Page 40 of At Love’s Command

“Once the horses are on the run, Preach will head to the ropes and make the climb. I’ll secure the target and follow. Can’t guarantee Charlie’s climbing skills, so Preach will position himself at the top of the rope and reel the kid in for a quicker ascent. I’ll remain below until the target is secured, then make the climb.”

Wallace raised a brow. “You really think all three of you can make that climb without being discovered?”

“Nope.” It would be a nice surprise to prove himself wrong, but Matt harbored no rose-colored illusions. What he did harbor was full confidence in his men. “You and Brooks will lay down cover fire when it becomes necessary and continue until we’re all clear of the canyon. Then we mount up and ride for Chatfield.” He looked at each of his men in turn. “Any questions or concerns? Improvements to offer?”

“I won’t be able to handle my rifle one-handed, Captain. Not sure how much help I’ll be laying cover fire.” The admission left Wallace looking physically ill. He glared down at his sling. “I’ve never been much of a marksman with my left hand.”

Matt grabbed Wallace’s good shoulder and squeezed. “I ain’t askin’ you to shoot bull’s-eyes. I just need you to keep those outlaws ducking for cover. A little wildness in your shots will keep them off guard, never knowing where the next bullet will fly. If you barrage them with frequency, Brooks will take care of the accuracy.”

Jonah tipped his chin to Wallace in a nod that let them all know he’d be watching their backs.

Preach spoke up next. “You got an alternative plan if the fella you spotted turns out not to be the doc’s brother?”

It was a good question. One lacking a satisfactory answer. Matt had to shake his head. “Nope. Just a quicker need for an exit.”

“I suppose we could always stake out the Hangin’ Tree to see who shows up,” Preach said with a shrug. “Try to take them by surprise.”

“And face three-to-one odds?” Jonah shook his head. “If I had a good sniping position, maybe, but the area around the Hanging Tree is flat with little vegetation. No place to set up a perch and even the odds.”

“Jonah’s right,” Matt said. “Attacking head-on would be suicide. Stealing their prisoner from behind their backs is the only option with an acceptable level of risk. As much as I want to return Josie’s brother to her, I’m not willing to throw your lives away doin’ it.”

He’d walk that road alone if it came to that. Matt had sworn to bring her brother back, and he refused to return empty-handed.

Of course, that meant he might not return at all. But he’d deal with that eventuality when it looked him in the face. Not before.

CHAPTER

SEVENTEEN

They moved silently, each man focused on his task. The horses, including Josie’s extra mount, waited behind a small stand of post oak a hundred yards away. Close enough to reach quickly. Distant enough not to be spotted or heard by those in the box canyon below.

Matt shrugged the coil of rope he carried off his shoulder and looped it around the base of the boulder he’d hidden behind earlier. After securing it with a bowline knot, he gave it a hard yank to test its sturdiness, then tossed the end of the rope over the rim and quietly fed the length of it over the side. Preach did the same, using a live oak a few feet farther from the rim as his anchor.

Slipping up to the canyon’s edge on his belly, Matt surveyed the action below through his field glasses. A group of men crouched in a circle near the mouth of the canyon, playing cards. Two others busied themselves checking their weapons. The abused cook banged pots and pans as he packed the chuck wagon. The pockmarked fellow with the blue kerchief had taken over guard duty for one of the sentries. And the lead outlaw stood in the heart of it all, shooting the breeze with none other than Charlie Burkett.

Crud. This plan would only work if he could cull Charlie from the herd without anyone noticing. Stampeding horses wouldn’t suffice as cover if the lead outlaw stood right beside his prisoner when the ruckus started.

Matt waved Preach over. “We’re gonna have to wait a bit.” He handed the field glasses to his corporal and pointed toward the heart of the camp. “Charlie needs to be on the fringe before we can make a move. He’s too entrenched with the others right now to risk setting the horses off.”

Preach propped himself on one elbow and peered through the binoculars. “It ain’t ideal,” he observed as he handed the binoculars back to Matt, “but if we postpone too long, our window’s gonna close. Might be a good idea to position ourselves inside the canyon, keep an eye on things, then strike as soon as an opportunity presents itself.”

“Agreed.” Matt placed the field glasses back in their case, then slithered away from the canyon’s rim. He rose to his feet and waved Preach to the left while he edged right. “Update Brooks, then make your climb. I’ll do the same with Wallace.”

Preach offered a two-fingered salute and moved out, keeping his tall frame hunched over to be less visible to anyone below who might glance their way. Matt did the same, winding his way to Wallace’s position a dozen yards away.

The trumpeter had found a sapling with a v-shaped trunk and propped his rifle barrel in the natural notch, making the weapon more manageable for a one-armed man.

“Preach and I are headed down, but we’re gonna have to play the timing by ear.” Matt lowered the field glasses case to the ground beside Wallace. “Charlie’s too close to the outlaw leader. We’ll have to wait until he separates himself.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

Matt shrugged. “I’ll think of something.”

Wallace grinned. “Don’t you always?”

Only when the Lord allows. Matt shook his head as he thumped Wallace on his good shoulder and headed back to where his rope waited.

Matt wanted his men to have full confidence in his ability to lead them, but he wasn’t so foolish as to believe his past successes were due to his own cleverness. His experience in battle had certainly provided wisdom and helped him anticipate an enemy’s actions, but God was the master general. Matt would have no success without the Lord’s leading. Some might call it gut instinct, but the feelings in his core that urged one action over another went deeper than his gut. And he never failed to listen.