My Heart Stood Still (Sisters Of Mercy Flats 2)

by Lori Copeland

  “I’m goin’, I’m goin’,” Ben mumbled, starting out the door. “But for the life of me I cain’t see what good it’ll do. Ain’t no one seen hide nor hair of those three and I don’t likely think they’re gonna.”

  Creed stepped from the medicine lodge the next morning and walked straight to Quincy’s tent.

  Thoughts of Anne-Marie continued to haunt him. He found himself looking forward to their daily matches of wit. The woman was not only beautiful, she was intelligent. It was not the keenness of a con artist that attracted him, although he found that aspect of her intriguing, but rather it was her appeal as an independent and rational woman that fascinated him. He knew many women, but none could match this one.

  Quincy glanced up from cleaning his rifle when Creed entered his tepee and grinned. “Brother Walker. How’s the good sister this morning?”

  Seating himself opposite his friend, Creed lifted his hands to the fire. “She is anxious to move on.”

  “Is she now?” Quincy mused. “And what about you?”

  Creed’s frown deepened as his gaze centered on the bandage wrapped tightly around his thigh. To all who asked he vowed he was recovering, but his force was slow to return. “The wound doesn’t want to heal.”

  “I wouldn’t be too concerned.” Quincy spat on the rifle stock and rubbed harder. “Spirit Cloud says these things take time.”

  “I do not have time.” Creed’s tone was short now. “We have been delayed too long as it is.”

  “I could ride ahead, deliver the woman for you,” Quincy offered. “By the time I return you will have your strength back.”

  “No, it’s too dangerous to travel alone with such a large amount of gold.”

  Spitting again on the rifle butt, Quincy polished it to a deep shine with his sleeve.

  “And there is the matter of the men waiting outside the camp,” Creed noted.

  “Hmmm.” Quincy glanced up. “Haven’t figured out a way to escape the illustrious outlaws yet? Don’t figure that noodle-brain Cortes will give us much trouble, but the warriors say the gang is dug in outside the camp.”

  “Cortes is a headache, not a threat,” Creed admitted.

  “What does Bold Eagle suggest we do?”

  “I don’t want to involve Bold Eagle any deeper in this matter. The tribe is small, and the people have already endangered their welfare by taking us in.”

  “You don’t think Bold Eagle would insist on helping? You two are blood brothers, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, but I’m reluctant to accept my brother’s help.” There would be no question of Bold Eagle’s loyalty if Creed chose to ask.

  “One moonless night, and Cortes and his men could disappear, never to be heard from again,” Quincy mused. “Two strong braves with freshly honed blades could take care of that problem.”

  “Killing is never the answer. I will find other ways to evade my enemies.”

  “Hmmm, Anne-Marie’s safety wouldn’t have anything to do with this, would it? I thought you would be more concerned about our mission than about her.” Lifting the barrel of the gun, Quincy peered through it.

  Creed pitched a twig on the fire. “I am concerned for all who are involved.”

  “We could always leave the woman in Bold Eagle’s care and then come back for her later. That way all we’ll have to worry about is the gold.”

  “No,” Creed objected shortly. “The woman would not accept it, and I have given my word that once the gold is delivered, I will personally see her to Mercy Flats. It will be far wiser to enlist her help in this matter. She can be, at this point, a help. She is working on a plan and thinking of a way for us to elude the enemy as we speak. I figured if anyone can get us past that gate without detection, she can.”

  Glancing up, Quincy frowned. “Are you serious?”

  “She is wise in the ways of deception,” Creed maintained. “She has given her promise to help.”

  “But we’ve never had to ask a woman’s help before—”

  Creed’s eyes fixed on the fire and he interrupted. “We have not been in so grave a situation before.” Silence fell between the two men.

  Then Quincy noted, “I have never known Creed Walker to rely on anyone, much less a woman. Are you convinced there isn’t another reason you’re willing to jeopardize the mission by bringing her along—asking for her help?”

  Creed fixed his eyes on the fire. “If you are implying that anything personal exists between the woman and me, you are wrong. I’m thinking of what is best for all, nothing more.”

  Quincy released a low whistle. “Brother Walker, just how far will you go to help this woman?”

  There is nothing between the woman and me, Creed mentally repeated later when he limped across the open communal area to Bold Eagle’s lodge.

  Bold Eagle opened his eyes when Creed sat across the fire from him.

  “Your wound is better, my brother.”

  Creed nodded. “Soon I will be able to leave to complete my mission.”

  “This is good. And the woman?”

  “She is eager to leave also, my brother.”

  “This is also good.”

  They sat for a while in companionable silence. Their shared friendship was peaceful. As a courtesy, Creed waited for Bold Eagle to break the quiet.

  “What does my brother wish my warriors to do concerning Storm Rider’s enemies waiting in the trees outside our camp?”

  “I haven’t decided the men’s fate,” Creed admitted. “If Cortes’s gang is killed, more will come to take their place, and I fear for the safety of your tribe.”

  “Do not worry,” Bold Eagle scoffed. “The Apache are strong. Tell me what must be done and it will be, for I owe you my life as well as the lives of my people.”

  How could he explain the power of the white man? Creed had listened to Bold Eagle recount the many raids his band had made against the white settlers. How did he tell this noble man that his days were numbered? That when this war ended there would be more and more whites encroaching on the vast Texas plains? That if the outlaws were eliminated, more would take their place? Someday Bold Eagle’s band would vanish like the large herds of buffalo that once dominated the plains.

  “I don’t want anyone uselessly killed,” Creed repeated.

  “Then we must trick them,” Bold Eagle decided.

  “That’s what I’m thinking.”

  Bold Eagle nodded. “I will help think of a plan, my brother.”

  “That’s good—you are wise in your ways. And the woman will help.”

  “The woman?” Bold Eagle bit down on the stem of his pipe, hard. “Has my hearing left me?”

  “No, your hearing is fine. The woman is cunning—like the fox. She can be a big help.”

  “She is bother, like the wolf,” Bold Eagle said when Creed rose to leave. “Better my hearing left.”

  Late that evening Creed returned to Anne-Marie’s tepee. She had been moved from the medicine tent and into her tepee where a vat of hot water awaited her. She had finished bathing when Creed’s tap sounded at the flap.

  She was sitting close to the fire braiding her auburn tresses. The flames from the fire caused her hair to come alive with a fire of its own. Her borrowed doeskin dress clung damply to her soft curves in a way the black nun’s robe never had, and Creed felt a disturbing tightening in his stomach. He had seen her in various conditions, but tonight she looked like a wife waiting for her husband.

  For a moment their eyes met in mutual awareness until a fire log broke in two, shattering the stillness.

  Seating himself beside her, he crossed his legs, focusing on the flames. “You look very pretty tonight. That worn blouse from Eulalie—it does not reflect your eyes, the color of sweet-smelling grass that blooms in the spring.”

  Glancing away, she remained silent and then said softly, “Creed… ”

  He placed a finger on her lips to silence her. “Soon this will be over.” His fingers lightly traced the outline of her face. “You’re
feeling better tonight? Our God shined on you—you could have been… ”

  “I know. And I know how irrationally I acted. I’m sorry.”

  “Irrational you’re not, but leaving was a mistake. Promise me you won’t try anything like that again.”

  “You have my word.” Lowering her eyes to the flames, she admitted, “You’ve saved my life three times now. I will forever be in your debt.”

  “It was my duty.” His tongue twisted in the lie, because he knew that he had gone after her the third time for a reason beyond that of simple obligation.

  “Well, thank you again,” she said quietly.

  “Have you come up with a plan yet?”

  “I’m working on it. We could always have Bold Eagle’s warriors simply tie those outlaws up until we can get away.”

  Creed silently laughed at the idea of Bold Eagle’s warriors tying men up, but his features remained somber as he answered her, again surprised at her gentleness even toward those who would harm her. “Too risky. They would only break loose and follow.” His hand was drawn to a lock of her hair and her eyes closed when he gently wound the silk around his finger. “Cortes would send others to retaliate for their humiliation. We need a more clever way to leave without bringing harm to either ourselves or my brothers.”

  “Have you spoken to Bold Eagle?”

  “Bold Eagle will do as I ask.”

  She nodded. “I have no real plan,” she confessed. “Not without upsetting everyone. What I’m thinking would mean that your friends would have to break camp and move.” Their eyes met, and unbidden, the thought came to his mind that he would love nothing more than to take her into his arms and kiss her. Firelight played over her flushed features, drawing him like a flame. “It would be easier for the three of us to escape if we didn’t have the gold to worry about.”

  His expression sobered. “The gold goes with us, or we do not leave.”

  “But if we—”

  He released the curl, scooting to the side. “We don’t leave without the gold.”

  “All right. But you’re not going to like what I’ll come up with.”

  He didn’t doubt her word, but at the moment he was desperate. Asking a woman to do a man’s work stung, but he admitted she was far more experienced in the art of escape. And common sense told him to let her take the lead. “Just don’t get us killed—or lose the gold.”

  “All right—but you’re not going to like it.”

  “So you have said. I’ll cope, all right?”

  “All right. I’ll try to keep the risk to our necks to a minimum.”

  Rising slowly to his feet, he extended his hand to her in a gesture of friendship.

  Placing her hand into his, she smiled. “I’ll have something in a couple of hours.”

  He nodded. “Send for me when you do.” He dropped her hand, more aware than at any time before of the young woman’s powerful effect on him. A dangerous effect he could not afford.

  Thin shafts of light streaked the morning sky. Creed and Quincy sat atop a rise, watching God’s morning portrait unfold. Creed drank in deep drafts of cold air. Anne-Marie was a constant thought with him now, an arrow in his heart. She was a mystery far beyond his comprehension. It was not fair that he put her in this situation, and yet—she was willing. Was it possible that in her youth and innocence she risked her neck in order to actually feed and clothe the mission sisters? A man would be hard-pressed to find fault with her motives, though stealing was never right.

  Creed rode a paint pony, his eyes assessing the outlaws’ camp. A heavy wind kicked up wisps of smoke from a struggling campfire. “They must be freezing their socks off down there.”

  Quincy shifted on the stallion he was riding. “I still say we leave Anne-Marie here and come back for her later. There’s no sense in involving her in something that might get her killed. Once we deliver the gold, we come back for her. Bold Eagle will protect her with honor. It’s the only smart way to handle this. We can outsmart that gang.”

  “And if we can’t?”

  “If we can’t, then we’re goners.”

  Creed’s answer was the same. They were in trouble and he’d use any means to escape with the gold intact. “No, and I’m tired of discussing it. She goes with us or we don’t leave.”

  “Well, we’d better come up with something, and pronto.” Resignation was evident in his friend’s voice. “Bold Eagle can’t be happy about those outlaws camped on his doorstep.”

  The men spotted Anne-Marie approaching the rise. She rode up, wind whipping her cheeks to a rosy fuchsia. “I’ve got it!” she declared in a breathless voice.

  Creed frowned. “It’s about time. I sat up half the night waiting for you. You said you’d have it in a couple of hours.”

  “Sorry, it took longer than expected. Details, you know. But I’ve got the plan.” She addressed Quincy, but her eyes found Creed’s.

  Quincy frowned.

  “Relax. She’s the best in her field,” Creed said. “What have you come up with?”

  “Well, it’s lengthy.” The three dismounted and walked their horses along the ridge. As they walked, she talked. “What I’m about to say may sound farfetched, but from my vast experiences, I’m convinced it’s the only way out of our situation. We’ll need Bold Eagle’s help—maybe he should be here for this conversation?”

  “Let’s not involve Bold Eagle until we hear the plan.”

  “All right.” She glanced at Quincy. “I know you’re leery, but hear me out. Once we’re out, there’s that abandoned mission not far from here.” Her eyes searched Quincy’s. “You know where it is. We were discussing it moments before Bold Eagle’s warriors found us.”

  Quincy agreed that he knew of the mission. “I’ve seen it many times.”

  “We’ll be safe there until Creed heals. When he does, we’ll move on and deliver the gold and Creed can take me to join my sisters.”

  Creed nodded for her to go on. “The mission is a good place to hide. But how do we get out of this camp without Cortes and his men following?”

  Anne-Marie quickly began to outline her strategy. As she talked on in a rush she could see disbelief creep into Creed’s expression and outright horror in Quincy’s.

  “You must be kidding,” Quincy said when the plan was laid out.

  Creed stared at Anne-Marie as if she had lost her mind. “I thought you were taking this seriously.”

  “I told you that you wouldn’t like it, but it will work.”

  His eyes darkened. “Impossible. Do you know what it takes to move a whole camp with snow still on the ground? Bold Eagle would never go for it.”

  “The plan will work. It’s positively brilliant; some of my best work,” she argued.

  “You’re both crazy,” Quincy declared, “and I refuse to have anything to do with this.”

  “Do you want to get out of here or stay until summer?” Creed inquired.

  “But her plan is nuts!”

  “We’ll do as she says.”

  Quincy’s mahogany features paled to almond. “Good Lord, please have mercy on our ignorant souls.”

  “You know of a better way?” she asked.

  “No, but this one is insane. With our luck the last thing we need is to stir up a bunch of evil spirits. I don’t like it, Creed. I think we’d be setting ourselves up for more trouble than we ever thought about.”

  “No one said you had to like it,” Anne-Marie consoled, patting Quincy’s arm. “It is a little uncommon… ”

  “A little?”

  “… but it’ll be over before you know it.”

  “I can’t believe this woman.” Quincy shook his head like a bear with porcupine quills in his muzzle. “Creed, she’s gonna get us all killed.”

  “Nonsense. Now come along, gentlemen.” Anne-Marie swept her hand toward the camp. “We have business to attend to.”

  Eleven

  Bold Eagle glanced up when three sets of eyes appeared in the tepee opening. “Bold Eagle welcom
es his friends to his lodge.” He motioned for the visitors to sit on the buffalo robes encircling the fire.

  Creed lowered himself to the ground. “We have decided on a plan.”

  “And the three of you agree to this plan?” Bold Eagle questioned. His eyes focused on the woman.

  Smiling, Anne-Marie nodded.

  Bold Eagle directed his gaze to Quincy.

  Quincy nodded his head.

  “Tell me of this plan.”

  “It is one that will take a great deal of courage, my brother, for it goes against our teachings, and it would take much courage to move the camp before the grass is new.”

  Bold Eagle’s features turned stoic. “If Bold Eagle goes against the Wise One Above, he would be doomed forever to walk the Hanging Road.”

  Anne-Marie crept closer, bending low to speak. “It’s nothing like that.”

  “Continue. Bold Eagle is listening.”

  Creed took over, unfolding Anne-Marie’s strategy. Bold Eagle’s brows shot up, finally disappearing into his hairline.

  “I am to understand you want my people to prepare your bodies for burial, transport them out of camp on a travois, and place them on sacred platforms?”

  Creed’s gaze met his brother’s unflinchingly. “This is what I ask.”

  “Before you are dead?”

  Creed nodded soberly.

  “It is said that the ghosts of the people waiting to be escorted to the Hanging Road walk between the scaffolds. You ask too much, Storm Rider.”

  “I am aware of the Apache beliefs,” Creed continued, “but there is no other way to escape without causing much pain to my brothers. Those outlaws will try to take that gold, and they won’t care who gets hurt.”

  Bold Eagle shook his head. “This I cannot do.”

  “Please.” Anne-Marie reached out to take his hand. “You’re our only hope and though the plan goes against everything you hold sacred, can you not help your brother?”

  “I cannot.”

  Creed shifted closer. “I know I ask much—”

  “My brother asks too much. Far too much.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

  “My brother, we need the help of your tribe if we are to be successful,” Creed said.

  Silence, heavy and foreboding, settled upon the visitors and their host. Only the fire emitted warmth. When the silence grew, Anne-Marie turned her feminine wiles upon the noble leader of his tribe. “Chief Bold Eagle, may I have permission to speak?”