One Came Home

Prologue

Avery shivered as a few drops of cold rain blew under his hat . and ran down the back of his neck. He pulled his slicker up near his hat so the rain wouldn’t pepper in again. He wished now he had his long hair and beard, but he had cut his hair and shaved for his wedding.

Avery was standing on a small hill taking his turn at watch duty. He had a good vantage point, and he is an expert at pulling guard duty. After all, he has done enough of it in the last few months.

Tyson Barrett usually sent only one man with his gold shipments, but this time he sent three. The extra men were not to guard the gold so much as they were to protect Avery, his new bride, and his entire family with the exception of Sarah Jane. After all it’s a long way from Chapel Hill, Tennessee, to Monterey, Mexico.

As Avery stood leaning against a tree watching as best he could for there was very little moonlight and the rain clouds took most of that, he let his mind wander back a few months. He thought about how he had gotten to be on his way to Mexico instead of being in the cozy little family cabin in the Appalachian Mountains of Tennessee.

Chapter 1

Mama, Mama! yelled Avery excitedly as he ran through the front door of the McMillan cabin waving a piece of paper.

What’s the hurry, boy? asked Pap who was sitting in his rocking chair. You’re running around like a chicken with its head cut off.

Eli Butler, Pap to Avery and the rest of the McMillan children, had been living with them since shortly after the fever took Grandma Butler, Avery’s six-year-old brother, Joshua, and Avery’s pa, Jeb. Pap was a semi invalid because of an injury he had gotten in a logging accident and couldn’t do much farm work, but he was a lot of help with the children.

Pap, look at this. Do you think we can go? Do you think Mama will let me ...?

Let you what, Avery? Mama interrupted as she walked in the door with a basket of clothes she had just taken off the clothesline.

Avery handed her the paper he had in his hand.

Where did this come from? asked Mama.

Avery answered, A man named Nathan Davis is riding out in the county passing them out. He said he is a councilman in Johnson City. I was down by the lane patching the fence, and he gave it to me.

She read the paper aloud, Founder’s Day Celebration, May 1, 1864. Games, square dancing, food, pageant, and featuring a shooting contest. Free entry—grand prize a five dollar gold piece.

Mama, can we go? I sure want to enter that contest. You know I can shoot. I’ve been putting meat on the table ever since Pa died. Can we go Mama? Please.

Mama, Cora May to everyone except her children, started shaking her head. She began telling Avery how much work there is to do around the place.

Besides, she said, it’s nine miles to Johnson City, and you know we don’t have any money to spend on things like that. It’s all we can do to keep food in our mouths and clothes on our backs.

Sarah Jane, Avery’s oldest sister who had just turned seventeen, came out of the kitchen. She had been listening to their conversation and was almost as excited as Avery about the prospect of going into town for the celebration.

But Mama, Sarah Jane said, it’s on Sunday. We never work on Sunday. Maybe we can go to the new church. We could fix our own food and carry it—like a picnic. And we could use the five-dollar prize money Avery is sure to win.

The three other McMillan children hurried into the cabin. They had been down by the creek playing when they saw Avery running inside, so naturally they wanted to know what was going on. Eight-year-old Martha Sue followed Mary Beth, Avery’s twelve-year-old sister. She is holding little brother Carson’s hand. Carson, the baby of the family, is four years old.

Is something wrong, Mama? Why was Avery running? Mary Beth asked.

No, sweetheart. Nothing’s wrong. There’s a Founders’ Day Celebration in Johnson City.

Pap, taking it all in said, You know daughter, I think it’s about time this family takes a little time off for some pure old enjoyment. How long has it been since we’ve been off this place all together? We can hitch old Jack to the wagon, pack a lunch, and make a day of it. Be good to see if Avery’s as good a shot as we think he is.

It was settled. The McMillan family would be going to Johnson City for the big celebration. It was all the children could talk about. Mama could tell just how excited they were at night after the three girls climbed to the loft and into their beds. She could hear them talking and planning and giggling just like she had done when she was a girl and was looking forward to a new adventure.

Avery was just as excited at first, but as the day grew nearer, he was more and more worried. Could he really win? It sure would be a disappointment to his sisters if he didn’t. They all looked up to him, especially since their pa died and Avery had pretty much taken his place.

Chapter 2

Almost three months earlier, halfway across the state on Howard Clemmons’s plantation near Chapel Hill, Tennessee, four gentlemen were having their monthly poker game—playing poker, drinking whiskey, discussing the war, and trying to decide what they can do to help the Southern cause.

Gentlemen, things aren’t looking good. Those damn Yankees are pressing further and further south, exclaimed Howard Clemmons. We can’t just sit back and do nothing while they destroy everything we’ve worked for. We’re not idiots. I know if we put our heads together we can come up with a plan to help the South and just as importantly help ourselves. I know we’re already giving money, but that’s not enough. We need to come up with an idea to help stop those Yanks or at least slow them down.

The three other men, Charles Adamson, Lucas Wilson, and Tyson Barrett were in full agreement.

Lucas Wilson stated, There’s an old saying, ‘Cut off the snake’s head, and the body will die.’ I know we can’t cut enough heads off to kill the body, but maybe we can cut enough off so it won’t wiggle so much.

Just how do you propose to do that? asked Tyson.

I was thinking about getting rid of some of the officers, if we can figure out a way to do it, answered Lucas.

Sharp-shooting snipers! proclaimed Charles.

Sharp-shooting snipers? Charles, I think that whiskey has gone to your head. Where on earth would we find the men? Every able-bodied man worth his salt has already enlisted, said Howard.

What about over in the mountains. Those men are supposed to be really good marksmen and hunters. I bet some of them don’t even know there’s a war going on, replied Lucas.

Tyson added, But mountain folks are not horsemen. All they ride are plow mules. Some of them have probably never seen a good horse.

We have to get our priorities straight, interrupted Charles. They can learn how to ride, but excellent marksmanship is what we should be the most concerned about.

The men began discussing the idea more thoroughly. They realized they have no legal authority to do anything. This has to be devised and funded solely by the four of them. They have no official military connection; however, they do have a good friend, Colonel Zachary Roberts. Zach has a smaller plantation in a neighboring county. He is quite a bit younger than the four and is not regular army but volunteered after the war started. The few times the men had talked with him since the war began, they could tell he was not pleased by the way the war is going. They felt sure he would lend his expertise to their scheme and assist them in any way he could.

Needless to say, there was a lot more talking and drinking than there was poker playing the rest of that night. By daybreak the four men could hardly contain themselves. They had come up with an idea on how to recruit the sharp-shooting snipers, as they decided to call them, and how many they needed. They also decided what sort of men they wanted.

All right gentlemen, I think we have had a right productive night. We’ve decided we need six of the best marksmen we can find. Six men that are at least eighteen years old and have no family obligations to speak of, Howard repeated.

Right, said Charles, and I’ll start today finding ways to set up competitions in some of the mountain towns here in Tennessee. Founders’ Day Celebrations will be a good time to have them.

Tyson volunteered, I’ll find Zach and tell him our plan and see if he is going to help us. I hear he’s around Chattanooga.

We decided to give a five dollar gold piece to the winner, said Lucas, and it will be a winner take all contest, no second or third place, right?

All right gentlemen, replied Howard. It sounds like we can start getting things underway. We will meet back here in one month for our ‘poker game’. We’ll report our findings and see if we can pull this off.

The men all agreed and left for their homes. They were all excited and ready to get started. They had a plan, and by golly they were going to make it work.

A month later when the four men congregated again at Howard Clemmons’s plantation, the mood was one of eager anticipation.

Tyson shared his information concerning Colonel Zachary Roberts. He told the others that Zach was more than receptive to their idea.

He knows just the man to head up the group, Peter Westcott. He is a CSA soldier from the southeastern part of Ohio. Although he was reared in the North, he has allegiance to the South because of his Southern grandmother who cared for him most of his life. Zach says that Westcott is totally trustworthy and one of the best marksmen and horseback riders he has ever seen. Westcott knows a good place to hide, and he also knows a storekeeper who will supply them with food and tend to the horses we will provide for them. He will also be their go between and provide them with the information they need to perform their missions because he also runs a telegraph office. All of this will come for a nice price, however. Zach says everything will be in place by the first week in July."

Charles reported that he had found several communities over in the mountains that are planning Founders’ Day Celebrations. He and Lucas will take care of the contests, and they vowed to find the five best recruits available. All that is left for Howard to do is to coordinate the project and distribute the money.

The men left the meeting more excited and determined than ever to help the South—and in doing so, help themselves.

Chapter 3

Bull’s eye! yells the judge looking through his spyglass at the target. The crowd lets out a roar. Now it is Avery’s turn to shoot for the fourth time. Avery and James Wilcox had each shot at the targets three times and each had hit the bull’s eye three times. The boys had already out shot nine other men and boys.

Avery felt really good about his shooting. The Winchester rifle that had been provided for the contest was the sweetest gun he had ever held, much less shot. It felt like a part of him—an extension of his arm. Avery was ready for his fourth shot when one of the judges, Charles Adamson, called a halt. He said that the three judges needed to have a discussion. After a few minutes, they came to an agreement. Charles told the crowd that each contestant would shoot two more times. If the two were still tied, they would have a horse-riding contest.

The crowd started clapping. You could hear some of the men making small wagers as to who would win. Most were betting on James Wilcox. He is a Johnson City boy and better known to them. James is older, too. He is twenty-one years old, and his pa owns the only mercantile in town. Avery will be eighteen in five days and is hardly known in Johnson City.

Come on Avery, cried his sisters. We know you can do it.

Avery got set and aimed at the target for the fourth time. The crowd was silent.

Bang! the rifle discharged, and the crowd held their breaths until the judge proclaimed, Bull’s eye!

Yells and clapping went up from the well wishers.

Then it was James’s time to shoot. The crowd was silent again as he took aim and shot. Again the judge yelled, Bull’s eye!

By the time Avery was ready to shoot for the fifth time, he was feeling so confident that he thought he could shoot all day and hit the bull’s eye every time. James, on the other hand, was getting a little nervous. Even though he is older, he is not as sure of himself as Avery is.

It was time for the fifth and final chance for each boy. Avery stepped up, aimed, and fired.

Bang! The rifle exploded.

Avery’s sisters led the bystanders in clapping and yelling as the judge shouted, Bull’s eye, dead center!

James stepped up. A hush again fell over the crowd. James raised the rifle and took aim. He lowered the rifle and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. Again he took aim. Bang! The shot made it to the target. After a brief hesitation the judge shouted, Bull’s eye! The crowd exploded with clapping and shouting.

Wait! yelled Charles. Let’s take a closer look.

After looking more closely, Charles could tell that James’s shot hit the bull’s eye, but it was not dead center like the other boy’s was and, too, Charles had a feeling about the first shooter. Although he was younger, he could tell that the boy was very calm under pressure, a quality they were definitely looking for.

The three judges conferred. Charles wanted to declare Avery the winner, but the other two wanted to declare the contest a tie. They argued that James had hit the bull’s eye. It shouldn’t matter if it wasn’t dead center. Charles relented. The winner of the five dollar gold piece would be decided by a race on horseback to a designated point and back.

James and Avery’s ability to mount and ride their horses would decide the winner.

Okay boys, I will flip this five dollar gold piece. The winner will get to pick the horse he wants to ride, instructed Charles.

He flipped the coin and nodded at James and said, You call it.

James called, Tails.

Tails it is, relayed Charles.

James looked at the four horses that Charles had brought. He made a show of inspecting the horses’ hoofs and legs and mouths. In reality, he did not know anymore about good horse flesh than did most of the other people there, but after looking the horses over, he chose a roan gelding. While James was inspecting them, Avery was looking at the horses too. He knew which one James would pick because he was the best looking one. After James chose the gelding, Avery picked a lanky buckskin filly. He thought she would be faster and would handle better on the sharp turn.

The excitement of the crowd was at an all time high as the horses were put in place, and the boys were instructed where to stand. They were about fifty feet from where the horses were waiting.

On your mark, get ready, go! shouted one of the judges.

The boys took off running. James made a perfect saddle mount. He put his left foot in the stirrup and swung up and over as he grabbed the reins and took off. However, he was already about two seconds behind Avery who had run and put his hands on the horse’s rump and jumped upon her back. He had been mounting Jack like this since he was tall enough to reach his back. There was one big difference though. Jack always stood still until Avery told him to go. As soon as Avery put his hands on the filly’s back and started to spring up, she took off. Luckily, the reins stayed around the saddle horn, and Avery was agile enough to place himself in the saddle and grab the reins.

Charles was taking this all in. He was almost as impressed with Avery’s unorthodox mounting technique and ability to maneuver into the saddle as he was with his marksmanship.

Avery reached the turning point a good five lengths ahead of James, and things were looking good for him. The filly was in her element stretching the lead as they were coming in sight of the finish line. James all of a sudden began gaining on Avery. Avery’s heart sank when he realized that his horse was slowing down. Disappointment overtook Avery as he grasped the idea that something was wrong. The horse he was riding was trying to go on, but Avery knew she couldn’t. He pulled on the reins and started to dismount just as James galloped by on