runninâ after a youngâun and tryinâ to do all of Charlieâs work, too.â
âIâm sorry,â Josiah said.
âJust the way it is. I couldnât just stop, not with my belly growinâ every day. Maybe ifân I wouldâve been without it, then I could have.â
Josiah fidgeted in the chair. âI understand.â
âI imagine you do.â Billie put the pot on the stove to boil. âYou look like a man whoâs seen more than his fair share of ugliness. You was in the war, wasnât you?â
âYes, maâam. The Texas Brigade.â
âI figured. Looks like you came back all in one piece.â
âMostly.â
âThatâs what Charlie wouldâve said, too. I knowed him since I was knee-high to a grasshopper, but I sure didnât know him when he came back from that fight.â
âWar changes a man.â
âUgliness does. Sure does. Charlie softened some after we married. But some nights heâd scream out, tremble like a scared little feller. You know what I mean?â
âI do,â Josiah said. âI do.â
âI âspect beinâ a Ranger is a lot like still beinâ at war.â
âNot so much. Itâs a different war, at least.â
âTheyâre all the same.â
Josiah nodded in agreement.
âYou got family?â Billie asked.
âA son, in Austin. Heâs two.â
âNo momma?â
Josiah shook his head no. âHer and my three daughters died. Fevers took âem.â He wasnât about to tell Billie that Lily had died giving birth to Lyle.
Billie took in a deep breath. âIâm sorry to hear that.â
âThanks.â
Neither of them said anything for a minute or so. A long minute. Time enough for the drafts to push much of the sadness and death out of the houseâat least as much as was possible.
âYou drink all of your coffee?â Billie asked.
âNearly.â
âNot hungry?â
Josiah nodded his head yes. âI was waiting for you.â
Billie smiled. âYou go on while I get out of these wet clothes.â
âYou sure?â
âI appreciate you beinâ a gentleman and all, Josiah Wolfe, but Iâm not much for food at the moment. Now, go on, eat.â
âYes, maâam.â Josiah didnât need to be told twice. He dug into the plate as if he hadnât had a decent meal in a year, like he had upon returning home that first day from the War Between the States.
Billie disappeared into the same room Josiah had changed clothes in. The house creaked as a gust of wind pushed against it. Rain pelted the single window, and for a brief moment, Josiah felt safe.
He lost himself in the meal, in the warmth from the stove, in Billieâs kindness. He nearly forgot about everything. The pain in his leg. OâReillyâs presence in Comanche. Scrapâs fate . . . And most of all, Lyle and Ofelia, waiting for his return in Austin. He was only supposed to be gone two days.
It was a moment to savor, just like the bacon, the fried bread, and the beans . . . because just as soon as he finished eating the meal, Josiah heard a loud thump in the other room and felt the floor shake.
A scream that matched the wind and the storm outside echoed inside the house, and without thinking, Josiah was on his feet, knowing full well what the tone of the scream meant.
CHAPTER 11
Billie lay on the floor motionless. Her face was drained of color, and there was a huge puddle seeping out from underneath her. The room smelled wet and sour.
âSomethinâ broke,â she whispered, her eyes flickering in painâor maybe fear.
Josiah nodded, and exhaled deeply. âI sure wish Ofelia was here,â he said, looking to the ceiling. He was kneeling at her side.
They never had got around to bandaging his leg, but that seemed to be a distant concern at the moment. The wind outside whistled as loud
C. J. Cherryh
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