The Homecoming

by Raine Cantrell

  Matt didn’t know if he wanted to laugh at Laine’s foolish notion that he’d be so careless, or send her a message that would blister her hide.

  Silence seemed best. After all, she had accused him of provoking his own trouble, and he admitted she was right.

  Besides, he reminded himself, it was nice to know that she was worrying about him.

  Now Matt faced a choice. Take the dugout and prowl the swamp for sign of Law or ride out looking for him. He cursed himself for not arranging some kind of signal.

  When Laine heard the dog barking, she ran from the house. She was rewarded to see Billy and Tater coming up the path. Her heart sank as Tater handed her the pie.

  “Didn’t you find him?”

  “Sure. We talked. He’s gonna tend to finding Law.”

  “Then why did you bring the pie back?”

  “Matt’s camping by the river. He couldn’t leave it. He couldn’t take it. So he told me to bring it home.” With a stretch and a yawn, he added, “I’m tired from poling that dugout so far. I’ll go lay down. Coming, Billy?”

  Laine caught his wink. Her brother had taken her words of caution not to let Billy push too hard. She was so proud of him once he’d gotten over his initial shock. Even as he hovered over her and Rachel, he fetched and carried while they tended to Billy’s cuts and bruises and insect bites.

  “Tater, take the pie inside. Each of you can have a piece, or there are biscuits.”

  She watched them go, regretting she didn’t question him about Matt. Why wasn’t he living in his house? How did he look? Had he asked after her? No sooner had they formed than Laine dismissed them. There were far more serious matters requiring attention.

  She prayed Matt would be careful. She prayed, too, as she had been for her friend Mary and her husband, Wade. And the others Billy heard them talk about hanging. She couldn’t forget a prayer for the men who would attempt a rescue.

  She didn’t know how she would fill the hours of waiting. “Matt,” she whispered, “please, please come back to me.”

  Chapter Nine

  That night Matt camped on the bank of the Sabine River. He spent what had been left of the day in a search for campsites Law might choose. He found little enough sign. It gave him satisfaction to know these were careful men not easily found. But he knew what they needed in the way of a place to hide and was sure he could find them.

  A cold camp meant no fire. He knew he should sleep but, looking up at the inky night sky brilliant with stars, his thoughts turned to Laine. He pictured her with the candlelight burning like gold through her bronze hair, her eyes the color of smoked crystal, the soft rose of her mouth. The desire to be with her came quickly; the desire and need to hold her had become an ache he had to live with.

  But that night he had known what home felt like with the warmth of welcome and fire, the smell of good food, the four of them sitting together as a family.

  And then Laine’s temper.

  His lips creased in a rueful grin. His sweet Laine had a passionate nature hot enough to blister hide. Look at the way she took fire in his arms.

  No, don’t remember, he warned himself with a groan. But the memory raked the tiny claws of desire to sink a little deeper each time he did.

  He had to channel his thoughts to practical matters he could do something about. Like how many men Law had with him, and how many they’d go up against. And where exactly this holding stockade was located. Billy only knew they headed north.

  Weapons were another consideration.

  And so his thoughts went until he fell asleep. When light broke, he had Blueboy saddled, had finished a few pieces of jerky, and was ready to ride.

  A few minutes of looking showed him where a party of horses had crossed the river. It was a low spot, no higher than the horse’s hocks, and he gave a passing thought to who he was following.

  The trail disappeared. Matt dismounted, casting back and forth across the path. Some smart man had not brushed out the tracks; he had sifted dried pine needles in a thick layer to cover them. Matt persisted. He finally found dried river mud. Leading his horse, he continued on foot, going deeper into the pines.

  Nearly two hours later he spied the first picket and reminded himself that Law had served in the army and was sure to post guards. It stood to reason if he found one, he should expect to find others. He wasn’t worried. He wasn’t coming as an enemy.

  Still he couldn’t resist getting closer before softly calling out.

  “Hello, the camp. I’m friendly.”

  He may have surprised the picket, but the boy’s quick reflexes had his rifle pointed at Matt with his finger on the trigger.

  “Who you be, mister?”

  “You a Louisiana boy?” And boy he was. Gangly, and between cowlick and rounded cheeks he looked about sixteen.

  “I am. What’s that to you?”

  “I need to see someone here.”

  “You ain’t tole me your name. You ain’t given me the password. You jus’ ain’t gonna see no one but me an’ this here rifle.”

  Matt put his belief in his tracking skills that he found the right camp.

  “I’m Matt Coltrane from over near the settlement. I’m looking for Law Emmons or the Owens brothers. I’ve got word about friends of theirs. And I don’t know any damn password ’cause I’ve had no part in this fight.”

  Someone saw him, or heard him and recognized him.

  “Let him pass, Caleb.”

  It was Will Bent who stepped from the trees, his rifle cradled in his arms.

  “Coffee’s on.”

  “And welcome it’ll be. Been making cold camps while I hunted your trail.”

  “Good to know it was hard.”

  Matt followed him for about two hundred feet into a clearing. They had made brush shelters from the pine boughs. Of horses, there were no signs. Or of Law.

  There were close to fifteen men, a few sleeping. Most looked him over, the way he did them.

  The fire was off to one side, two coffee pots pulled back to the edge. Will filled them each a cup, motioned Matt over, and handed him one.

  “Small stream back a ways. Water the horses a few at a time. Law is taking his turn. You want your horse tended?”

  There it was. Trust a stranger with Blueboy? Matt knew when he decided to make this his fight that he would need to trust other men. Still, he found it hard to do.

  “He’s a might fussy about being handled. Had him as a two year old running with mustangs. We took a shine to each other and been together ever since.” He sipped his coffee and hoped that Will understood.

  His knowing smile could have meant anything. But Matt was saved saying more when Law arrived.

  “What happened, Matt? It had to be something to bring you looking for us.”

  “I’m not running, if that’s what you mean.” He glanced around. “You want to talk here?”

  “They know what I know. We’re in this together. All for one and one for all.”

  “Billy Perry escaped and made his way to Laine’s. He was pretty beat up coming through the swamp and bayou but he knows there’s a holding stockade north of here. They’re planning on hanging the men. Your friend Wade was shot and Billy didn’t know if his father was still alive. His ma is.”

  “So you’re joining us?”

  “I’m here, ain’t I?”

  Will offered coffee to Law as Matt cleared a space and, with a stick from the kindling pile, began to draw.

  “Billy said there were ten or twelve men that raided them. They had a good start so should be there by now. How many they are joining up with is unknown. I’ve given a lot of thought to where this stockade could be. Lake of the Pines or Patman Lake seem likely spots. It’s not settled, there’s plenty of water and not all that far.”

  Men crowded around, murmuring among themselves.

  “Did Billy have any idea how many folks they have roun
ded up for this hanging party?” Law asked.

  “No, he didn’t. Wasn’t anyone else with them.”

  Matt looked at the map he’d drawn. “I also gave some thought to getting away. They’ll expect us to head south. We’ll go east across the border to Louisiana, then south to Caddo Lake. I can take us through the swamp but there are places we’ll have to swim the horses.

  “We divide up whoever there is to rescue. Some go across the border to Shreveport, a few can go west to Dallas or Fort Worth. We get across the Trinity River down to Houston. Anyone who can’t ride alone comes with us.”

  “You’re figuring there’ll be any left alive to hunt us?”

  Matt glanced at the man who spoke. He was a broad man with a wide face and pointy chin with two pistols stuck in his belt.

  “I’m not slighting any man’s shooting ability. Like I said, I don’t know how many men are there. Could be twenty, or double that.” Matt looked around at the circle of serious faces. “If anyone here knows different I’ll listen.”

  “At least we know those tracks we found two days back were sending us in the right direction.” Law sipped his coffee. “This is no man’s army with my way or no way. If any man has a better plan let’s hear it. But I do believe Matt laid out a solid plan to start.”

  “Wait, Law, there’s more to consider,” Matt said. “I don’t want to insult anyone. You know these men. I don’t. And they don’t know me. But before any shooting or rescuing gets done, we need their horses. Unless you have a herd hidden in the trees?”

  “We still got a few spares,” Will answered.

  By this time six more men had joined them. Matt figured twenty-five total. A small band, but from the looks on the men’s faces, a most determined one.

  “What else do you have in mind?” Law asked.

  “I need two woodsmen. I know you’ve all hunted, but I need ghosts that can move without making a sound. We’ll go in first, get the horses, then you can attack.”

  “I get you mean no insult,” another man said. “But what makes you one of these ghosts?”

  “Tarney, I’ll stand for Matt.”

  “Thanks, Law, but he’s got a right to ask. Like I said, none of these men know me. I spent the last six years out west. I fought Apache, Comanche, Kiowa and Sioux. As you gents can see, I still have my scalp. What’s more, I spent time with buffalo hunters who lived, traded and fought Indians. I went out west green as grass about surviving in lands where there’s no water. Never been a problem for us,” he added to chuckles, for the many lakes, rivers, the bayou and the swamp that surrounded them.

  “So how’d you find water?” There was no challenge in the man’s voice, just curiosity.

  “I learned to follow insect trails. Look for plants that can’t survive without water, or follow the bees. Damndest thing. Many a time they led me to natural stone pools up in the rocks. And you pray while you fill your canteen that the Apache tracking you doesn’t take the same notion.” Matt sipped from his cup.

  “I heard enough,” Tarney said, and several other men agreed.

  “Well I sure didn’t.”

  It was Caleb who spoke. He stood with rifle tucked under his arm, his other hand on the barrel.

  “I’d be wantin’ to hear more. I ain’t got a home left. Nor any folks once these raiders come. When we is done, I’ll mosey out to those western lands my own self.”

  “I’ll tell you, Caleb. Once we’re done and there’s time for yarning around the fire.”

  “That’s real fine, Mister Coltrane. Real fine.”

  “It’s just Matt.” He met Law’s, then Will’s gaze. They conveyed the same message. If we survive.

  “I’ll go with Matt,” Will volunteered. “We went to some of the same schools.”

  Law looked around. “Where’s Albie Nunce?”

  “Standing his watch,” several men answered.

  “Someone take his place. He’ll make the third of Matt’s ghosts.”

  “When you figure on starting, Law?” Tarney asked.

  “Matt? It’s your plan.”

  “Nothing wrong with right now.” Matt went to his saddlebag and pulled out a pair of moccasins. He sat on the ground to remove his boots then noticed Will doing the same.

  “Same school, huh?” Matt grinned.

  “Damn close.”

  “Can you fellows ride wearin’ ’em?” Caleb wanted to know.

  “Easy as sitting in a rocking chair,” Matt replied.

  “I seen Indians wearin’ ’em, but they never had no horses.”

  “Out west there’s herds of horses running loose for the catching. And to Indians, as well as us, horses mean great wealth. The Indian with the most horses gets the prettiest girls,” Matt teased.

  “Ain’t got time for girls. I gotta hunt me a place where no one comes to rob an’ burn me out.”

  “Amen, Caleb. That’s what most men want.”

  Matt took Blueboy to the stream, letting him drink a little, then feeding him a handful of grain. When the horse dipped his head to the water again, Matt led him away.

  “Sorry, boy. We got a ride to make. I don’t want you sloshing so much water that you can’t run.”

  Blueboy rested his jaw on Matt’s shoulder, inviting petting. Matt indulged him for a few minutes, his thoughts filled with silent promises to Laine. He’d make sure she and her family were free from living with this terror of lives ripped apart for other men’s greed. And he swore something else. He swore he’d work to make himself worthy of her. Be a man she could be proud of.

  When Matt rejoined the men, the brush shelters were gone, the fire pit wiped out, and Will stood waiting with a man he introduced as Albie Nunce.

  He had a long lean build with a beard as thick and black as his hair and eyes.

  “Howdy. Hear you be wantin’ a savvy woodsman. Grew up huntin’ the Tennessee hills with Cherokee.”

  “That’s fine. Did they tell you what we planned?”

  “I’m standin’ here, ain’t I?”

  Matt had forgotten the same sort of men he knew in the hills of Kentucky. Men of few words, whose actions spoke for them.

  “Then we’re wasting time. Mount up.”

  “He won’t ride, Matt,” Law explained, walking his bay closer and leading two saddled horses. “Albie here would rather scout on foot.”

  “Don’t be worryin’ none. I’ll be there when needed.” With that he turned, picked up his long gun and a small pack that he slung over his shoulder, and within a few feet had disappeared into the pines.

  “You sure know how to pick ’em, Law.”

  “Albie found me. He lost his two boys in the war. Came down here to help his cousin and get his missus away. Then he comes home from hunting one day and found the place burning, the whole family dead.”

  Matt mounted. He didn’t know what to say.

  “That sort of story holds for more than a few of these men, Matt. The others are actively being hunted for wearing gray and fighting for what they believed in.”

  “Makes a man bitter. But we’ll even the odds. And with luck, we can better them.” Matt let Law take the lead. He fell in behind for now. But he wanted to be with Albie doing his own scouting.

  Matt rode up alongside Law. “When I was talking about my time out west, it got me to thinking about the Apaches. They’re great fighters. Vicious, mind you. But they can fight. Running the army ragged ’cause they hit a place and run. By the time you think you’re chasing them, they’d turned back and attacked another ranch or maybe the same one. Then they disappear. There is a trick to it. The soft sand helps, but they tie cloth to their horses’ hooves so no tracks get left.”

  “Your point?”

  “Think about changing tactics. If you start hitting them, and hitting hard, they’ll be so worried guarding what they’ve stolen, they won’t have time to attack anyone and steal more.”

  “You could’ve been an officer, Matt.”
<
br />   “I told you. I didn’t want to fight. Could not see the right or wrong of either side. Each believed what they did, and fought to prove themselves right.”

  “But you’re here.”

  It took a few minutes for Matt to answer him. And when he did, it wasn’t what Law had expected.

  “Laine and her sister came and cleaned my house. The needed repairs wouldn’t have stopped me from living there. But my house is a trap for a man alone. I wanted simple things to make me content. Men who don’t know me decided I couldn’t have anything. The committee for confiscation, they call themselves. Then I heard that boy Billy. He’s no older than Laine’s brother. Kids should not live with that kind of fear. And then there’s Laine. A woman who’s forced to wear a gun to protect herself and her family. That don’t sit right with me. So I figured if these invaders of our lands show such mean cussedness, I got some mean cussedness of my own to give back.”

  Law didn’t doubt the fury in Matt despite his soft-spoken manner. He could almost see the heat of fury rising from him.

  Will rode up then, tying an empty sack to the full one on his saddle horn. He caught Matt’s puzzled look.

  “Covered a good part of our leaving with pine needles. Brushed out some tracks along the way. If they find where we camped they’ll have a time figuring how many we are. I’ll try to do the same when we get away.”

  “Mighty sure of yourself,” Matt remarked with a grin.

  “Only way to be.”

  “Then let’s ride.”

  Matt watched for sign that Albie had left as they worked their way through the woods. He couldn’t see many of the men, but he could feel the tension building in them and himself as the hours passed.

  Chapter Ten

  Laine gave Tater a holiday from chores and took them on herself. She chopped wood until her arms and shoulders screamed with pain. This didn’t lessen her worry for Matt that beset her.

  The cabin received a cleaning it didn’t need. The animals had more grooming, and all the while she alternately cursed, then praised Matt in her thoughts.

  The cursing came from the intense worry that had taken hold of her and refused to be banished. She wanted to scream out but swallowed it. The praise came far easier. She knew his innate goodness and fairness. He would never turn his back on someone in need.