What’s all the shooting about?” Pierce shouted as soon as they arrived back at the village.
An elderly warrior indicated up the road, where gunfire still sounded. A bullet zinged past Pierce’s ear. Gray Eagle raced on ahead as Pierce pushed Beth and Joanie to the ground just inside the perimeter of the camp. “Stay down!” He didn’t want to leave them unprotected, but he had to deal with whatever was going on further up the road. Nothing good, that was for sure. “Stay with your sister,” he said to Beth. “Be safe.”
Gray Eagle rode up, leading the captain’s horse by the reins. Pierce leaped into the saddle, and the two men joined a small group of warriors inside the entry gate.
“What’s going on?” Pierce called to the Indians.
“Someone is shooting into the camp.”
The riders moved out, and it only took seconds before they caught sight of the culprits, who by now had stopped shooting. Walt and Bear listed in their saddles, with the younger man drooping over the horn.
Pierce’s jaw firmed. “It figures. They’re drunk.”
“Why do they shoot into our camp and threaten our women and children?” a nearby Cherokee warrior asked.
Pierce turned to Gray Eagle for the proper term. “What is the Cherokee word for idiot?”
He answered in the native tongue.
The Indian’s face lit with understanding. Then he looked at the bearded stragglers with disgust before moving away.
“These two aren’t going to give up. I might as well see what I can do.” Gray Eagle nudged his horse a bit closer.
From their appearance, Walt and Bear—dirty, unshaven, and with matted hair—had continued their search for the Jornigan sisters. Pierce wrinkled his nose as an unmistakable odor wafted toward him. The nuisances were soaked in whiskey fumes.
“Greed.” Gray Eagle shook his head. “These two have no concern for anyone but themselves.”
Pierce agreed. “We can’t hand the women over to them, and we can’t move on with our lives while these two roam free.” Shifting in the saddle, he studied the distance, letting out a humorless laugh. “My land is somewhere around here. I could be free of this and drinking real coffee—not that harsh chicory stuff we’ve had over the years—but real coffee each morning. Eating peach pie swimming in heavy cream for dessert at night.”
Gray Eagle met the captain’s eyes. “They only want Beth and Joanie.”
Shrugging, Pierce said, “Well, they will meet their Maker trying to get them out of my hands.”
Gray Eagle nodded. “Or mine.”
Pierce walked his horse closer to Bear. “Drunk as skunks,” he confirmed after he had leaned over to check the now-unconscious man’s pulse.
“Don’ touch my boy!” Walt slurred.
“This one too.” Gray Eagle straightened in the saddle and studied the nearly senseless lout. “How long do you suppose they’ve known where we are?”
Shaking his head, the captain said, “Hard to say.” His features darkened. “You don’t think they’ve been to the abbey?”
Gray Eagle turned his horse. “I’ll check on the sisters.” He rode off in a cloud of dust.
Pierce stared at the miscreants. It took a lot to rile him, but these two were pushing his limits. Glancing at his sidearm, he realized he could put a stop to their chase right here and now. Shifting in the saddle, he debated with himself and then shook his head. He’d had enough killing. He didn’t need two more deaths on his conscience.
Bear and now Walt snored, mouths agape.
Sighing, Pierce caught the bridles of their horses and led them down the road for a while. Far enough away that the drunks wouldn’t immediately know where they were when they awoke. Then one by one he hoisted Walt’s and Bear’s dead weight out of the saddle and dragged them to a thicket, wading through a patch of poison ivy.
He hated the plant as badly as cold winters without a coat, but there was a certain irony that he didn’t miss. A smirk tilted the corners of his mouth.
Stepping carefully, he dumped Walt in the itchy weed, and then moved to haul Bear to an even larger bed.
Twenty minutes later, he stood back and surveyed his work. Both men were now in fetal positions, hands and feet secured, in a sizable patch of poison ivy.
The second part had been tricky but worth the effort. He’d located a large beehive, and then with determined finesse, he’d taken out his pocket knife and made a long pole from a hickory stick. He managed to work enough honey from the hive to make a face cream for Beth’s uncle and cousin. He’d heard honey was good for the skin. No, wait a minute. Maybe that was milk.
Straightening, he searched the fields. Speaking of milk, too bad a cow wasn’t nearby…
So what else could he do to strongly hint that they ought to give up and go home?
He worked another ten minutes, smearing thick honey on the snoring men’s faces—he even dropped a taste or two on their slack tongues. They twitched and tried to swat his stick away but never woke up.
After wiping his hands on the grass, he picked up the men’s firearms, careful to check their clothing for any additional ammunition or weapons.
Overhead, bees buzzed.
Walking back to the road, he stored the guns in his saddlebags. Then he grabbed the reins of the two horses and his mare and turned back to admire his work. If this didn’t quench a man’s doggedness, he didn’t know what would.
His gaze focused on the sleeping men. They were clever enough to shed the ropes once they sobered up, but they would be mighty uncomfortable for a few days. And they’d better have their running boots on. They were going to need them.
Shaking his head, he mounted. Pity some folk had to be so worrisome.
Gray Eagle was back at the camp when Pierce returned. He nodded to the captain. “The nuns are fine. They said they haven’t seen Walt and Bear around.”
“That’s good to know.” After seeing to the horses, the men fell into step.
“What did you do with them?” Gray Eagle asked.
“Not much. Walt and Bear were sleeping it off when I left.”
“You didn’t end the matter?”
“Wasn’t in the mood.”
Gray Eagle sent Pierce a questioning look.
“Short of killing them,” Pierce said, “I don’t know what to do. So I tried a little friendly persuasion.”
“We can’t let them shoot into camp.”
“No, we can’t. But unless it’s self-defense, what can we do?”
The men met questioning gazes as they walked. Beth ran to greet them. “What did you do with them?”
“Gave them a little comeuppance,” Pierce said. “Don’t worry about them.”
Was that appreciation he saw? Affection? Careful, Montgomery. Those big eyes are getting to you.
Gray Eagle smiled at Beth. “Where is Joanie?”
“She’s on her pallet. The excitement aggravated her cough.”
Grim-faced, Gray Eagle excused himself and walked away.
Beth walked along beside Pierce. “What did they do? Walt and Bear?”
Pausing, he turned to face her. “They didn’t do anything. I believe our lunch was interrupted. I’m starved. Is there anything to eat?”
“Um…sure. I’ll fix you something.”
“Thanks. I’ll be back shortly. I want to clean honey off my hands.”
“Honey?”
“I’ll be back shortly,” he said again with a wink. He watched her walk off and wondered if he should have done more to keep Walt and Bear from her and Joanie. He could have ended the matter there and then, but that would mean leaving, and he was getting sort of comfortable in his misery. If the pests rode into camp and demanded Joanie in exchange for Beth’s knowledge of where the deed was hidden, he and Gray Eagle would do what needed to be done.
He’d had his fill of the game.