Page 78 of At Love’s Command

He chuckled and shook his head. “It’s just like the parable of the lost coin. That poor woman lit her lamp and swept her entire house, looking for her coin. I’ve done the same.” He nodded toward the lantern glowing near the side window, then looked down at himself, shook his head, and brushed the dust from his knees. “You’ll have to rejoice with me,” he said, grabbing Matt’s arm and giving it a little shake. “All my other neighbors are tucked away in their homes, preparing for bed.” His smile beamed, and for just a moment, the ache in Matt’s side lessened.

The preacher laughed, his joy too big to contain, and Matt found his lips twitching in an answering grin.

The preacher released Matt’s arm and thumped him on the back. “Guess I have my sermon topic for next Sunday, don’t I? Luke 15 might have a lost sheep, a lost coin, and a lost son, but God just gave me a lost Bible parable to share with the congregation.”

He held his prize out in front of him, and his palm caressed the leather cover with reverence. His jig-dancing gaze settled into a slow waltz as something deeper than happiness softened his features.

“My wife gave me this Bible.” He glanced up and caught Matt’s eye. “On our wedding day. She vowed to support me in my calling, wherever God might lead us. I’ve never preached a sermon without it.” A thoughtful look crossed his face as he looked at each of the Horsemen in turn. “I always leave it on the podium at the front of the building after services, but today . . .” Lines crept across his brow as he puzzled through events aloud. “I guess I tucked it under my arm and carried it outside where I shake hands and wish everyone well as they depart. It must have fallen without my noticing, and since I never carry it outside with me, I didn’t think to search there.”

His attention returned to the holy book in his hands. “When I discovered it was missing, I was so distraught. Then angry at myself for being careless and too scatterbrained to recall where I’d left it.” His gaze lifted. “But now I’m wondering if losing this Bible wasn’t God’s plan all along. Perhaps he wanted me to be here at this time. To meet you.”

Matt’s pulse picked up its pace. How many providential encounters were they to be blessed with? Never before had he felt God directing his steps so carefully or providing for his needs so completely. It humbled him. What would life be like if he lived from a place of surrender like this all the time?

“I don’t know if it was God’s plan or not,” Matt said, though his heart urged him to believe it, “but we’re mighty glad to find you here. We’re hoping you can help us locate a piece of property nearby. An abandoned farm near Seco Creek. Do you know it?”

The preacher nodded. “I know of several around here. You got any other information to help narrow it down?”

Several? Matt’s side took up throbbing again. How many? Three? Four? Ten? They wouldn’t have time to scout them all.

“That’s all we know,” Preach answered, since Matt’s brain was too busy being discouraged to respond. “Except for the fact that an outlaw gang has taken up residence there.”

“Outlaws?” The preacher’s eyes narrowed, and his jaw tightened. “I hoped they were gone for good this time. I haven’t heard of them being in these parts for over a year. Rumor had it they’d moved on to Uvalde.”

“Where are they?” Matt took a step toward the preacher, desperation lending an unwelcome sharpness to his tone. The parson’s eyes widened. Matt immediately halted and softened his voice. “Please. They’re holding a woman captive. A woman I care about a great deal.”

The preacher straightened, a glint of purpose lighting his eyes. “Then you need to get her back. If these outlaws are the same band that came through here two years ago, they’re no respecters of life. They killed George Hightower and made off with his herd when they discovered him living alone so far from town. He had worked that land for five years. Built a house, a barn, a chicken coop. He planned to send for his family that year, as soon as he drove his cattle to market, but he never got the chance. Now his widow is left with nothing more than a piece of property that won’t sell for fear the outlaws will return. And now they have.” He shook his head and released a sigh. “George was a good man. Worked hard. Came to church every Sunday. He didn’t deserve what happened to him.”

“My Josie is an innocent as well,” Matt said, his voice trembling slightly. “Taken for ransom, though I imagine they’ll kill her as soon as they get their hands on her father’s money. That’s why we have to get to them first. Rescue her and her brother before the exchange takes place.”

The preacher clapped Matt’s shoulder. “Well, that decides it, then. You’re all coming home with me.”

Matt started to protest, but the preacher cut him off.

“No arguments. I’m not about to wish you warm and well fed and wash my hands of you. I aim to play the Good Samaritan in this scene. Might even get another sermon topic out of it.” He winked, and Matt abandoned his reluctance. “By the looks of you, you’re all worn to nubbins. Tildie loves to cook, and she’ll tan my hide if she learns I allowed hungry men on a noble quest to escape unfed. She’ll fill your bellies tonight and fuel you up again in the morning before you set out. There’s no barn for your horses at the parsonage, but I have plenty of sweet grass and a pump for water. We have a spare room where you can spread your bedrolls, and a rooster next door that will ensure you don’t oversleep.”

Overwhelmed by his kindness and the continuation of the Lord’s provision, Matt dipped his chin and extended his hand. “Thank you.”

The preacher clasped his palm. “Least I could do for the men who found my Bible.”

“And you’ll be able to give us directions to the Hightower farm?” As good as the food and shelter sounded, Matt couldn’t afford to lose sight of the main goal.

“Better than that, my friend.” The preacher’s eyes were back to dancing again, hinting at surprises Matt didn’t have the energy to guess at. “I’ll draw you a map.”

CHAPTER

THIRTY-FOUR

I can’t believe Parson Andrews drew that map.” Wallace exuded admiration as the horses enjoyed a short respite from their travels. “It looks like it was rendered by a professional cartographer.”

Matt silently agreed. He held the map at arm’s length and examined the incredibly detailed sketch the preacher had given them this morning. The grove of trees to their left matched the leafy markings on the page. Rock formations, creek beds, canyons, hills—they were all depicted with stunning accuracy. If the army had more men like Andrews on the payroll, scouting time could be cut in half.

“His missus told me he was up half the night working on it.” Jonah stood in his stirrups and scanned the landscape to the south. “Said he wanted to get it just right. Knew a woman’s life depended on it.”

Preach took a sip of water from his canteen, then wiped the moisture from his lips. “I suppose every man needs a hobby. We’re just lucky his happened to be mapmaking.”

Matt folded the sketch and tucked it into his vest pocket. “Luck had nothing to do with it.” He looked at his men, each in turn. “It’s God’s providence.”

He couldn’t deny that truth. Nor did he want to. God was leading this expedition, not him. Exactly as it should be. Matt would rather trust Josie’s safety to the One who saw all and knew all instead of relying on his own limited vision and understanding. He’d felt God’s gentle urging in his life before, but never had it been so overt. It was as if a general had ridden onto the battlefield to direct the operation himself instead of leaving it in the hands of his officers. Before this, Matt might have balked at being relieved of his command. Not anymore. He welcomed the interference and stood ready to obey whatever orders the General saw fit to give.