Pierce reined up when Gray Eagle lifted a hand. The Indian’s coal-black eyes assessed the road. “Women’s footprints—or children.”
Dismounting and removing his hat, the captain wiped sweat from his forehead. “Could be children on their way to play in the creek.”
The scout shook his head. “Women.” He pointed to the dusty trail. “See. The hems of their dresses brush the ground.”
Pierce’s eyes roamed the heavy undergrowth. “If I recall, there’s an old abbey nearby. Most likely some of the sisters out for an early morning walk.”
Gray Eagle dismounted and knelt beside the dusty tracks. His fingers lightly brushed over them. “Do these sisters wear heavy boots?”
The captain shook his head. “I’m not Catholic. I don’t know what they wear.”
“They don’t,” Gray Eagle said. “These are our hummingbirds.”
Pierce scanned the area and replaced his hat. “Beth and Joanie were wearing boots, but they were also wearing men’s clothing if you recall.” His thoughts shifted to Beth. He had a hunch that woman could change like a chameleon. Quiet women made him edgy. “We’ll follow the trail a while longer. If we can’t find them, then we’ve done what we can to help.” Leather creaked as he remounted. His patience was wearing thin. He didn’t mind helping when it was needed, but these two were a little too independent.
Turning from the road and back to the thicket, Beth forged a path. Soon they came across a bubbling stream, where they dropped to their stomachs and drank their fill of the crisp, cool water. Joanie’s coughs shook her frail body. Surely if Bear or Walt were close by they would hear her. The thought had no more than left her mind than she heard the sound she had been dreading—hoofbeats.
Joanie lifted her face from the creek bed.
Beth saw tears forming in her eyes.
“It’s them,” her sister whispered.
The riders grew closer. This time they really would need a grizzly to help because Joanie simply didn’t have the strength to outrun them. Getting to her feet, Beth’s eyes searched the undergrowth. Walt and Bear might recapture them, but she intended to put a sizeable knot on each of their heads before she surrendered. “Joanie,” she whispered. “Hurry. Help me find some kind of a weapon.”
Joanie slowly got to her feet, coughing. “I can’t…”
“We have to gather some large rocks. Something I can throw.”
Joanie’s eyes met hers.
“Do as I say.” Beth paused, noting the pale color of her sister’s cheeks. “If you’re able.”
Gingerly, Joanie moved alongside her. The women worked to fashion a pile of rocks as the riders drew closer. Her uncle would likely be so angry he’d take the bull whip to her right there, but Beth didn’t care. She’d make him wish he’d forgotten all about her.
Hunkered down and waiting for the best shot as the riders approached, she could only hope they hadn’t already spotted the black robes and wimples, but common sense told her the wish would be as effective as spitting into the wind to put out a fire.
“I can throw,” Joanie wheezed.
“I’ll do the throwing. I don’t want him to have any reason to beat you too.”
“It won’t matter if I throw or not.”
Beth knew she was right, but that didn’t stop her from hoping to shield Joanie from another thrashing.
“Joanie,” Beth said as her pulse kicked into high gear.
“Yes?”
“If you’re sure there’s a God, it would be real smart to ask for a little help right now.”
Nodding, Joanie closed her eyes and Beth saw her lips move. She caught snatches of the conversation. “He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust: his truth shall be thy shield and buckler…”
The two riders drew even with the women, and she heard them suddenly rein up. They were close, but she dared not lift her head to look at them lest they see her.
“Enough praying. Start throwing,” Beth murmured.
The women stood up and let fly.
Yells rang out as rocks found their mark.
“You may want us, but you’re going to have to come get us!” Beth yelled. She threw a sizable stone that produced a substantial curse. Shame on Uncle Walt’s language!
Granite ammunition flew. Men’s angry shouts drew closer. Oh, they would be in for the beating of their lives, but it was worth it to hear Bear’s cries of pain.