside him, and by his expression he was thinking seriously about something. “We're gonna have to kill our supper.”

“Okay, Pa.”

“You go scare us up a few rabbits. I'll make a pot of coffee.”

“What kind?”

“What kind of what?”

“What kind of rabbit?”

“Dad burn it, boy, how many kinds are there?”

“Well, there are brown ones and black ones—”

“Jest get us some grub!” He swore under his breath. “Takes after his ma. That boy ain't got a lick of sense.”

Bear left, his shotgun tucked under his arm. Walt rose and walked to his horse, where he fished a coffee tin out of a leather saddlebag.

Joanie snuggled closer to Beth, making herself comfortable despite the knapsack on her back. “I'm so tired. I don't care if I eat or not.”

Beth wasn't hungry either. Her head ached, and she could hardly hold her eyes open. What a mess she'd gotten Joanie into—and Trella. Maybe they would have been better off picking cotton all day instead of running like criminals from Walt and Bear. Walt bent over the fire, scooping grounds into the pot. Eyeing his backside, Beth wondered if she was strong enough to kick him into the fire and scorch his worthless hide…

Shaking the ugly thought away, she closed her eyes, trying to form a plan. There had to be a way out of this.

Sounds of Bear thrashing through the bushes met the silence. If there was any game, it would be long gone by now.

The thicket snapped. More rustling bushes.

Joanie sat straight up. The fire popped. The faint smell of coffee permeated the air.

Eyes still closed, Beth murmured, “Sit still. You'll start coughing again.”

“Bear,” she whispered.

“Don't worry about him. It'll take him hours to scare up some food.”

“Beth…bear.”

“Idiot,” Beth corrected. “The
idiot
will be gone for a while. With all the noise he's making, it will take him until morning to gather enough food to feed four of us.”

“No.
Bear
!”

Beth's eyes flew open when Joanie sprang to her feet. Walt spotted the black bear at the same time Beth saw it. Grounds spilled from the can as he started to slowly back away from the fire. His shotgun sat ten feet out of reach.

The bear lumbered into camp and paused, its beady eyes focused on the prey.

Joanie clutched Beth's arm. “What do we do?”

“Don't bat an eyelash.”

Walt froze into place, his eyes fixed on the animal. Beth could see that though she wasn't full grown, she could still do serious harm.

For long moments, the animal and humans assessed each other.

Then the bear lunged for Walt, and Beth grabbed Joanie's hand. “Run!”

Uncle Walt took off and the women ran in the opposite direction. Bushes thrashed and twigs snapped. Glancing over her shoulder, Beth saw that the bear was single-minded after Walt. The animal loped after him even as Beth and Joanie scrambled into the thicket.

Running until her sides hurt, Beth refused to let up. By now she was pulling Joanie's limp frame along beside her. “What happens…if we run into…bear?” her sister called, gasping for breath.

“Which one!”

“The animal!”

“Run faster.” Beth didn't have a plan. She hadn't been expecting this…miracle? Well, if it was a miracle, she wasn't going to waste it. “Are you praying?”

Joanie's answer came through a wracking cough. “I…always am!”

It figured. Praying while running your lungs out. That was a different twist on prayer. Beth's eyes darted in and out of the tangled bush. She hoped they wouldn't run into Bear. Her cousin was somewhere foraging for supper. If she saw him, she'd run right past and not give him the chance to catch her.

Moonlight spilled across a road when Beth finally slowed the pace and then stopped. They couldn't run another step. Dropping to her knees, she spied cedar trees surrounded by a thicket of bushes. Cedar aggravated Joanie's condition, but their choices were hiding in there or face running into Bear. The man.

“I know this isn't the ideal hiding place. The cedar will only worsen your lungs, but—”

“I can handle it. I have to. I haven't breathed well in so long that I think I'm getting used to it.” Joanie collapsed in a heap after Beth shoved her through the bushes, safely out of sight. Beth crawled in behind her.

“We'll only stay long enough to catch our breath,” Beth promised.

Joanie's feeble voice came back in a whisper. “I think God has shone on us again.”

“Really?” It was hard to imagine their present circumstance as a gift, but she guessed it wouldn't hurt anything to let Joanie think of it that way.

“He's given us yet another place to hide.” Yawning, Joanie closed her eyes.

“But listen to your breathing,” Beth said as fear rose up in her again. “Maybe we shouldn't be doing this. We could give up. We could return to camp and let Walt and Bear take us back to the plantation.”

Settling back to rest, Joanie slipped her arms from the knapsack and used it for a pillow. “That's crazy talk, Beth. God's taking care of us. Besides, we can't go back. If we do, we're doomed for life.”

“It seems we're doomed every way we turn.”

Beth wondered if maybe they should give up right now and stop fighting the inevitable. Or was Joanie right? Had God intervened on their behalf just now? And before, when the men found them at the edge of the field, inches from death? She scoffed at the idea. If God had been working on their behalf, He sure hadn't done a good job of making certain His protection stuck!

Closing her eyes, she dropped into a fitful sleep next to her sister.

D
aybreak shone through the cedar branches when Beth and Joanie climbed out of the bushes. Dusting off the seats of their pants, the two sisters set off at a slow but steady pace and didn't stop until they came to a long line of once-groomed hedges. Parting the greenery, Beth's eyes scanned the sight before her. A dilapidated yet stately three-story brick dwelling on the other side appeared to be occupied. A certain beauty shown through its neglected exterior. Honeysuckle twined around wide white pillars that led to a belfry, where a bell tolled. Listening to the lovely sound, Beth counted the number of peals. Six. Overhead, chirruping birds flittered in and out of overhead roosts. Her gaze found the small plaque near the door: Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton Abbey.

“What is it?” Beth asked. She had never stepped foot off the plantation, so every new sight was met with wonder and trepidation.

Peering over her shoulder, Joanie whispered, “It's a convent.”

“A what?”

“A convent. I've seen pictures of them.”

“Who lives here?”

“Sisters.”

Beth turned slightly to face her. “How many sisters, and what family do they come from?”

“Not like us,” Joanie said, laughing softly. “They're nuns. Religious folk.”

Religion. Beth didn't know anything about religion. She'd heard the field hands praying to God and singing, but she'd never understood why they took the time to talk to somebody they couldn't see. Some put a lot of store in God, but if there was such a being, Beth hadn't met Him. She thought their appeals sounded pretty silly, and when Walt caught Joanie praying she had felt the sting of a whip across her back.

“Do you think they will help us?” She knew Walt and Bear wouldn't be far behind. If they didn't find shelter quickly, the men would likely overtake them again.

“Perhaps.” Biting her lower lip, Joanie kept close watch over her shoulder. “Maybe if we hide long enough, the soldiers will catch up with us.”

“Don't be silly.” Beth's eyes searched the tall, elegant mansion. The structure towered over the run-down outbuildings. “The solders aren't coming to our rescue, Joanie. They are probably glad to be free of us.”

“But they said they would take us—”

Beth turned to her sister. “They're not coming to save us a second time. We're strangers—women strangers in need—and those men are on their way home. Why would they waste more time rescuing us from a hateful uncle and cousin yet again?”

“I thought…they seemed so caring…”

“Caring.” Beth turned again to peer through the hedge, where the faint scent of frying meat caught her awareness. Her stomach rumbled. How long had it been since she or Joanie had anything to eat? It was yesterday's afternoon meal, and her strength was drained.

Casting another wary glance over her shoulder, Joanie whispered, “We have to do something.”

Hoofbeats sounded in the distance. Beth wasn't fool enough to think Walt and Bear wouldn't search the area thoroughly. Grabbing Joanie's hand, she moved forward. Crossing the yard, she led the way to the back of the house, searching for an entrance. Perhaps some kind soul would take pity on them and offer a hot meal. “Let's go.”

Crouching, they moved quickly across the expanse and tapped lightly at a large wooden door.

“What do we say?” Joanie's eyes rounded. “They'll want to know who we are and why we're out so early in the morning.” The sun was just peeking through the trees, spreading rays of light across the dew-soaked grass.

“Let me do the talking. Make yourself presentable.” They licked their fingers to smooth their hair, and then they straightened their masculine attire. At least yesterday's bath made them somewhat presentable.

The heavy door swung open, and Beth met a pair of friendly eyes. Golden, like an old tomcat they once had, but with the most pleasant warmth in their depths. The rotund figure dressed in black offered them a quick smile. “Yes?” A large gold cross hung around her neck. Beth focused on the object, speechless. She'd never seen such a sight.

Joanie found her voice first. “We're terribly sorry to call so early, but we are very hungry and thirsty—”

The door swung open wider. “Welcome!”

Still without her tongue, Beth followed Joanie into a massive kitchen that smelled of frying bacon and warm bread.

Closing the door, the woman locked it and then turned, smiling. “Please have a seat at our table.”

Beth realized then that they weren't alone. She lifted her eyes to see a large oblong table with a dozen or more elderly ladies in black staring at them. Her heart thumped. The woman who had opened the door appeared to be the youngest of the bunch. The others looked to be very old.

Joanie reached for her hand and led her around the massive table to a spot with two empty seats. Smiling, she made the introductions. “I'm Joanie, and this is my sister, Beth.”

“Joanie. Beth.” Words of recognition were softly murmured.

An austere-looking woman seated at the head of the table noted, “We are pleased God has sent you to join us. We were just about to give thanks.”

Nodding, Beth still couldn't speak. Her surroundings were almost as frightening as the knowledge that somewhere nearby Bear and Walt searched for them. She pictured their spiteful eyes scanning the nearby woods as though they were hunting prey.

The women bowed their heads. Joanie, and then Beth, followed.

“Bless, O Lord, this food. For Thy name's sake, grant that all who partake of it may obtain health of body and safety of soul through Christ our Lord. Amen.”

Safety of soul?
Beth would have to ponder that one. After-making the sign of the cross, the women unfolded their napkins.