“Because all the folk down there are Confederates and they are keen on slaughtering blue bellies?” He just laughed when Matthew gave him a rude gesture.
James rode up and untied his horse. Matthew waved his thanks and watched the road behind them. He glanced quickly over his shoulder and noticed Abbie had slumped in her seat enough to protect her back some. With a final look at the baby and the sleeping goat, he prayed no shots could reach them and turned his full attention to the men rounding the bend in the road, shifting enough so that his own body also provided some protection for the baby.
The wagon began to move faster but was still moving at a pace that could easily be caught by a man on a galloping horse. All it did was make steadying his rifle harder. All the men following them were pushing their mounts hard. His job was to kill anyone who got too close so he took aim and fired. He cursed at the pain using his rifle caused his injured arm but was pleased that he had hit a man.
Abbie secured the reins, confident that George would keep on the road, and then climbed into the back of the wagon. She grabbed her rifle, checked to be certain it was loaded, and took up a position next to Matthew. She could hear Boyd struggling to get into the back of the wagon himself, but could not lend him a hand. Abbie suspected he would be sorely embarrassed if she tried. Aiming carefully, she fired, and a man fell out of his saddle.
“The horse,” Matthew said, glancing back at George who was staying steady on the road even though his pace was a lot slower than Matthew was comfortable with.
“George will stay straight on the road. It is what he is very good at. He really doesn’t like turning off a road. Doesn’t this lead to your home?”
“Aye, right to the gates. We’re going by the Jones brothers’ cabins now.” He switched to his pistol and fired it, hitting a man who was getting too close to them.
James rode up beside them even as Boyd finally managed to get into the back of the wagon. He leapt from his horse onto the seat and the horses he left stayed close, running alongside George. He then picked up the reins to hold the animal steady.
“George wouldn’t have veered off the road, James,” Abbie said.
“George is a contrary beast, isn’t he? I just thought he’d feel better knowing someone held the reins.”
“Quite possibly. Thank you.” She shot another man at the same time Boyd fired his pistol and a man screamed.
Abbie was just reloading when she heard shots sound from behind them, from behind the men chasing them, too. She frowned as the men pursuing them began to slow their pace and search behind them and to the sides. Puzzled, she was just about to ask Matthew what was happening when he whooped in glee.
“I was hoping they would come,” Matthew said and grinned. “The sound of shooting must have brought them.”
“Who would come?”
“The Jones brothers. Our shepherds.”
“Shepherds?” said Boyd in what sounded very much like horror to Abbie.
“Sorry, lad, but our family raises sheep.” Matthew laughed at the look of sheer disappointment on Boyd’s face. “Makes a nice living.”
Boyd just shook his head. “Is that them?” he asked and pointed to two men riding hard through the trees on the right. “How much help can two shepherds be?”
“Yup, that’s them. And they are Welsh. Trust me, long history of fighting with the Welsh. Although I think those two have been practicing their shooting,” he mumbled as two men fell out of their saddles. “Owen and David Jones.”
The men chasing them hesitated only a moment before they finally noticed how many of them were dead. Helping up the ones wounded, they fled. Abbie had no liking for killing or wounding actual people so made no attempt to shoot at anyone trying to pick up the wounded, but she did wonder why they left. Even with the addition of the shepherds and accounting for the dead and wounded, the men were not yet outnumbered. She shrugged thinking that they had probably thought they had found an easy target only to have it turn out to be not so easy at all.
Then the wagon slowed to a halt and she scrambled over to pick up a now-screaming Jeremiah. It took her several moments to quiet the baby. He was sucking furiously on his fists so she knew the quiet wouldn’t last long. Hunger might not have woken him up, but he would feel it now. The noise and the rough ride were proving to be upsetting for him. Yet she could do little about that. She just hoped they did not have that far left to go.
She got out the nursing jug and moved to the goat only to find one of the Jones brothers petting the animal. “I need to fill his nursing jug.”
“I’ll do that for you, miss.”
He took the jug and easily milked the goat, talking softly to the animal in some language she did not recognize. “Which Jones brother are you?”
“Owen.” He grinned. “The smart one. Ow!” He cast a glare at his brother who had slapped him on the back of the head. “This is David.”
“Nice goat,” said David. “What’s her name?”
“I fear it is Delphinium.”
“Oh, that’ll never work. Got to call them by a name they might answer to, if they are in the right mood to listen.” Owen handed her back the full nursing jug. “Didn’t like all the shooting, did you?” he said to the goat, who nuzzled him and then grabbed his hat in her teeth.
As Owen fought to get his hat back from the stubborn goat, which caused his brother to laugh heartily, Abbie sat down and fed Jeremiah. The Jones boys were a handsome pair in a rough way. Thick, unruly black hair and striking blue eyes in a faintly rugged face made for a look any woman would appreciate. It was not a surprise that David’s wife was trying to help get the other brother for her sister. Not only would the woman be getting her sister a very fine-looking man but it would keep them sisters.
She listened to the men talk as she fed the baby, Matthew and the brothers exchanging news about his family, and she began to feel nervous. There were so many of them. She always felt awkward meeting new people and it was beginning to sound as if there were a lot of them at Matthew’s home. By the time she was patting Jeremiah’s back, Matthew had moved to sit beside her. She noticed he was looking a bit flushed and had beads of sweat on his forehead. Both could be the result of heat and exertion, but she was worried.
