 
### Riders Coming

### Russ McNeill Kelly Woolley

### Published by Russ McNeill and Kelly Woolley at Smashwords

### Copyright 2014 Russ McNeill, Kelly Woolley

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### Contents

Preface

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

About the Authors

Comes A Rider Prologue

Comes A Rider, Chapter One

Comes A Rider, Chapter Two

Comes A Rider, Chapter Three

Preface

Riders Coming is the beginning of the Riders series that authors McNeill and Woolley are writing. It features three Confederate soldiers who are riding home after the South is defeated. May of 1865 is a time when civil government has collapsed in the southern states. Desperate men with no means of supporting themselves are trying to return to their homes. Most are honest men, but some resort to violence and there is no law to hold them in check **.**

Our story features three honest men, Matt Dixon, Paul Mueller, and John Combs, who decide to travel together to return home. Their plans are delayed in Arkansas, when their paths cross six Confederate deserters who are traveling the same route. These deserters are on a violent spree of terror, which includes looting, killing, and worse.

This story is about the way these men deal with these outlaws and at the same time sets the stage for the second book of the series, **Comes A Rider**.

We hope you enjoy reading this book as much as we enjoyed writing it. And we hope you will follow Matt and Paul in **Comes A Rider** , the next book of the series **.**

Visit our website www.russmcneill.com to order Comes A Rider, and other works.

Prologue

It was the middle of June, 1863, ten o'clock at night in the little town of Mason, Texas. The two Mathews brothers had been drinking, hard. They had started before dark, in a poker game with a bottle on the table. As they drank more, their luck went downhill along with their money. Their month's wages were gone along with their ability to buy more whiskey. They had a bad reputation with the bartender and to get them out of his bar before trouble started, he had given them a cheap bottle of rotgut liquor. Now that bottle was gone, and they were feeling mean.

As they rode north out of Mason toward their family ranch, the men knew they had a hard month's work staring them in the face, with no money to break the boredom. Their father was an old man but he was still very strict and neither of them looked forward to explaining to him why they were broke again. It had happened often and his scorn was hard to take.

An hour later, out on the main trail toward home one of the brothers stopped and held up his hand when he saw the side trail that led off to the west. He said, "Hey, ain't that where that old Dutchie lives? I know their boy went off to the war and I don't think there's anyone there except the old man and his wife. They're some of those damn Duchheads and they're Yankee lovers. Even though the boy did go to fight for the South."

The other man was half asleep in the saddle but he stopped his horse. He said, "So what?"

"Maybe the old man has something to drink, is so what," the first man said while he grinned. "It's gonna be a long month, brother. You think maybe a jug or two would make it easier?"

The other brother perked up and said, "I do, but we ain't got a cent. How we gonna git it?"

The first man had already turned his horse on the trail to the house. He said,

"Well, we ask them nice. If that don't work, we take it. They're just German Dutchheads. Nobody cares around here."

The two brothers rode up to the house and a dog started to bark, tenuously at first, then more aggressively as they rode into the yard. A coal-oil lantern flickered in the house, and then came on. A man holding a rifle came out the front door, with both hands on the gun. He shushed the dog and said, "Anything wrong out here?"

The first brother said, "Nothing wrong, and there won't be if you got anything to drink in there."

The man walked off the porch and into the yard. "Is that you Mathews boys? Surely you didn't come riding up here in the middle of the night expecting us to give you something to drink. Why don't you boys go on home and sober up."

***

August,1863. Barbara Babineaux is sitting on the veranda of her plantation home, watching the sun rise over the pines outside her expansive yard. Her big black cat, Bailey, climbs up to her lap and settles down. This morning she has time to think about her life and the situation she's gotten herself into. She is tired of the war, tired of Texas, and bored with her deceased husband's family. She is living in Milam, deep in the heart of East Texas, just a few miles from the Sabine River which divides Texas from Louisiana. She is also sick of the blood sucking mosquitoes that swarm anything that moves.

Barbara, or "Babs" as she is usually called, grew up in New Orleans. An exceptionally beautiful woman, she had come to Texas five years before to start a restaurant and bar. She knew that her repertoire of recipes handed down from her French and Cajun grandmothers would bring in customers. She had been right, she had established a reputation for good food and a pleasant atmosphere in her restaurant.

Among others, a wealthy plantation owner, Charles Babineaux, had started to court her. She had been attracted to the local sheriff, Matthew Dixon, but he seemed willing to step back and let Babineaux carry the day.

Babs and Charles married, and she moved into his spacious plantation home at Green Oaks. Soon after, he, Dixon, and most of the other able bodied men went off to war, leaving her and Charles' sister in charge of the fields and the business. Babs felt subservient to her sister-in-law, Laura Babineaux. She was the newcomer, and was never totally at ease around Laura. She felt that everyone at Green Oaks saw her as an interloper, and she wasn't wild about them, either. Especially after Charles left.

Then, four months ago she received news that Babineaux was killed at a place called Chickamauga. Her sister-in-law had recently offered her five thousand dollars for her part of the plantation and Babs had decided to take it. With the uncertainty of the outcome of the war, the place could be worthless later and she had nothing to hold her in Texas. She found herself thinking about Matt Dixon occasionally but she knew she needed to get past that feeling and move on with her life.

She had decided to take her money and head for Arizona. It was a growing territory and it had not been so impacted by the war as East Texas was. It was time for Babs to make a fresh start.

***

It is May, 1865. Pierre Laffere is worried. He looks around his small farm in southwest Arkansas and sees the neglect in the fields. The crop would be short again this year. With money so tight these past two years, he and his son Lawrence had not been able to keep up the place as he should have and he was feeling his age. However, the rains had been adequate and his small truck farm provided the food they needed and even enough, on occasion, to barter with the neighbors. The problem was that, with all the men off to the war, his neighbors had struggled, too. Most of the people in this small corner of Arkansas did not have slaves and with no one to work, the fields were fallow. The war was affecting everyone.

God, he would be glad when it was over. Hopefully, everything could return to some type of normalcy. Maybe it would be soon, he was thinking. Bands of men, mostly Confederate soldiers, had been coming by, asking for food and trading news. The problem was that none of them knew anything, except the South was nearly beat, and it had been for a while. The last group said they had been captured by the Yankees and after being held all day, had been told to go home, that Lee had surrendered.

Laffere had sent his fourteen year old boy, Lawrence, out to hunt for deer that morning and also to run the trot lines. They put out the lines every night in the Sulphur River to catch the big catfish in the river and the fish were a big part of their daily diet. Deer and squirrels and an occasional coon provided them with high protein meat.

His twenty three year old daughter, Angeline, was inside, working in their modest log house which she kept spotless every day.

He knew Angeline was anxious. She was betrothed to their neighbor, John Combs, who owned the next farm over. When the war broke out, John knew that he would have to go, and insisted on postponing the wedding until after the war. He said that he didn't want to leave Angeline a widow, but who would have thought the war would last so long. Angeline had waited at the farm with no word from John for four years. Pierre did not know if John was still alive but, around Angie, he could not even speculate on that question. John's farm had also been neglected but there was nothing wrong with it that a lot of hard work wouldn't fix.

Laffere's attention was drawn to the six men coming across his field toward his house. He watched them as they came. They were still a distance away but he didn't like to take chances. He hollered to Angeline to stay in the house and picked up his old rifle, and waited.

The men kept coming but Laffere became even more anxious as he noticed the men were spreading out in a skirmish line. As they approached, he yelled, "Okay boys, that's far enough. What are you men after?"

The big man in the center laughed, but it was a mean laugh. He said, "What are we after? Well, I'll tell you, old man. We are after just about everything you got." As the man finished speaking he drew his revolver out and before Lafferre could respond, the man shot him in the chest.

Chapter One

May, 1865. Somewhere in Tennessee. Confederate States of America Cavalry Captain Matthew Dixon is a big man, thin from living on scant rations for a long time, but still an imposing figure. When he rose up in the saddle with his arm lifted, the men in the column of two's behind him pulled in their horses immediately. First Sergeant John Combs also raised his arm to signal the men behind him to stop.

Sergeant Combs pulled up beside the Captain and spoke, "What's the matter, Captain?"

Dixon pointed ahead down the road, "Can you see that dust boiling up and does it look like it's getting bigger to you, Sergeant?"

The Sergeant rose up on his horse and held his hand over his hat to better shade the sunlight from his eyes. "Yep, looks like a mounted force coming this way. Don't seem to be coming too hard, though, Captain. I guess we have to figure they're Yankees. We don't have any other cavalry in this area, least I haven't heard of any."

Captain Dixon looked back over his shoulder. He knew he had sixteen men mounted plus himself and Combs. They were all thin, some downright skinny, but they had proved over and over again that they would fight. These men were all that remained of his original company of ninety men. It had been a terrible war.

His voice was precise with command. "You take seven men and get in those trees to the right, and stay out of sight. I'll take the rest over to the left. If the unit coming toward us is a big unit, let them through. If they see you, take off and we'll rendezvous back at last night's camp. We'll do the same thing. If it's less than thirty men, we'll hit them from each side. Maybe they're carrying supplies. Let me make the first move, Sergeant."

The Sergeant turned back to the waiting troopers. "You men on the right follow me. The men on the left, follow the Captain. We have a Yankee force up ahead and we need to keep quiet. We don't know how many there are and we may let them pass."

The Confederate force wheeled into two ranks and deployed as Matt Dixon had ordered. Sergeant Paul Mueller pulled up behind Dixon to take Combs' place as the second in command. Nearly ten minutes later, the Yankees finally arrived. Dixon was surprised to see that it was only a squad of ten men with a young lieutenant in command. They were pulling two supply wagons down the road, which caused the dust to fly.

Matt Dixon spoke softly to Sergeant Mueller. "Paul, we may have just got lucky. I bet that's food and ammunition in that wagon." The two had been together for four years of very hard fighting and Matt trusted the young man completely.

The Sergeant replied, "Hope you're right, Captain. The boys can't go too much longer like this. Maybe we can get some information from these Yankees about the rumors we've been hearing about the war being over."

The Captain nodded his head affirmatively and spoke, "I know, let's hit 'em now!"

The Captain let out a loud rebel yell that was immediately repeated by everyone in his command and then by the men on the other side of the Yankee convoy. Both sides charged out, screaming, but before a shot was fired the Yankee Lieutenant said something to his color bearer and the flag was lowered. All the blue coated men sat on their horses, and lowered their weapons.

Matt charged up to the Lieutenant with his revolver drawn, aimed directly at the soldier and said, "Surrender your men, you have just been taken captive by the Confederacy."

The Lieutenant raised his arms but he was smiling. He said, "Beg your pardon, Sir, but there is no Confederacy. Lee surrendered the Army of Virginia at Appomattox over three weeks ago and the other confederate forces are quitting as soon as they get the word. My orders are to find remnants like yourself, give you the word, feed you, give you a day's rations, and tell you to go home."

Captain Dixon looked at the man for a full five seconds. Finally, he said, "Why should I believe you?"

The Lieutenant was still smiling when he replied, "Two reasons. The first is, I have orders in my pocket to this effect and if you'll let me, I'll show them to you. Then let's go about seeing to your men's needs. We'll celebrate together the end of this terrible nightmare we have all gone through."

"The other reason is that a full company of our cavalry will be coming down this same road within the next fifteen minutes, commanded by Captain Holt. He'll get here quicker if he hears firing. Captain Holt will not hurt you unless you fire on him because he has the same orders in his pocket that I do."

The Lieutenant continued, "Come on, Captain, it's been hard on both sides and it's time to stop the madness. Let me feed your men. If they're willing to sign a statement that they won't fight any more, they can take their weapons and their arms and go home. What the hell is the matter with that?"

Captain Dixon sat in his saddle for a second or two. Then he relaxed and told his men to order arms. "Sergeant Mueller, will you dismount and get those orders from the Lieutenant and let me read them." Matt took a few minutes to read the orders and decided they were legitimate. He handed them back to Paul Mueller and told him to give them back to the Lieutenant.

He then saluted the Lieutenant and said, "Sir, I would like a few moments with my men, then we'll return and be at your disposal."

The Lieutenant returned the salute with respect and said, "Certainly, Captain, and in the meantime, my men will begin preparing a meal. We would be proud to have you and your men join us, not as a celebration of victory but to the end of killing."

Dixon said, "Sergeant Combs, form the company in that field over there." He indicated an open space about a hundred yards away.

Combs saluted sharply and said, "Yes, sir!"

When the company was formed, Dixon told the men to dismount. He took off his hat and said, "Men, I formed this meeting at least one hundred yards from the Yanks because each of us individually has some decisions to make."

"That Yankee officer there has papers saying that Lee has surrendered and the war is over. According to those papers, it was done three weeks ago. I believe him, but you don't have to. The terms are that they are to feed us, and they'll let us keep our horses and our weapons if we individually sign a statement that we will not bear these arms against the Federal government. Then we all go back to our respective homes the best way we can."

"Now, for myself, I'm going to take the offer. We've all known for some time the South couldn't win so why should we kill people any more or risk being killed, for a lost cause? If any of you feel differently, you can get on your horse and take off in the opposite direction. I don't think they'll chase you because, quite frankly, they don't have to. As of now, I have no legal authority to order anything, but my suggestion is for us to eat with these men and then go home. I'm heading for Texas and if anyone wants to go that way, I would be pleased to ride with you as a friend, not as your commanding officer."

One man, twenty-two year old Sergeant Paul Mueller, a Texan of German descent, mounted his horse and started the other way. He galloped hard for about fifty yards and he stopped. He sat for a full minute, as if he were thinking, and then slowly turned his horse around and rode back to the men.

The Yankees fed the men well. At first, there was an undercurrent of animosity and distrust between the Confederates and the Yankees but as they were served the generous meal and ate together, the feeling seemed to decrease. The men started to talk together, the men of the Confederacy seemed to accept that it was all over and they started to figure out how they were going to go home. The Yankees' offer to let them keep their horses and arms helped to lessen the immediate sting of defeat. And their moods improved substantially with the first full stomachs they had felt in weeks. In fact, everyone laughed when a Union sergeant remarked that he wasn't too sure who won the damned war, the Rebs were getting to go home and he had to stay in the field for God knew how long.

Chapter Two

One week later, Matt Dixon, Paul Mueller, and John Combs were overlooking the bluffs of the Mississippi down into Memphis. It was obvious the war was over as grey clad men, some on horses but mostly on foot, were milling around in the streets of the city. The three men had teamed up together to travel to the west. Matt and Paul were going all the way back to Texas and John was going to his farm in western Arkansas near the community of Washington, Arkansas.

Before the war, Matt was the Sheriff of Sabine County in east Texas, and now knew that as an officer in the Confederacy, he could not hold that office again. But he would return to Milam because he knew that his friend Charles Babineaux had been killed at Chickamauga and Matt found himself thinking about his widow, Babs. He had been interested in Babs but Charles was a wealthy landowner and had acted before Matt had a chance. The girl had lingered in his mind and now he wanted to go back to make sure that she was all right. Beyond that, he wasn't sure what his future would hold.

Paul had grown up in the Hill Country of Texas where German settlers had started moving in the 1840's. Most of these immigrants had remained loyal to the Union. Paul had a huge disagreement with his folks over his decision to join the Confederacy. The Confederacy or the issue of slavery had not meant so much to Paul, but when his home state joined the South, he joined the cavalry as a Texan. He left home as a hot headed youth of eighteen, excited at the thought of riding into battle against the cowardly Yankees to the sounds of the bugles blowing.

John was a farmer in Arkansas and was anxious to get home. He was engaged to a girl at the outbreak of the war and had not seen or heard from her in over four years. When he rode off they both thought the war would not last and he would be home in a year at the most.

By the time the unit fought at the battle of Chickamauga, all three men had realized what war really was about. The hardships of thin rations, empty stomachs, living in the saddle, sleeping on the ground, and having to be ready to ride many miles and attack superior forces as part of Jeb Stuart's cavalry had grown old quickly. The bugles had stopped blowing. They had seen and lived war for what it was. Killing and having friends killed. Their original company numbers had shrunk from ninety men down to nearly nothing and there had not been replacements. Not many men in the South had horses so enlistments had become non-existent.

Paul glanced at his companions. Matt Dixon had been a good commander and as the months and years wore on, the differences between rank had gradually disappeared except under battle conditions where Matt was unconditionally the leader. When Paul looked at the man he realized that even without the officer's rank, Matt would have probably still been the boss. For one thing he was a little older than most of them and more level headed. He was a big, physically imposing man, and he had been a sheriff before the war. The main thing, though, was that he never used his rank to take more than his equal share of whatever rations were available. Paul now realized that he thought of the man more as a friend that he had been through hell with than anything else.

John Combs was something else. He was only a little younger than the Captain and he was better educated than most of the men in the troop. His education and his ability to handle the administrative part of the company's business had made him a natural to function as the First Sergeant when the company was formed. When the fighting started, he proved he was much more than that and was also a natural leader of men. He didn't talk as much as many of the men but when he spoke, men listened and that included the officers. Paul thought that he would miss both men and would always consider them friends.

Since starting home they had existed by shooting game, sharing and trading some of it with the residents of the small farms they passed while traveling through the hills and forests of western Tennessee.

Matt turned to the other two and said, "Well, there is Memphis, we'll see lots of Yankees and displaced soldiers there. Might be able to find some day work for food but as for me, I would just as soon get on through and head for Little Rock. But you boys get a vote if you want to stop for a day or two."

Paul said, "I'm with you, Captain. Wouldn't mind seeing if I could trade out of this uniform for some civilian clothes, though. I want to put this war behind me as quick as I can."

Matt laughed, "Good idea, let's go."

The three men rode down the bluff and into the city. Ex-confederate soldiers were milling around all over the streets. Paul figured it was going to be very difficult to find any type of work at all. After traveling about four blocks into the town, they saw a large building with a "General Store" sign on the front. With just a glance at each other, the three men pulled up their horses to the hitching post and started to tie the horses.

A Union sergeant walking by noticed them. He said, "Hey boys, if I was you, I wouldn't leave those horses there unattended. They likely won't be there when you get back. This city is full of men trying to get home and horse stealing happens every day."

Matt said, "Thank you, Sergeant. We'll heed your advice. John, why don't you go on in and see what you can find. Paul and I'll watch the horses until you come back."

John handed the reins of his horse to Paul and said, "Matt, I'll hurry and if I can do any good, it will be you boys' turn."

John entered the store and was amazed at the availability of clothes. A lot of the stock was new but John saw that the store also had a selection of used clothes which, he guessed, people must have traded during the war. He saw what he assumed to be the store owner or the manager overseeing the shopping and sales people and walked directly up to him.

John smiled and spoke, "Excuse me, Sir. My name is John Combs. I have two friends holding our horses out front. Obviously we are, make that 'were', confederate soldiers. One of the guys outside was my captain, the other is a young sergeant. We don't have anything but confederate money and we know it's worthless. Question is, would you be willing to trade some used clothes for what we have on? We know it's asking a lot but we decided we might as well give it a try."

The man just looked at John for a second, focusing on the cavalry insignia pinned on John's collar, and then smiled, "You boys tried a lot over the last few years and I lost a boy in Stuart's cavalry. If I trade with you, would you boys be willing to paint my building? I've got the paint. Might take a couple days but the work comes with meals and some of these used clothes."

"I will for damn sure," John said, "but let me talk to my partners, be right back."

Two days later the three were in civilian clothes, their bellies full and they were on their way through Arkansas. The first day out they had traveled about twenty miles from Memphis when Matt raised up his hand, signaling a halt. Matt said, "Guys, I'm not giving orders but it will be dark soon and I've been thinking that maybe we ought to get off from this main trail before we make camp. What do you guys think?"

Paul waited for John to speak but John didn't usually talk until he had to. Paul then said, "Don't matter to me but what's your concern, Captain?"

Matt said, "There are too many men traveling along here. Ninety percent of 'em are just wanting to get home as soon as they can. However, some of 'em might be tempted to make a try for our horses and I'd just as soon sleep easy tonight. I'm thinking if we get away from this main road a ways, it might make it easier to rest tonight."

John finally spoke. "Sounds like good thinking to me and I still think we ought to take turns guarding. All of these men have been too used to killing the last few years and there's no sense tempting anyone."

Paul just grinned and said, "Well, it's obvious why you fellers had the rank. Never entered my mind but it does make sense. Lead the way, Captain."

Matt turned his horse into the woods off the road and the other two followed behind. They had to fight their way through the brushy undergrowth. It was getting dark and the sunlight that was left had to force its way down through the tall trees. Matt continued on for a full half hour but when he came to a small stream, he held up his hand.

Matt said, "Bet there's some fish in that stream. John, why don't you see if you can catch a few perch like you always did and Paul and I can get a fire started."

Paul laughed to himself as, without saying a word, John dismounted, reached back into his saddle bag and brought out his fishing line and hook. That fishing line had fed them more than once over the past few months. John's upbringing in Arkansas had served them well to survive in the woods.

"Don't wait on me", John called out. "I'll have your dinner cleaned and ready to cook before you can get that fire going."

Paul and Matt quickly got the fire started and, true to his word, John prepared a good fish supper. The men ate quickly and took their bedrolls off their horses.

Matt said, "Okay, men, let's split it up and leave one of us on guard all night. My suggestion is that the guard should stay out of sight in case somebody wants to sneak up on us. I don't care which shift I get. You fellas decide."

Paul had taken the middle shift and was sitting outside the firelight, hidden in the darkness. The few stars he could see through the trees reminded him of the beautiful sky in Central Texas. He'd not had much time to think about home during the war but now that he was on the way, he had started to remember more.

He was startled when he heard a horse whinnying on the other side of the camp. A muffled voice said, "Quiet, horse." Paul tried harder to listen and heard what seemed to be several horses walking toward the camp. He knew he didn't have a chance to wake Matt and John, so he stayed in the dark, rifle and pistol ready. He had one shot in each gun.

He watched silently as four men crept into the camp. Paul thought, they must have left their horses tied somewhere behind them, and he knew for sure they were up to no good.

One of the men walked up to Matt's sleeping form while another did the same to John.

The first man nudged Matt with his boot while the other kicked John. Both Matt and John were awake and up on their feet instantly. As he rose Matt saw the four men and moved to his right, away from John. John realized what was happening and took a quick step to his left.

The one who Paul guessed was the leader of the intruders, spoke quickly. "Just hold on a minute, boys," he said. "No one has to get hurt here. All we want is your horses, your guns, and any supplies you got and we will be on our way. No sense in you boys getting shot, is there?"

Before either Matt or John could answer, Paul spoke from the darkness of the woods. He said, "Maybe there is a reason for some folks to get shot. My problem is I'm going to kill two of you boys instantly. You with the big mouth will get it first but I haven't decided who to take next. You got any ideas Captain?"

Matt said, "For God's sake, Sergeant, don't kill anyone yet. You killed those men last night before they even had a chance to talk."

John picked up on what the Captain was doing and chimed in. "Don't shoot, Paul, the killing has to stop sometime." Then he spoke in a low voice to the men at the campfire. "Don't do anything to tempt him, fellers. The war changed him and he ain't quite right in the head, if you get my drift. He don't think about odds, he just likes to kill folks."

Paul came back with, "Captain, two of 'em is as good as dead right now. I got a dead bead on 'em and I can't miss from here."

Matt looked at the leader of the men. The man had a wild look in his eyes as he continually turned, trying to see where the voice was coming from. The man said, "Can't you control that man? Nobody needs to die here."

Matt spoke very low, "Didn't you hear what the First Sergeant here said. The war has made the boy a little loose upstairs. I'm his Captain and John here is his First Sergeant and unfortunately, it don't make any difference to him. If he takes a notion to shoot you, there ain't nothing John and I can do about it."

Paul was giggling in the woods and that didn't help the emotional stability of the four men. The leader said, "Hey, mister, we was just funnin' you men. We're all on the same side and all we want is to share a little coffee with you boys. This thing kind of got off on the wrong foot."

Paul stopped laughing and his voice got very hard. "You heard the Captain and the First Sergeant say I was a little light on the thinking part. I get a headache when I try too hard and it's starting to come on now. The only thing that's going to save you fellers' life is to hand over those weapons to Matt and John there. Then we can talk about coffee and sharing supplies like brothers in arms is supposed to."

The man sputtered, "We can't give you our guns. These pistols are the new colt 44 revolvers we took off some Yankee cavalry. Same thing with the new Henry repeating rifles."

Paul said in a very serious voice. "See, there ain't no solution except for me to kill these first two and we take our chances against the other two. I know I can kill the first two and then the three of us should make short work out of the other two. You are a big old boy, Captain, and Sergeant John is a master with that big bowie knife he hides behind his back. Hell, we've wasted half the night, let me go ahead and kill the talker and then the others might be willin' to reason and trade their guns for their lives and then if we want to be neighborly, we could fix em up a pot of coffee, I suppose. Just to show em there is no hard feelings."

Paul clicked the hammer back on the rifle and the silence was ominous as all the men waited to see what the crazed man was going to do. The whole thing was surreal as Paul had played his part to perfection. The intruders thought they had a lunatic with weapons drawn down on them and while they knew it was ridiculous, it was real and someone could die any minute without them knowing where the shot came from. Matt, as the oldest, took charge as Paul and John knew he would

Matt said, "Boys, the time for killing is over. It has to stop right now. I have to be honest with you fellers That fellow has been through hell the last four years and is only twenty two years old but he's seen way too much. He's seen his friends die, and had to kill some Yankee soldiers as part of the job, and he did it well. But now he is going home and his nerves are shot, just like a lot of ours are, except that he's younger and anything that he perceives as slowing him down is a major problem. This situation falls into that category, so I can only see one solution. You men drop your arms immediately and surrender. We'll fix breakfast and feed you at least equal to what we eat. Then we are going to trade guns. We need those Colt revolvers the Yankee cavalry had, and we want three of the Henry repeating rifles."

The leader of the intruders laughed a cruel laugh and said, "Why should we do that? You guys get the best of the trade and we outnumber you." Matt shook his head in disgust and said, "You are forgetting something important, Mister. You make this trade and you get to live." Matt turned to the woods and said, "Show him, Paul, but try not to kill him,"

Instantly a rifle boomed and the leader hit the ground screaming. He had his hand where his ear had been before. It was a bloody mess. Matt walked over quickly to keep the man from trying to retaliate and to get something on the ear to stem the bleeding. The other three men had seen enough and dropped their weapons. John and Matt quickly secured them but Paul stayed out in the dark in case any other surprises decided to drop in unexpectedly on their camp.

Matt and John quickly grabbed the intruders' weapons and held them by the fire in the light.

Each of them grabbed a forty-four pistol for their personal use and a repeating rifle. Matt picked up the other pistol and rifle for Paul and as he admired the guns, said, "No wonder the Yankees won the war. Let's take all the ammunition and we'll sell this other pistol and rifle and our weapons to get us some traveling money. We'll take their horses and saddles and that should bring enough to get us home."

The other men protested but Matt just laughed and said, "You boys made a big mistake. You should have thought of this before you interrupted our sleep and you ain't heard the worst of it yet. Start shucking those duds and your boots. You'll be alive but you're going to have a problem or two. It could be worse, it could be snowing."

Chapter Three

Angelina Laffere had fallen in love with her tall, strong, dark haired neighbor, John Combs, when she was twelve years old. As a child she found reasons to walk along the fence line separating her father's farm from the Combs place, hoping for a chance to see John as he walked along with the plow. The first time she knew that John noticed her was on a Sunday in April when she was fifteen, at a church picnic. He winked at her, which made her blush, and she would always remember how handsome he looked that day.

Angie was only eight when her mother was lost, giving birth to her younger brother. She and her father had raised the little boy together, and had formed a bond closer than most fathers and daughters would know. The family was protective and close, and Angie was like a little mother to the men in her house. Lawrence had turned into a handsome, quiet, respectful young man and she couldn't be more proud of him.

Her life was good in every way except the huge void she felt as she missed John. Four years ago when she was eighteen she and John were so in love, sure of their future. She was proud of the fact that he had more education than most of the men of the area. At the age of seventeen he was away to school in Shreveport when his parents had died, and he had returned to the farm.

They had planned the wedding in their community church, and Angie was looking forward to moving into the little cabin on John's farm, which would be within sight of her father's and Lawrence's house and she would be able to take care of both. Then, before the wedding, John came over to talk one day. He knew that war was coming and he would be leaving to fight, and he said that he had thought about it a lot. He did not want her to be left a widow. Angie cried hysterically on his shoulder. The thought of losing him was more than she could stand. She knew she wasn't the only girl who was facing such a nightmare. This horrible war had intruded on every life in the country. For Angie, it meant that John was taken from her.

He rode off one morning when a tall Texan soldier came by the farm with a company of cavalry recruits and John willingly left with them. As he packed his gear, he told her that the Captain he was going with had said that no one thought the war would last long; he intended to be back in time to start the spring plowing. He told her to be strong, to pray for all the soldiers, and to take care of her little brother and her dad.

Before he left John had started to train a new filly he bought from a neighbor. A pretty little gray with a star on her forehead. He led her out to Angie, and as he rode away with the band of soldiers, tall in the saddle, she stood beside the road, holding onto the horse and crying into its neck.

That was four years ago, Lawrence was now fourteen, Angie twenty-two. She had not heard from John in that time and sometimes she felt it was all a dream...It was hard to remember how things were when he was home. In her heart, she still felt that one day she would see him riding up to the yard. She imagined what that reunion would be like, when he would pick her up and swing her around and around.

In the meantime, the work of the farm went on. Angie was a good housekeeper and was a help to her father and Lawrence. Their truck farm required back breaking labor and constant attention. Her father needed more help than his children could provide but with every man and boy over sixteen away, he was barely able to keep the farm going. All their neighbors were in the same situation, so all farms were not well kept and tidy as they could be with enough workers. They were just thankful that the Yankees had not come through and burned everything.

Lately, bands of men had been coming through more ragged and she had heard rumors that the war was ended and the South had lost. A few times her dad had told her to hide in the house.

This morning, Lawrence went out to shoot a deer and run the trot lines he and their dad had set in the Sulphur River that ran a couple of miles south of their place. The catfish they pulled out of the river was a welcome addition to the mostly venison and squirrel that had been their meat staple the past few years.

She was in the house when she heard her father shout something to her. She went to the door and saw him, motioning her back into the house. Her eyes cut to the field he had turned back to look at and a sense of dread engulfed her. Six men were spread out about six feet apart and they were advancing across the field straight toward their house. They all had rifles at the ready, like they were going to assault the place or something. She looked out the corner of one window and watched as her dad strode out to meet them. He must have said something because one of the soldiers drew his pistol and shot her father in the chest. She watched in horror as her dad spun half way around and then crumpled to the ground.

"Daddy," she shrieked, and ran out to bend over him. He was breathing but it was very labored and he was unconscious. She picked up his rifle and ran as fast as she could back around the house and started over to John Combs' cabin, trying to keep their house between her and the attackers. She instinctively knew there was nothing she could do for her dad. She figured she was a goner, too. Her only hope was to get out of sight, and then try to circle around and find Lawrence, and keep him from being hurt.

Angeline was a farm girl and she could run fast but she didn't quite make it. She heard the men talking loudly as they rounded her house. One of the men yelled and she knew she had been spotted. She wheeled suddenly, drew her dad's rifle to her shoulder, and snapped off a shot at her pursuers. One of them screamed and went down with a shot in his leg. The others instinctively hit the ground for a few seconds before they realized she had no more ammunition. That bought her some time, and she was able to get around the corner of John's house and out of their sight.

She stopped behind the house to catch her breath. In a frantic state, she thought wildly for a place to hide. She could hear their shouts coming closer across the field and it came to her, John had a cellar behind the back porch. She ran around the side and found the old door, half buried in the ground. Scratching around the edge she found a way to lift it and scrambled down the rough steps, pulling the door closed. In the pitch blackness, she crouched down, pulled a spider web away from her face, and tried to breathe.

***

"Caleb, Git back here! Seth's been shot in the leg and it's bleeding something fierce. We can't just leave him here."

"Caleb said, "Damnation, Saul. Cain't you take care of your own brother? This gal is going to get away and she saw me plug the old man. 'Sides that, we could use a little shemale company."

"I don't care, we ain't leaving Seth. We can track her later. Come back here and help me git him in the house."

Caleb hollered, "Jeremiah, Daniel, Lucas, take a quick look around and get back here and give us some help. That damn girl shot Seth. I can't believe it after all we've been through some little thing like that got him right in front of us."

The three he was calling came back across the field from John's house. They half carried, half dragged the wounded man up the steps of the porch to the front room.

By moving him they caused the leg to bleed even more and Seth was losing consciousness. He was still moaning but at least had stopped screaming.

Caleb looked at the leg and said, "Look, it went in and came out. There's two holes, pretty clean. Your brother's damn lucky, Saul. The bullet went through the flesh only and missed all the bones. When it stops bleeding, he'll be good as new. We're gonna fix him a walking stick and wrap this up tight so it won't bleed. Saul, find a good stick outside while you, Jeremiah, clean the leg and wrap it up good."

"You two get him up and moving. We need to get on down the road. Go on west toward Texas the same way we were headed when we found this place. Take that loaf of bread and I saw a ring of sausage in the cabinet. You won't get far with him, we'll catch up to you before dark."

"Daniel and Lucas and I are going to try to catch the girl. Wouldn't all of us like to have that around for a while. Get on with it now, leave the old man out there and go on."

Caleb said, "Come on, Lucas, and you too, Daniel. We saw her head for that house. It shouldn't be too hard to track her into those woods."

The three spent a good two hours looking for tracks of the girl with no luck. Caleb finally called off the search. He started thinking that the girl might find the law or some other men and they had best be clearing out of the country. They were heading for East Texas and he figured they were still two, maybe three days out and he wanted to catch up to the other men before dark.

***

Fourteen year old Lawrence Laffere was struggling. He had the young doe swung up on the back of the little gray mare he called Bandy. Bandy belonged to John Combs but he and his sis had been taking care of the horse for four years so they thought of her as part of the family. The reason he was struggling was that he had three catfish that had to weigh three pounds apiece and he had them strung over a pole to keep them away from the horse. Eating was going to be pretty good at their house tonight.

He came out into the clearing but did not see his father in the field and there was no sign of his sister either. A cloud of uneasiness swept over him when neither his father nor his sister called out to him as was their custom. He spurred the little horse to pick up the pace, and then he saw his father lying awkwardly in the yard. At first he thought his dad had just fallen and he screamed for Angie. He wondered if she might be in the house and didn't realize their dad was down. That hope disappeared when he got closer and saw the blood on the ground beside his dad.

He dismounted at a run and fell to his knees over his father. He lifted his dad's head and he opened his eyes and gasped, "Six men, shot me. Angie ran, don't know if she made it." And he died right there in Lawrence's arms.

Lawrence's head fell down onto his father's face and he held him tightly. He wailed, and tears washed down his cheeks. He laid his father's head back gently. He jumped up and ran screaming into the house. "Angie, Angie, where are you?" He saw the disarray and dirt that had been tracked onto her normally clean floors and knew the intruders had been there. In addition, there was blood on the floor and on the bed cover in the front room. There was no food left in his house and his father's rifle was missing. His dad normally kept it close by his side. He figured maybe the intruders had taken it with them. They must have taken Angie and this left him no choice, he had to go after them.

As he was running down the porch steps, he heard horses riding around the barn. He ran to the yard and saw three men pull to a stop. One of them looked familiar; he dismounted and raced over to Lawrence's dad. In a moment Lawrence realized it was their neighbor, John Combs, Angie's sweetheart who he'd not seen since he was ten years old, and two other men. He ran out the door and hollered, "John, somebody come in and Daddy's dead and Angie's missing. I was out hunting and daddy was down but he was alive when I got here. He said there were six of them. We've got to catch them and find Angie!" He was stammering and almost incoherent, sobbing hysterically, but John caught him in his arms and held him.

***

She pulled the old door down above her head, praying to God, terrified that the men had not seen the door as it closed. The old cellar steps were steep and she fell backward, landing on her side on the dirt floor. She scrambled and crawled back to a corner. Her face was covered with cobwebs that hung from ceiling to the floor. The pitch darkness gave her a feeling of being hidden from sight but also added to her fright. She cowered in the corner and wiped the spider webs from her eyes.

The men were up there. She could hear them. She prayed, "Please, God, don't let them see this cellar." She listened harder and heard nothing. They must have moved away. The only sound was her own heavy breathing, and she tried to will herself to stop making any noise at all. At any moment the door could open and she had nowhere else to hide. The minutes went by slowly, darkness and silence. She lost track of time and did not know if she had been there five minutes or five hours. Her legs were cramped from crouching down, so she stretched them out and sat with her back against the rock wall of the cellar.

After a while, she was beginning to calm down a bit, and thinking that the men were gone. Suddenly she heard a small noise and terror gripped her again when she realized she was not alone in the room. There was something on the floor. She froze; her first thought was that it was a rat or a spider. Then, she heard the rattle.

The snake hit the top of her foot and she felt an instant burning, stinging sensation. She screamed.

Chapter Four

Matt and Paul had quickly seen what had happened and dismounted as John ran to the dead man. They stood silently, holding the horses as the boy stumbled out of the house and ran to John. John gathered the boy into his arms and held him while he told what he'd found in the last few minutes before they rode up.

John had been so happy that morning as they rode to the farm. He had pushed his friends along the trail, anxious to be back to his girl, Angie. But now, instead of the wonderful reunion with her that he'd imagined, he had ridden into the worst nightmare.

"Hold on, boy," he said. "Slow down, and let's take just a minute, Lawrence. Did you see anybody? Did you see them take Angie? What else did your daddy say, and when did you find him?"

"I found him about a half hour ago when I got back. He died just while I was holding him. He said there were six of them and Angie was running but he didn't know if she made it. That's all he said and then he died." The boy was crying too hard to talk more. John sat down with him on the steps of the porch with an arm around his shoulders, and looked at Matt.

"What do you think we should do, Captain?"

Matt said, "If she ran to get away from them, she'd go toward those woods or to that cabin over there, for cover."

"That's my house." John said, "Would you and Paul consider starting to dig the grave over by the oak tree there to the east of the house, where Angie's mother is buried. Lawrence and I'll go over to my place and look around. If we don't find anything we'll be back to help and decide where to go next."

John's calmness, his quiet demeanor as he took the lead in the situation, was striking to Matt, and had the effect of settling Lawrence. The boy said, "Here's your pony, you remember her, don't you, John? I call her Bandy and she's broke in real good."

John said, "She's your pony now, Lawrence, and it's good to see that you've taken fine care of her."

Lawrence went over to the barn and found a shovel. He handed it to Matt, and he and John mounted their horses.

They took the horses at a long trot across the fields to his old home place. They did not find tracks in the hard ground and John had already determined the men they were after were not on horses. He knew they could not have gone too far. There was a stand of trees beyond his house that he hoped Angie had run into but he stopped first to take a quick look around the house. The windows were boarded up. But he pushed open the door and saw that the room inside had been swept and the house had been kept. He suspected Angie had been caring for the place while he was gone. Around the house, weeds and brambles and sumac bushes had grown into a thicket. Angie could have hidden but he thought that, if she were there, by now she would have come out when she heard his and Lawrence's voices.

John started to leave, going back to her house, when he heard a terrifying scream. He wheeled around, told Lawrence, "Be quiet, be quiet, where did that come from?"

Lawrence said, "I don't know, but that was Angie, somewhere here around the house."

Suddenly, John remembered the old cellar he and his dad had put in behind the house. His mother had a horror of tornadoes and she needed a place to store fruits and vegetables. He had not noticed the wooden door on the ground as it had been covered over with grass and weeds. He raced over and found the old door and as he pulled it up, could tell that it had been recently opened. He yelled, "Angie, are you in there?"

John pulled back the plank and looking down into total darkness, did not see Angie. He thought he saw a movement in the corner of the cellar under the door. He started carefully down the steps which were rotted and falling, and as his eyes adjusted to the poor light filtering from the opening, saw a very large timber rattler, coiled and ready to strike, back in the corner of the shelter. He instinctively grabbed his pistol but didn't want to shoot the thing in a closed space. He took dead aim at the snake's head and blew it off. The noise was deafening and his ears rang.

He heard the moan before he saw her. She was cringed in the far corner of the cellar, trying to stay as far away from him as she could. She was obviously terrified.

"Angie, Angie, it's me, John."

In a frantic voice, she said, "He bit me!" and she fainted dead away.

"Lawrence, help me!" John hollered. "I've found her. Help me get her out of here. She's been bit by a rattler and she's unconscious."

John picked her up in his arms and carried her to the steps. She was dead weight and though she was small, a petite girl, he struggled to get her to the top. Lawrence went down and brought the snake out. When he held it up it was taller than he was.

John saw the two red puncture marks on the top of her foot. "It's here on her foot. Let me have your belt, Lawrence, I need a tourniquet. Then I've got to cut her foot and suck as much of that poison out as I can. And I've got to be quick about it!"

Lawrence handed him the belt, and John tied it around her thigh. He took his pocket knife out, grabbed her foot and quickly cut a deep X on the marks. He bent down, sucked the blood and poison and spit it out. He did this for a full three minutes.

John then said, "We've got to get her back to the house. She's gonna be sick for a while. Hold her, I'll get on my horse and you can hand her to me."

Lawrence picked her up carefully and handed her up to John. He cradled her in his arms and they rode slowly back to the house. Lawrence rode ahead of John, to tell Matt and Paul that they had found Angie and she had been snake bit by a big timber rattler, and was unconscious.

Paul dropped the shovel as John and Angie rode into the yard. Matt was there to take Angie from John, and started up the steps into the house. He said, "We've got to keep her elevated so that leg is below her; we don't want that poison to move up into her body. Lawrence, you and Paul find something to put under the feet of the headboard so her head is elevated."

Having something to do was a good thing for Lawrence. He had encountered too much too fast and needed this time to settle his mind.

John said, "Lawrence, do you know where the nearest doctor is?"

Lawrence said, "We don't have a real doctor but we have a lady over near Washington that folks use around here. She's done some studying, I guess."

John said, "Get on Bandy and go get her. We'll be here when you get back, and we'll tend to your Daddy. Go, boy."

***

Lawrence was not sure what he should do, but he trusted John. He didn't want to leave his Dad, he couldn't believe he was dead but he knew there was nothing he could do for him. Angie needed help or she could die, and he would lose them both.

He mounted Bandy and set off on the trail to Washington. He needed to get to Nannie Farr and get her back to Angie. It would be dark pretty soon so he had to keep moving. The five or six miles to town and back would take at least an hour or more. And he wasn't sure he would find Nannie. He thought he knew where her cabin was but also knew that she moved around sometimes.

He turned off the trail, thinking it was the right way to her little cabin. He knew that he had guessed right when he saw the lantern light from her room in the clearing off the road. He drew up to the porch and her door opened. He hollered, "Nannie Farr, it's Lawrence Laffere. I've come for help. My dad's been shot by bushwhackers that came by and he's dead. Angie ran away from them and hid in a cellar but she's been bit by a big timber rattler and her leg is swole up somethin' fierce. I came to get you so you could go and help her."

"My, Lawrence, I guess I can. Give me a little minute to get my stuff."

Lawrence knew that Nannie Farr had many folk remedies and cures for almost any ailment. She was always at the birthing of babies and had set many broken bones. He didn't know if she knew about snake bites, but there was no one else to turn to. There was no doctor within fifty miles at the next larger town.

When she came out the door with her bag, he dismounted and put her up on the horse. He handed her the bag and remounted the saddle. "It's a good thing you're such a little bitty thing, Nannie. I'm pretty sure Bandy can take us both out there."

"You just go, young man, the sooner we get to her the better."

Nannie held to Lawrence's belt with the bag in front of her and he had Bandy in a lope. It was rough riding but they made good time and were back to the house before daylight was totally gone.

Lawrence swung his leg over and when he hit the ground, he lifted Miss Farr off the horse and watched her hurry into the house.

"Where's the girl?" he heard her say as she went up the steps. John met her at the door, and moved aside as she bustled into the room as if she owned it. The men stood to the side without speaking as she walked quickly over to Angelina.

"I'm here, sweet girl, don't you worry none, Nannie's gonna take care of you."

Angie moaned but was not conscious. Her leg was dark red and swollen to nearly twice its normal size. She was moving on the bed as though she were in pain.

Nannie turned to John who was standing in the corner at the foot of the bed. "John Combs, is that you? I remember you left to go to that war a long time ago. Don't you just be standing there, get me some hot water. I'll make us a poultice to draw out this poison. I'm sure hoping you knew how to suck out as much of it as you could. Did you?"

John looked at her, this tiny lady with her hands on her hips, and replied, "Yes, Ma'am, I sucked on it for nearly three minutes or so. I had a tourniquet on it and we've kept her elevated so her leg was down lower."

Nannie said, "Good. Now, get me that water. We'll get the poultice on her and maybe it'll get some more out."

John asked, "Is she gonna be okay, Nannie?"

She looked at him and said, "Only the Lord knows for sure. People don't usually die from snake bites. But she's gonna be a mighty sick girl for a few days. It's a good thing you brought me out here."

They mixed the herbs and clay she had brought in her bag with boiling water into a mixture and packed it around the wound, tied with a hot towel. Nannie mixed another herb with water and with John's help, held it to Angie's mouth and poured it down her throat. "This is gonna help her to sleep and be still," Nannie said, and they left the girl in the bed.

She stepped out to the porch where the three men and Lawrence were sitting, waiting, and said, "Lawrence told me that some men came by and killed his dad. Three other places have been hit in the last two days around Washington. It sounds like we got some rabid dogs loose on the countryside."

Matt said, "Yeah, we ran into some problems ourselves just outside of Memphis. There are bands of men all over this country, trying to get home, and most of them are good men but not all."

Nannie looked up at John and said, "Somebody has to stay here and take care of the girl. You've got to keep this poultice on the leg, and she'll have bad fevers before it's over. I can't stay out here, there's other folks need me."

John said, "We'll take care of her, Nannie, thank you. Why don't you ride my horse and let Lawrence take you home. We'll make sure she's cared for, and we won't leave her."

"Lawrence, I want you to take Nannie home. Use my horse, Bandy's worn out. At first light tomorrow I'll be going after those men. We're not gonna let them get away."

Matt spoke up, "No, we're not gonna let them get away. But you're not going. You need to stay here and take care of your girl until she's all right. Paul and I will trail them and you can catch up with us when you can. We'll make it easy for you to follow."

John started to argue but caught himself. He couldn't leave Angie as she was, and he knew that Lawrence would need help, too. He had seen his father dead and his sister unconscious within a few hours, and he was in a near state of shock.

He said, "Thank you, Captain. You can rest assured I'll catch up as quick as I can. Somebody is gonna pay."

Chapter Five

The next morning dawned clear and with a sunrise over his shoulder, Paul led a brief service at the burial site of Mr. Laffere. John and Lawrence had stayed in the house near Angie's bed until a few minutes before Paul called them out to the gravesite. John wished that there were something he could do to comfort Lawrence, but words were not enough for the boy. John saw that Lawrence tried to hide his tears, but finally the boy broke down and sobbed against John's chest.

John said, "It's okay, son. You know your mom and dad are in a better place and they're together. Now it's your and my job to take care of Angie and make sure the men who did this are punished."

Lawrence wiped his eyes and said, "But if only I had come back sooner."

John let it go, there was nothing else to say, and the men replaced their hats on their heads and straightened up the mound over the graves.

Matt said, "John, I hate to leave you like this, but Paul and I need to be leaving. We'll mark a trail every mile by a broken branch and you follow us when you can. It looks like they're headed southwest and we'll probably stop at Springer. See if they've been through there."

John said, "I'll catch you as soon as I know Angelina is okay."

Lawrence spoke up, "I want to go, too."

John said, "No, your place is here with your sister. She's gonna need you for a while. Matt, you and Paul better get going,"

Matt and Paul had made cornbread and had some coffee and bacon wrapped in their bedrolls. They knew they would be on the trail for two or three nights and could find enough game to last until they reached Springer.

They rode away from the yard and John turned into the house to check on Angie. As he walked to her bed, she blinked her eyes and seemed to come awake. He knelt beside her and as she looked at him he saw fear in her eyes.

"Are you one of those.....", she said with a stammer in a weak voice. She tried to raise her head and seemed to want to move away.

"Honey, it's John. You're okay now. The men have gone, and Lawrence and I are here."

"What about Daddy?" Angie seemed to be stronger than a few minutes ago. "I think they shot my Daddy!"

John saw that she was on the edge of hysteria, and reached down to hold her closer. "Angie, darlin', Lawrence is okay, and I'm here with both of you." He would have to tell her, but was trying to soothe and calm her so that he could talk to her.

"Those men killed your father, Angie, and I am so sorry. Your daddy did his best but they came too quick before he was ready. Lawrence was here before he died and was able to hear him say that you had run. We found you over at my old house. You had gotten into the cellar to hide from them but a snake bit you. We got Nannie Farr over here and she took care of you, and you're gonna be all right. The swelling's going down in your leg."

Angie began to cry softly. "John, I waited so long for you. Hold me, John, hold me like you'll never let me go."

John said, "I will, Sweetheart, I always will. I'm back and now everything is going to be okay."

Lawrence stood at the door and watched as John held Angie until she stopped crying. He laid her down on the pillow and she seemed to drift back to sleep.

John turned to see that Lawrence had come in and said, "I think she's taken a turn to the better. Her fever's breaking, and she's talking. We'll keep her quiet and still, but I think she's gonna make it through, thank God."

Lawrence had held his emotions at bay and was exhausted from the happenings of the last two days. He crumpled to the floor and held his head in his hands, sobbing. John moved over to him, and said, "I know this has been hard. We don't always know why bad things happen, but now we've got to go on. You're a strong young man and you've got to finish what your dad started with this place."

Lawrence got up, sat at the table and said, "Aren't you gonna be here, John?"

John replied, "Of course, I am. Angie and I'll be living right next door. And you can stay with us as long as you want. As soon as she's better, though, I've got to go get the men who killed your dad. Those men that were with me are my best friends and they're tracking them now, but it's my job. You'll be able to take care of Angie till I get back."

**

Paul and Matt picked up the trail of the men and noted they were headed due south toward Springer, Louisiana. Mr. Laffere had told Lawrence that there were six men on foot, and unless they had obtained horses along the way, Paul thought, they should be gaining on them. But they had at least a day's head start and he didn't know if they had traveled through the night.

Paul mentioned to Matt as they rode that he was anxious to see his parents in Texas, west of Austin. They were first generation German immigrants and had remained loyal to the Union. Paul said, "It was very strained when I left to join the Confederacy, and I've worried about that ever since. The neighbors were mostly sympathetic to the South and I just hope my folks are okay."

Matt said, "I don't know if I told you guys but I was the sheriff of Sabine County, but now I understand that since I was a Confederate officer, not only can I not hold office but I can't even vote for two years. I am going to check on a couple of old friends and then I may head on out to Arizona. If I'm gonna start over I might as well do it in a new territory."

Paul said , "Look, there's a farm over there. Why don't we check to see if they've seen anybody."

The small dogtrot cabin and well built barn seemed to appear normal and nothing seemed out of place. The log cabin was built with two separate rooms connected by a covered overhang, called a dogtrot. The field was being prepared for planting, much as Mr. Laffere's place had looked.

As they moved closer, they stopped their horses when they saw two forms on the ground to the side of the house. Matt said, "Looks like we may be too late. Our friends have already been here."

Paul said, "Well, we have to check it out. You get the house and I'll get the barn."

They drew their guns and rode slowly forward, on alert for movement or sound.

Matt dismounted, moved to the single window at the front of the cabin, and looked inside. He could see no one in the first room, so he stood in the shadow of the dogtrot and waited a minute. He moved to the doorway to the second room and listened, still hearing no sound. He cocked his pistol and with the other hand, swung the door open. His eyes adjusted to the poor light in the room as he stepped inside. Immediately, he saw the form on the bed, and knew that he'd found another body. He could see it was a woman, and her clothes had been ripped from her body. It appeared she had been beaten brutally around the face and he saw blood on the bed. He suspected that she had also been savagely raped. He thought she was dead and moved to cover the body. As he picked up the quilt, he saw a faint pulse in her throat. He realized that she was still alive, barely.

He hollered for Paul, "I've found a girl in here. She's still alive."

Paul came into the house and said, "Oh, my God. They're savages. I didn't find anything in the barn but it looks like they got some horses."

Matt said, "Let's clean her up and we'll have to find someplace to take her. Get a bucket of water and we need to find her some clothes. She's trying to come around, I think."

The girl moaned and moved. He kept her covered until Paul came with the water and they cleaned her face and bathed her body. After they got the blood off, Matt realized that she was a little older than she looked, maybe in her mid twenties. She was probably not bad looking, he thought, but it was hard to tell because her face was so swollen and bruised. She briefly opened her eyes and he spoke gently to her. "You are okay. We found you and we won't hurt you. Just rest."

She closed her eyes and he thought he saw a faint smile on her lips.

He and Paul stepped outside and stood near their horses. "Well," Matt said, "What the hell are we gonna do now?"

Paul said, "Damned if I know. We can't leave her here like this. And I guess we better bury these people. Maybe this girl can come around enough to travel with us till we find a place to leave her. And get her some help."

Matt said, "These guys are really leaving a trail of terror behind them. Someone's got to stop them, it doesn't look like they'll stop until somebody gets 'em."

The two men selected a place under a tree between the house and the road and dug the graves. Matt said, "Damn, we're gettin' pretty good at this."

Paul replied, "Too damn good at it, if you ask me. And I'm getting sick of it. The war's over and the killing should be stopping. This is not the way I thought I'd be going home."

They laid the couple in the graves and again Paul used his Lutheran upbringing to say a few words over the graves. The men did not know the names of the two they buried, but figured they could get that when and if the girl got better.

They knew they would be spending at least one night, maybe two, until she could travel. Matt thought, this might give John a chance to catch up with us and I bet he knows these folks.

Chapter Six

Lieutenant Ned Ross and his squad of nine troopers pulled up at Nannie Farr's gate. Ross said, "Sgt. McLeod, knock on the door and see if anybody's home."

The sergeant dismounted, but before he could make it to the front door a small black woman opened the door gingerly and said, "Can I help you, men?"

The lieutenant took off his hat and said, "Yes, ma'am. First, do you know that the war is over and if you were a slave before, you're not now?"

"Miss Farr smiled and said, "My former master gave me my freedom before he went off to fight. I've been free for some time. Thank the Lord if this war's over. Haven't we had a lot of killin'?"

"Yes, ma'am, but I'm sorry to say there's still some really bad folks running around.this part of the country and believe it or not, it's not Yankee soldiers. We're tracking a group of men we think are Confederate deserters that have been looting and killing all across Arkansas."

"Tell me. They hit my friends south of here and I've been out there today doing what I can for a boy and his sister. I'm a midwife but they had a girl who was bit by a snake while she was hiding from some men. They killed her daddy in his field. Before he died, he told his son there were six of them, dressed in Confederate grey."

He said, "That's the men we're after, all right. Can you give us some directions?"

"You just go back on that trail and go south for about six miles. You can't miss it. The girl is pretty sick but her fiancé is with her. He just got back from the war when this happened. He and her brother are taking care of her."

The soldiers remounted and pulled into the road. A mile or so out, the lieutenant said to his sergeant, "McLeod, if they hit that place yesterday, we need to keep moving before they get too far ahead of us. Sounds like we can't do much for the folks at that place anyway."

***

Caleb was riding a sorrel mare from the last place they had hit. Seth with his wounded leg was on another horse, and Saul on the third horse was leading Seth. The other three were walking. "Lucas said, "We gotta find some more horses."

Caleb said, "I know there'll be horses in Springer but maybe we'll find you boys something before that. We need to pick up the pace in case anybody's behind us."

"What I'm also thinking," he said, "Is that we might want to stop at that little bank in Springer and make a withdrawal, if you know what I mean. I don't want to hit Texas dead broke. I also know there's a livery stable there so we can find you something to ride. Just keep walking till we get there and this'll be okay. We'll all ride out of there in style with a few dollars in our pocket. You like that?"

"Sounds good, boss, how much further you reckon it is?"

Caleb replied, "We got four hours left today. We make camp and rest tonight. We'll be there before noon tomorrow. What I'm thinking is, you three boys can go down to visit the livery stable, act like you're gonna buy three horses. Get them all saddled up and ready to go. Then, do what you have to do and set the place on fire. That'll create a diversion and me and Saul will go in and hit the bank while Seth holds the horses. We'll all meet up south of town on the way to Milam. If we get separated, we keep going to Milam. I got friends and family there."

**

John and Lawrence finished washing the supper dishes. Through the day, Angie had waked up periodically and seemed to be more cognizant with each hour. She had a fever but it was much better than the night before. Each time she woke, she called for John and he was able to calm and soothe her back to sleep. He wasn't sure if she was actually aware of the events of the last two days but he was fairly certain that she would live with the emotional scars. The swelling and the purple color of her leg were terrible but eventually those would heal. He expected that she would have a weakness in that leg, maybe permanently

John was thinking that he should be following Matt and Paul early the next morning, but he dreaded having to tell Angie that he was going.

Lawrence sat down at the kitchen table and said, "She's a lot better, just this afternoon, don't you think?"

"I do", said John, "Thanks be to God."

"Are you gonna leave after those men?" Lawrence asked in a quiet voice. He was conscious that Angie might be able to hear them talking.

"They killed your dad, Lawrence, it's the right thing for me to do. There's no telling what they would have done to Angie if they had found her. They have to be stopped and Matt and Paul deserve all the help they can get. They came here and got into this because of me. I promise you this, I will be back. And soon."

Lawrence hung his head. "You think I can take care of her till you get back?"

"I'm counting on it, Buddy. When I'm back, you and I will have these two places back to where they ought to be. The hard times we've had are behind us, we've all got a future here now. That's what you have to think of."

Angie called out again for John. He stepped back into her room, bent over her bed and took her in his arms.

"Hey, Sweetheart, how you feelin'?"

"Better. I heard you talking to Lawrence just now. I don't want you to go but I know those men have to pay for killing Daddy before they hurt somebody else. Just come back to me as quick as you can."

He smiled, "I love you, Angie, more than anything. I won't leave until tomorrow. You rest now."

***

Matt and Paul finished burying the couple, and went out to look at the stable. They decided that at least three horses had been led out of the corral and they figured they were with the bushwhackers. That meant that at least three were on horseback and maybe the other three were on foot. Matt had tracked them on the road away from the house to the southwest.

Matt said, "I'm gonna check on the lady." He tapped on the door and walked into her room and found her sitting up in the bed, touching the bruises on her face with her fingers. She was wrapped in the sheet they had used to cover her.

She surprised him by trying to smile. "I bet I'm a pretty thing to look at. Who cleaned me up and put me in this sheet?"

Matt blushed, and smiled back to her. "Guilty as charged, ma'am. We didn't know what else to do."

She said, "We? How many of you were there?"

"Just my friend and myself. We came in right after this happened. I'm sorry to tell you, we just buried your folks. We found them outside in the yard."

She looked at him and said, "I know. I saw them kill them. Then they came into the house."

"You don't have to tell me about that," he said, "We could tell it was bad. I'm sorry, I don't know what else to say, really. Can we do anything for you?"

"Yes," she said, "I want to take a hot bath. I feel dirty. Then I'm gonna go find those sons of bitches and kill every one of them!"

"We'll get you that bath right now. We can talk about going after them after that. The same bunch killed some friends of ours further back on the road and we were tracking them when we came by your place. Do you know the Lafferes?"

The lady said, "Oh, no, they didn't get Angelina, did they?"

"No, she managed to hide in the cellar over at John's house. But a rattle snake was in there and she was bitten on the foot. Do you know Nannie Farr? Angie's brother Lawrence brought her from town and she took care of Angie. We think she'll be all right. We left John Combs with her until she's better."

"John! How do you know John Combs?"

"I served with John along with Paul, the guy outside with me, and just a few days ago we were in Tennessee when we heard the war was over and we could start for home. We rode into his place half an hour after the Lafferes were shot. He found Angie in his cellar."

She said, "We didn't know if John made it through. My man didn't, I was notified that he was killed at Gettysburg."

Matt said, "I'm very sorry to hear that, ma'am. An awful lot of good men died .Now, let's get you that bath. By the way, my name is Matt Dixon, and my partner is Paul Mueller."

"I'm Carrie Brunson My parents were Sam and Mary Hughes."

Matt said, "I'll heat the water. I saw the tub outside."

Matt was gone fifteen minutes and he and Paul carried the tub into the house. He knocked on the door and said, "Are you decent? Can we bring the tub in?"

"I'm okay, thank you," she replied as she held the sheet and tried to straighten her hair with her fingers.

The two men struggled as they carried the tub of hot water into the room. Matt introduced Paul and said, "We'll be outside if you need anything."

Carrie stepped into the tub and settled into the wonderful clean water. She would never be really clean again, she thought. She had tried to shut her mind against the savagery that had been forced on her body. Some of it, she could block out But she would never forget those men. She would know them when she saw them, and she knew that somehow she would see them dead.

Then her mind jumped. God, what a good looking man that Matt is, she thought. No doubt he's married or got some girl waiting at home He was so gentle and kind, he must have been around a woman somewhere in his life

Carried cleaned herself as best she could and washed her hair. She knew her face must look like a war zone but there was nothing she could do about it. At least, she thought, they didn't knock out my teeth.

She felt dizzy as she stood up, and caught her breath. She stepped out of the tub and picked up the towel he had left for her, and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Are you all right in there?" she heard him call.

"I'm all right, just a little weak from the hot water. Give me a minute to find my clothes and I'll be out. I feel a lot better."

"That's good to hear. We'll be out on the porch if you need us," Matt said. It crossed his mind that she was trying hard to sound brave, as if what had happened to her was not a big deal. But he'd seen all the dried blood in her hair and all over her body. She was probably very lucky to be alive, and she would live with the memory of it forever. he had a brief thought that he would have liked to meet her under a different circumstance.

She finished dressing and, finding the small hand mirror in her wardrobe, checked her face one last time. She was able to stand but barely could walk. She called out, "I'm dressed. Wonder if they left anything to eat around here?"

Chapter Seven

Caleb stopped his gang about a mile north of Springer. Springer sat right on the border between Arkansas and Louisiana. He knew Springer was in Louisiana so he figured that they were sitting right on the border now. He said, "Okay men, here's the plan. Jeremiah,you take Daniel and Lucas and you boys mosey on down to town. The livery stable is on this end of town. Tell the man you need three mounts and tack but take your time picking them out. Me and Saul and Seth will swing around south of town and come in from the other side. Give us an hour or so and then set fire to the livery stable. When folks come running that will be our signal to hit the bank."

Jeremiah said, "Good, I'm tired of walking. We'll meet you boys south of town.

Caleb replied, "Keep heading south. We'll try to find you on the road but if we don't, we can meet up in Milam."

Jeremiah smiled and said, "Oh, I suspect we will meet you, pretty quick. You boys'll have the money and it's part ours. Right?"

Caleb said, "Sure it is, you boys don't have to worry about that. Haven't I always treated you square?"

Caleb watched the three men walk toward the town. He then led the other two around to the right so they could come into town from the other side. About twenty minutes later the three men rode into Springer from the south. They were looking around warily for Union troops but there didn't seem to be any in town. They were not worried about any type of local law, but when the Union troops got there it would be a different thing.

They rode by the bank and saw that it was open but there were no horses tied in front and most likely, no customers inside. They rode slowly on, then saw the smoke at the north end of town. Caleb knew what it was. He raised his voice loudly and screamed. "Fire, Fire, the livery stable is on fire." Quickly, people came out of the buildings as if from nowhere and started running toward the stables. The whole town was on the move. The three men pulled up at the bank and Caleb and Saul handed their reins to Seth.

As they entered the bank they met a male clerk and the banker coming out of the door, evidently heading to help put the fire out at the livery stable. Caleb pulled his gun and they pushed the men back into the bank and closed the door.

"Hold on there, fellers. They have enough people to put out that fire. We got some business to take care off. Let's get that safe open, my pardner and I need to make a withdrawal."

Saul had his gun out and was herding the clerk behind the counter. Caleb grabbed the banker around the neck, put his gun to his back and said, "Move! Open that vault right now or y'all won't be alive when somebody finds you."

Caleb was a good twelve inches taller than the banker and the small man was shaking as he stammered, "I have to get the keys."

"Then, git 'em! And open that safe!"

The man finally found the keys in his desk, and handed them to Caleb He said, "There's not much in there. Some gold coins, mostly Confederate paper that's not worth much."

"Hell, it's not worth anything but we'll get whatever's in there. Give me those keys."

As Caleb ran across the small lobby toward the vault, the banker bolted for the door. Saul used his pistol and caught him with a powerful, vicious blow across the forehead. The man crumpled to the floor like a rag doll.

The clerk bent down over the man on the floor and said, "You've killed him!"

Saul said, "He shouldn't have run and it's too bad for you because you saw it." He turned and fired point blank into the man's face."

At that moment, Caleb came out of the vault with a bank bag, and as he ran to the door, said, "What? You crazy fool, you killed both of 'em. They'll be after us! We got to get out of here. Let's go now, somebody could have heard that shot."

Caleb and Saul grabbed their reins from Seth and the three headed south down the street at a hard gallop. The stable was still burning in the background.

***

Lieutenant Ross and his troopers rode into the town of Springer with the smell of smoke still in the air. They rode past the livery stable, still smoldering, when a young boy raced up to him. "Are you Yankee soldiers?"

"Yes, we are, son, but the war is over now. Looks like you've had some excitement here?"

"Yes, sir, we had three men murdered yesterday and they robbed the bank and burned down our stable. Wish you'd gotten here sooner."

The lieutenant turned to Sergeant McLeod and said, "Hold the men here, Sergeant, and I'll try to find out what's going on here."

Ross rode over to the rail in front of the General Store, and tied his horse. He stepped into the store and walked over to the man behind the counter. "Who's in charge here?"

The man looked at the officer in the blue uniform and said, "I'm the mayor of the town, and our marshall is not home yet from the war, so in the meantime I also am the acting law. How can I help you?"

"As of right now, sir, this community along with others around here is under martial law of the United States and will be until further notice. However, it is not our intent to disrupt anyone's lives and all we want to do is to help you return to normal as soon as we can. I see you've had a fire down the street."

The mayor held out his hand to shake and said, "Welcome. Most of us wish you'd gotten here yesterday. We had three men killed by a band of renegades that came through. We figured out they started the fire at the stable as a diversion. They killed the livery man and stole three horses. At the same time their comrades robbed the bank, and they killed the bank president and his clerk. The banker lived for a little bit, long enough to tell us there were two of 'em, and one of them was really tall."

"We've been tracking these men through Arkansas, and that falls along with what we've heard. We're sorry for your loss. After my men rest up for a bit, we're going to continue on after them."

The Mayor said, "They left going to the south."

***

Carrie was very self conscious as she walked out onto the porch to join the men. She was impressed by how quickly both of them jumped to their feet. She had met Matt but the younger one looked like he could take care of himself. Matt must have seen she was unsteady on her feet, because he grabbed a chair from inside. She sat down and said, "This fresh air feels so good."

Matt said, "Carrie Brunson, meet Paul Mueller. Paul is a Texas boy, too, trying to get home. He's going to Central Texas, west of Austin, and I'm headed for Milam, in East Texas."

"Paul said, I'm really glad to meet you, ma'am. Matt and I feel bad about what's happened. Wish we had come sooner." His voice trailed off, as he realized what he was saying.

Carrie smiled, and said, "I wish you had been here too, but I'm gonna survive. Might not have, if you guys hadn't come when you did, though."

Matt was watching her, thinking to himself that this girl had a grit and a sense of humor and she wasn't all that hard on the eyes, either, in spite of her swollen face. He could see that when the bruises cleared up she would be pretty again. She had beautiful long black hair, and a good figure, too. He caught himself staring and thought, I should not be thinking this way after all she's been through.

Paul said, "Well, I'm thinking somebody has to rustle up something to eat. What if I go out into those woods and try to find a doe or something?"

Carrie replied, "I'm sorry but I think those men took most of our supplies. You won't have any trouble, the woods are full of deer."

Paul saddled his horse and went toward the woods away from the farm.

Matt and Carrie were left sitting on the porch, and suddenly the silence was deafening. He cleared his throat awkwardly and said, "You've done a good job of looking after this place. Did you and your husband..."

Carried interrupted his sentence, "Thank you, I..."

They broke out laughing, embarrassed that they were both talking at once. Matt looked at her, and again he thought she was a good looking woman. And it was good to hear her laugh.

Carrie caught herself thinking that Matt was the first man she had noticed since Jerry. But he would be leaving tomorrow or the day after.

### ***

The next day, John was up before daybreak. Angie had her best night yet, sleeping soundly. She and Lawrence were still asleep, and John decided it was best that he leave early without waking them. They knew he would be going, and he thought it would be easier for Angie if she didn't have to see him ride away. He left a note on the kitchen table that he would be back as soon as he could, and told Lawrence to stay in the house with Angie as much as possible. John rolled his bedroll with some cornbread and sausage and rode out to the road to the south.

Two hours later, he saw the homestead of Sam and Mary Hughes and decided to stop by their place to see if everything there was okay and to tell them that Angie's father was dead. Angie had told him that Jerry Brunson, their son-in-law had been killed at Gettysburg and that Carrie was at home with her parents. He had grown up with the Hughes as neighbors, and knew Jerry, too.

As he turned into the lane, he noticed two horses out in the corral and had not reached the house when he saw Matt step through the door. "Hello, the house. Matt, what the hell are you doing here? Where are the Hughes? I thought you all were heading for Springer."

Matt pointed to the two fresh graves as he came down the steps. "We got here late, John. Looks like they were visited by the same bunch that killed Mr. Laffere. We found the daughter in the house. Nearly dead."

John said, "Carrie? Is she okay now?"

"Not yet", said Matt. "But I think she's on the mend. She is one tough lady. They were rough and brutal. I'm glad they didn't get to your girl. The snake bite may have been easier than what this lady's been through."

"Where's Paul?" John asked.

"He's here in the house. We were hoping you'd show up. We're thinking she may need another day's rest. She says she wants to go with us, she's determined to be there when we catch those guys. They took her horse, so we may take her with us to Springer and she'll get a horse. She's got some money in the bank there, and friends to stay with. I don't feel good about leaving her here."

Carrie and Paul came to the door, and she cried, "John Combs! Matt told me you were back. How is Angie? And Lawrence?"

John said, "It's sure good to see you too, Carrie, and I'm sorry about your folks. The same bastards killed Mr. Laffere, too. Angie's getting better. Her leg is bad but she's gonna be okay, I think. Lawrence is there to look after her until I get back."

"I guess you heard that Jerry didn't make it." Carrie said to John.

"Yeah, Angie told me," he said, "I'm sorry for your loss. He was a good friend and a good man."

Carrie looked at the three men and said, "Listen, guys. I know this is awkward for you, but I will survive. If I get my druthers, I want to go to Springer, now. The sooner you get after those guys, the sooner they will die. And it can't be too soon for me!"

"Well," Matt said, "Do you think you can ride?"

"You've got the biggest horse, Matt, I'll ride double with you. It's not that far."

John spoke up, "Sounds like she's got her mind made up, Matt. You want to head out today or wait till morning?"

"Let's get going, we'll take it slow," Matt said.

Carrie was already moving into the house. She said, "Let me get a couple of things. You boys get the horses and I'll be right out."

When Carrie reappeared, Matt led the horse to the porch and without saying a word, he reached down, picked her up, and swung her up so that she could lift her leg over the horse. John watched and winced, knowing it had to be tough on Carrie, but noticed that Matt handled Carrie very gently.

The four rode slowly for about three hours, and John noticed that Carrie was beginning to tire. He said, "Matt, why don't we take a break. I bet Carrie would like to be off that horse for a few minutes."

"I was thinking the same thing," said Matt.

Carrie said, "Thank you, guys. I've got an idea. I know I'm slowing you down. Maybe, Matt, you and Paul could go on and John, would you stay here with me for a little while till I can get back up on a horse? My bottom needs a break,"

The three men laughed self-consciously, and Matt said, "That's probably a good idea. We'll wait for you two in Springer. We'll check around to see if those men have been there and we'll see you in town."

Matt and Paul rode away. Carrie watched them and thought how nice it felt holding on to a man.

Chapter Eight

Two hours later, Matt and Paul rode slowly into Springer. The town was quiet, but they noticed that people on the street were looking at them funny. One man pointed their way, then ran off around a building. About a minute later, from behind the building a squad of Union soldiers charged at them and surrounded the two. A lieutenant pulled up to them and said, "You men are under arrest. Hand over your weapons and step off your horses."

"What the hell!" Matt exclaimed. At the same time he put a restraining arm out on Paul. "What do you mean, we're under arrest? What the hell for?"

The lieutenant said, "For starters, for killing three men here in town, among other things. My men and I have been tracking you guys all across Arkansas."

Matt said, "Lieutenant, you got the wrong guys. We've been tracking those men, too. They've killed two families that we know of and we followed them into town here."

"We'll figure that out, but right now you're going to jail. We're looking for two strangers, one of them is real tall, and you fit the picture. Besides that, where'd you get these Union guns?"

"We can explain the guns. You Yankees had far superior firepower. These are spoils of war that we picked up off the battlefield. Half the confederacy was doing that."

"That's enough. We're holding you for questioning," said the lieutenant.

He turned to his sergeant and said, "Walk them over to the jail, and have someone tend to their horses."

Matt and Paul were marched to the jail, a small log building on the main street with a small sign out front which read Marshall's Office. Inside, there was a small office with a desk and two cells in back. The sergeant grabbed a set of keys hanging on a hook on the wall, and led Matt and Paul over to the cells. "Take your pick," he said, but didn't wait for an answer. He pushed Matt into the first cell, slammed the door, and put Paul into the second. He walked out of the office, leaving them standing at the bars, in disbelief.

A few minutes later, the lieutenant walked in with a man dressed in civilian clothes. The lieutenant said, "My name is Lieutenant Ned Ross. This area is now under martial law, and that's why I arrested you. It has nothing to do with you being Confederates. Two days ago some men rode into this town, burned the livery stable as a diversion while they robbed a bank. The liveryman, the bank president, and a clerk were all murdered. Before he died, the banker said his killer was a big man. You, sir, are a big man."

Matt said, "I am a big man. My name is Matthew Dixon. I was a Captain in Stuart's brigade. This is Sergeant Paul Mueller. We surrendered over three weeks ago in Tennessee and were on our way home to Texas. A friend, Sergeant John Combs was traveling with us. When we got to his place near Washington, Arkansas, we found his neighbors had been murdered and his fiancé had been forced to hide in a cellar where she was snakebit. We were tracking the killers, six men we think, when we found another farm. They had killed an older couple and raped and savaged a lady. She's with our friend and they should be here either tonight or tomorrow. They'll verify our stories."

The lieutenant said, "Where are you heading?"

Matt replied, "Well, I just said, we're tracking those men but, before the war, I was the sheriff in Sabine County, Texas. My friend here is from the Hill Country in Central Texas. We're both on our way home. But we are trying to catch those guys before they kill any more people. We've buried three in the last two days."

The lieutenant said, "Have you heard of Nannie Farr?"

Matt smiled, "I sure have. She was the lady that came over and treated the girl for snakebite."

The lieutenant said, "What you're saying tracks a little bit with what we know. Are you saying you've never been in this town before?"

"That's what I'm saying, Lieutenant. If you've got somebody identifying us, they're mistaken. Why do you think I would ride down the middle of the street if I had just robbed the bank?" Without realizing it, Matt's voice had taken the tone of a man addressing a junior officer, and it wasn't lost on the lieutenant.

The lieutenant nearly smiled as he said, "Hold on, Captain. The war is over and we'll get to the bottom of this."

Matt said, "Well, you need to get on with it, Lieutenant, because the killers are getting further away as we speak."

The lieutenant turned to the mayor and said, "Have you got anybody who can positively identify these two men other than to say one of them is tall?"

The mayor shook his head, "No, sir, and I've heard of this man. There was a Matt Dixon who had a fine reputation. He was the sheriff in Texas, in Sabine County."

The lieutenant said, "Well, that may well be. We all had a job before the war. I'm inclined to believe these men but I want to think about it for a little bit. We'll hold 'em tonight."

Paul spoke up for the first time. "Well, how about feedin' us then."

"Sergeant," the lieutenant said, "Go down to the saloon and get some supper for these guys." With that, he walked out of the jail, the mayor in tow.

### ***

John and Carrie were on John's horse, riding slowly toward Springer. "John," Carrie said. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure", he said.

"John, you know how much I loved Jerry. But he's been gone a long time. He left over four years ago. So I was wondering, is Matt married or does he have someone waiting for him?"

"Not as far as I know," John replied. "But I'm not so sure Matt's the marrying kind. He's talked about a girl in Milam who married someone else, a friend of his. I don't think he really ever got over her."

"What do you think he'll do when this is over?"

John looked at her and said, "One thing for sure, Carrie, I don't think Matt will ever be a farmer."

They rode on into town and when they saw the General Store, Carrie said, "I know the owner of the store real well. Let's stop there and see if they've seen Matt and Paul."

John pulled his horse up to the hitching rail and she slid off. "I am going to be more sore than ever," she thought as she stepped into the store with John.

"Hello, Mr. Jordan, you remember me, Carrie Brunson?"

"Of course I do, Carrie," the owner of the store came from behind the counter. "How are Mr. and Mrs. Hughes?" I haven't seen them in town for a while."

"Mr. Jordan, mother and daddy were killed at the house two days ago. Six men rode in and killed them and assaulted me. You see what they did to my face and that's not all."

"Oh, my God, Carrie, I am so sorry to hear this and about your parents. We have had some killing here too. In fact, we've got two men in jail now."

"Mr. Jordan, this is John Combs," she said.

"I remember John Combs. Don't you have a place up by Washington?"

"That's right, sir, adjoining the Lafferes. And I hate to tell you, it looks like that same bunch killed Mr. Laffere. My partners and I got there just after it happened, but the boy talked to the old man before he died and it sounds like it's the same people. We've tracked them here, but my two partners were ahead of us and we haven't seen them yet."

The mayor said, "I'll bet they're in our jail. Let's go get the Union lieutenant and clear this up. We're under martial law here and we've got a Union officer in charge, but he seems to be a reasonable man. Come on with me."

John and Carrie looked at each other in amazement. They followed Mr. Jordan down the boardwalk from the general store to the jail, when the mayor saw the lieutenant coming from the other direction.

"Lieutenant Ross", he called, I need to talk to you."

The lieutenant was on his way into the jail, but stopped when he heard the mayor. "What can I do for you, Mayor?"

The mayor said, "I think maybe those guys we've got in jail were telling the truth. This is John Combs and Carrie Brunson. They're neighbors up near Washington. Both their places were hit by the same gang and her parents were killed. John here is partners with those men you have in jail. They were tracking the killers, just as Dixon said."

The lieutenant said, "I had about come to that same conclusion. Let's go talk to those men."

The four of them walked over to the jail and entered. John laughed out loud and said, "Captain, I see they finally caught up to you. Never thought I'd see you in jail."

Matt's face was all business. He said, "It's about time you got here, Sergeant. The food's not bad but the surroundings are terrible."

The lieutenant spoke quickly, "Okay, before I apologize, I want you to hear me out. We've been after those killers for so long, I couldn't take a chance. I have a proposition for you men. We're gonna turn you loose regardless, but if we're all after the same people maybe we can help each other. As near as I can figure, this lady's the only one who can actually identify these men. Ma'am, do you think you'll know them?"

"I will never forget them, but I have to tell you something. They might not live long after I see them. They're animals, and they treated me like I was non-human. They thought I was dead and they didn't stop," Carrie said.

The lieutenant said, "I'm sorry for the way you've been treated, Ma'am, I know it must have been terrible for you. Here's my thoughts. Why don't you men join us as advance scouts and let's go after these men. I have the authority to deal with them legally when we catch them, and you don't. If you're an ex-sheriff like you claim, you understand that. What about it?"

Matt replied, "Paul, what do you and John think about it? I'm not your commanding officer any more but I think this lieutenant is making sense. We'll track 'em, find 'em and let the Army handle it. Otherwise, we could get ourselves into some serious trouble at a bad time."

John said, "Makes sense to me."

Paul said, "Count me in."

The lieutenant opened the cell doors and the men walked out.

Matt said, "Carrie, if these guys will furnish you a horse, why don't you travel with this lieutenant and his men. We can travel faster that way."

Carrie protested, saying "I want to go with you guys."

John turned to her and said, "Carrie, you'll just slow us up, and these men are dangerous. Do you want somebody else getting hurt?"

The lieutenant interjected, "Ma'am you're welcome to ride with us and these men are right. They're gonna be moving at a fast pace."

Lieutenant Ross turned to Sergeant McLeod. "Get the men ready to move out and get this lady a horse. Let's make sure she's comfortable and all the men treat her well, she's been through enough. We don't need to get into details, but just make sure she feels welcome on this ride."

The Sergeant replied, "Don't worry about it, Lieutenant; I'll take care of it."

Ross then turned to Dixon and said, "Captain, we'll see you guys at camp every night. If the trail changes, mark it for us or send somebody back. We'll be right behind you. If you find them, get back to us as quick as you can."

Matt said, "My name is Matt, and I'm not a captain any more. We'll keep you informed as best we can. Now, can we have our guns back and can somebody tell us where our horses are. Too much time has been wasted already."

After retrieving their weapons and their horses, the men rode south out of town at a fast clip.

### Chapter Nine

Caleb Johnson and his men had been riding hard. It had been a stupid thing to kill that banker and his clerk, and he had a feeling somebody was on their trail. But the horses were tired and they would have to stop. He figured they had two and a half or three days of hard riding before they reached Milam. They needed to camp, shoot some game for supper, and rest up for an early start in the morning.

"Men, we're gonna look for a place to stop. Let's look for another farm. Maybe we'll find something to eat and drink. But no killing and no rough stuff. We're getting too close to home. Let's ride on to the next place, and we'll stop."

A couple of miles further they came to a cabin and a well kept farm with a truck garden and pigs and chickens around the barn. This time Caleb rode up slow in the front and said, "Hello, the house. Anybody home?"

There was silence for a moment and then a man answered, "We're home. What do you want?"

Caleb said, "Sir, we're Confederate soldiers on our way home, and we haven't had anything to eat all day. We've got some Confederate money and would be glad to pay for it if you have anything to spare."

The door opened and an elderly man appeared, with an ancient rifle in his hand and it looked like his wife was standing behind him. "How do I know you ain't outlaws?"

Caleb said, "I understand your concern, sir, but my men and I were honest soldiers serving the South and now we're just trying to get home, back to our families."

The man turned to his wife and they spoke quietly for a minute. Then he turned and said, "Well, come on in, then. We ain't got much but we can share with soldiers."

"Thank you, sir," Caleb replied. "Can we put our horses in your corral?"

"You can, and you'll find a place to wash up out there," the old man said. "Supper might be a little light. We're gonna have cornbread and beans with maybe a little ham."

"That sounds mighty good to us, and we thank you, sir."

The men took their horses to the barn and unsaddled. They left them in the corral, and as they walked to the house, Caleb reminded them, "Remember guys, we're on good behavior here. And these people probably don't have much, but they're willing to share. No sense in offending anybody."

### ***

Sergeant McLeod led a saddled mare over to Carrie, and made a motion as if to help her with the horse, "I think this filly will work out fine, Ma'am. I got her from the mayor and we'll have to get her back to him when this is over. Can I help you up?"

"Sergeant," Carrie said, "I don't really need any help from a Yankee. I can do just fine, thank you. I've been riding horses all my life. I was raised on a farm, after all." And with that she put her foot into the stirrup and swung herself up on the horse.

He smiled and said, "You do know what you're doing with a horse, I can tell."

Sergeant McLeod took his place in the formation and Carrie moved alongside. The soldiers moved out of town at an easy pace. The lieutenant was not pressing them into their customary trot and the sergeant figured their pace was a consideration to Carrie's comfort. It allowed the sergeant to make conversation as they rode along.

"So, Mrs. Brunson, I understand you just lost your parents, that these men killed them."

Her reply was terse, "Yes."

His voice was sympathetic, "I'm sorry, Ma'am. I guess there's not a lot I can say more than that."

"Thank you," she said, and glanced over at him. "You're the first Yankee I guess I ever talked to."

He smiled and said, "Ma'am, I was a farmer before this damn war started, and I'm hoping to be a farmer again as soon as I can. I promise you, I didn't start this war and most of the Yankee soldiers are just people that want to go home. I'm just thankful to God that I'm alive and will have the chance to go home."

She looked away, and said, "My husband didn't get that chance. He was killed at Gettysburg. I didn't know for quite a while but I finally was notified."

He said, "Oh, my God, I didn't know. You've had more than your share of grief."

Her face softened for a second and she said, "You didn't know. But now that I've lost my parents and my husband, I have to figure out how to keep that farm going on my own. First, though, I want these murdering bastards hung, and," she added, "They were wearing Confederate grey, not Union blue."

He said, "It really wouldn't have mattered what color they wore, they were bad men and we're gonna get 'em."

"How big is your farm", he continued, "And what did you raise?"

She was feeling more comfortable and it was good to talk with him about farming. "The farm is just this side of Washington, about sixty acres cleared and about another forty that my husband was going to clear. We have cows and pigs and we raise hay and some corn. Not a big place, but we could make a living on it. How about you? Do you have family?"

"Yes, ma'am, I'm from northern Missouri. I'm the oldest of two boys. Our place is about like yours, sounds like. My brother and I will have to split it up one of these days. He plans to stay there. My parents are getting on and not able to do all the work themselves. They'll be glad to see me now that this crazy war is about over. Surely I'll be discharged in a couple of months."

Carrie was thinking to herself, this guy's not that much different from the men around here, I guess. Too bad he's a Yankee.

The past few days had been so traumatic for Carrie that she had not had a chance to think about her future but this conversation had brought back to her that it would not be easy to keep the farm. She would have to find a way.

### ***

The three riders, Matt, Paul, and John, left Springer headed south. The main road out of Springer would take them in the direction of Shreveport, and they believed that six men on the run would take this road. That would mean that they probably would head for Shreveport or maybe even on to Texas.

The trail narrowed soon after they moved out of town. Matt pulled to a halt and said to Paul and John, "Listen, guys. these men have consistently traveled to the southwest. If their pattern continues, they're gonna hit Shreveport and cross the Red River. Then maybe they'll head for Texas."

Paul spoke up, "Okay, why don't I go on like a bat out of hell and not worry about following a trail. I'll go on to Shreveport and try to pick up a sign of them there. While you could try to track them in case they turn off another way. If I don't find anything I'll come back toward you and we'll meet up again. You all keep tracking along this road."

Matt said, "That might be a good idea. They're already a couple of days ahead of us, and Paul, you be careful. We'll be moving behind you, and we'll leave mark for the soldiers."

Paul put his horse at a canter and moved on down the road. Matt and John continued following the main trail, watching the side of the road for any sign of six riders.

Paul pushed hard and kept a steady pace for about six hours, not noticing anything unusual, until he saw smoke coming from a cabin up ahead on the trail. He slowed his horse and decided to take the time to stop, have a looksee and ask if the farmer had seen a group of men on the road.

He rode the trail into the farm and as he neared the cabin, stopped his horse and hollered, "Hello, the house. Anyone home?"

The door opened and an older man stepped out, with a rifle. The man said, "What do you need, Stranger?"

Paul said, "I'm looking for six men who rode by here, dressed as Confederate soldiers. I've been tracking them for a while. They're killers. They've been raiding and looting all the way across Tennessee and Arkansas. Haven't seen them, have you?"

Suddenly, a shot rang out, and the old man crumpled on the step. Two bullets flew past Paul's head. Paul was fast. His revolver was in his hand and he put six shots into the door of the cabin before they knew what happened. That gave him some time which allowed him a few seconds to turn his horse and put some distance between himself and the cabin. As he rode away a couple of shots went high over him as he raced out of range and stopped to consider his options.

Every fiber in his body wanted to turn back and brace whoever had shot at him. When he looked back, he noticed for the first time the several horses in the corral, and immediately knew he had found their quarry. The problem, he thought as he struggled with himself, was that if he were killed they would still be on the loose and would undoubtedly kill again. After a hard inner fight with himself, he turned back toward the direction Matt and John would be coming and kicked his horse forward.

### ***

The little woman was screaming as she dashed out of the house, "You've killed him! Why would you kill my husband?"

Caleb caught her by the arm and pulled her back and said, "That was an accident. I was shooting at him. Get back in here."

As he pulled her into the cabin he turned to the rest of the men and said, "Men, that jasper was looking for us. He knew how many of us there were. I've thought for some time they would be on our trail. We'd better get out of here now! Get the horses."

Saul spoke up, "What are we gonna do with this lady, Boss?"

"Whatever you want to do," Caleb said, "The rest of you get your stuff and let's go." He and the other four took off from the house.

Saul looked at the woman with a smirk on his face. He turned to close the door, and at that moment she grabbed a rifle from the corner of the room, whirled and fired. The bullet blew a large hole in Saul's chest. He looked at her in disbelief, then fell to the floor.

Caleb and the gang heard the shot. He ran back into the house, found Saul dead on the floor, and made a quick glance through the cabin. The woman was nowhere to be seen. He knew they had to get out quick, so didn't take time to look for her. He took one look back at Saul, ran out the door and to his horse and they moved back to the road.

### Chapter Ten

After Paul raced back down the road about three hours, he found Matt and John moving along the road. Quickly, he described what he'd found.

Matt said, "All right, but wait a minute. We've gotta notify Lieutenant Ross and his men."

Paul said, "What for? We can handle 'em. We need to get back there."

Matt replied, "Probably so. But remember what Ross said. If we take care of it we could be charged with murder under martial law. If we get the soldiers, we have some protection. And besides that, we told him we'd do it."

John said, "I think Paul might be right, though. We're gonna give them a further start."

Matt said, "Can't be helped. But, what we'll do is, John, you go back and get those soldiers here on the double. Paul and I'll go and try to get them in sight and hold them until you and the soldiers get there."

Paul looked at John and said, "Captain's probably right, as usual. Get 'em here quick as you can. Come on, Captain, let's go."

Matt said, "Okay, Paul, but let's take it easy. Your horse looks beat, let's give him a break. You can tell me exactly what happened at that house."

Three hours later, they rode into the yard at the farm Paul had left. As they came in, they saw an elderly lady some ways away from the house. She was digging what was obviously a grave. When she saw the two men, she dropped the shovel and raced for the house.

Paul called out, "Wait a minute, Ma'am. I was here earlier. I was trailing those men who shot your husband. We do not mean you any harm."

She opened the door and ran inside. She stuck her head out from behind the door and said, "That's what those men said. But they were horrible. Everything was fine, we thought, until you rode up. Then everything happened at once."

Paul said, "I'm sorry, ma'am, have they cleared out?"

"Yes, they're gone. But I had to kill one of them and hide in the cellar, or they would have killed me too. The rest of them took off on their horses."

Matt said, "Where's the dead one?"

"He's out there where I drug him to get him out of my house. Now I've got to finish the grave of my sweet Will," she began to cry.

Matt said as he stepped off his horse, "We'll finish that for you, Ma'am. You go inside and sit down. Paul will stay with you while I dig the graves."

"Don't you put that son of a bitch close to my Will!", she cried. "Put him out there in the woods where he belongs."

Paul removed his hat as he went into the house. He and the woman sat at the kitchen table. As she regained her composure, he said, "Ma'am, can you tell us, did they say anything about where they were going from here?"

She said, "I think they were headed for Shreveport next, but I heard their leader talk about going on to his home in Milam, Texas. He told my husband that's where he was from."

As she finished speaking Matt was at the door. "Ma'am, did you say Milam? That's my hometown."

"I think I heard him say that," she said.

Matt said, "That's interesting. Paul, I think I've got that grave ready. Ma'am, let's get your husband laid to rest."

Paul helped her to her feet and walked her to the site. He said a few words over the grave and the men paid their respects to the lady.

Matt said, "We have to move on, Ma'am, before they hurt other folks. We're going to Shreveport. A group of Union soldiers will be coming by here, and you shouldn't be afraid. They're good men, they're following us. Tell them what's happened here, and to meet us in Shreveport. We'll stay there till they get there."

She said, "Union soldiers! Don't tell me you boys are Yankees?"

Matt smiled and said, "No, Ma'am, we're ex-Confederate soldiers, but those Yankees are chasing those killers and we aim to help 'em. The war's over and it's time we quit thinking about Yankees and Confederates and start thinking about people again. There's good and bad on both sides. These Yankees seem like decent folks."

### ***

The rain had been coming down hard for some time and the skies were becoming black. Lieutenant Ross held up his hand for his troop to slow down. He motioned for John to pull up beside him, and said, "Doesn't that look like the cabin your friend Paul described?"

"It does," John replied. "Don't you want me to ride up to it? It might go over a little easier if I tell those folks you're coming in and what you're after. People are still not used to blue uniforms down here."

"You're right. We'll wait. Ask them if we can shelter the men in their barn till the storm is over. Holler when you want us to come in."

The wind was picking up at an alarming rate and the sky had turned to an eerie green color as John rode down to the front of the cabin and helloed the house. The lady opened the door and held it against the wind. She saw John and the troopers behind him and motioned them to come in.

John and the lieutenant hurried into the house and introduced themselves, and Lieutenant Ross said, "Ma'am, I hate to impose but I'm going to have to shelter my men and horses in your barn for a while."

With that, he went back out into the storm and called to Sergeant McLeod, "Get the men into the barn with the horses. Be quick, looks like something is about to hit!"

The horses were frightened and hard to hold as the soldiers led them at a run to the barn. They filed in, and Ross saw that they had managed to fit under cover of the roof. He stepped back into the cabin and said, "I think we'll be all right here. Your house seems sturdy enough but we got here just in time. I hope there's not a tornado in that cloud."

"I've always been afraid of bad weather," the lady said. "I was in a bad tornado as a little girl."

I think you may be going through another one, he thought to himself, as Ross looked through the window and saw the funnel starting to form, still in the air. The trees were whipping and wind was howling. To keep from alarming her further, he said, "Do you have a cellar?"

"Yes, right here. The door is here. It's where I hid from those men." she answered as she pointed to the table.

John pulled the table away from the wall to reveal a trap door. "Pretty smart of your husband," he said as he opened the door and held it for her.

"Yes, when we built the house it was a place to hide from Indian attacks," she said as she went down the five steps to a small space.

Ross and John were behind her, and John pulled the door closed. He could hear the wind screaming, it had changed from a whine to a loud roar that was becoming overwhelming. It seemed that the house was shaking, and the shutters were rattling.

The three of them stood in the darkness and waited. A few minutes passed, and the wind seemed to diminish. They could hear torrents of rain pounding the roof and hail pelted the side of the house, blown sideways by the fierce wind. After a while, John said to Ross, "Maybe the tornado has passed over. But we've still got a hell of a storm. I hope Matt and Paul got ahead of it."

Ross said, "John, why don't you stay here. I'll go out and see how my men and the horses made out. I'm sure glad we found the shelter we did. We'd have been in trouble out on that road."

He pushed open the cellar door and stepped up into the room. He opened the door against a large tree limb that had blown down and was blocking the door. The storm was moving away to the northeast and he could see the lightning off in the distance now. There had definitely been a tornado close by but it had missed them, not by much.

He pushed the limb away and looked toward the barn and the corral. He was relieved to see that the horses were huddled in a corner with their rear ends against the side of the barn. It appeared to be okay, or at least it was still standing. About that time, Sergeant McLeod stepped out to check the horses. When the two men saw each other, both started grinning, as the sergeant saluted.

The sergeant was still smiling when he said, "Providence smiled on us, Sir, I'd hate to have been out on that road when this thing hit."

The lieutenant returned the salute and said, "Is everybody okay? How about Mrs. Brunson? We didn't have time to bring her into the house."

The sergeant said, "Carrie is fine, Lieutenant, that's one hell of a brave woman."

"Glad you took care of her, Sergeant." Lieutenant Ross had noticed that McLeod had taken an interest in the woman, and he didn't have a problem with it. McLeod was a good man.

"Sergeant, can we have the troops ready to move out in ten minutes?"

"Yes, sir, I'll have them mounted and ready."

"On second thought, Sergeant, why don't we have the men get some of this debris cleaned up in the yard. This lady just lost her husband earlier today."

"Right," the sergeant replied.

Ross went back into the house to find John and the lady closing the cellar door, and saw that she was crying quietly. He pulled a chair to her and helped her to sit as she tried to wipe her eyes.

He said, "Ma'am, I can't bring your husband back. But I can promise you that those men are going to pay. We can't stay, we have to be on our way since they have a start ahead of us. My men are cleaning up your yard the best they can."

She looked at him and said, "Sir, I can tell that you are a good man. I'm sorry that I had a bad feeling for you because you're a Yankee."

"Thank you, Ma'am. We're all Americans now. We've got to get things back to normal as quick as we can. Now, can you tell us what you heard from those men about their plans, anything might help."

She filled in Lieutenant Ross and John, telling them that Paul and Matt had gone to Shreveport, and they'd left word with her that the soldiers should follow. She also told them that Milam was mentioned as a place the killers were heading.

They made their condolences to her again and mounted their horses. They had a four hour ride ahead.

Chapter Eleven

Matt and Paul had ridden in heavy rain for over two hours and the road was really muddy. They had lost the trail. However, the lady had mentioned Shreveport and they were on their way to the town, so they figured they were still on the right track.

Even though it was late spring, the rain had a cold bite to it and they were looking forward to finding some shelter. It had been a miserable ride but they could not afford the luxury of stopping.

Suddenly, they were surrounded by grey clad Confederate soldiers. A sergeant appeared and told them to stop and identify themselves. Another two soldiers appeared from the trees and grabbed the reins of their horses. Matt and Paul were taken by surprise, and caught off guard. "What's this?" Matt said.

The Confederate sergeant said, "I said, identify yourself, and be quick about it."

Matt said, "My name is Matthew Dixon. This is Paul Mueller. Three weeks ago I was Captain Matthew Dixon, and this was Sergeant Mueller and we were in Jeb Stuart's cavalry. The war was over on April 12, when General Lee surrendered. Now, who the hell are you?"

"My name is Sergeant Larry Hunt, and like hell the war's over. Shreveport hasn't surrendered, although my guess it is just a matter of days. Until then, though, until we get orders, we're gonna fight. Now, Captain, I believe you. But if you continue down this road you're going to be our prisoner. It may just be for a day or two or if you want you can turn around and just go back and act like you didn't come down the road."

Matt said, "Thank you, Sergeant, I understand your predicament. Let me make it easy for you. Why don't you detail somebody to take us back to your commanding officer as your prisoners? We're chasing a gang of killers. We've tracked them through Arkansas to Shreveport. They've been murdering, looting, and raping, and they've robbed the bank at Springer. We're close behind them, and we need to get this settled fast, or risk losing them."

The sergeant spoke to the two men holding the reins. "Jones, you and Landau, escort these two men back to headquarters. Tell the captain where we found them and let them explain to him what they're doing here."

Matt said, "Thank you, Sergeant. Let us go now. We won't give your men any trouble."

Paul said, "Matt, why don't we let them ride double. It's not that far, and we'll get there quicker."

"Good idea", Matt replied. "You boys swing on up behind us."

Matt said, "One more thing, Sergeant. There is a Union squad about three hours behind us that are tracking these same killers They have one of my men, ex-first sergeant John Combs and a lady, Mrs. Brunson, whose parents were killed by these men. She's the only one who can identify these murdering bastards. Now, these Union troops believe the war is over. They're not aware that Shreveport is still fighting."

The Confederate sergeant said, "Captain, if Union troops come down this road, my orders are to stop them. I don't have any choice in the matter."

Matt said, "I understand, but I don't want anybody killed. Confederate or Yankees. Let's change our plans. Let Paul go back and tell my first sergeant and the Yankees what the story is here. They can hold up for a couple of days until the situation clarifies. I'll go down and talk to your officers and try to identify these killers before they leave the city."

The Sergeant thought about it for a second and said, "I'm tired of killin' and this damn war, too. Tell your man to go back and stop those guys before they get here. Or to come down with a white flag. I know we're not gonna hold out for more than a day or two more, and then it's gonna be all over."

Matt turned to Paul and said, "Paul, I hate to do this, but why don't you go on back and meet Lieutenant Ross and John. Tell them what the situation is here and suggest that they come in under a white flag or hold up for a couple of days. In the meantime, I'll wait for y'all in Shreveport but I'm gonna try to find those guys."

"Got it," said Paul. "Be careful, Matt. You know these guys are killers."

Matt carried the soldier into Shreveport in the driving rain. The soldier directed him to the company headquarters. The city itself seemed to be in mass confusion. Civilians were packing their belongings into wagons, evidently expecting an invasion or even a burning, like that of Atlanta. The soldier delivered Matt to a Major Forrester, where Matt identified himself, showed him his parole papers from the Yankees, and told him how they had been treated when they surrendered.

The Major said, "May I borrow those papers? Our commanding officer is about to negotiate our surrender and I think he'll be interested to see these papers. I know, if someone told me I could take my horse and guns and go home, I'd be gone tomorrow. And I think he may feel the same way."

Matt said, "Sure, but I need them back. In the meantime, I need to look through the city. I'm looking for five men that have been murdering and looting all across the state. I think they're wearing Confederate grey but I assure you they're not soldiers."

The Major said, "Of course, but let me write a pass for you and you can trade it back to me for those papers after I show them to the General."

Matt waited outside the office, the man came back to him with a signed paper which would give him free travel in the city. Matt turned, left the office and rode down the street. He was headed for the ferry. He knew the men would have to cross the Red River to go to Milam. As he walked down toward the river, he saw the sandbags along the bank. At first he thought that the sandbags were fortifications but as he drew closer he could see that men were still adding to the sandbags and then he noticed that the river was really raging and it was evident that the river level was way above normal and evidently still rising. He saw the ferry landing and knew that the ferry was used to connect Shreveport to the Texas Trail that people used to migrate to Texas. He had come across it in the other direction when he went off to war.

As he walked up to the river's edge he saw the ferry was tied securely next to the bank. He couldn't help but remember how naïve he had been when he first crossed the river thinking the south would whip the Yankees in a couple of battles and the war would be over. How wrong he was, he thought.

Matt saw a man checking the lines securing the ferry and walked up to him.

He said, "Water is sure coming up. I just came in from Springer and it has been pouring all up through there."

The man replied, "Yep, water got so high I had to shut the ferry down yesterday and it will be a few days before we can start again. At least that's what I think. When the Yankees take over in a day or two they might have a different feeling."

Matt said, "Did you take five men and their horses over yesterday?"

The man looked at him quickly and said, "Yeah, they were my last load. I really didn't want to go but they said they needed to get across before the Yankees came, and they paid a little extra. We made it okay but the trip back was exciting. I'm not taking it across until the water goes down."

Matt turned and started walking back to his horse. It looked like the men they were after would have a few days and there didn't seem to be much they could do about it. His next priority, he thought, would be getting John, Paul and Lieutenant Ross and his men in town without bloodshed. It would be terrible to have someone killed on the last day of the damned war. He walked to his horse, mounted and started riding back to the road to Springer. The Confederate sergeant and his men were still there but they were looking at him expectantly. He figured they were wondering if he had any news about the surrender.

He said, "Howdy Sergeant, I did talk to a major at your headquarters and he gave me a pass. Would you like to look at it?"

The Sergeant said, "No, I believe you, Captain, but have you heard anything about the surrender?"

"Yes," Matt replied, "I was led to believe it is being negotiated right now. I sure hope you boys get the same terms we received."

The Sergeant said, "Me, too. I think you said they fed you, made you sign a statement that you would not fight any more, they let you keep your guns and ammunition and told you to go home. Is that right?"

"Yes, it is Sergeant." Matt could hear the yearning in the man's voice and felt sorry for him. It had been a hell of a war and for what? This man had probably never owned a slave in his life and just wanted to see his family.

Matt spoke again, "I'll bet that is what you boys will get, too. I hope it is. Say, do you mind if I wait here with you men in case my friends and the Union troops they are with arrive before the surrender? I don't want them or any of your boys to get hurt because of some timing issue."

The Sergeant smiled and said, "You think we want to fight today? We all hope we're through fighting, so light and warm yourself by that fire we got going in the woods over there."

It was less than thirty minutes later that a Confederate messenger rode up from Shreveport with the news that the war was over and the sergeant and his men were to report back into town to sign their amnesty papers. Then, they would be released to go home.

Matt shook hands with every one of the men and wished them well. He knew how they felt to lose the war because he had felt the same way himself. There would be no jubilation, but a sense of relief and hope for new beginnings. He suspected that every one of them was thinking about the quickest way to get back to their families.

Less than an hour later, Matt saw John and Paul riding cautiously up the trail from Springer, obviously looking for the Confederate troops that Paul thought were there. Matt rode out and waved them forward.

Matt said, "These men just got the word, Shreveport has surrendered, and the war is over for them. That's the good news. The bad news is that the river is flooded and we won't be able to cross it till it goes down. The men we're chasing were on the last boat to make it across. How far is Lieutenant Ross behind you?" he asked.

Paul replied, "No more than thirty minutes. They should be here shortly."

John said, "Wonder if Lieutenant Ross is still going to want to chase those men?"

Matt said, "I suspect he'll want to but the question is, will he get new orders or not. We'll just have to wait and find out."

### Chapter Twelve

Matt, Paul, John, Carrie, and Sergeant McLeod were waiting outside the Union headquarters building. The rest of the Union troops under Lieutenant Ross were down at the Union Mess Hall eating a hot meal. Sergeant McLeod had volunteered to stay with Carrie and the men while Ross had reported in and was getting further orders. Ross had been inside for over an hour when he reappeared and ask Sergeant McLeod to step inside. He smiled at Matt and the other men and apologized for the delay with the words, "Sorry to make you wait but I'm trying to make something happen that I hope will help you but you know the army, it takes time." And with that he and McLeod re-entered the building.

Paul said to the rest of the men, "Seems a lot like our army at times, doesn't it? Wait, wait wait and then go and hurry."

Matt laughed and replied, "I don't think armies are different. Just different uniforms."

Carrie Brunson spoke up, "Sergeant McLeod is a nice man. He is a farmer, just like my Jerry. I hope he gets to go home soon. He lives in Missouri.

John Combs smiled and said, "He lives in Missouri now but I think he may be a neighbor of mine sometime in the near future. Maybe living about ten of twelve miles up the road."

Carrie blushed furiously, while the other men smiled. It had been obvious that Sergeant McLeod was quite smitten with Carrie. She said, "John Combs, I don't know what you're talking about. He is a nice man and that's all I meant."

John said, "Hey, Carrie, we all think he is a nice man and I've talked to him, he is an experienced farmer and you are going to need someone. You could do worse, Jerry isn't coming home."

Ross and McLeod appeared and both men were smiling. Ross said, "Fellows, my men and I have new orders, we will be heading back to Tennessee and hopefully we will be discharged when we get there. All but one of us. I told the commanding general here about the men we've been trailing and how you men are trying to do the same thing. Matt, I also told him you were an ex-confederate officer and a lawman before the war. He wants those men caught. He issued a warrant for their arrest and he has detailed Sergeant McLeod here to travel with you as an official agent of the U.S. Army with the authority to serve the warrant and make sure those men are brought to justice. This should also give you the protection you need should you run into any more Union soldiers. McLeod volunteered for the assignment and will report back here when his mission is over. I suspect he will be discharged then."

Matt said, "Thank you, Ross. We've enjoyed our time with you and wish you the best. As soon as that river goes down we will be on our way and Sergeant McLeod will be welcome. One more thing, I have a pass that I'm supposed to turn in for my parole. Can you help me with that?"

Ross smiled and reached into his pocket. He said, "I almost forgot. I have already done it. I'll trade you this for the pass although the pass was signed by the Confederates and isn't any good. I'll just tear it up." And with that he handed Matt back his parole.

Carrie stole a glance at Dan McLeod and saw that he was also looking at her. "I think we should start to call the sergeant by his first name, Dan."

Dan winked at her and said, "I'll answer to either. But I will be pretty glad to lose that Sergeant title. For now, I'm ready to get after that bunch. And I'm proud to join you fellows."

Matt said, "We've probably got a couple of days before we can cross the river. We might as well find a place to stay and get Carrie a room. She can use the rest I know, and I bet she'd like a hot bath."

Dan said, "The general told Lieutenant Ross and I that you men, since you're more or less on a mission for us, are entitled to eat at our mess hall while you're here. At least it's hot food."

Matt said, "Thank you, Dan. But after we eat, I'm thinking that we'll go down to that ferry captain and ask if we can stay on the ferry. It's covered, and that way we can watch it for him and we'll hear any news about the flood and when we can cross. Dan, if you would, help Carrie get settled in a room someplace and meet us at the ferry."

Dan McLeod replied, "I'll be glad to. But I've been thinking that with all of these men around, Confederate and Union, I don't like the idea of Carrie being alone. I will find her a room but I'll stay and sleep outside her room tonight and we can meet for breakfast in the morning. That ferry is not going to leave for at least a couple of days."

### ***

After they had eaten, Carrie and Dan rode away from the Army mess hall. He flagged down a carriage with two ladies, and asked for directions to a rooming house that would be suitable for a girl. They sent him to a side street where he found the address and he and Carrie tied their horses to the post out front. It was a quiet house with a parlor and dining room on the lower floor and several bedrooms upstairs. The landlady met them at the door and they explained to her that Carrie would need a room for the night and a bath. The owner asked if they were married, and with a blush, Carrie replied that they were not, but were traveling together.

Dan spoke up before Carrie could say more. "This lady is under the protection of the U.S. Army and I have been assigned to accompany her. She is a key witness in several murder cases, and we'll be staying here until the river recedes, then we'll move on."

"In that case," the lady said, "Come with me, I will show her the room. And we can find a place for you, Sergeant, close by."

Carrie was more tired than she ever had been in her life. She wondered if she could even make it up the stairs. The lady stopped at a door and said, "I think you'll like this room, and I'll have my boy bring up a tub and hot water."

"Thank you so much", Carrie said, "We've been on the road from Arkansas, and that bath will feel so good."

The lady went back downstairs where Dan was waiting. "I have a room next door which is available, if you like. And will you be needing a place for your horses?"

"Yes, ma'am, we will, and I'll take the room," he said, with his hat in his hand.

"Come this way, then," she said, "I'll find my boy to take your horses."

An hour later, Carrie was rested and felt clean at last. She did her hair as best she could and the mirror showed that, with the dust and grime off, her face was starting to be more like before the beating. The bruises were fading and her eyes were not swollen.

She went down the stairs and, finding the landlady in the parlor, asked for Dan.

"I believe he is in the room where he'll be staying. I'll get him for you", she said.

Carrie thought to herself, that it was a good feeling to know that she was safe and that Dan would not let anything happen to her. She had always been a very confident woman, but the attack had shaken her more than she was willing to admit.

Dan walked into the room, with a fresh shave and wet hair. "Looks like we've both cleaned up real well. Let's find something to eat," he said, "I'm buying."

Dan had inquired of the landlady, and she directed them to a place down the street in walking distance where they found a pleasant dining hall. They enjoyed a nice dinner, and he commented that he couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten a good meal in such nice surroundings. They both agreed it was beginning to seem that life might be getting back to normal, or the normal before the war.

As they finished their meal, the hostess cleared the table and brought coffee. Carrie said, "So, what are your plans when you're released...heading back to Missouri, I suppose."

He said, "That was my plan, always. But there's no reason I have to get back there in a hurry. You'll be going back to your place, I know. I kind of like the country down here. I've been thinking that you're going to have a lot, for a girl, to take care of."

"I may be just a girl, but I can take care of myself," she said with a little edge.

He laughed, "I thought you might pick up on that. There's no doubt in my mind, you can do anything you set your mind to. I was just thinking I might stop off for a while, long enough to get the fieldwork started, and get you on your feet so you can take care of it."

She said, "I won't be able to pay much."

He looked her in the eye. "I wasn't thinking about that, Carrie, you're not going to pay anything, I have a little money saved from my pay. It will help us get what you need to get that farm back to where it should be. I would just like to get to know you better, and you could get to know me. I wasn't always a Yankee soldier, you know."

"I know that, Dan. I'm starting to understand that. Maybe in time we can get to know each other better."

They walked back to the rooming house in the twilight and at the porch, Dan leaned down as if to kiss Carrie. She turned her face away and he kissed her lightly on the cheek. "I have to be careful, Dan," she said, "I was hurt. Those men hurt me more than I let on."

She didn't finish. He said, "We all suspected that. You've been such a trooper. Maybe you should wait here while we go on to Milam."

"No," she said. "I have to go. I have to see them caught and killed or jailed or whatever. And, you know, I'm the only one who knows what they look like. I can and will identify every one of those bastards."

"Let's leave it for the night. I hope you get a good rest. I'm here in a room if you need me. Good night, Carrie."

### Chapter Thirteen

The day after the Red River flooded, a lone rider left Milam to make a five mile journey. He left the men he had been traveling with at a camp just outside of town; he wanted to introduce them later to the women he was going to see.

He was on his way to Green Oaks, the Babineaux family's cotton plantation. Six years earlier he had been named chief overseer and foreman of the cotton operation by the owner, Charles Babineaux. He had been a good manager of the thirty slaves, sometimes using harsher methods than the owner would have liked, but Babineaux had been pleased with the results when they invariably brought in good crops. The plantation was thriving at that time and he had no plans to leave or to find other work.

When news of the war came, Charles Babineaux was commissioned. Caleb had enlisted to go with Charles, both believing that the South would prevail and in short order they would return to start the next crop. The slaves would stay at the plantation and Babineaux's wife, Barbara, and his sister Laura would supervise the work with the lead slave, Henry, taking charge as overseer.

Now, some four years later, Charles Babineaux was dead, killed at Chickamauga. The South was defeated, and he expected to find that all or most of the slaves had left. The fields would be overgrown, the garden nonexistent, most of the cattle and pigs stolen or eaten, the big house in disrepair. He was sure that the two women had barely survived, not able to sell enough to provide for themselves. So he figured that he would be well received. He planned to ask to resume his position as foreman, gather whatever slaves were left and willing to work, and bring his men out to the place the next day. It was the middle of May, plenty of time to get a crop started.

As he rode down the long lane which ended at the big house, he saw that he had been correct. It was obvious that the plantation was in need of hard work. He saw a couple of black men loitering around the side of the house, but no one was in the field and all was quiet. He walked up the broad steps to the veranda, removed his hat, and knocked on the mahogany door.

Laura Babineaux answered his knock, and after gazing up at him for several seconds, she said, "Mr. Johnson, I am glad to see you. I had no idea you were still alive!"

"Yes, Ma'am, I made it through, and I'm mighty to see you and to be back at Green Oaks."

"And it's nice to see you back. Things have been pretty rough around here. Can I offer you some water or some tea?"

"I wouldn't want to impose, but it's been a long time since I've had a glass of tea. Things have been pretty rough on the ride back, and that would be very nice.

He stepped carefully into the foyer and she showed him to the front parlor to the left of the entry. "First of all, Ma'am, may I offer my condolences. I was with Major Babineaux when he was killed. I was with him at the end."

"Thank you and God Bless you for that," she said. "We've all lost so much in the South. We will never be the same, I'm afraid."

"May I ask for Mrs. Babineaux? I'm sure she has been a great comfort to you, even through her own loss."

"She was. We were both bereft, and though we were not very close, she made the decision to leave Green Oaks and move to the West. She was planning to go as far as the Arizona Territory, I believe. I have been here alone since, with the exception of ten of our people, most of them have been here all their lives and had nowhere else to go. Henry is here, but he has been acting kind of strange lately, and we don't seem to be getting much work done. Mr. Johnson, is it possible that you've come back to Green Oaks? I know that Charles would have been glad to have you here again."

"I was hoping you would feel that way, Miss. And some of the men I have fought with have come with me. They served under your brother, too. Tomorrow morning, we'll be here, and we'll begin the work of rebuilding Green Oaks."

They made their goodbyes and he rode back to the camp. The next day he and his men would return to the plantation. They could live in the old quarters until a better house could be built.

Over the next couple of days they made good progress in cleaning the grounds and making minor repairs to the house and the outbuildings. The people who were still there understood that the war was over, but told him that they were willing to stay for food and a place to live. They were somewhat loyal to Miss Babineaux since she had provided for them and cared for their sick. Their natural leader was the slave named Henry. The others looked to him for leadership, and Henry helped the situation by acting as a mediator in their behalf. Johnson knew that they could and probably would leave at some time but also that he needed their help.

### ***

Matt, Paul, John, Dan, and Carrie waited three days for the river to crest and recede enough that the ferryman said they could cross the river. Early in the morning, they loaded the horses and the ferry made the crossing without incident.

Across the Red River, just west of Shreveport, they turned south toward Logansport. Matt knew from experience that it would be a good place to cross the Sabine River. He figured they would make it to Logansport in one day, and would be in Milam the following day.

The war had not touched this part of the country as it had Arkansas and Louisiana, and some of the people looked sullenly at Dan's Union uniform. Matt tried to make sure that one of them was always around Dan, to avoid any incident.

They arrived at the edge of Logansport at dusk, and Matt decided that they would wait until morning to cross the river. They looked around for a place to make camp for the night on the banks of the river. It was full from the rain and the ground was saturated.

Dan McLeod said, "Boys, I think it's too wet and we could still get more rain. What's wrong with going on into Logansport and trying to find a dry place to spend the night. Even the livery stable would be better than this."

Matt said, "Men, I think the Yankee's right. At least we can go in there and look."

Paul said, "Makes sense to me. No wonder the Yankees won the war. They may be smarter than we are."

Carrie said, "I know I'm just a woman and don't get a vote but if I did, I wouldn't spend the night in the rain if there were any other options."

The men all laughed at that, and they were on their way into town.

They found the livery stable on the edge of town. The livery man looked at the Yankee uniform on Dan, and it was plain from the look on his face that he was about to turn them away.

Matt dismounted, and walked over to offer his hand. He said, "My name is Matt Dixon. I was the sheriff down in Sabine County before the war, and the three of us here in civilian clothes all fought for the Confederacy. This Yankee sergeant is on a mission with us to catch some killers and we consider him to be with us. Now, have you got a recommendation of where we might find a dry place to spend the night."

The livery man's face relaxed and he took Matt's hand. He said, "I remember your name, Sheriff. You boys are welcome to put up here for the night. There's some hay up in the loft and you'll be dry. The lady might not be so comfortable, but it will sure beat camping out."

"Great, thank you. Now, where can we find something to eat? Is there a café around here?"

"The café's closed, but the saloon is open. You might get something to eat there. This early in the evening, it won't be too bad in there. You might want to consider leaving the lady and the Yankee here. Some of the boys are still a might touchy about Yankee uniforms."

The five quickly agreed, and Matt, Paul and John walked down to the saloon. Dan took care of the horses, while Carrie went up to the loft. She sank down on the hay, glad for a place to rest.

In a few minutes the men were back from the saloon, with beef sandwiches.

"We decided to come on back instead of taking our time there," Paul said.

"Good," Carrie said, "I'm starving and that looks really good."

Matt said, "And we probably need to bed down soon, to make an early start. We'll have to ford the river early tomorrow morning and get going it we want to make Milam before dark. We've got a hard ride. It's a good thirty miles."

Chapter Fourteen

Laura Babineaux was uneasy having the strangers on the place, but felt comfortable with Mr. Johnson. She had never known him well, Charles had worked with him. He seemed sincere enough, and his men were polite and hard working. She knew that she desperately needed his help. She wanted to stay at Green Oaks but was facing the reality that, without a crop, she would have to sell. And there was no one in that part of Texas with resources left to buy anything.

This evening she had decided to have him and his men come into the back door and she offered them a supper of biscuits and eggs and fried potatoes. She knew that they were camping outside until they could build some kind of lodging, and when she asked if they would like to come into the house, Mr. Johnson was very appreciative.

The men washed their faces and hands at the pump and found their seats at the table. Laura was bringing the hot bread from the oven when Mr. Johnson stood up and moved over to the window.

"Some riders are here," he said. "One of them is wearing a Yankee uniform. I'm not easy with them, Miss Babineaux. Why don't you go into the back of the house, let me see what they want."

He caught the eye of one of the men and motioned for him to take her out of the room. The others moved back, and he answered the door.

### ***

Matt, Paul, John, Dan and Carrie were saddled and moving down to the river as the sun rose. The skies were clear and, though the river was still muddy and fast, it was no longer at flood stage.

They rode down the river about a mile and Matt said, "If I remember right, this will be the best place to cross. The water should be about up to the horses' bellies. Paul, you lead us in. John and I'll be behind you, in front of Carrie, and Dan, you stay on the downstream side of her. Carrie, are you okay with this?"

"My horse is as good as yours, isn't she?" she said. "If she's ready, I am."

Paul took his horse into the water, and let him have his head. The horse managed to keep his feet all the way to the other side, not having to swim.

Paul hollered back, "Safe enough, fellas. It's not too deep, just fast. Let the horses go, they won't panic."

Matt and John, then Dan and Carrie, all made it safely across the river, and up the slippery bank on the other side. Matt remarked to Paul that it went much better than he had feared, and they found the trail to Milam.

As they rode through the morning, Matt found that the road was very familiar. He was now back into Texas, just west of the Louisiana border. In his past life as Sheriff of Sabine County, he had often come to Shelby County, which bordered Sabine County, and he had worked with the sheriff there on cross county cases.

Matt considered his options and decided probably the best place to start in Milam would be the Babineaux plantation. He knew that his friend Charles Babineaux was dead, but his wife Babs should be there to give him the lay of the land and if not, Charles' sister, Laura, would be there.

Matt knew it would be dark when they got to the plantation and he thought they could stay there for the night. Before the war, there had been slaves on the farm and he knew they were treated well by Charles. Babs, he knew, would be happy to put them up in the house for the night.

They rode down the lane to the house and he saw that the fields on either side of the road were not as well cared for as in the days before the war. He did see men working the rows, however, so he knew that the slaves were still there. Every place in the South, he thought, would have to be rebuilt and brought back to life. It would be a long, hard journey.

The house came into view, as he remembered it. The two story red brick with Grecian columns and verandas on all sides, was one of the most impressive houses in the county. They rode up the front drive to the hitching post in front. Matt wondered why it seemed so quiet, he didn't see a sign of life anywhere around the house.

He thought he saw drapery move beside the front door, so he figured someone was in the house. It didn't make sense that there was no one in sight.

He turned to the group and said, "I'll go up and see if Babs or Laura are at home. I know them both real well. Wait here and I'll see if we can spend the night here and go on into Milam tomorrow."

Matt handed his reins to Paul and walked up to the door with an uneasy feeling. He used the knocker, and banged on the door. Nothing. He hit it harder and finally he heard someone on the inside walking toward the door. It opened and a white man needing a shave opened the door. Matt recognized the man from before the war and what he remembered was that the man was the slave overseer for the plantation and Matt suspected that he had lived right on the edges of the law. Matt said, "Are the Babinneax ladies at home? Either Babs or Laura?"

"No one's home."

Matt said, "They're friends of mine. Can you tell me when they will be back?"

The man shook his head and said, "Neither one of them live here anymore. There's no one you know here." And with that the man shut the door in Matt's face.

Matt turned and walked down the steps and saw Carrie's face. It was in shock.

He said, "What wrong, Carrie? You look like you've seen a ghost."

With a very low voice she looked him in the eye and said, "That's one of the men who killed my parents and raped me."

### Chapter Fifteen

Matt's hand was swift as he reached out to Carrie to stop her from saying anything else. His voice was strong with command, "Nobody do anything. We are going to turn around and ride out of here as if nothing is wrong. There could be rifles trained on us right now. Turn your horses around, let's get out of range and we'll make a plan."

The men turned their horses but Matt had to get his horse between Paul and the mansion. He knew the temper of the young man, had seen him in battle, and he was afraid that Paul might storm the house. Matt looked at Paul and said, "Let's go, Paul. You know we'll come back but it will be on our terms."

### ***

Three days earlier, Caleb Johnson had ridden up to the Babineaux Plantation with his four men. It had felt like home. He had been the slavemaster before the war, working for Charles Babineaux. When Babineaux had received his commission in the Confederacy, Johnson had enlisted in Babineaux's command, both men thinking the war would be over in less than a year. That had not been the case and when Babineaux had been killed, Johnson had enough. He had talked five men into deserting with him and they had made their way back across Tennessee, Arkansas, and part of Louisiana. They had looted and taken what they wanted all the way back.

It was obvious that the Confederacy was collapsing and it would be some time before law and order would be restored. He figured that this would bring opportunities for a smart man and all he needed was to find a place to hole up and establish himself again.

The Babineaux plantatation was a perfect solution. He knew there were two women living there and probably not a man in the house. Charles Babineaux was dead. He knew that Laura Babineaux needed help with the farming, and he suspected that she would welcome him back. He planned to give her the story that he and his men had been discharged and he had come back to resume his job.

When they arrived, he found that Babineaux's wife had sold out to the sister and she was obviously incapable of running the place. The slaves were still there but he knew that when the word got down many of them would leave. But he figured many would not have a place to go and if he promised to take care of them, some would stay.

In the past two days, he had started to oversee the work in the fields, but Laura had unexpectedly become difficult when he started to take control of the place.

He was not sure what he would do with her. She would have to come around, or disappear.

Then, the ex-sheriff had come by, looking for the women. And Caleb didn't think that sheriff would be satisfied with his answer for long.

### ***

Matt led the group back down the road around the bend and out of sight. He motioned for everyone to pull up. He said, "Carrie, you're sure that was one of the men that attacked you?"

Carrie said, "I've never been more sure of anything in my life. He was the leader."

Matt said, "Okay, we're gonna take care of it. But we have to be careful. I know there are some women living there and I don't know why they didn't come to the door. We can do one of two things. We can go into town tomorrow and try to find out what the story is or, we've missed these guys so many times, we can just go in and take care of it."

Paul spoke up, "Let's don't take a chance on 'em getting away. We've got the law here on our side with Dan, and we have the cover of darkness. Let's go in, give them a chance to answer some questions, and see what happens."

Dan said, "Let's do it. I do have the authority, the General made that clear. So if Carrie recognized that guy, that's good enough for me."

Matt smiled and said, "I think the Army has spoken. Here's what we need to do. John, you have got to take care of Angie, she's all alone. So you're gonna play a backup role here. Same goes for you, Dan, you've got to take care of Carrie. You know it."

He was looking at Paul as he said to the others, "I was a lawman, and I know how to do this. And Paul is as good with a gun as any I've ever seen. However, this is just like any other battle we've been in and we need to know what we'll be facing. Charles had one slave that more or less ran the place. In fact, when Henry was a young man, he ran off and I had to find him and bring him back. We got to know each other some and if he's still here, I think he'll talk to me."

Dan spoke, "If he ran off once, why would he still be here? I'll bet most of the folks around here, including the slaves, know the war is over or soon will be."

Matt said, "Henry ran off because of a woman he loved. Charles had sold some of his slaves to a plantation over in Louisiana and she happened to be in that group. Like I said, Henry and I got to know each other on the trip back after I found him. When he told me his story, I told Charles and Charles bought her back. Henry was a natural leader and Charles didn't want to lose him. When the girl got back, Henry married her, they had two sons. I'm betting he's still here."

Carrie put her hand to her mouth and said, "How horrible. We didn't know much about slavery in our neck of the woods."

Dan said, "It's done now. But even if he is still here, what makes you think he will talk to you?"

Matt replied, "I don't know for sure. Paul, are you up for a little night infiltration? I know a back way into the slave quarters and we'll have to go tonight."

John said, "I'll go."

Matt said, "No, three would be too many. John, you stay here. What do you say, Paul?"

"Times wasting, Matt. Let's go." Paul said.

Matt said, "You guys wait for us right here. We should be back in less than two hours at most."

With that, Matt turned his horse east and motioned Paul to follow. That meant leaving the main trail and the two men started out. After about a mile through the woods, Matt turned back south and they rode for about a half mile before Matt pulled up and dismounted. He handed Paul his reins and said, "Okay, Paul, I need to go in on foot now. I know which one of those cabins Henry used to live at."

Paul objected, "Hey, I go with you. Two's better than one."

Matt said, "Maybe so, but we can't take our horses any closer. You stay ready and if you hear me holler or a gunshot, you bring the horses in a hurry. Henry knows me but he doesn't know you and two men coming in at night might spook him and he could set off an alarm. Bear with me, Paul, and let's do it my way."

Paul said, "Okay, that makes sense, I guess. But if you need me, you holler or shoot and I'll be there."

Matt's voice had a touch of humor when he replied, "After four years of war together, I kind of know that, Paul."

Matt left Paul and set off walking as quietly as he could toward the slave quarters. The houses were dark, but the moon helped to identify where he thought Henry stayed. He approached the house as quietly as he could and hesitated at the door. This was going to be the touchiest part of the whole operation. He hoped Henry would remember him.

He tapped lightly on the door and waited. There was no response. He started to hit the door a little harder when he felt what appeared to be the barrel of a gun prod him in the back. A voice said, "What you come sneaking around here at night, white man? You don' belong here."

Matt didn't move. He said, "I hope that's you, Henry. My name is Matthew Dixon, Used to be the sheriff here. You and I came back from Louisiana one time together. I was a friend of Charles Babineaux. Remember?"

The pressure in his back remained firm. "I do remember you, Mr. Dixon, but that don' explain what you be doing here this time of night."

"Henry, I went to war and just got back. The South lost and you will be hearing about it soon. However, I've been tracking some really bad men that have killed some people and I think they might be staying at the plantation. These men have got to answer for some bad things and I'm hoping you'll give me some information to help me catch them. Will you listen to me?"

Henry said, "Was one of them Caleb Johnson? Used to be the overseer here for Mistuh Babineaux."

I don't know what his name is, Henry, but the man I'm after has four or five men with him and they are all bad."

Matt felt the pressure release on his back and he took a chance and turned around. The black man facing him had a round stick that Matt figured was the gun he felt. He said, "Damn, Henry, you scared the hell out of me with that stick."

Henry said, "Mr. Dixon, I don't like white men and I don't trust them, that includes you. But you did me a good turn one time and I will tell you that Caleb Johnson came back a few days ago with some men. They be staying at the big house with Mistuh Babineaux's sister. That man was pure mean before he left but he was always careful about how he acted around Mistuh Babineaux. He's talked Miss Babineaux, Mistuh Babineaux's sister, into hiring him again Most of us ain't going to take it and I 'spect we will be leaving fore long."

Mr. Babineaux's sister, where is his wife?" Matt asked.

Henry replied, "She left some time ago when we heard Mr. Babineaux was dead. Don' know where she went."

Matt's heart sank when he heard that Charles' widow had left, but he said, "Henry, how many men are in that house?"

Henry said, "Five, including that Caleb Johnson."

Matt said, "Henry, you've been a big help. Tomorrow there's going to be a fight. Try your best to keep your folks away from the house, because all hell is going to break loose. One more thing, those men will not be here after tomorrow, you can take my word on it if you want to. But things are really unsettled everywhere around here. There are going to be some big changes and the slaves are free, although some white folks might not want to agree. My advice is just to sit tight for awhile and go ahead and work this farm for your food."

Henry smiled for the first time. He said, "Well, Mr. Dixon, we kind of figured that out for ourselves but I appreciate you telling me. And I hope you win in the morning cause we already knew they was bad men. We just didn't know if anyone else knowed it."

Matt said, "Good luck, Henry, keep your family and friends safe and I hope things get better for you."

"Thank you, Mr. Dixon. The Good Lord promised better times ahead for all of us." And with that he disappeared back around the corner of the house.

### Chapter Sixteen

Matt and Paul made their way back to the others. Matt said, "Looks like our men are here. Let me ask you something, Dan. If we manage to take these men alive, what are you supposed to do with them?"

Dan said, "My orders are to take them to the first Union troops I can find. There they will be given a hearing, not a trial. It will be a short hearing under martial law and they will be hanged, based on Carrie's eye witness testimony."

Matt said, "That's about what I figured and it's what they deserve. Listen up folks, and let me tell you what I've got worked out. Paul, in the morning at first light, you will be at the back of the house. John, you will be out in front but behind something that will protect you and cover me with that repeater. Dan, if you would, and I know that I can't give you orders, but I would appreciate it if you could stay further back with Carrie and protect her. I will go to the front door again, and ask to see Laura except this time I won't take no for an answer. Paul, if you hear a shot you go in the back and try to cover me."

Paul laughed and said, "Hey, Captain, I don't know how to tell you this but John and I are not in the army any more. You don't really give orders. That's a good plan except for a couple of things. One is you have been there once already and if they are from around here, they will recognize you as the ex-sheriff and that could tip them off a little. And there's one other thing. I don't want to hurt your feelings or anything, 'cause I know you're good, but in a gun fight, I'm better. A lot better. So we will go with your plan 'cept you'll be in the back and I'll go to the front door."

John burst out laughing and said, "Captain, Paul is right. This will have a lot better chance of working if Paul is up front. So I'm voting with Paul on this one."

Matt looked at the young man staring at him. He started to protest but saw the hard steel in Paul's eyes. He said, I don't like it but maybe you boys are right. Paul, be careful, I used to do this for a living."

Paul said, "I know, Matt, and I know you're probably good at it and it's been an honor to serve under you, so I didn't mean any disrespect. But I've been away from home for four years now and I want to see my Mom and Pop. We've been after these bastards for long enough. Dan here has already told us what will happen if they give up but I kind of think it's going to be over in the morning. Let's let them be careful."

At the first sign of the false dawn the group rode toward the plantation. They stopped about a hundred yards away and Matt asked Dan to stay there and protect Carrie. The three cavalry men left their horses and walked silently toward the plantation. At Matt's signal John stopped about thirty yards from the porch and found cover. Paul waited there while Matt continued on, swinging away from the house to the back side of it. After about five minutes, Paul nodded to John and then stuck out his hand. John grinned and ignored the hand and engulfed Paul with a big bear hug.

He whispered, "Be careful, Paul. I've seen you grow up these past few years and it would be a shame for you to get hurt now."

There was emotion in Paul's voice when he replied, "It's been a pleasure, First Sergeant. But we will have some coffee together in a few minutes and then I need to start home."

And with that, Paul checked the revolver in his holster and started walking toward the house. As he walked up the steps to the front porch, he let out a wild confederate scream and pulled his pistol. He beat on the door hard five times and then put the gun back in the holster and stepped back.

Less than two minutes later he saw the door open and a tall man with a pistol in his hand was standing there. Paul saw a second man with a rifle stand a little behind him.

Paul smiled and said. "Morning boys, you all got any coffee in here? Whoa, what the hell you got those guns for? You boys expecting trouble or something?"

The tall man cursed and said, "What the hell is the matter with you? What are you looking for anyway?"

Paul continued smiling, "I'm looking for five men that have been looting, raping, and killing all across the country. Gonna give 'em a chance to give up or the Union Army is going to hang 'em."

Paul saw the realization of what was going on cross both of the two men's faces and their guns started to come up. Paul's hand was fast and both men died right there. Paul kicked the door back and was rewarded when a bullet smashed into the door frame beside his head. He saw the man with the rifle stopped half way down the staircase and he was lining up for a second shot. The man never got the shot off as he took Paul's slug in the middle of his chest, falling across the stairway. Paul heard a lady screaming upstairs but before he could start up he heard a shot from the back of the house. Matt then came busting through a doorway with his pistol still smoking in his hands.

Matt said, "I got the one sleeping in the kitchen. Are you okay, Paul?"

Paul, said, "Yeah, but we still got one left unaccounted for and I just heard a woman scream upstairs."

Before either man could react a man appeared at the top of the stairs holding a cocked pistol to a woman's head. The man said, "Either of you move and this lady is going to die. Step back and don't move." The woman had a night dressing gown on and a terrified look on her face.

She said, "Please, do what he says."

Paul and Matt kept their pistols on the man as he walked the woman down the stairs. Paul stepped back and let them pass, there was no chance to get off a shot because the man's reaction could pull the trigger and kill the lady. The man turned his back to the front door, holding the lady in front of him. He backed out the door and suddenly was pushed hard forward, with no pistol in his hand.

John Combs said, "Damn, didn't think I was going to let you boys have all the fun, did you?" He entered the room with the pistol in his hand, trained on the man lying on the floor.

Matt rushed over to the nearly hysterical lady and said, "Laura, Laura, you're okay. I'm Matthew Dixon, used to be the sheriff here and a friend of Charles."

The woman looked at him and as recognition came, she stopped sobbing and said, "Oh, my God, Matthew, I'm so glad you're here."

Matt pushed back away from her but still held her and said, "Laura, the Confederacy is over. These men were deserters and they have looted, killed and worse all the way from Tennessee here. The Union Sergeant riding with us has a warrant for their arrest and they are going to be hanged, at least this one is. Did they hurt you?"

"No, but one of them worked here before the war. He said he could put this place on its feet again and I needed help so I listened. But he started to get so bossy I was having second doubts. Now I'm not sure what I'm going to do. The slaves will probably leave."

Matt said, "Maybe or maybe not, it's their choice now and all of you ex-slave holders are going to have to get used to it. But listen to me. Yes, they are free but that doesn't necessarily solve all their problems. They still have to eat. There is a man out there, Henry, that probably knows more about this place and what needs to be done than any man alive. Granted he might not know the financial aspects but as far as farming, I'll bet he's an expert. He also has a family to feed and the other slaves look up to him. If you talked to him like a human being and as a free man, I'll bet you could make a deal so that most of those folks would stay and work this plantation. Course, when the money comes in you'll have to share it with them. Your land, their work kind of thing. It's not what you had but it is an answer and to be truthful it is probably the way it should be."

Laura looked at him and said, "Matt, he is a Negra. Could you talk to Henry and see what he says?"

Matt said, "Nope, I suspect he knows he's black and I don't think that worries him much. Laura, I can be there as your friend and maybe give you some advice but you need to meet him and negotiate the deal. You also need to remember he is a free man and you need him and his folks as much as they need you. I'm not going to be here long, Laura. Hell, as a Confederate Officer I can't get my job back or even vote for that matter. In a few days, I'll probably head out to the territories and try to start over. Maybe try Arizona."

Matt turned his attention to Dan who had just entered with Carrie on his arm. "Sergeant, this man here is your prisoner. Thank your Commander for his courtesy in lending us your support in catching these men and good luck to you. I wouldn't take any chances with him if I were you."

The man was lying on the floor. He had heard every word of the conversation and realized he was going to be hanged. He suddenly rose to his knees and jumped for John's rifle. Dan pulled his pistol and shot him, dead. Dan calmly put the pistol back and said, "Thanks for the advice, Captain, I won't be taking any chances with him."

They all walked outside and Matt was not surprised to see Henry standing there with three other men. Matt said, "Morning, Henry. The trouble is cleared up here except for the burying."

Henry said, "We heard the shooting and came over. I hope you did what you said you was aiming to do?"

"Yep, and Miss. Laura here was hoping to talk to you today."

Henry said, "Good, I want to talk to her but first let me and my friends here bury this trash."

Matt said, "Thank you, Henry, I figured you were a good man."

Henry said, "I hoped you was too, Mr. Dixon, I mean Matt." And he smiled.

Goodbyes were said. John, Carrie and Dan were headed back north.

Paul was headed west to see his parents.

Matt went to talk to Carrie about the changes that were coming in her life. He also told Paul before he left that he might be seeing him in a few days but he had some things around here that he wanted to make sure started off right.

### Chapter Seventeen

Paul Mueller was sick of war. He was sick of blood and the sight of men dying while crying for mercy. He was sick of the sound of dying horses and he suspected he would hear their terrifying screams in his nightmares for a long time. He was twenty two years old and had endured four years of the most brutal civil war the country had ever known. He had by some miracle survived with no major wounds but the memories were something else. He and his comrades had known for a long time the war was not worth the price they had paid but they still had to fight and try to endure.

Then three weeks ago it was over. They were supposed to go home and pick up their lives as if it had never happened. That is if they still had a home. Paul had been riding for over two weeks across Louisiana and East Texas toward the Hill Country of Central Texas. Even though the actual fighting had not touched this part of the country, the war had left its mark on the land. With most of the men gone, the land was neglected and Paul suspected it would be a long time before it recovered.

His thoughts flickered toward his mother's hot cornbread, the sweet butter from her milk cows and his father's special way with a ham, smoked and hanging in the smokehouse. He had no way of writing to his parents to let them know he was on his way home or even that he was still alive. When he rode into the yard his mother and father would have their prayers answered. He was their only child.

The thought of home, waiting just ahead, coaxed a small smile and he bumped his horse gently with his heels to pick up the pace. He turned the horse onto the trail leading to his home and the smile disappeared from his face. Something was wrong, bad wrong. Brush had grown up and it was obvious that the trail had little use and no maintenance for some time. This was just not like his dad.

He rode around the last bend in the road and where he should have seen the house and barn, there was nothing there. The house and the barn had been burned to the ground leaving only charred remains. The surrounding area reeked of abandonment. Nothing was as he remembered. He leaned forward on the bay, his mind trying to grasp what he was seeing.

Then his eyes focused on the two wooden crosses beneath the old oak tree that once shaded the rear of the house. He could see the crosses were once painted white but the elements had done their work and the paint was faded, leaving only the weathered wood.

Paul dismounted and with his hat in his hand he led his horse slowly over to the graves.

Apprehension engulfed him as he knew what he was going to find. He did not feel the tears that appeared when he saw his mother's and father's names carved into each cross. His knees gave way and he dropped to the ground. He had seen a lot of death in the last four years but he was not ready for this. What could have happened?

Memories of the strained morning when he left four long years ago flooded his mind. He had felt no urgent need to defend slavery. However, he was born when Texas was a Republic and grew up thinking of himself as a Texan. When Texas joined the Confederacy, he made the decision to wear the grey to support his state.

But his folks were German immigrants and the oath of loyalty they swore to the United States meant everything to them. They, along with most of the other German settlers in central Texas, were ardent loyalists and could not conceive of being disloyal to a nation that had offered so much hope and opportunity to them. Paul's feelings about Texas and states' rights had put him in conflict with his parents and they had several uncomfortable discussions about the issue. Paul ultimately decided he would serve Texas.

Now all he could think of was how much he disappointed his parents. And for what, he thought? Looking at the graves, the knowledge that he would never see them again and they were gone forever meant that he could never make amends.

After a minute or two he raised his head and gazed around, still trying to comprehend what could have happened. Then his eyes focused on a small weathered sign nailed to the oak. The sign's faint markings were hard to make out. He walked up close and read the words.

Paul, come to our place, Walter.

Walter was his dad's younger brother. He and Paul's dad came to the country together from Germany as young men and both obtained adjacent parcels of land. They both married first generation German girls. They started their new lives together, determined to put the oppression of their old lives behind them. The uncle and his family were the closest neighbors and only lived another six miles or so down the road toward Mason. He mounted and after looking at the burned house once more, he put his heels to the horse and headed for his uncle's home.

Paul made good time and reined the horse in just before the entrance to his uncle's place. He did not want any more surprises and wanted a quick look-see before he continued. He saw a house and barn that was freshly painted with the surrounding grounds very well kept. There were several Rhode Island Red chickens wandering loose around the yard and a large mongrel dog with his hackles on end, looking at him suspiciously from the porch. He experienced a sudden jolt of remorse as he realized it looked very similar to the sight he had expected to see at his parents' place. He remembered the story of how his uncle helped his dad build the place where he grew up and then both brothers lived there together with their young wives until they could do the same thing at Walter's place.

The dog started barking when he urged his horse further into the yard and Paul saw a young man cautiously exiting the front door, watching him closely. Paul noticed the boy was taking a stance behind one of the rock pillars on the porch that would offer some protection in case Paul's intentions were aggressive. He had a rifle in his hand and while he was not actually pointing it at Paul, he held it at the ready. The young man appeared to be about seventeen or eighteen and as he rode closer, Paul recognized his younger cousin, Gunter Mueller. Gunter had been like a younger brother at one time and Paul was startled to realize the boy had grown into a young man while he was gone. The boy was now close to six feet tall and though he was slender, Paul could see the boy had the makings of a strong young man.

Despite his grief a small smile crossed Paul's face as he spoke, "What are you gonna do with that rifle, Gunter, you gonna shoot your cousin?"

The boy shushed the dog, lowered the rifle barrel and walked out into the front yard with a puzzled look on his face. He walked closer and then his face broke out into a wide smile when he recognized Paul. He hollered loudly over his shoulder, "Hey, Papa, Momma, Paul is back."

Gunter dropped the gun and ran to Paul as he came off the horse. His Aunt Hannah and Uncle Walter were coming through the door and down the porch steps. The four of them crowded together and everyone tried to hug at once. When finally Paul had a chance to ask, he choked out the words. "Uncle Walter, Aunt Hannah, what happened?" His aunt started to cry uncontrollably and turned away with her hands in her face. Paul could see that his uncle was also having a hard time dealing with his emotions.

His uncle controlled his voice and spoke slowly, "They were killed, Paul, murdered in cold blood. It happened over two years ago, nearly three years ago now, I guess. When they didn't come to church on a Sunday, Günter and I rode over to make sure they were okay. When we got there both were lying outside on the ground, shot, and the place had been burned to the ground. No one knows who did it and I don't believe the law worked very hard to find out. The place had been cleaned out. The old troubles between the Anglos and us still exist and when the war started it got even worse."

Paul shook his head in dismay. The war had cost him a lot in the last four years and for what? Now because his parents were German and had remained fiercely loyal to their adopted homeland, they were gone. It did not make any sense. He should have stayed home and taken care of them.

Paul also knew his aunt and uncle were loyalists and while he wondered briefly how they felt about his fighting for the South, their reception told him they still considered him family.

After visiting a few more minutes Paul agreed to have supper and with his relatives' urging, decided to spend a few nights with them to think about what he would do next. He needed time because he was not ready to make any decisions about whether he would rebuild his home place.

After a supper that his aunt had taken special pains to prepare, the family sat around the table catching up while she cleared the table. When his uncle got up and went over to help his wife, Gunter caught Paul's eye and nodded his head toward the door. Paul interpreted the slight movement to mean that his cousin wanted to meet him outside. It was obvious that Gunter wanted to talk with him away from the earshot of his parents.

When they were outside, he asked Paul to take a walk. The boy was strangely quiet, something obviously worrying him while he led Paul down toward the barn and away from the house.

His voice was intense when he finally spoke, "Paul, I think I know who killed Uncle Horst and Aunt Gisela. I couldn't say anything at the time or even now because Papa would have gone after them and they probably would have killed him, too. I decided to wait until you came home so you and I could handle what has to be done."

"What are you talking about kid? Who did it? How did you find out?"

Gunter said, "I think it was the Mathews brothers, John and Earl. At least the word was out that they were bragging about it in Mason. They went out to rob your Papa but Uncle Horst must have surprised them and they shot him. And when he fell, your Momma must have run to him and picked up his old rifle. I heard that they were bragging they had to kill her too."

A cold rage overwhelmed Paul. When the war ended he had hoped his killing days were over, but maybe they weren't. He instantly made up his mind that he was not going to wait. In fact, he wasn't even going back into the house. It was better that his aunt and uncle knew nothing about what he was going to do.

He told his cousin to tell his folks that he had made a sudden decision to go on into Mason and he would see them later.

"Paul, there are two of them, please let me go with you." And then the boy's voice became a little softer, almost pleading. "You do understand why I couldn't tell Papa, don't you, Paul?"

Paul relaxed for a second and turned to the boy, putting his hand on his shoulder when he spoke. "Sure, I do. You did exactly the right thing, Gunter, don't worry about it. And thanks for your offer to help, but this is something I need to take care of myself. Help me get my horse saddled and tell your folks I decided to ride on into town and I will see them later."

Paul mounted quickly and started back to the main road and turned the bay toward Mason. He did not want to wait and have his aunt and uncle try and talk him out of going. It would just be a waste of time.

After about an hour's ride, he rode into town and his memory led him directly to the town marshal's office. It was already after dark and, as he expected, the office was closed. A cowboy walking by the office told him that he could probably find the marshal in the Golden Chance Saloon located two blocks away.

Paul started to walk the two blocks and then decided he wanted to keep his horse closer. He did not know what he was going to run into, but he knew he was not going to back away from anything and he wanted answers in a hurry. Paul rode the two blocks down the dusty street, passing the storefronts that lined the way and pulled his mount to a halt in front of the saloon. He tied the horse to the hitching post and as a precaution, spun the cylinder on his pistol to make sure that it was fully loaded and ready for action. He replaced the pistol on his hip and started for the saloon.

###

#

About The Authors

Russ McNeill is a retired telecommunications manager whose career took him to Arizona, Colorado, and Texas. He is also the author of _The Cochise Myth._ He currently lives with his wife, Vashti, in the Hill Country of Central Texas.

Kelly Woolley divides her time between Texas and New Mexico. She and her husband, Eddie, spent many years in the real estate development business in and around Austin.

Author's Notes

We hope you have enjoyed Riders Coming. If you did, you can follow the further adventures of Paul Mueller and Matt Dixon in the exciting full length novel, Comes A Rider. We have included the prologue and first three chapters of Comes A Rider. To learn more about the authors and their works, visit our website at www.russmcneill.com.

Comes A Rider Prologue

Paul paused for a moment at the entrance to the saloon then walked through the swinging doors and stopped two steps into the room. His eyes moved over the room as he appraised the situation. It was rowdy with loud voices of men who were drinking and having a good time. Someone was playing an off key piano and bar girls circulated around the crowd, trying to entice the men to buy more whiskey. He glanced over to the long bar and saw a man standing there with a beer in his hand. The man wore a black western shirt with a new black hat and he had a badge pinned to his vest. Paul felt the lawman's eyes on him as he came through the door.

Paul was not overly concerned; he figured the man probably noticed all of the strangers coming into town. He ignored the lawman and continued perusing the room and was rewarded when he recognized the two Mathews brothers sitting at a table playing draw poker with three other men. He had known the two men briefly before the war. They were Anglo immigrants to Texas and had belonged to a crowd that had always hated the German Dutchies.

Paul walked over and stood on the opposite side of the table, facing the two brothers. One of the brothers glanced up but did not seem to recognize Paul.

The man said, "You gonna stand there and gawk, stranger, or do you wanna play? We can make an open seat if you got money." The other men at the table guffawed at the remark.

Paul's eyes immediately went to the watch chain hanging on the man's vest and he had an idea of what was on the other end of it. He said, "Oh, I might sit in for a hand or two. What time do you have, partner?"

The man's face showed his impatience with the question but when he pulled out the watch to check the time, Paul went cold. It was his father's watch. It had been brought over from the old country and his dad always told him that someday it would be his. It still will be mine, he thought.

Paul didn't say a word but turned away from the table and walked purposely to the bar and to the man with the badge. He did not recognize him. Paul introduced himself and as soon as the man spoke, his accent gave him away, a Yankee. Probably a damn carpetbagger, Paul thought.

Paul went straight to the point. He told the marshal he was just home from the war and had found that his mother and father had been murdered. He said he heard the Mathews brothers had been bragging about it and one of them was now carrying his father's watch. He wanted them arrested and charged. The marshal's eyes immediately cut across the room to the Mathews men, telling Paul he knew who they were.

The marshal looked back at Paul and spoke, "Mister, that's a plumb serious charge. You come on down to the office tomorrow morning and you can fill out a complaint. But let's not have any trouble tonight."

Paul's rage was burning but he kept his voice under control. It was as hard as steel, but not too loud as he spoke, "I'll file the complaint but I want 'em locked up now. That's my dad's watch the man is wearing."

The marshal's voice showed his irritation. "Listen mister, I'm telling you upfront that we got law and order now and you rebs have got to learn to respect it. You come on down tomorrow, file a complaint and we'll see if there is any merit to it."

Paul had heard enough; the man was not going to do anything. He deliberately stepped forward, violated the marshal's space, and tapped the man's chest with his finger as he snarled, "Okay, if you're not going to do anything about it, I'll take care of it myself. But you stay out of it. I mean what I say, do you understand?"

Without waiting for a reply, Paul wheeled from the lawman and walked directly over to the men at the table. He positioned himself directly in front of them again and this time his voice was soft but deadly.

"My name is Mueller. That's my father's watch you're wearing. I understand you two pieces of trash burned my folks' place down and shot my mother and father. Is that true?"

All of the men rose to their feet and the other three backed quickly away from the table, leaving only the Mathews brothers. The noise in the room stopped immediately and the other tables around the two men cleared quickly. The two brothers glanced at each other and Paul could almost see the wheels turning in their heads as they figured their odds: two to one. They stood there staring until one of them looked at his brother and grinned before turning back to Paul.

The man said, "Well, now, Mr. Mueller, a lot of the Dutchies around these parts died during the war, good riddance for the most part. If your ma and pa got it, too bad, but it probably served 'em right. They didn't belong here anyway and they proved it when they sided with the Yanks. If you ask me..."

Paul did not even try to control the white anger flowing through his body. He raised his left hand to cut the man off. His voice was still low but hard. "I didn't ask, but I don't recall either of you boys going with us to fight for the South. But it really don't matter now because you two are going to die right here if you don't drop those gun belts right now." When the men hesitated, Paul's voice became as forceful as earlier it had been low. He bellowed, "Now, damn it!" Paul saw the surprise and the doubt appear in the men's eyes as they contemplated their chances. Suddenly, as if his last word galvanized them into action, both men simultaneously reached for their guns.

Paul was quicker; his hand was like a blur as he drew his pistol and put a forty-four slug in each man's chest before either one could clear leather. Both men fell to the floor, knocking chairs over on their way down. After the two deafening blasts the room remained eerily silent as Paul stood and looked at the men for a moment. Then his eyes moved deliberately around the room and lingered on the marshal for a moment before he looked back at the men lying on the floor. He walked over, jerked his dad's watch from the dead man's vest and put it in his pocket.

When Paul was kneeling the marshal took the opportunity to walk over to him, but was a little late. Paul rose to face him. The marshal saw the cold look in Paul's eyes and was smart enough to keep his hand clear of his gun. His tone of voice no longer carried the disdainful inflection and instead was very respectful as he said, "Mister, that was fast. Those two men never had a chance. Now, you are going to come on down with me and you'll be held in custody until we can get an inquest to see if it was self defense or not."

Paul looked at the man and laughed, but with no touch of humor. He knew what kind of justice he could expect from a Yankee court. Probably from the back of a horse, and a rope. He looked around the room to see if anyone would challenge him; no one was moving.

Paul kept his voice even and said, "Everyone here, you saw these two men draw first. Remember it."

The room was quiet and no one made a move, but he was not going to take any chances. He backed slowly toward the entrance and out the door, his hand held just above his pistol. He moved to his horse. He was headed south for Matamoras, Mexico.

### Comes A Rider, Chapter One

The solitary horseman riding the big bay sat the saddle easily as if he knew what he was doing. The man was larger than most at a little over six feet two and while there was not an ounce of fat on him, he probably weighed in at about one hundred and eighty five pounds or so. His fair skin was sun darkened from spending many hours outdoors. Friendly, gray slated eyes, dark brown hair, and an easy smile gave his face the appearance of a man who invited trust. At the same time, he looked like a man who could take care of himself. His facial hair hinted he had been on the trail a few days.

Sam Smith thoughtfully rubbed his hand through his unkempt beard. He was having a spell of nostalgia. He pulled the old German watch from his watch pocket and noted he was a little over three hours north of the border which put him well back into the United States. As Sam thought about it he realized that, until this morning, he had not been north of the border for ten years. It was a strange feeling, one that he wasn't used to. While living in Mexico, he heard there was a warrant out for the arrest of a Paul Mueller in Texas but that was nearly ten years ago. He changed his name to Sam Smith when he crossed the border after the incident in Mason. The events of one night had changed his life forever and he had come to regret it. He shook his head as he remembered how cock sure of himself he had been as a youth.

After a long year of fighting as a mercenary for the Austrian Emperor Maximilian he found himself on the losing side of yet another unpopular war, but then found work as the personal bodyguard for a rich Mexican landowner where the money was good. Better than very good in fact, and he now had enough money in his saddlebags to maybe do whatever he wanted for a while. All he had to do was figure out exactly what that was, he thought ruefully.

He found himself growing tired of Mexico and making his living with a gun. He never killed in cold blood without giving his opponent a chance but he was so fast, he knew it wasn't much of a chance. The killings started to bother him more and more as he grew older. He also learned that no matter how fast he was, on any given day someone could be faster. He found himself thinking about going home to the States and trying to find a way to make a living without using a gun.

He knew going back to Texas probably wasn't a good idea so he had started thinking about Arizona and finally made a decision to give it a try. Maybe he could find some land somewhere, where no one knew his past, and try to build something. After ten years, he knew he was a changed man. From time to time he wondered if the warrant for his arrest in Texas was still active.

Sam's musings about his past were cut short. His horse was tired from their long journey and Sam allowed the horse to move slowly with his head down. The horse suddenly stopped, jerked his head erect and snorted. They had been moving leisurely through the foothills on the western side of a mountain range which ran north to south. In the Mexican border town of Agua Prieta Sam heard that the mountains were called the Chiricahuas but pronounced Cherry Cows or something like that. He also knew he was in the heart of Apache territory where a man could lose his life quickly.

He realized with a start how quiet it had become and that none of the birds were chirping as they had been all morning. He leaned forward and moved his left arm to pat the big bay's neck to calm him. Later, he figured the move saved his life. He heard a sound like a swish and was suddenly slammed violently from his horse. He hit the ground hard on his right side, aware of an excruciating pain on the left side of his body. He reached over with his right hand and found that an arrow had penetrated his left arm, and it hurt like hell.

He had ridden directly into an ambush. He did not know where the attackers were and more importantly, how many he was facing. Sam tried to move his left arm and found with an effort that he could, except that it caused even more pain. Maybe if he was lucky the arrow had missed the bone and was not going to cause major damage. He decided to lie perfectly still until he could take stock of his surroundings. A quick glance around showed he had fallen next to a large rock, which he hoped might provide some protection if he could figure out where the enemy was. He was also aware that the area was heavy with scrub oaks and manzanita bushes which made it difficult for his assailants to see him. He figured this meant they would have to get close to finish him off. His rifle was still with his horse but he knew he had six shots in his pistol and if the Indians did not have guns, he still had a chance. It just depended on how many of them were out there.

Sam heard a quail whistle somewhere up in front of him and in spite of his apprehension, he smiled to himself when he heard an answering call over on his left. How dumb did they think he was, anyway? He lay still and after a few seconds he heard another call, except this one was closer and he figured they were getting ready to come in for the kill. When he heard the soft footsteps very close to him, he rose up and drew his pistol. A painted Apache brave with a knife in his hand was about ten feet from him and when he saw Sam rise, he charged with the knife held low in front of him. Sam snapped off a quick shot and saw the bullet find its mark, hitting the Indian in the shoulder and dropping the man in his tracks. Sam knew the impact of the slug would take the Indian out of the fight so he pivoted quickly back toward the direction of the answering quail call.

As he finished the turn, he saw two other Indians less than twenty feet away racing straight for him. He thumbed the hammer back on his pistol and pointed the weapon straight at one of the men...but he didn't shoot. Both men were dead and evidently they both knew it.

They stopped their charge about ten feet in front of Sam and stood straight up as if they were waiting for the inevitable. Sam could see both of the men's eyes clearly and he was shocked to realize there was no fear in either man's eyes.

Sam realized at that moment that he had to make a choice. He could kill these two men, but he didn't have to; if he was going to change, this was the time. He kept the barrel of his pistol trained on both men and then pointed to their wounded comrade who was lying on the ground, moaning softly.

Sam said, "Boys, I don't know if either of you fellers speak English or not but you had better pick up your friend here and get him some help before he bleeds to death." Sam thought he noticed a fleeting look of amazement on the shorter man's face but he could not be sure as it was only for a second before the stoic countenance returned.

The man said something in a guttural language to his companion and pushed him in the direction of the wounded man. They picked up their companion and Sam watched as they disappeared down the trail.

Now, Sam thought, he had two problems. One, he wanted to catch his horse before the Indians thought about it, if he wasn't already too late and, two, he had an arrow sticking out of his left arm. First things first, he wasn't going to catch anything with the arrow in his arm.

He pulled off his shirt as carefully as he could and when he examined the wound he realized the stone arrowhead had penetrated most of the way through the arm and the tip was actually showing on the underside of his bicep. He grasped the shaft and tried to pull it out but the sharp waves of pain shooting through his body told him he was not going to remove it that way. The arrowhead was apparently barbed and would not move.

Sam thought about it for a second and realized he did not have an option. He grabbed the shaft again and this time instead of pulling backward he took a deep breath and forced the arrow forward. Waves of pain rolled through him as the wound still hurt terribly, but not as badly as before. Sam saw the arrowhead come through and clear his arm. He stopped to catch his breath for a minute and then retrieved his knife from his pocket. He tried to ignore the pain when the arrow jiggled as he worked to remove the stone arrowhead from the shaft. He finally worked it loose and after resting again, he then grabbed the shaft on the other side, took a deep breath and pulled as hard as he could. Again the pain was there but not as bad as before. The shaft came out cleanly.

Sam knew he should clean the two wounds quickly but first he wanted to find his horse. Every cent he had saved was in the saddlebags on the horse and now that the immediate danger was past he wanted it in his possession again. Sam started walking down the trail and had traveled less than two hundred yards when he spotted his horse grazing in the shade next to a large cottonwood tree. He approached cautiously and by talking very gently and soothingly, he was able to capture the horse. He checked the saddlebags and was relieved to find the money still there. He grabbed his water bag and cleaned and bandaged the wound as well as he could. He figured he was still several miles south of his next stop at Fort Bowie and he hoped to find a doctor there who could properly care for the arm.

### Comes A Rider, Chapter Two

Beth Mueller felt tired from the constant jolting of the stagecoach. The trip was already over six hundred miles and she knew she was still at least fifty or sixty miles from her final destination. She was having second thoughts about her decision to make the journey and the dust and constant jostling were not helping her state of mind. What could she have been thinking to leave her home and move to this country she knew nothing about?

The man sitting across from her on the stage spoke again. "Where did you say you were going, Mrs. Mueller?" He had boarded the stage at the last Butterfield stop in Lordsburg and had made a pest of himself during the whole way. Fortunately, she didn't think they were too far from the next stop at Fort Bowie and he would be leaving the stage.

"The San Pedro Valley, Arizona," she replied curtly in an attempt to curtail further conversation. She did not really expect it to work, but she could hope. From the time the man had boarded the stage, he chattered incessantly.

"Why in the world would a pretty lady like you want to go to the San Pedro Valley? There are not many towns up in that part of the territory; in fact, there is not much there at all."

"I'm going to teach school, actually to start a school in a new community there. A place called Benton Springs," she said, hoping that would be the end of the conversation.

"Benton Springs, you say. Yeah, seems I have heard of it. I recollect that a man named Tom Benton divided a lot of land over there into sections and sold them to folks back East. A bunch of Dutchies from Texas moved up there together, I believe. Why would you want to go to a place like that?"

Beth sighed before she replied. "My husband was of German descent, a Dutchy as some people call them. He was killed in Texas and his parents moved out to Arizona to make a new start. They've sent for me and offered me this job. There, now you have it, so if you don't mind I think I'll shut my eyes and try to get a nap before we reach Fort Bowie."

Her voice must have shown her irritation. The man's response was a little stiff as he said, "Sure, ma'am. No offense about the Dutchy remark and I surely didn't mean to pry but was just trying to pass time."

She forced a smile. "And I'm sorry I'm not much company. It's just that I have a lot on my mind. I didn't mean to be curt but I think I need a nap."

She closed her eyes but did not sleep. She had made a big decision to move out here and she hoped it was the right one. The Mason County troubles or the "Hoodoo Wars", as some people were calling them, had gone on since before the Civil War and now, ten years later, the tensions still ran high. As an Anglo girl who dared to fall in love and marry a German, she had friends on both sides but that only seemed to make the problems worse.

Then her husband was gunned down in an altercation involving an old family quarrel. The assailant had a brother in the Texas Rangers and was not prosecuted. She had to make a choice of which side to take. At first, she had gone back to her own people. However, some of them could not get over the fact that she married a German and she came to realize they would never entirely accept her again.

When she received the letter from her deceased husband's parents offering her a chance to start life over in a new territory where the ethnic tensions had not taken hold, she decided to accept the job. She had agonized over the decision for some time but there was no turning back now. She needed to stop second guessing herself and make the best of whatever lay ahead.

Beth opened her eyes and realized she had dozed off. They were stopping at the Butterfield station just outside of Fort Bowie. She knew she was in Arizona now. The driver pulled the stage up to the station and dismounted to open the door for Beth and her traveling companion. The man said, "Well, this is where I will be leaving you. Best of luck to you and your new job."

"Thank you and good luck to you, too." Beth was a little embarrassed that she had ridden sixty miles with the gentleman and she had not even gotten his name or asked what he was doing in this part of the country.

The driver spoke, "There is a hot meal inside and accommodations for the night. We will be leaving right after sunup tomorrow and should make Benton Springs late tomorrow evening. It will be a long trip so try to get a good night's sleep."

### ***

Sam reined his horse up to the sentry station and saw the guard dressed in the blue uniform he had fought against for four years. It brought back unpleasant memories but he knew he needed to get over them. The sentry was too young to have fought in the war and even if he had, it wouldn't be personal now. Sam raised his arm and spoke to the sentry. "Howdy, it's a mite hot today," Sam smiled as he spoke and was rewarded with a smile back.

"Sure is, say what kind of accent is that, and what happened to your arm?" The sentry asked.

Sam's smile widened at the east coast boy's own accent, "Didn't know I had an accent but I guess it could be part Texan, maybe part German, and possibly a touch of Mexican. I've been living down south for a spell. As for my arm, I had a little Indian trouble between here and the border earlier today. Didn't know the Apaches were riled up."

"Riled up? That's putting it mildly, stranger. Geronimo is on the warpath again. He took some braves and jumped the reservation up at San Carlos and has the whole territory in an uproar. You're lucky to still have your hair if it was him and his bunch you tangled with." Then the sentry saw the bandage and the makeshift sling Sam had rigged for his arm. He continued on, "Say, you better have Captain Hunt, he's the post doctor, look at that arm before it gets infected."

"Aiming to do just that, trooper. How do I find this doctor?" Sam asked.

The trooper told Sam how to find the army doctor. Sam rode slowly into the fort and followed the trooper's instructions to the building that Sam surmised served as the post infirmary. The doctor turned out to be an affable sort who cleansed the wounds on each side of Sam's arm with an antiseptic and then bandaged them tightly. He put Sam's arm in a sling to minimize the movement. He told Sam he had been extremely lucky in that all he had was a flesh wound and if he kept it clean and immobilized for a few days, he should be okay. When Sam asked how much he owed, the doctor told him there would be no charge. He explained that he treated civilians because there was no other medical help within sixty miles. Sam insisted he take five dollars, suggesting that the man could buy something pretty for his wife. When Sam asked the doctor where he could get a good store bought meal and a bed to sleep in, the doctor smiled and told him to try the Butterfield station just outside the post.

Sam rode to the station, dismounted and tied his horse to the hitching post in front. He removed his saddlebags and carried them in the front door, stopping to let his eyes get used to the darkened room and to size up the occupants. He noticed two young cowboys, obviously ranch hands, who looked as if they had just come in from the range. They were wolfing down two large steaks with some homemade biscuits and beans. The meal looked good to Sam.

Then he noticed a very attractive blonde woman in her mid-twenties, who was sitting by herself, trying to ignore the noisy cowboys at the next table. Sam saw her glance up at him and then she stared for a couple of seconds before she looked away. Sam guessed that she was about five feet six or so, slender, with a very pretty face. She was dressed conservatively and Sam figured she had been traveling for a spell. She reminded him of the girls back home in Texas.

A middle aged matronly looking woman came out from a back room and noticed him standing there. "Help you, cowboy?" she asked pleasantly.

"Yes, ma'am, I need a place to bathe and clean up a bit, then one of those big steaks and if you have it, I'd purely enjoy a real bed to sleep in tonight. Like to stable my horse and get him some oats if it's possible."

She laughed and said, "Glad to hear you want that bath. Don't know if you know it or not, cowboy, but you're a mite gamey. 'Pears you may have been on the trail for a spell?"

Sam found himself blushing. He glanced over at the young lady and thought he saw her trying to hide a smile. No wonder she had stared at him, he probably smelled like a bear. "Yes, ma'am, I surely have and if you will show me where the water is, I'll try to take care of it."

The lady told him to take his horse over to the stable and her husband, the stationmaster, would take care of the animal and show him a tub where he could take a bath. Sam quickly left the room and did as the lady told him. After he had his horse taken care of, he bathed and put his other shirt on and returned to the station for his steak.

When he re-entered the room he found that the young cowboys had finished their meal and had moved over to the young lady's table. He noticed one was about six feet four and over two hundred pounds without any fat on him. The other was a little shorter and probably would go about one seventy or so. The cowboys were carrying, but it was obvious they were not gun hands.

The cowboys had left their table but had evidently just pulled their chairs over to the girl's table and were trying to engage her in conversation. Nothing wrong with that, he thought, but then he noticed that the lady did not look comfortable with the situation.

His first reaction was that it was none of his business and he suspected the young lady could take care of herself. He seated himself at the table the two cowboys had vacated and when the host lady came in to take his order he noticed the concern in her eyes as she looked at the two men.

Then one of the men must have said something particularly offensive to the young lady because she suddenly reached across and slapped his face angrily. The other cowboy laughed uproariously but it just made the offender mad because he suddenly reached across and grabbed the young lady's wrist. As soon as he'd done this he found himself looking down the big barrel of a forty-four pistol that was cocked and pointed straight between his eyes.

"Whoa, hold on here," his partner exclaimed, rising up out of his chair. "Charley didn't mean nothing, we were just trying to have some fun with the little lady."

Sam smiled, but it wasn't friendly. "Good, cause that's all I'm doing is having some fun. And it's going to get a whole lot funnier if your friend here doesn't apologize to this lady right now."

The man tore his eyes from the barrel of the gun and looked up at the coldest eyes he had ever seen, staring right at him. He slowly let go of the woman's arms. Sam knew the young cowboy realized he had made a mistake, but the boy's ego couldn't let him back down without making some type of show. The cowboy found his voice, "Sure, it's easy to be bad and show off to the lady when you have the drop on a man. Wonder if you would be so tough in a fair fight."

Sam relaxed and grinned, and this time the grin was friendly. "You're absolutely right, Amigo. Course with two of you and my arm in a sling, I'm not sure what you consider a fair fight. But fair is fair and you are right, I did get the drop on you by surprise. Tell you what, why don't you stand up and you can show us how bad you are."

The man didn't like the way Sam was grinning but he had opened his mouth and there was no backing down. He stood slowly and watched as Sam holstered his pistol again and removed his hand from the handle. And then there was a blur and the pistol was back in Sam's hand, pointed right at the cowboy's stomach with the hammer cocked.

Sam laughed as he spoke and again holstered his pistol. "Uh oh, you weren't ready again, were you? Well, if you're still hell bent on dying right now, cowboy, this time you go first, reach for that pistol." Sam still had his eyes boring into the cowboy.

The cowboy's face visibly blanched, turning pale as he realized how close he was to dying. He turned very slowly to the young lady and spoke, "Ma'am, I am very sorry if I offended you and I would be pleased if you would accept my apology and let me and my partner ride out of here. We have a long way to go."

The young lady nodded her head before she spoke, "You should be ashamed of yourself. I strongly suggest you get out of here while you're still alive." Both cowboys were out the door in a flash.

The young lady turned to Sam and spoke, "You wouldn't have shot those men, would you?"

"No, I surely didn't want to, ma'am, but with my arm in a sling there wasn't much option but to handle it the way I did. Those were pretty big old boys. I really wasn't trying to show off but I figured if they knew what they were up against, they might change their attitude a mite."

"Well, thank you, Mister...? I thought they were harmless at first, but the one guy just kept getting more aggressive. I really didn't know what I was going to do and I guess I slapped him before I thought it through. I'm glad you were here but I am also glad no one was killed."

Sam just smiled and sat back down at his own table. He was surprised when she spoke again. She said, "My name is Beth Mueller, I noticed you didn't mention your name."

"Smith, Sam Smith is my name," he said. But then he couldn't help himself, he spoke again. "Mueller, you say, knew some Muellers one time in Texas. What part of the country are you from?"

"I'm from a place that's called Loyal Valley now. My maiden name was Johnson but I married a Mueller," she replied.

Sam was startled, "Johnson, Beth Johnson? Did you have a brother named Sid? Served in the Confederacy." Sam looked at the lady closely and then smiled. "Were you by chance called Sissy when you were young?"

"Not when I could stop it, I wasn't. And yes, my brother Sid was killed in the war. Did you know him?"

"Yes, ma'am, I did. In fact, I knew Sid well. He saved my life and was one of my best friends. What's your husband's name?"

"My deceased husband's name was Gunter."

"Oh, my God!" Sam thought. A look of shock swept over his face as he realized his young cousin was dead. It took a moment but he suddenly knew he was on very dangerous ground. He had never told anyone his real name and didn't want to start now, but this was Gunter's wife. He couldn't let it go.

"I was real close to Günter for a long time, and it grieves me sorely to hear he's passed. He was a good man and you have my condolences."

Beth looked at the man sitting at the next table and was struck by the resemblance to her late husband's family. She had a sudden thought and she realized why he looked familiar when he first came in. She blurted out, "Were you by chance Günter's cousin, Mr....?"

Before she could finish, Sam interrupted her. "Smith, ma'am, Sam Smith, and please remember it, but like I said, Günter and I were very close and I was also close to your brother; in fact we went to war together. Günter was too young to go with us, thank God."

The woman slowly nodded her head as she spoke. "I completely understand, Mr. Smith, and you have nothing to worry about from me. What happened to your parents was horrible, something similar happened to Günter. In fact, that's why I am traveling out here. I know you remember your...I mean Günter's father, Walter?"

Sam realized she knew his identity. He started a smile at the thought of his dad's younger brother and then quickly scowled, "Don't tell me Walter's gone, too?"

Beth smiled. "No, he was one of the smart ones. He led several of the German families and even some of the Anglos that were tired of the feuding, to find a new beginning out here. He wants to establish a place where the ethnic differences can be forgotten or at least respected so neighbors do not kill neighbors. I've come out here to start their school and to be the teacher."

They talked for a while longer and Sam caught up on what had gone on in the Hoodoo Wars. He realized he could never go back to Texas but he really didn't have any reason to now, anyway. There was no family left. The conversation came very easily between the two and lasted longer than either had intended. She was reluctant to tell him how Gunter had died except that it was in a gunfight and she did not feel comfortable talking about it yet. He tried to respect her feelings for Gunter's sake but he told himself he would find out what happened.

He found himself telling the lady about his dreams of starting over someplace and maybe even building a small ranch. The lady told him that Gunter had grown to be a fine young man and that they had fallen in love and decided to be married in spite of her family's feelings about Gunter's German heritage. They talked long into the evening and it was as if neither wanted it to end. They finally said goodnight and Beth went to the one single room the station had for guests while Sam went to another larger room which was set up as a bunkhouse.

There were no other guests in the bunkhouse and Sam had it to himself. He had time to think. Beth was the first person Sam had been with from home for a long time. In fact as he thought about it, she was the only person. Meeting her brought back memories of his family and his past that he had not allowed himself to think about in years. He was saddened over the loss of Gunter but maybe he would look up his Uncle Walter. He had to go someplace. Walter was his dad's younger brother and Sam suddenly felt that he wanted to see his aunt and uncle again.

### ***

The Apache war chief Geronimo only stood about five feet six or seven inches tall but no one would ever think of him as a small man. He had narrow hips but strong shoulders that were extremely powerful. He also had the overdeveloped muscular legs, a characteristic many of his people had developed from walking and running over the southwestern part of the United States and Mexico known as Apacheria. His most noticeable facial feature was the thin slash of a mouth but the rest of his features showed the strength of character and leadership he was known for. While not born into a place of leadership in the Apache tribe, his craftiness and his intelligence as well as his fearlessness and hatred of both the Mexicans and the Americans had let him rise to the position of War Chief.

Geronimo looked eastward across the desert, toward the mountains the Mexicans, and now the White Eyes, called Dos Cabezas. The mountains were called Dos Cabezas from the Spanish words "two heads" because of the two enormous peaks that sat side by side and capped the mountain range they dominated. He was looking in that direction but he was not looking at the mountains.

He was staring intently at the small dust cloud stirring lazily in the distance. He knew it was the White Eyes stagecoach from Fort Bowie on its run to the town of Benton Springs. He glanced back to his warriors to see which of the young ones would spot the dust. He was gratified to see that Taza, son of their great chief Cochise, had also seen the dust and was pointing it out to the other warriors that Geronimo had chosen for the raid. Taza would grow into the leadership role he would inherit, as he should, but in the meantime Geronimo, as the White Eyes and Mexicans called him, was the War Chief.

Geronimo had led fifteen warriors and a few women and children in an escape from the reservation at San Carlos a week ago. They were hiding in their stronghold in the Dragoon Mountains, waiting until the intense search by the White Eye Cavalry would die down. It had gone well until yesterday, when they became careless and a warrior was shot across the valley in the Chiricahuas.

Geronimo shook his head in disgust as he remembered the incident. They had their prey down but the young warrior had grown impatient and in trying to be the first in for the kill had made a foolish mistake. Not only that, the mistake had nearly cost Geronimo and Taza their lives also. The white eyed pistolero had them dead in his sights but for some reason had given them their lives.

Geronimo shook his head again in disgust at the thought. Now he had a wounded man and he needed a horse to pull a travois. They needed to continue their journey to the Sierra Madre Mountains in Mexico where they would be beyond the reach of the White Eyes Cavalry. He glanced back toward the east. The dust cloud had grown much larger and would soon be near. He lifted his arm, holding his bow, and signaled for Taza to get ready.

Taza raised his arm, acknowledging the command and said something to the other warriors. Taza and another warrior dropped down and lay flat on their backs in two small depressions they had gouged out of the desert. The depressions were only about ten yards from the trail the stagecoach would travel. The other three men started quickly covering the two with loose dirt and when the men were covered except for their noses and mouths, they grabbed some small mesquite branches they had already cut and swept the area so no trace of the hidden men could be seen. Then they ran further down the trail and veered off and took up the hidden positions they had previously selected.

Geronimo looked at the work with satisfaction. The stage would pass the concealed men without knowing they were there. Then the men could rise up and use their running ability to catch the stage from behind without being seen until it was too late.

### ***

Beth had the stage to herself for this leg of the journey and she was glad they would reach Benton Springs later this evening. During the day she found herself thinking about Sam Smith. He was obviously a hard man who she suspected made a living with his guns but during their conversation the previous evening he revealed a softer, more vulnerable side. She knew who he really was, of course, because she not only remembered him as a friend of her older brother but her husband had idolized his older cousin and talked about him a great deal. They suspected he went to Mexico after killing the men who murdered his parents but it was as if he dropped off the end of the earth. There had been no word from him in ten years.

She met him again briefly this morning but there had not really been time to talk before she boarded the stage. He asked her again where his uncle was living and after she told him what she knew, he said he might see her there. They said goodbye awkwardly and then before she knew it, she impulsively leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. Now she smiled inwardly at herself, embarrassed at her forwardness. "Well, after all," she thought, "he is almost family, isn't he?"

She was jerked from her musings. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong! She heard loud thumpings that sounded as if they were coming from the top of the stage and then a man's panicked voice that sounded like the driver's, start to holler. The voice was cut off in the middle of a yell and then the stage was swaying wildly, nearly toppling over as it skidded to a halt. She heard a scuffling sound from the driver's portion of the stage and then another sound as if something had been thrown to the ground. She looked out the window and was horrified to see the bodies of both the driver and the shotgun guard lying awkwardly on the ground. The positions of the men left no doubt they were dead.

Suddenly, the door of the stage was jerked open and she found herself face to face with a half clothed brown man with yellow paint smeared in stripes across his face. He was grinning wickedly at her and before she could react, the Indian let out a wild yell and reached in, grabbed her by the hair and pulled her face forward out of the stage and onto the ground. She heard herself screaming hysterically.

### Comes A Rider, Chapter Three

Sam watched the stage pull out and wondered why he suddenly felt very lonely. It was a feeling he had not experienced in a long time. There were women in Mexico but he never allowed himself to get close to any of them. It was not a prejudice of any type because he genuinely grew to like the Mexican people but somehow he always knew he would eventually return to the States.

Somehow this girl seemed different. She told him that she and Gunter were married less than a year before he was killed. That was over three years ago and if she had any relationships since then she had not mentioned it. The way Beth spoke about his cousin left no doubt that she loved him dearly. The fact that the romance crossed the German/Anglo barriers proved that beyond a shadow of doubt.

After Sam finished his breakfast he went outside the station, intending to get his horse and start toward the San Pedro Valley. A tall, slender man was dismounting from a good looking black horse in front of the station. The two men exchanged glances and Sam noticed the man wore two guns tied low on his hips. He immediately recognized the man as a gunfighter.

Sam knew the type, and as the man looked at him he hoped it wasn't someone from Mexico who held a grudge against him. His work down there had caused him to make more than a few enemies.

Sam spoke first, hoping there wasn't going to be any trouble. "Morning, better get in there and grab some of those biscuits before they get cold," he said.

The man replied, "Thanks, I was aiming to do just that. Say, partner, you sure look familiar, do I know you?"

Sam looked at the man and thought he did look familiar. The smile on his face and the way he spoke did not make it appear the man was looking for trouble. Sam said, "Don't know, but you look a little familiar yourself. I've been in Mexico for the past few years. Were you ever down that way?"

The man smiled slowly as if he remembered where he had known Sam. He said, "No, but I think we've met. My name is Johnny Dalton, now, but I think back in Texas you knew me as something else." He emphasized the word "now" as he spoke.

The man's voice and the reference to Texas triggered a bell and Sam felt himself tense inside. Sure, this was John Ringo. When John was younger he had lived in Mason County and his stepfather had hated the German immigrants. Sam decided to try to get by peaceably. He replied slowly, "Yes, you're right, we may have known each other in the past. My name is Sam Smith, now." Sam's voice held a challenge. He also emphasized the word "now" when he finished speaking and he looked intently at the man to see if there was going to be an issue.

The man smiled easily and his relaxed smile told Sam there was not going to be any problem. The man said, "Sure, Sam, I remember now, why don't you come on in and have another cup of coffee while I get some breakfast? We can get caught up and try not to remember some pretty stupid times."

"Believe I would enjoy that, Johnny, maybe you could give me some information about this country," Sam replied.

As they visited, Sam found that Ringo, or Dalton as he called himself now, had been working on a ranch over in the San Simon Valley for the past two years. The valley lay just a few miles east of the Fort. Sam picked up the fact that the man did not say what his job was on the ranch but with the hardware on his hips, Sam figured it was the same kind of work he himself had been doing in Mexico. There were just some things better left unsaid.

Johnny told Sam he was going to take a couple of weeks off and go to Tucson for a little relaxation and he might even feel the need to sew a few wild oats. When Sam told him he was going to the San Pedro Valley, which was on the way to Tucson, the men decided to ride together. Sam was glad that Johnny had not asked any questions about his name change.

When Johnny finished breakfast they mounted their horses and started out at an easy canter on the same trail the stage had taken earlier. Both men knew they were in for a hot, dusty ride ahead as they started across a wide valley that Johnny called the Sulphur Springs Valley. The searing sun shining across the valley already was sending heat waves shimmering up from the desert floor. The trail was easy to follow and they rode in a comfortable silence broken only by an occasional comment from one or the other about some landmark they came upon.

They had both been keeping a wary eye open, as they knew they were in the heart of Apache country and that Geronimo had jumped the reservation with a small band of warriors.

Sam was the first to spot the stage in the distance but he could not see any horses. "Look at that!" he exclaimed and immediately urged his horse forward at a gallop.

Sam reached the stage first and was not surprised to see the two dead men lying on the ground. They had been scalped and it was not a pretty sight. His heart was pounding as he looked for Beth's body but was only partially relieved when he didn't find her. It did not take much imagination to figure out that the Indians had taken her with them. Her empty trunk lay on the ground beside the stage and was hacked open. There was nothing left in it.

Johnny rode up quickly and reined his horse up beside Sam's. "God, look at those poor devils. The Indians must have wanted the horses," he said in a hushed voice.

"You don't know the worst of it yet, Johnny. A lady was on the stage when it left this morning. They must have taken her with them. There is her trunk." He pointed to the luggage laying broken open and empty on the ground.

"A lady? Damn, it probably would have been better if they had killed her here. It don't get much worse than being held captive by Apaches. How'd you know she was on the stage?" he asked.

"Because I put her on it this morning. I met her last night at the station and in fact she was a girl from back home. You may have known her. Her name used to be Beth Johnson before she married."

"Beth Johnson! You have to be kidding. Of course I know her, know her family too. She married a Dutchy and it caused quite a stir at the time but he was killed shortly after the marriage." Dalton must have realized what he said because he quickly added, "No offense intended on the Dutchy remark, Sam."

Sam barely heard, his mind had already started to work. The stage had left two, less than three hours before he and Johnny that morning and they had probably traveled at about the same pace. That meant the Indians were only two or three hours ahead of them. He saw that the tracks of the horses were headed in a southwesterly direction and they were easy to see. The Indians probably did not figure anyone would find the stage for a few days. His problem was daylight. He could not follow the Indians after dark so he needed to get going now.

"Johnny, it was nice running into you but looks like we are going to part company now. See you again sometime." He turned his horse and started off before Johnny hollered at him to wait a minute.

"Hold on there, Sam. What do you think you're doing? One man, not even two, can make any difference now. You're committing suicide if you go after em' by yourself."

"Maybe so, but I'm going and I can't waste time talking about it." With that he turned his horse and started out again.

"Wait just a damn minute. Let's think for just a second. That trail looks like it's headed direct for the Apache Stronghold Canyon in the Dragoons. It's called Cochise Stronghold because when Cochise was running wild around here that's where they always hid out. It's a long narrow canyon with fresh water and the Army could never dislodge 'em. Look there, you can see where the entrance is from here. See those rugged rock formations right there in the middle of the mountains? That's it, and it figures that Geronimo has chosen that place to hide out. Nearly impossible to force them out of there, leastwise the Army could never do it."

"Thanks for the information. If I lose the trail, I'll head for that formation. Adios, I'd better get going."

"I said wait a second. You Dutch Heads never had a lick of sense and I must be worse, cause if you're dead set on going, I reckon I can tag along."

Sam did not even reply, he started his horse at a fast lope in the direction the tracks led. If Johnny wanted to come, that was his business but he needed to get going now. The two men rode at a brisk clip. The tracks never wavered in heading directly to the rugged rock formations that Johnny had pointed out.

Suddenly Sam stopped his horse and dismounted quickly. He walked over to a mesquite tree and reached for a small piece of blue cloth caught on a branch. It was the same material and color as the dress Beth was wearing that morning. "Looks like we're on the right trail. Let's keep moving. We have to be gaining on them."

Johnny nodded and then said, "Right, but we are going to be entering the canyon in a few minutes. Geronimo will probably leave two or three braves as a rear guard; leastwise that's what they used to do when the Army was after them. If we both go riding in there, they'll probably jump us and even if we get the rear guards, it will alert the rest of them that we're coming and that won't do the girl any good."

Sam thought about it for a second and then responded slowly. "You're probably right. I don't believe they are heavily armed either. I ran into three of them yesterday and I think one of them was Geronimo. They didn't carry firearms, which makes sense if they had to leave the reservation in a hurry. We can figure they now have the two pistols from the stage driver and guard and maybe a rifle but I'll bet that's about it. Of course, they are pretty handy with those bows and arrows, which is why I'm wearing this damn sling. Tell you what, I'll ride on ahead and you wait fifteen minutes and then come on in behind me. If they jump me you will hear me shoot and you can come up and maybe get above them and we can get them in crossfire. How does that sound?" Sam asked.

Johnny did not hesitate as he nodded his head in agreement, "Let's do it."

Sam saw the fighting look in the other man's eyes which made him think he had a partner he could count on. He started his horse up the trail and then decided he did not want his arm in a sling anymore. He took the sling off and stretched the arm slowly. It hurt but the wounds did not appear to open up. He didn't want to look weak to anyone. He then reached back in his saddlebag and took out his spare revolver. After checking that the pistol was fully loaded he stuck it in the front of his pants so he would have easy access to it.

Sam entered the canyon and after only a few yards it was easy to see why the Army had such a hard time trying to capture Cochise. The canyon walls were steep and it was only about fifty yards wide at its narrow point and did not ever open up too much more than a hundred yards at the widest point. Strategically placed, a few well armed men could decimate an attacking force.

Sam was less than a mile into the canyon when he heard the same bird call that he heard the previous morning when he had been ambushed. "God, was that only yesterday?" he thought. Sam did not react to the call but continued on for a few yards until he came to a stream flowing gently down from one side of the canyon. He dismounted from his horse and let the animal drink but he made sure the animal was between himself and the direction he heard the bird call. He knelt down beside the drinking animal, still holding the reins in his hands. He very slowly found a large rock and placed the rock over the reins to keep the horse secure. Then he raised his arms as if to stretch and walked slowly over to a large tree as if to relieve himself. Once behind the tree, he dropped quickly to the ground and crawled as silently as he could over to another stand of trees that provided more cover.

There he waited. After only a few minutes he heard the familiar bird call again and this time there was an answering call from across the canyon. Sam did not move. In a couple of minutes the call was repeated and again with an answering call. Sam smiled to himself. The boys were getting nervous now. They must have figured out that he was on to them and had disappeared. He also figured that they did not have firearms or they would have tried a shot when they saw him dismount.

Sam waited. Soon an Indian brave stepped out cautiously about thirty yards from where he was concealed. The man was crouched low and stood ready to run. Sam figured the brave was trying to get him to show himself so the other one would know where he was and could make his move.

Sam grinned to himself and thought, "Nope, fellers, we will just wait this one out and see what happens." Soon the Indian started to move slowly toward Sam's mount. He walked up carefully to the animal and touched its neck gently and the horse whinnied softly. The Indian stood there and then Sam saw him make the bird call again. This time the call was answered quickly and Sam saw another Indian step out from across the canyon and approach the other Indian cautiously.

The two men started talking nervously and looking around. Sam was trying to figure out some way to take the men without firing a shot when he heard a horse approach from the way he had come and he knew it had to be Johnny. The Indians heard it too and started to leave.

Sam could not wait any longer. He stepped out with his pistol in his hand and blocked their way. One of the braves charged him with a knife and Sam stepped deftly aside and laid the man's head open with a vicious blow from his pistol. The man dropped to the ground immediately, unconscious, with blood streaming from his head. The other brave saw his companion fall and froze as Sam had his pistol trained directly on the man. Sam took advantage of the man's indecision and took three quick steps and dropped the last brave the same way.

He was standing there when Johnny rode up. Johnny looked at the two fallen men and spoke. "Looks to me like I got here just in time. In another minute they would have had you for sure." He was laughing when he said it, "Why didn't you just shoot 'em?" he continued.

"I thought I was going to have to. But I didn't want to make a noise; the sound of a gunshot would probably carry for miles in this canyon. And another thing, I'm just tired of killing. Done too much of it the last few years, I guess."

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