My Heart Stood Still (Sisters Of Mercy Flats 2)

by Lori Copeland

  The third time she roused, her eyes opened slowly, trying to gain her bearings.

  Unfamiliar surroundings met her gaze. Then understanding slowly dawned on her; she was lying in the medicine lodge where Creed had been. The heat, the incredible heat… the place was practically an oven.

  Afraid to move, she looked out of the corner of her eye and saw the aged medicine man sitting beside the fire, smoking a pipe.

  A burst of cold air swept her when the flap parted and Creed entered to kneel beside her, taking her hand.

  Swallowing thickly, she tried to speak, but only a croak escaped her parched throat.

  “You have slept a long time.”

  Frowning, Anne-Marie lifted her hand to her throbbing temple. “What happened?”

  His fingers brushed her cheek, and the motion brought about the nicest feeling inside her. “Are you in pain?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she murmured. Her head throbbed and hot knives sliced her everywhere feeling was left in her body, but she didn’t expect his sympathy. What she had done was beyond foolish. Color heated her cheeks. He must think she was an utter imbecile, and her reckless actions only confirmed it.

  His gaze swept her gently. “God has again smiled upon you. You have some frostbite, but Spirit Cloud says you will live.”

  Anne-Marie wasn’t sure if she heard relief or regret in his tone.

  “How… how did you find me?” Events of the past few hours were slowly coming back: the flight from camp, the worsening snowstorm, losing her direction, the fall from her horse into the ravine.

  “River Woman led me to you.”

  Anne-Marie frowned. “How did she know where I was?”

  Creed hesitated, choosing his words. “River Woman saw you ride out of camp. She and Berry Woman followed to make sure your escape was successful.”

  Sighing, Anne-Marie closed her eyes. “Berry Woman would be happy to see me turn into a stewing hen forever.”

  He chuckled, a nice, rich-sounding timbre. “Berry Woman feels you are a threat.”

  Anne-Marie wanted to look him directly in the eyes, but she didn’t. Why should the suggestion that he found her desirable be anything but laughable? They had only known each other a short while and they battled each other constantly.

  Admittedly she lacked experience where men were concerned, but simple logic told her that few men would be attracted to a woman who had landed him in jail and shot him to boot. “I acted foolishly. Will I lose my toes—or fingers?”

  His calm tone soothed her. “You were foolish in many ways, but the frostbite was not severe; there should be no lasting effect.” Turning aside, Creed dipped a cloth in a bowl of warm water. “Bold Eagle extends his apology for your injuries. It is not their way to dishonor a guest.”

  As he talked he smoothed the cloth back and forth across her brow, his touch surprisingly gentle. Anne-Marie wasn’t certain if the odd tingling he awakened inside her was the result of his compassion or merely a lingering effect of the recent fall. Either way, she found the gesture agreeable. She found him enjoyable.

  “Berry Woman is aware that her actions have shamed her family and her heritage.” He tossed the cloth aside.

  Drawing a ragged breath, Anne-Marie opened her eyes to meet his direct gaze. “She’s deeply devoted to you, you know.” The observation was too personal, she knew that, but she needed to know if he returned her feelings.

  He was silent for a moment, then: “I am aware of Berry Woman’s devotion.”

  His admission was unsettling. Then Berry Woman was telling the truth. He planned to marry the young woman once the war was over. The thought stung more than the feeling starting to creep back into her hands. “She says you and she will marry someday.”

  He stood up slowly, towering over the pallet. A mighty sight for any foe.

  “Are you in love with her?”

  “It is good to know that your tongue is not harmed. But you ask many questions.” Moving to the edge of the pallet, he settled his leg more comfortably and changed the subject. “Why did you decide to leave? Were you not treated well?”

  In view of what had happened, Anne-Marie realized her reasons for leaving were inadequate if not downright scatterbrained. She hadn’t the slightest idea where she would have gone had her illfated attempt to escape proved successful. She had no money, few provisions, and her pleas for assistance had fallen on deaf ears in High Bluff.

  “I admit running away wasn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done, but you don’t understand how worried I am about my sisters. For all I know they’re dead—and for all they know, I didn’t make it either.” She turned curious eyes on him. “I would think you would be relieved to see me gone. I am capable of returning to Mercy Flats on my own.” Though I don’t want to, she added silently. She wanted him beside her, but she had no right to ask his protection—especially if another woman waited for his return.

  A dangerous light entered his eyes. “Alone? Are you not convinced of the perils that await a woman traveling alone?”

  Her chin lifted. “I know the risks. My sisters and I have traveled alone and no harm has befallen us… until now.”

  His dark gaze traveled over her slowly, with an assessing interest that Sister Agnes would have thought highly improper.

  “You could be hurt by vile men. It would be wise for you and your sisters to reconsider your ways before harm snatches you away.”

  Every word he spoke was truth, yet she couldn’t let him think that she was completely helpless without his protection. She had already decided to change the folly of her ways. “I am a resourceful woman, Mr. Walker. You would be surprised how much I know.”

  Their eyes held for a long moment.

  “No, I don’t believe I would be, Miss McDougal.”

  Anne-Marie looked away first. “If you are engaged to another woman, you should not be looking at me this way,” she chided, although his look threatened to rob her very breath away.

  He conceded the point with a nod. “You will forgive my temporary insanity.” He leaned back, his dark eyes dancing with amusement. He was more male than she cared to notice.

  The teasing light disappeared and his features sobered. “I have come to strike a bargain with you.”

  She glanced up. “What sort of bargain?”

  “I have come to ask your help.”

  Her eyes narrowed with skepticism. “What kind of help?”

  “I want you to help Quincy and me get the gold out of camp.”

  “Why should I do that?” She was already more involved with John Quincy Adams and Creed Walker than she should be. If it weren’t for that gold, she would already be on her way back to Mercy Flats.

  “If you will agree to help, I will see that a third of the money is yours. You can donate the windfall to your mission, maybe make up for some of your… downfalls.”

  “A third,” she breathed, trying to envision the fortune. Even without prolonged calculation, she knew it would be a lot. A whole lot. “What would I have to do?”

  “Come up with a way to remove the gold from camp, undetected.” He leaned back, watching her. “You’re good at moving without detection.”

  She wasn’t sure if he had given her a compliment or insult, but the idea intrigued her. A third of the shipment. The sisters would be overjoyed with such a gift, and the McDougal girls would never have to swindle another man. Her forehead creased in concern. “Just the gold, or you, me, Quincy, and the gold?”

  “All four.”

  Dear me—he must be desperate! “This must be pretty important to you and Quincy.”

  The muscle in his jaw tightened. “Very important.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Now why do you want to leave your friends’ camp—and Berry Woman—undetected? You’re a spy, aren’t you?”

  He gazed stoically back at her. “No.”

  She recalled Quincy’s earlier explanation. “Paid agents?”

  He sat up, his eyes pinpointing her. “Quincy has told you this?”
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  “You are a spy. A government spy. I thought something was funny about that gold. But you surprise me. I wouldn’t have thought an Indian would take sides.”

  “I don’t.” His features remained somber. “The Crow is for his side.”

  “But you ride with the Union.”

  “I ride for the side that is right.”

  “But now you and Quincy need my help.”

  He shrugged. “If you’re willing—a third of the gold and my word to return you to Mercy Flats unharmed.”

  “You can’t promise that—only the Lord can do that.”

  He bent his head. “I stand corrected. Will you help?”

  Well, well, well. So now the two spies were so desperate they were willing to come to her for help.

  “Why me? Why not ask Bold Eagle for his wisdom?”

  “I’ve thought about it.” His eyes avoided contact with hers now. “You have the greater skills in trickery.”

  She was getting a little tired of these backhanded reassurances, though the thought of her deceits made her edgy. They sat for a moment in silence.

  “Will you do it?”

  “I’m still thinking.” Closing her eyes, she mulled the situation over in her mind. If she thought hard enough, she could come up with a way to get them and the gold out of camp without arousing suspicion. It wouldn’t be easy. Every eye would be watching her to report another break for freedom.

  She sighed, wishing for the hundredth time that she had never gotten involved with her dealings. Look where her talents had landed her: half-frozen in a medicine lodge. And because Creed knew about her criminal past, he viewed her as a convenient tool. He’d never look at her with the respect and admiration he reserved for Berry Woman.

  Finally he spoke. “Quincy has told you of our mission?”

  “Yes—you’re an Indian Northerner.”

  “It wasn’t long ago you said I didn’t look like an Indian, Anne-Marie. The me you see is not necessarily Creed Walker. Perhaps when this is over we’ll both have a better understanding of each other, but for now you will have to trust me and do what I ask.”

  “I never meant you didn’t look like an Indian—I only meant you don’t act like an Indian.” Her eyes focused on the skins lining the walls of the lodge. “At least, not all the time.”

  Their eyes met, and she could see he was assessing her again.

  “So, you and Quincy are involved in the war,” she murmured. “Where does that leave me?”

  Shrugging, he smiled. “It leaves you just as desperate as Quincy and me. The way I see it, we’re both in a bad situation.”

  “I agree. Why should I trust you when my life is in danger?”

  “You’ll just have to take my word that I’ll get you home, I suppose.” He fell quiet as he studied her. She squirmed under the close scrutiny. He was trying to decide if he could trust her, and he could. If he saw the determination in her eye or the mulish set to her chin when she made a promise, he’d know that he could.

  “All right. I’m going to trust you. Quincy and I were on our way to pick up the shipment of gold when I rescued you from the jail wagon.”

  “I never saw Quincy during that time,” she countered.

  “He rode ahead of me. We were to meet within the hour when I encountered you being chased by Comanches. That is why I had such meager provisions the night I rescued you.”

  “Quincy had your supplies?” That would explain why he had been traveling so light. No food, only one blanket.

  Creed nodded. “He carried the supplies that particular day. We don’t usually ride separately, but we were in a hurry to break camp that morning.”

  “You were on your way to pick up the gold?” The irony of it made her laugh. “That explains why it was loaded and waiting on the buckboard.”

  “No, I don’t know why it was loaded and waiting on the buckboard. The city councilman knew we were on our way to get it, but he didn’t know when we would arrive.”

  “Whose gold is it?”

  “The funds were donated by a group of wealthy California investors for the Northern cause. The money will enable the North to continue fighting. Quincy and I were sent to pick up the gold and bring it to our commander.”

  Anne-Marie understood men’s belief in a single cause, but a trunk full of gold was a whole lot of belief for any cause.

  “Why would California investors donate such a large sum specifically to the Union Army?”

  He smiled. “Your naïveté is refreshing. Let’s just say the ‘investors’ like their present affluent lives, and they don’t care to lose them.”

  “Then the gold wasn’t donated because the investors have a true sense of right and wrong; they gave it because they’re looking after their own selfish interests. It’s a matter of greedy men wanting to dominate other men and having enough money to do so.”

  “It’s surprising how astute you are when you want to be, and yes, that unfortunately is the case.”

  Her jaw firmed with resentment. “It’s not fair. The North should refuse to accept the money.”

  He shrugged. “In war, the end justifies the means.”

  “Then you think someone else knew about the gold and was in the process of stealing it when we broke out of jail?”

  “It’s a reasonable assumption, but I have no proof one way or the other.”

  “Who could it possibly be? Agents working for the South?”

  “Maybe.”

  “A crooked banker?”

  “Maybe. Or councilman.”

  “A crooked sheriff?” She snapped her fingers. “A crooked sheriff and banker? That’s it! High Bluff’s sheriff and banker are nothing but low-down, cutthroat snakes.”

  “You are jumping to big conclusions—but you could be right. At this point it doesn’t matter. We have the gold.”

  “And that’s exactly how it’s going to stay. Whoever tried to steal the gold won’t get a second chance.” She crossed her arms and winced. Her shoulder muscles still felt like mush. “I refuse to let that gold fall into unsavory hands.”

  “Then you agree to help?”

  Her eyes lifted expectantly. “Certainly, for a third of the gold and your promise that once the gold is safely in your commander’s hands, we will ride immediately to Mercy Flats.”

  He stiffened. “I cannot give you my word that I will immediately take you there. I have my duty.”

  “That’s my condition. Take it or leave it.”

  His brows lifted. “Condition, Miss McDougal?”

  She smiled. “Circumstances, Mr. Walker.”

  A disgusted sound passed his lips. “You are a hard case, lady. The whole Northern cause needs your help and you start bargaining with me.”

  She smiled. “Good. I’m glad you accept. When do we start?”

  He sighed, but she thought she saw a hint of a grin on his lips. “Bold Eagle says those outlaws are waiting on the outskirts of camp; undoubtedly they have their eye on the gold. They’re minor nuisances, but they’ll be in our hair until we shake them. They must have followed the posse out of town. They know we’re in here.”

  “So I have to figure out a way around them too.” The job was getting harder. Maybe she should up her price.

  “For you, that shouldn’t be difficult. Quincy tells me the so-called gang is led by a bandit named Cortes.”

  “You know him?”

  “We’ve had dealings in the past.”

  Anne-Marie frowned. She’d learned from planning her confidence games that the first step was gathering information. “Is he smart? Will he be hard for me to outwit?”

  “A man doesn’t have to be brilliant to cause trouble.”

  “Why don’t I just go out there and demand to know who they are and what they want? If they’re after the gold, I’ll just tell them they can’t have it.”

  Creed’s jaw dropped. “I don’t think so. You have a pretty neck, much too pretty to have it wrung off like a Sunday dinner chicken.”

  He go
t slowly to his feet when he saw her energy was draining. “We will speak of this again later. Now you must rest.”

  “Yes—but come back tonight. Meanwhile I’ll give the situation some thought.”

  When the flap closed behind him Anne-Marie was curious about what had prompted his grudging smile and the gentle way he’d tucked a corner of the blanket closer around her neck. By all rights he should have been angry enough to personally wring her neck for that Sunday dinner.

  Ten

  Ben!” the sheriff bellowed. “Get in here!”

  Deputy Ben Parnell tossed the pail of water out the back of the jailhouse and stepped back into the office.

  “What do you want?” he shouted.

  “Run this down to the telegraph office.” Ferris Goodman handed the deputy a piece of paper with a scribbled note on it. “Have Ladeen send it off to every lawman in a hundred-mile area.”

  The deputy glanced at the brief message.

  IF A NUN ACCOMPANIED BY A BLACK AND A CROW INDIAN IS SPOTTED IN YOUR AREA, APPREHEND IMMEDIATELY. WOMAN HAS GREEN EYES, SMALL STATURE. WANTED IN HOWARD COUNTY FOR CATTLE THEFT AND JAILBREAK.

  “You think this is really gonna help, Ferris? Cortes and his men have been chasing the three of them for days, and the gold is still in their hands.”

  “No, I’m sending it ’cause I don’t have another blessed thing to do, Ben!” Ferris mocked.

  “All right, all right, you don’t have to be so cranky. Seems to me a black man, a nun, and an Indian traveling together shouldn’t be that hard to spot. If you ask me, which nobody ever does, that’d be a sight hard to overlook.”

  “Well, now, if you’d stop working your jaws and think about it, Ben, don’t you just suppose those three might have enough brains to split up so’s they wouldn’t be so noticeable?”

  Ben frowned. “Well, I allow that’s possible—I guess.”

  Snorting, Ferris stalked back to his desk. “That’s mighty big of you, Ben. Mighty big.”

  Ben’s chin jutted. “So, I ain’t perfect.”

  “You gonna go send those telegrams, or do you plan to take root where you’re standin’?”