The One Who Waits for Me by Lori Copeland Page B

the present circumstance to let its brightness bother her. Fighting back hysteria, she muffled a panicked laugh. What more could worry her? She’d been rescued once from Uncle Walt and Bear, and now they had recaptured her and Joanie. There would be no Captain Pierce Montgomery riding to her rescue this time. Her eyes followed Walt and Bear around the camp. Fool. She’d been a fool to consider leaving the captain’s protection. Heaping wood on the fire, Bear created a huge blaze. Apparently his last concern was that Captain Montgomery might spot them.
    Joanie snuggled closer. “Now what?” she whispered.
    Too weary to think, Beth lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know.” For the first time since she’d hatched this idiotic plan to leave the plantation and escape Uncle Walt’s tyranny, she didn’t have a solution. Her gaze roamed the heavy thicket. There was no way out. Uncle Walt sat opposite the fire, shotgun leveled at her. If she tried to make a break, he’d have no difficulty shooting Joanie.
    â€œWe’re going to let Uncle Walt take us back?”
    â€œDo you have a better plan?”
    Shaking her head, Joanie said, “Maybe it would be better to let him shoot us.”
    Beth didn’t disagree, but she didn’t agree either. She was helpless and hopeless, but she wasn’t ready to concede defeat yet.
    Sneering, Walt flashed an ugly grin. “I can see those wheels turning, girlie.”
    â€œI don’t see how.” Beth pulled Joanie’s trembling body closer. “I’m not thinking anything.”
    â€œI’m not thinkin’ anything,” he mocked. “I know you, girl. You’re thinkin’ plenty.”
    â€œAm not.”
    â€œYou are!”
    â€œOkay, I am. I’m thinking that we’re hungry and thirsty.” They hadn’t made much progress when Walt had decided to stop for the night, but that had been hours ago. He didn’t like traveling in the dark this far from home. Beth wasn’t certain where they were. Because of the circuitous route they had-taken, she was completely turned around.
    â€œOh, poor babies.” Walt glanced toward the fire. “BEAR! You’re gonna burn the dad burn camp to cinders! Ease up on the wood!”
    Straightening, Bear looked sheepish. “Sorry, Pa.”
    Logs caught and the fire burned even hotter. Walt sat the shotgun down beside him, and by his expression he was thinking seriously about something. “We’re gonna have to kill our supper.”
    â€œOkay, Pa.”
    â€œYou go scare us up a few rabbits. I’ll make a pot of coffee.”
    â€œWhat kind?”
    â€œWhat kind of what?”
    â€œWhat kind of rabbit?”
    â€œDad burn it, boy, how many kinds are there?”
    â€œWell, there are brown ones and black ones—”
    â€œJest get us some grub!” He swore under his breath. “Takes after his ma. That boy ain’t got a lick of sense.”
    Bear left, his shotgun tucked under his arm. Walt rose and walked to his horse, where he fished a coffee tin out of a leather saddlebag.
    Joanie snuggled closer to Beth, making herself comfortable despite the knapsack on her back. “I’m so tired. I don’t care if I eat or not.”
    Beth wasn’t hungry either. Her head ached, and she could hardly hold her eyes open. What a mess she’d gotten Joanie into—and Trella. Maybe they would have been better off picking cotton all day instead of running like criminals from Walt and Bear. Walt bent over the fire, scooping grounds into the pot. Eyeing his backside, Beth wondered if she was strong enough to kick him into the fire and scorch his worthless hide…
    Shaking the ugly thought away, she closed her eyes, trying to form a plan. There had to be a way out of this.
    Sounds of Bear thrashing through the bushes met the silence. If there was any game, it would be long gone by now.
    The thicket snapped.