The One Who Waits for Me (9 page)

The leader, whom the rest called “Reverend Mother,” reached for a large bowl of scrambled eggs and passed it to the guests first. “Please. Eat.”

Exhausted and hungry, Beth accepted the warm bowl. The women were very kind and gentle with their guests. One poured hot tea while another passed a plate of thick ham slices. When Beth realized she was eating like a ravenous animal, she purposely slowed her fork.

Shortly after the dishes were cleared, a bell tolled. Rising, the women shuffled off—all but the friendly one who had opened the door.

“I'm Sister Mary Margaret.” Pausing in the doorway, she explained over the tolling bell, “It is prayer time.”

Nodding, Beth stood beside Joanie, uncertain as to what they should do. No questions had been asked about their unexpected appearance, and neither Beth nor Joanie had offered any explanations. Now what? Bear and Walt were surely close by. It wasn't safe to go outside just yet.

The nun smiled. “If you like, you may wait in the library.” A giggle escaped her. “It's very quiet and comfy there.”

Silently, Beth took her sister's hand and followed the nun to a shelf-lined room. Well-worn sofas, a multitude of reading material, and comfortable overstuffed chairs welcomed the weary travelers. Morning sunlight poured through a bank of eastward-facing windows. A birdcage contained two lively parakeets that were splashing in their water dish during their morning ritual. The room looked safe; a peaceful haven.

“When we finish, I'll bring you a fresh pot of tea.” The sister stifled another giggle and left in a soft rustling of black.

Hesitantly stepping to the birdcage, Beth studied the little feathered creatures. “Isn't this the strangest thing you've ever seen?”

“Birds in a cage.” Joanie nodded, her eyes roaming the friendly room. “I didn't know there were this many books in the whole world.”

Beth's heart broke. She'd begged to learn how to read and write, but Walt had forbidden it. Ma had secretly taught Joanie when she was sick at home, but Beth was always in the cotton fields.

“
You don't need to know nothing but how to pick cotton
,” he'd said. “
Don't need no fancy learning to put fanciful ideas in your head
.”

Fancy learning wasn't her intent. She just wanted to pick up a book and know what the letters said.

Joanie sank to a sofa, coughing.

The long night had been exhausting, and though grateful for the escape and refuge, the strange surroundings added to the feeling of nearly being overwhelmed. Beth eased over and dropped onto the seat beside her. She was bone tired. If she could just close her eyes a few moments, she was sure her powers of reasoning would return. Joanie scooted closer, resting her head on Beth's shoulder. The plan had worked. They were free. All she had to do now was get Joanie medical help—and keep out of Walt's clutches.

“What's next?” Joanie asked.

“We do what we planned. We'll sleep in barns during the night and travel during the day. If we keep to ourselves, we'll not be noticed.”

“But we have very little money. And Trella? What will she do?” Joanie reached down to pull her Bible out of her knapsack. The years had left the book worn and ragged.

“She'll follow the plan. I'm sure the soldiers will keep their word and see her safely to the next town. Once she's there she will have to find work and make a life for herself and her baby. We have to take things one day at a time and stick with the plan, Joanie. We can't be fainthearted now.”

Beth refused to spend the remainder of her life ruled by a spiteful uncle. Though last night Joanie had considered admitting defeat and going back with them, in the light of day with a full stomach Beth felt confident that in the end she was smarter than him. She could escape his tyranny, and that was all that mattered. Eventually he would give up the search, assuming they were helpless females who would be the cause of their own deaths.

He'd be wrong.

Joanie's drowsy voice broke into her thoughts. “I wish we could have stayed with the soldiers. Pierce and Gray Eagle are kind—”

“They are men. There's no such thing as
kind
men. How many times do I have to remind you?”

“I know, but actually, those men are good. If we could have stayed with them, I'm sure we would have been safe.”

“Maybe. Or perhaps they were deceiving us.” Yes. Deceiving them. That was the more likely case. All three soldiers had been courteous, much as Beth hated to acknowledge it, but they could have planned on taking the women on up the road and then turning on them—as men did—doing unspeakable acts. She and Joanie were better off now. They were on their own.

“Joanie, you need to pray.”

A part of Beth knew they needed Joanie's faith right about now. Especially in light of her own doubts that lingered on the edges of her bravado. It couldn't hurt to put in a word for Trella too.

“You always say it's a waste—”

“It's not for me. It's for you and Trella. I can take care of myself.”

Joanie disagreed with that last part but didn't say anything about it. “Do you think Trella is in real danger? Would Uncle Walt spend a lot of time looking for her?”

“I doubt it. What's another slave to him? Eventually he'll be forced to go back to his own doings.”

“You don't really think he'd make you marry Bear.”

Beth shivered at the unthinkable thought. “I don't know what he's capable of doing.” Her uncle's spitefulness had no limits that she could discern. She wouldn't put anything past him. That was another reason why she didn't intend to hang around. Lately Bear had been looking at her extra long, skimming her slim figure and admiring her waist-length golden hair.

Joanie's eyelids were drooping. “I'm so tired.”

“Rest. I'll keep watch.”

“I love you, Beth.” Joanie set her Bible on the floor. “I'll close my eyes for just a moment. Then I'll keep watch and let you sleep.”

Beth cradled her sister in the quaint room with the strange birds in the wire cage. The little creatures hopped back and forth, one landing on a swing. Feathers fluffed as the bird drank in the morning sunlight.

This was the strangest place she'd ever been—but then, she hadn't been anywhere. She knew a big world existed outside the plantation's perimeter, but what that meant she didn't know. Yet she was willing to face the unknown. If it snatched her life, so be it. It would be a life given in search of freedom, and that couldn't be so bad.

Perhaps the kind sisters would permit them to stay until evening. They could steal away before the moon came up, keep to the woods, and avoid being seen. If they traveled this way for the next few days, they could safely escape Walt and Bear…

The parakeets chirped. Warm sun shone through the windows. Ham and eggs rested easy in her full stomach.

Life was going to be better. Beth felt it in her bones.

Much better. And if God did exist, as Joanie and so many of the pickers declared, and He knew the hearts of all men, then He would help and not constantly hinder them.

W
aking with a start from a sound sleep, Beth's eyes roamed her unfamiliar surroundings. The parakeets still swung on their perch. The sun had climbed a little higher. She shook the fuzz out of her head and realized how much the short nap had refreshed her. Joanie still snoozed on her shoulder, the faint sound of blocked sinuses creating a whistling sound.

Though she wished they could stay until nightfall, now that she was thinking more clearly she realized that she and Joanie would probably put the convent in danger if they stayed.
The sisters must still be in prayer
, she thought
. We can't burden these strange women with our problems
.

Gently nudging her sister awake, she whispered, “Joanie, wake up. We need to leave.”

Joanie stirred. “Are the sisters done?”

“I don't know, but we have to leave before they return.”

Awake now, Joanie stretched. “That wouldn't be polite. We have to stay until they get back. We should explain our situation.”

“No. We can't involve them. Walt may be waiting nearby. He would use the sisters to his advantage.”

“He will take us first. He wouldn't dare bother these good women.”

“We will outwit him.” She eased Joanie from the sofa. “I have a plan.”

Hushed halls echoed their footfalls when they opened the library door and peeked out. Not a mouse stirred. Eyes darting toward the kitchen area, Beth pulled Joanie into the hallway. A polished oak stairway led to the second floor.

“Their bedrooms must be up there.”

Joanie emitted a soft gasp. “Beth! We can't intrude on their private quarters.”

“We won't. Well, not much. We just need to borrow a few things.”

“No. I'm not going to—”

Beth cut short her protests and pulled her toward the stairs. Within moments they had slipped into one of the rooms. The space was massive, with a huge bed centered along one wall. A rocking chair sat in front of a window beside a small table, which held a lamp and an open Bible.

Joanie's eyes roamed the simple furnishings as Beth made quick work of her mission. She quickly searched the oak wardrobe and took out two long black dresses.

Joanie's eyes widened. “Oh, Beth! We can't!”

“We can and we must.” It was the only sensible disguise. Walt would never stop two traveling nuns. Even he wouldn't be so disrespectful.

“It's sacrilegious!”

Beth turned. “It's what?”

“Sacrilegious.”

“What does that mean?” Religious talk, no doubt, but she'd never heard a cotton picker use the fancy term.

“It's offensive to God.”

Fleeting doubts gave Beth pause. She didn't really believe in this God—but neither did she want to anger Him if He did exist. But if He was as loving as Joanie insisted, why would He be offended? After all, they were trying to prevent harm to His people.

“We haven't time to argue.” She pushed a dress and wimple into her sister's hands. “Put this on.”

“Oh, Beth! This is awful!”

“Do you want Walt and Bear to find us?”

“No…”

Beth carefully straightened the closet so it wouldn't be readily apparent that she'd been in there and closed the door. “Then get dressed and be quick about it.”

Without taking their clothes off, the women pulled black material over their heads. Beth's garment was so large it would have fit two of her, but as the black cotton rustled and swayed with every move a close fit didn't matter. She picked up the wimple and quickly secured it.

Turning, she found Joanie dressed, looking as innocent as the driven snow. “You make a nice-looking—”

“Sister,” her sister supplied. “I feel miserable.”

Taking her arm, Beth ushered her toward the door. “We'll only use the disguise a short while, I promise. We'll launder the garments and bring them back if we can. And I'll leave enough money to replace both gowns. That should make them happy.”

“Wait!” Joanie held up her hand.

Beth glanced at the door. “I know you are uncomfortable with this, but we have to go, Joanie. The nuns will be back soon.” She had no idea how long a person could pray, but even as she spoke the bell started to toll again. She could only imagine the sound must mean they were close to whatever came next on their schedule.

Joanie silently handed Beth the money from the knapsack. She peeled off some bills and laid them on the table by the window. Then she turned back to her sister.

“We need to go
now
,” Beth said again firmly. Opening the heavy door a crack, she nodded. The two slipped out in the hallway as two nuns approached.

“Keep your head low,” Beth murmured.

“I'm scared.”

“So am I.”

They passed the sisters in the wide vestibule, never meeting their steady gazes.

Walking faster, Beth pulled Joanie along beside her. So far, so good. They were only thirty feet from the front door now. If they could make it to the entryway, they would escape Reverend Mother's eye.