Page 76 of At Love’s Command

Matt knew he was asking a lot. Asking Burkett to give up the one small advantage he held in order to trust a group of men he didn’t know to pursue a larger advantage that could either make all the difference or no difference at all.

“Can you give me that time?” Matt asked.

Burkett’s eyes closed even as the muscles in his jaw ticked. He stood silent, his face slowly tipping toward the sky as his hands balled into fists. He was a fighter by nature, a man used to being in control. Exactly like Matt. And exactly like Matt, he had to fight his instincts and surrender to the One who held the highest ground. The One who could see beyond the plans of men.

Ever since he’d surrendered his rifle to Taggart, Matt had been surrendering more and more control to the Almighty. He’d had no choice. Never had he been less equipped for a rescue mission than when he’d lain bound, wounded, and stripped of all weapons and belongings. Yet from that moment of deprivation, God had stepped in to take charge. He’d provided boots and transportation. Horses and a guide. Then better horses along with weapons and manpower. Now he’d even provided directions. Ambiguous directions, to be sure, but directions all the same. Matt had to believe that more details would be forthcoming if they followed in faith and allowed the Lord to navigate.

After a long, tense silence, Burkett’s chin came down and his lids lifted. His dark green eyes, so like Josie’s, met Matt’s, a plea tinged with desperation giving them an unnatural sheen. “I’ll wait until three.”

He extended his hand, and Matt grasped it.

Burkett tightened his grip, his stare boring into Matt’s soul. “Bring my children home, Hanger.”

Matt gave a brief nod. “I will, sir. Or die trying.” After studying the map on the back of the note a final time, he handed the paper over to Josie’s father. “God go with you.”

Burkett nodded. “And you.” With a thump to Matt’s back, he returned to his horse, mounted, and set off for the main road at a walk. Albert and Eddie followed close behind.

Knowing daylight was a precious commodity they couldn’t afford to waste, Matt signaled his men to mount up.

Preach looked at him as Matt swung onto Percival’s back. “We’re gonna have to push these horses harder than Burkett would want to cover the amount of ground necessary to carry out this plan of yours, Cap.”

Matt drew the reins around and aimed Percival not west toward the main road, but north to cut off a corner that would place them ahead of Josie’s father and his men.

“I know. We’ll have to take care. We can’t press them past their breaking point, but we’re going to have to get as close to that point as possible if we’re going to find that farm before Taggart takes Josie to the exchange.” He looked at each man in turn. “Keep me updated on the status of your mounts as we go. If we need to rest, we will. It just can’t be for long.”

“We can dismount and walk with them too, Captain, to lighten their loads,” Preach said.

“And use lanterns after dark,” Jonah added.

“Whatever it takes to find her.” This from Wallace, whose arm must be throbbing but whose face gave no indication of anything but strength and determination.

Matt’s chest swelled with pride in his men. His friends. Their mission might consist of finding a needle in a field of haystacks, but with God, nothing was impossible.

“Preach?” Matt looked to his corporal for the one thing they lacked before setting off.

The big man grinned. “‘If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed . . . nothing shall be impossible unto you.’ Time for some mustard, boys!” With a whoop, he set off at a lope.

Matt leaned over Percival’s neck, the thrill of the hunt stirring his blood. “Time to see what you’re made of, young knight. Let’s go.”

CHAPTER

THIRTY-THREE

By the time night fell, Matt and the Horsemen had crossed the entirety of Medina County, including fording the Medina River, Hondo Creek, and finally Seco Creek. The hilly terrain had taken a toll on their mounts, leaving the animals’ heads hanging low as they plodded toward Utopia.

They’d gambled on the assumption that the best chance to learn the outlaws’ location was to ask those living closest to Seco Creek, so they’d sacrificed possible information in favor of speed, stopping only at the Hondo Canyon post office on Williams Creek at about the halfway point of their journey. The postmaster had no knowledge of vacated property in the western part of the county, but he did advise them on the best route to take into Utopia, helping them avoid arroyos and canyons that would slow their progress.

Matt slumped slightly to the right, his side throbbing after a long day in the saddle. He hated looking weak in front of his men, but at this point, they were all so weary and bedraggled, preserving energy was more important than preserving pride.

“I see it, Captain.” Jonah’s voice echoed behind him.

Matt straightened, then swiveled to glance back at Brooks, clutching his side to minimize the pull on his stitches.

Jonah tipped his head and pointed to the right side of the road up ahead. “Buildings. We made it to Utopia.”

Matt peered into the darkness ahead of him. It took a minute, but eventually he made out a pair of dark square shadows. Like a horse who sensed the home barn was close, Matt flared his nostrils and lifted his head. Little zings of energy ricocheted through his chest, revitalizing his flagging stamina.

“Look alive, men. Time to start our investigation in earnest.”