Mountain Homecoming (32 page)

He eased into a standing position and reached for the rifle that lay on the floor beside him. He tiptoed toward the door but stopped when a floorboard creaked beneath his feet. He waited a moment before he took another step.

He reached the door and pressed his ear against it, listening for movement outside. Hearing nothing, he cocked the rifle and reached for the door latch. He pulled the door open and stared into the black night before he stepped onto the front porch. The wind blew down from the mountains and ruffled the leaves on the trees.

In the distance he heard a dog howl, but there was no one in sight around the cabin. “Must have been the wind knocking something up against the wall,” he muttered, and turned back toward the door.

He'd only taken a step when he stopped. In the darkness he could just make out a piece of paper with a nail through the center of it hanging on his front door. The wind hadn't left that unless it had used a hammer to pound the nail into the wood.

He pulled the paper from the door and carried it back inside. An oil lamp sat on the floor next to his pallet. He dropped to the floor, lit the lamp, and held the paper up to the flickering light. It was difficult at first to make out the crude handwriting, but there was no mistaking its message:

GIT OUT OF THE COVE WHILE YOU KAN STIL WALK.

Matthew read the note several times, then wadded it into a ball and tossed it in the fireplace. The flames licked at the paper before it vanished in a ball of fire.

He didn't move for a long time. He'd just begun to think he was going to be accepted in the Cove, but now it didn't seem likely. Somebody wanted him gone. He had his suspicions about who it could be, but there was no way to prove it. All he could do was keep a sharp lookout for trouble and watch his back at all times.

He laid the rifle next to the pallet, blew out the lamp, and settled back down in front of the fireplace. Outside the wind blew around the cabin, and he listened for any strange sounds in the night. He'd worked hard to get this piece of land back, and he wasn't about to let anybody run him off of it.

S
imon and John had shown up just as Simon promised, and they had worked with Matthew from early morning until late afternoon picking the hardened ears of corns from the dry stalks in the field. They loaded bushel after bushel on Matthew's wagon, and Noah had sat perched atop the pile as they'd hauled it to the barn.

Now with the three having left for home, Matthew stood inside the barn and thanked the Lord for the blessing of the abundant harvest and for having good friends like Simon and John. He could be assured his horse, mules, and cow would eat well this winter. With all the wildlife in the Cove, he knew he would as well.

Several times today he had started to tell Simon about the note he'd received the night he and Anna had visited, but he knew if he told of that one he'd also have to tell him of the two that had followed. With the threats having been leveled against him, he'd become even more cautious than before.

He left the barn and headed back to the cabin. His gaze darted from side to side as he trudged along. When he entered the house, he closed the door and walked over to the fireplace. He propped his foot on the hearth and stared down at the smoldering coals.

Rani's face flashed in his head, and he wondered what she was doing tonight. Each day he missed her more than the one before, and he wondered how he was ever going to put her from his mind. To him she would always be the girl who'd stolen his heart.

He sighed and straightened. Tonight he didn't need to think about Rani or how someone had been close enough to shoot him. He needed to eat something and go to sleep. He walked over and bolted the door as he now did every night—a small measure of protection against an enemy who was intent on doing him harm.

He grabbed a piece of cornbread and the fried chicken Anna had sent with Simon this morning, gobbled it down, and stretched out on the floor in front of the fireplace. He closed his eyes and tried to push Rani's face from his mind, but he couldn't. He was still thinking of her as he felt himself drift into sleep.

He had no idea how long he'd been asleep when he shot up into a sitting position. He listened for the sound that had awakened him, and his blood turned cold at the high-pitched yell piercing the night. It was coming from the direction of the corn field.

Grabbing his gun from beside him, he jumped up and ran out the door. The fire racing across the dried stalks in the cornfield lit the night sky. Fear rooted him to the spot as he watched the flames slowly devouring the field. At the moment the wind was blowing in the opposite direction of the cabin and the barn, but if it shifted, as it often did in the Cove, both buildings could be in danger from flying embers.

Intent on getting his animals to safety before the barn ignited, he raced down the steps, threw open the heavy door, and rushed inside. As he opened the stalls, he drove the animals from the barn into the fenced yard. When the two mules, his horse, and the cow stood outside the barn, he locked the gate behind him and headed toward the field. If the barn caught fire, he would come back later and drive the animals out of the enclosure.

He stopped at the edge of the field and stared at the blazing fire. What could he do? He was only one person, and the fire was a raging inferno.

Before he could decide how to proceed, Simon and John rode into the yard, dismounted from their horses, and rushed toward him. “What happened?” cried Simon above the roar of the fire.

“I don't know. I woke up, and the field was on fire. How did you know?”

“Didn't you hear the bells ringing? We keep a lookout for fires. When somebody spots one, they ring the dinner bell in their yard, and ev'rybody comes running,” John said.

Matthew shook his head. “I didn't hear anything.”

At that moment several wagons rolled to a stop, and men with shovels in their hands jumped to the ground. Several riders appeared on horses, dismounted, and ran toward the fire. Pete Ferguson began to shout orders.

“Men, git your shovels and spread out around the field. Don't let no spark get by you. We gotta keep this blaze contained to this field, or we're gonna have ourselves a mess to take care of.”

Matthew watched in amazement as the men rushed to do as commanded. He hesitated only a moment before he ran back to the barn, grabbed his shovel, and rushed to join his neighbors on the fire line. For hours the men stood united as they pounded the embers that tried to escape the field.

As the sun rose over the mountains, the soot-covered group trudged to their wagons and horses. The last spark had been extinguished, and the weary firefighters were on their way to their homes and waiting breakfasts.

Matthew stood in front of his cabin and shook each man's hand as he prepared to leave. Over and over he expressed his gratitude to his neighbors who'd saved his house and barn from being destroyed. As Pete Ferguson prepared to climb into his wagon, Matthew walked over and stood next to him.

“Do you need help getting in?” he asked.

Pete bit down on his lip and winced as he pulled himself up. Matthew could only guess how much pain Pete must have suffered as he battled the blaze throughout the night, but he had persevered until the end.

A muffled groan escaped Pete's mouth as he settled on the wagon seat and stretched out his leg in front of him. Perspiration trickled down his face and left trails on his soot-covered skin. “I'm 'bout back to normal, Matthew. Be sure and keep an eye on that field. We could've overlooked a spark. We don't want it to blaze up agin.”

“I'll do that, Pete. And thanks for all your help. You've been good to me since I've been back.”

Pete stared at the reins he held before he looked up at Matthew. “I don't reckon I ever thanked you proper-like for all you done for me after I got hurt, but I want you to know I appreciate it.” He took a deep breath. “And I want you to know somethin' else. When you came back here, I thought you wouldn't last. I guess I figured you was like your pa. But you ain't. If you ever need anything, just let me know.”

Matthew stood in stunned silence as Pete snapped the reins and guided the team of horses from the yard. He watched the wagon roll into the distance before he turned back to Simon, the only man who remained. “Where's John?”

“He left a few minutes ago,” Simon said, “but he'll come by later. I thought I'd stick around for a while in case you needed some company.”

Last night as he'd battled the fire, he'd decided what he had to do. Now Pete's words made him doubt his decision. He did need help, and who better to give him advice than Simon? He shook his head in resignation. “You always could tell when I needed help, Simon, and I reckon I do right now. I don't know what to do.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“Yeah. Come on inside, and I'll fix us some coffee. And I have somewhere for us to sit this time. There were some boards leftover from building the cabin, and I made a bench so I could sit in front of the fire. I think it'll hold us both.”

Simon followed Matthew inside the cabin and looked around before he laughed. He walked over, placed his hands on the bench, and pressed down. “We've really got to get you some chairs.”

Matthew picked up the coffeepot, filled it with water, and dumped in some coffee grounds before he set it in the coals. His gaze drifted over the bricks that Rani had made, and he closed his eyes as her face drifted through his mind. After a minute he turned to face Simon.

“I'm beginning to think I may not need any furniture, Simon. Maybe I made a mistake in coming back.”

Simon's eyes grew wide with surprise. “What are you talking about?”

Matthew sank down on the bench, and Simon eased onto the other end. Matthew stared at the fireplace again before he spoke. “I thought I could come back here to live, but I think I was wrong. Everywhere I turn I see something that reminds me of Rani. Now with this fire, it just doesn't seem worth staying on anymore.”

“Matthew, you can't give up because you had a fire. Just be thankful we'd harvested the corn before the field was destroyed.”

“Oh, I am. But it won't stop there. Whoever did this won't rest until I'm run out of the Cove.”

Simon leaned forward and frowned. “You think the fire was set deliberately?”

“I know it was. Three different threatening notes have been left lately, and then I wake up in the middle of the night when someone yells to me from my field. Whoever it was meant for me to wake up. I'm lucky everybody showed up, or my house and barn would be gone now too.”

Simon was silent for a moment. “Do you have any idea who might be behind this?”

Matthew snorted. “Of course I know. It's Wade Campbell. He thinks I have a grudge against him, and he's determined to see me gone, one way or the other.”

Simon jumped to his feet. “Then we have to go to the sheriff.”

“And tell him what? That I suspect Wade? I don't have any proof, and it'll be my word against his. And I don't think he's going to stop until something happens that's worse than a cornfield fire.”

“But we can't let him get away with this. We have to fight for your right to be here.”

Matthew clasped his hands in front of him and sighed. “It seems like I've been fighting for something all of my life. Mostly to survive, and I'm tired. I want some peace in my life. I hoped I would be able to find it back here, but I don't think I will.”

Simon stuck his hands in his pockets and stared down at Matthew. “You had to know it wasn't going to be easy to return.”

“Yeah, I knew there would be folks who couldn't forget the things my father did. How can I expect them to forget when to me it still seems like it happened yesterday?” He let out a deep breath. “I know there had to be some good times. I try to remember them, but all I see is how I tried to survive the beatings and keep him from hurting my mother. I thought we'd be fine after he died, but it didn't work out that way.”

Simon dropped back down on the bench beside Matthew. “I know. When I heard your mother and Eli had died, I went to Pigeon Forge to find you, but Mrs. Johnson said you left right after the funeral. Why didn't you come back here then?”

Matthew shrugged. “I don't know. All I could think about was getting as far away as I could.”

“Where did you go?”

“North Carolina, Virginia, Kentucky. For the next few years I drifted from place to place. By the time I was eighteen, I'd been working in a coal mine in Kentucky for a year. I stayed to myself a lot and made it all right for a while until something happened one night that set me on a different path.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

Matthew closed his eyes for a moment and let his mind drift back to a time he'd tried to forget. He didn't want to tell Simon. The truth was he didn't want to see the disappointment and disgust in Simon's eyes when he found out about the years he'd tried so hard to forget. But he needed to tell someone—to try to explain to Simon how his life had spun out of control and left him with only shame as a companion.