Preach swung a leg over a big roan that looked more like a plow horse than a cow pony, but Matt kept his opinion on the horseflesh to himself. Portman had given them the best of his available stock. Solid mounts with deep chests and muscular legs. Shod well, no swaybacks. They wouldn’t win any races, but they’d get them to Gringolet.
Matt patted his sorrel’s neck, wishing he had Phineas beneath him. He sent a brief prayer heavenward that his gelding was being treated well by Taggart’s men, then clicked his tongue and steered his sorrel alongside Wallace, giving a nod to Jonah on the far side. He caught Preach reaching to adjust his non-existent gun belt after he settled into the saddle and shared a look with his second-in-command. None of them were comfortable with the situation, but they’d make do. That was what soldiers did.
“Got a verse for us, Preach?” The familiar question brought some level of normalcy to the start of the mission as the four men drew their horses together behind young Spafford.
“‘With him is an arm of flesh; but with us is the Lord our God to help us, and to fight our battles.’ Second Chronicles 32:8.”
“Amen,” Wallace said softly.
Matt held his mount in check for a long moment, letting the words sink into his heart and strengthen his spirit. God’s warriors had been outnumbered and outmatched before, and that hadn’t stopped them from facing their enemies and emerging victorious. If Gideon could defeat the Midianites with nothing but horns, broken jars, and God, then the Horsemen could trust the Almighty to have their backs as well.
Setting his jaw, Matt leaned forward in his saddle and signaled their guide. “On to Gringolet, John. Fast as you can.”
John proved to be an accomplished rider for a youngster. He set a quick pace and carried himself with the confidence of one accustomed to the route. When he veered off the road to a slightly overgrown path, however, Matt called a halt.
John turned in his saddle, his forehead scrunched. “This is the shortcut I told ya about, Captain Hanger. It’ll save us a good twenty minutes.”
“I know, son, but there’s a chance that Burkett might have already left the ranch. If so, we risk missing him by leaving the road.” Matt nodded to his trumpeter. “Wallace, you’re the lightest in the saddle and have one of the better horses.”
“And you’re the one most likely to smooth-talk your way into Burkett’s confidence should you meet up on the road,” Preach added.
Wallace fingered a small salute. “They won’t get past me, Captain.”
“I’ll ride with him, boss.” Jonah tipped the brim of his hat back a couple inches. “A man alone with no weapons could be an easy target.”
Brooks didn’t mention Wallace’s injury, but they all knew it would complicate things should trouble arise. Matt would have assigned Jonah the duty, but a black man traveling alone was just as tempting a target. More so to some. His first thought had been to keep as many Horsemen on the short road as possible, but waiting for one was no different than waiting for two. And Brooks was right. Traveling in pairs was safer, even if the odds of coming across trouble this early in the morning were slim. As his uncle liked to say, an ounce of prevention was worth a pound of cure.
“Good idea, Sergeant.” Matt gave a decisive nod. “Watch each other’s backs.”
“Will do.” Jonah reined his mount around and, in a blink, he and Wallace were cantering down the road.
Matt turned back to John. “Lead on, young man.” He winked. “And make sure we beat them there.”
John grinned. “Yes, sir!”
The kid nudged his mare into an easy lope. Matt and Preach followed. Despite being overgrown with spring grasses, the ground was hard-packed and easily traveled, free of prairie dog holes and rocky soil that could bring a horse up lame.
They made good time, thanks to their able guide, who seemed to know the path’s location even when it disappeared from sight.
Finally, John reined in his mare at the top of a rise and pointed down into a lush valley. “There she is, Captain Hanger. Gringolet.”
Large paddocks ran the length of the valley, filled with horses bred for courage, stamina, and speed. A dark bay raced the length of a fence while Matt watched, his stride graceful, his black mane flowing, his head stretched forward as if nothing would stop him from reaching his goal. Matt’s breath caught at the sheer beauty of it.
Then another movement drew his gaze. Three, maybe four men in front of a barn. Tacking up their mounts. Prepping supplies. Readying for a journey.
One of the knots in Matt’s gut unraveled. They hadn’t missed them. Thank the Lord.
A man stood in the center of the commotion. Tall. Commanding. The bark of his voice carried to the top of the rise.
Thaddeus Burkett.
He wouldn’t welcome the interference of strangers, but Matt didn’t care. Josie was in danger, and her father needed the knowledge the Horsemen possessed about Taggart’s gang. And Matt needed the location of the ransom. Whether Burkett liked it or not, he’d just gotten himself a partner.
“Let’s go.” Not waiting for their young guide to lead the way, Matt touched his heels to his mount’s flanks and set off down the hill.
It didn’t take long for the men below to notice his approach. Shouts arose, rifles took aim, and a warning shot echoed above Matt’s head.
Matt reined in his mount, turning the gelding in a circle to ease his sudden halt. “Hold your fire,” he called. “I’ve got a kid with me. John Spafford.”
“Johnny?” One of the men lowered his rifle, exposing his youthful face as he gazed up the hill.
“It’s me, Nick. Don’t shoot.” John’s horse pulled up alongside Matt’s. Luke flanked the kid on the far side. “These fellas are here to help, Mr. Burkett. They know Dr. Jo.”
Thaddeus Burkett yanked his rifle from his shoulder but kept it gripped and ready in front of him as he marched forward. Matt dismounted to meet him on equal footing.
“Keep your hands where I can see ’em,” Burkett ordered, pointing his rifle barrel at Matt’s midsection.
Matt showed his palms. “I’m unarmed.”
Burkett advanced until he stood barely three feet away, his glower fierce. He took Matt’s measure, his gaze widening as he noticed his vest. “You a cavalryman?”
“Was, until a couple years ago. Served thirteen years with the 7th.”
Burkett’s eyes widened. “One of Custer’s men?”
Matt shook his head. “Joined up after Little Bighorn.” He tipped his head in Preach’s direction. “This is my corporal, Luke Davenport. I’m Matt Hanger. I’ve got two more men on their way via the road. We wanted to make sure we didn’t miss you.”
Burkett straightened a bit at hearing Matt’s name. He recognized it but wasn’t overly impressed. Matt wouldn’t expect him to be. Newspaper articles sensationalized the Horsemen. A soldier who had seen battle judged a man on his deeds, not the rumors surrounding him.
When he finished raking Matt with his gaze, Burkett turned his critical eye to the animal he’d ridden in on. Matt could feel the judgment. Any cavalry officer worth his salt would have a better horse beneath him.
Burkett’s weathered face showed his distaste. “Livery nags?”
Matt nodded. “Yep. Best we could manage after Taggart relieved us of our mounts.”
Burkett turned his face and spat on the ground. “I got no use for cavalrymen who’d forfeit their horses to outlaw scum to save their hides.”
Matt held his ground. “It wasn’t our hides we were saving.” He waited until Burkett’s gaze met his, his green eyes a shade darker than Josie’s. “Your daughter’s life meant more to me than keeping my horse.”
Thaddeus exploded. He lunged at Matt, thankfully swinging his fist and not his rifle butt. Matt blocked the punch with his forearm but took no offensive action.
“My Jo was under your protection, and you let that monster take her?” Burkett accused as one of his men moved to pull him away. “What kind of soldier are you?”
“The kind who will give his life to get her back.”
CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE
Preach dismounted and stood at Matt’s side, fists clenched, stance wide, ready to even the odds should things escalate, but Burkett deflated before their eyes. He shrugged away from the man who’d grabbed him and handed over his rifle. Probably to remove the temptation of shooting the man who’d failed to keep his daughter from harm. Then he blew out a breath and rubbed a hand over his face.
“Tell me everything. From the beginning.”
“You’d best not be plying these men for information without me, Thaddeus Burkett.” A small woman, slightly plump, wove around horses and men as if they were no more an impediment than stones were to a free-flowing stream.
Skirts twitching, she marched up to Burkett and planted herself at his side. Her brown eyes sparked as she jammed a hand onto one hip. Suddenly, Matt knew exactly where Josie had gotten her spunk and sass.
“I love those children like they were my own. I will not be excluded. Especially when—” Her voice cracked, but she swallowed and lifted her chin. “Especially when it’s my fault our Jo is in this mess. If I hadn’t sent that letter . . .”
“Hush, now, Darla. It ain’t your fault.” Burkett yanked his hat from his head and beat it against his leg a couple times, his face softening. “I should have just paid that stupid ransom the first time. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me.”
She shook her head as he crammed his hat back on and turned away to start pacing. “You did what you thought was right, Thaddeus.”
He spun around, his face tight with self-recrimination. “Well, my thinking was wrong, wasn’t it? And Jo’s paying the price.”
Darla—the housekeeper, if Matt remembered correctly from the letter Josie had shown him—moved to Burkett’s side and slipped her arm through his. “Casting blame’s not gonna help Jo. But if what I heard young Johnny announce when he rode in is true, these men can. Let’s hear them out. Together.” She looked up at Matt, then shifted her gaze to include Preach. “Come on up to the house, fellas. I’ve got coffee on.”
“We don’t got time for coffee,” Burkett protested. “Jo’s out there—”
“Where, exactly?” Darla’s tone sharpened. “Do you know where she is right now, Thaddeus?”
Burkett had a good dozen inches on the little woman, but he was the one looking intimidated. There were definitely more feelings at play with these two than mere respect between employer and employee.
Burkett straightened. “I know where she’s gonna be.”
“Tomorrow,” Darla qualified. “You know where she’s going to be tomorrow at three in the afternoon. You have no earthly idea where she is right now. You can afford thirty minutes to hear these men out.” She pulled her arm from his and turned to lead the way to the house. “You might even learn something.”
A path opened for her as men hopped out of her way.
“Aggravatin’ woman.” Burkett mumbled the complaint under his breath, but it carried no heat. In fact, were Matt a betting man, he’d lay odds there was affection lacing the remark.
Burkett shot a glare at Matt. “Come on, then.”
No affection in that statement. Just iron and grit.
Matt stepped forward in compliance, opting to save his words for what was to come. It would be a tale as hard to hear as to tell.
“Albert. Eddie.” Burkett waved at the two older hands. “Y’all come too. Best you know what you’re gettin’ yourselves into.”
The men returned their rifles to the boots on their saddles and made to follow their boss.
Burkett pivoted so that he walked backward, gesturing to Nick. “Spafford boys, give those rented nags some water and rub them down. Johnny can take ’em back to town with him when we’re done here. Saddle four of the three-year-olds for these fellas to ride. I ain’t about to be slowed down by substandard horseflesh.”
Nick moved to take the reins of Preach’s mount. “Yes, sir.”
Preach shot a half-grin at Matt. “I always wanted to ride a Gringolet mount.”
Burkett sidled close to Luke, nearly matching him in height if not in breadth. “Fail to prove yourself worthy of the horse you ride, and you’ll be the one put out to pasture when this is over.”
The murmured threat only widened Preach’s smile. He elbowed Matt in the side. “I like him. You could do worse for an in-law.”
Burkett reared back, his shocked expression quickly hardening to something much more sinister.
Matt bit back a groan. Preach was gonna pay for that. Not that his friend cared. His eyes danced with so much laughter, it was a miracle they stayed in his head.
“One battle at a time,” Matt said through a tight jaw, lengthening his stride as if he could outrun the fuse Preach had just lit. “Let’s focus on getting Josie back first and deal with the rest later.”
“Her name is Dr. Burkett to you, soldier.” Josie’s father’s voice rumbled like a thundercloud ready to fling lightning at the mere mortal who dared speak of his daughter in familiar terms.
They didn’t have time for this.
Matt spun to face the older man. “Look. My intentions toward your daughter are honorable. That’s all you need to know at this point. If you want to come after me with tar and feathers later, fine, but right now there are bigger threats at play.”
Before Burkett could reply, Matt swiveled forward and marched up the steps to the house’s back porch, where Darla stood grinning at him as she held the door wide. She and Preach could start up a hoedown with all the humor frolicking around on their faces. Making a point to avoid the housekeeper’s eyes, Matt set his jaw and strode into the kitchen.
It took only moments for the men to gather around the kitchen table. Burkett sat at the head with his hands flanking him on either side. Matt took a chair at the opposite end, and Preach settled in beside him, leaving a place open for the housekeeper, should she decide to join them after she finished pouring coffee for everyone.
Burkett ignored his freshly filled cup. He planted his forearms on the table, leaned in, and glared straight at Matt. “Darla told me about the letter she wrote to Josephine. Why don’t you pick up the tale there and fill in the missing pieces?”
Matt nodded and proceeded to give a bare-bones report of how Josie had tracked them down and hired the Horsemen to rescue her brother. How she’d insisted on accompanying them. How he’d insisted she remain out of harm’s way in Chatfield while they hunted Taggart’s gang. He recounted the rescue of Charlie, emphasizing the strategy they employed, the number of men Taggart had at his disposal, weaknesses they’d observed, and areas where the outlaws had proven competent adversaries. There was no need to describe the danger inherent in the mission. Burkett was a military man. He understood.
After listening intently without interruption, Burkett suddenly flattened his palm against the tabletop. “Hold up, Hanger. If the rescue was successful and Jo was safely in Chatfield, how did she come to be taken?”
Matt shared a look with Preach. How much to say?
“Out with it, man.”
Still Matt hesitated, searching for a way to be truthful yet tactful.
Burkett shoved his chair away from the table, the scrape echoing loudly in the quiet room. “It was Charlie, wasn’t it? He did something stupid.” He paced away from the table, as if ashamed to face the men assembled in his kitchen. He blew out an audible breath, then slowly turned and met Matt’s gaze. “Tell me. All of it.”
“Best I can figure, Charlie suspected you might not pay the initial ransom, so he and Taggart came up with an alternate plan.”
The starch drained out of Burkett, aging him before their eyes. He grabbed the chairback in front of him. “Are you . . .” He swallowed and tried again. “Are you telling me my son willingly connived with Taggart? That he intentionally put his s
ister in danger?”
“Charlie would never!” Darla abandoned her post by the stove and moved to Burkett’s side. She placed a hand on his arm. “He might be a scamp and a troublemaker, but he’d never do anything to hurt Jo.”
Preach scratched at a spot on his whiskered jaw. “A desperate man can do unthinkable things when cornered, ma’am,” he said, his voice sober. “Things he’d never consider under normal circumstances.”
Tears filled the housekeeper’s eyes as she shook her head. “I won’t believe it. You don’t know him. You don’t know how close those two were when they were children. After they lost their mother . . .” Her words broke off in a quiet sob.
Burkett cupped his hand over hers where it lay on his arm. “They haven’t been children for years, Darla. The boy’s changed. He’s been on a destructive path for a while now. I tried to correct his course, but he’s as hardheaded as his old man. Determined to go his own way even if the path leads to a jail cell . . . or worse.” He looked up from the woman at his side. “But Darla’s right about one thing. Charlie might turn his back on me, but he’d never harm Jo.”
“I believe he thought he could keep her safe,” Matt said, knowing it would be small comfort. Burkett knew as well as he did that once in the outlaw camp, Charlie would have zero bargaining power with Taggart. He was a means to an end—a way to ensure Taggart got his money. Nothing more.
“Fool,” Burkett muttered.
“Taggart sent men by train to scout out the nearby towns and spotted us in Chatfield. We made a run for it, but our horses were spent. Taggart’s were fresh. We made a stand in a shallow wash. I left Charlie to guard his sister. They both had strict orders to flee if the battle turned against us.”
“Jo’s never been one to follow orders blindly,” Burkett observed, the hint of a sad smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “She tends to make up her own mind about things.”
Matt’s lips twitched upward. “I know. I made her swear to leave. She gave her word.”
Burkett nodded. “Smart move. About the only way to guarantee her cooperation.”
At Love's Command Page 23
