“This is a long way for Preacher Webb to travel.”

“He answers his callin’. There’s some people here who need a strong dose of preachin’ any time they can get it.”

Rusty agreed. “There’s been a right smart of raidin’ and horse stealin’ laid at these men’s door.”

“There’s a few sour apples like them Oldham brothers, but you can’t blame everybody. Most of these are decent people. The war put them in a bad situation, that’s all. When it’s over they’ll go back to where they came from and tend to their own business.”

“Most. But what about those who use the war as an excuse, the ones who would’ve been renegades even without it?”

“Time’ll weed them out. They’ll rob the wrong citizen or steal the wrong horse.”

“You could’ve weeded them out yourselves.”

“We need them. When the war is over we won’t need them anymore.”

Men of the camp surged forward as Old Man Timpson rode in. He flipped the pack horses’ lead rein to one of them.

Somebody shouted, “I hope you brung us some coffee.”

The old man’s voice was hoarse. He was weary from a long ride. “Sure enough, along with flour and salt and such.” He coughed, trying to clear his throat of dust. “But I brought somethin’ a lot better than any of that.”

Barlow spoke up, “I don’t know nothin’ better than coffee.”

“I brought news.” The old man took off his hat and bowed his head. “Praise God . . .” He paused, taking a deep breath. “The war is over.”

Shouts erupted among the men, moving through the camp like a whirlwind as the message was relayed from one to another. Timpson dismounted slowly and carefully, then clung wearily to the saddle, his aging legs stiff. He explained that General Robert E. Lee had surrendered and the Confederacy was no more.

Rusty had sized up Barlow as a farmer, for he had the strong, broad shoulders of one used to hard and heavy work, his large hands probably accustomed to gripping the handles of a plow. Yet this big man stood without shame and let tears roll down his whiskery cheeks in front of everybody. He murmured, “I had begun to think we never would live to see this day”

He turned toward the crowd. “Friends, looks to me like we ought to join together and give thanks . . . thanks to Him who has delivered us from this terrible ordeal.”

He stood with hat in hand, waiting for the remainder of the crowd to gather. The two women clutched their husbands’ arms and wept. Many men knelt while Barlow said his prayer. His voice gained strength as he spoke.

“Lord, Thou hast watched over us and brought us through four long years of misery. Now we bow to offer our gratitude. Thou hast brought us deliverance from the evil that has rent families asunder and torn our country apart. We ask Thee now to give us errant children guidance as we undertake to bind up the wounds. We beseech Thy blessings upon the widow, the orphan, the soldier crippled. Bring us together and make us whole again, we ask in the name of Him who died for our sins, Amen.”