The Badger's Revenge by Larry D. Sweazy Page A

as a locomotive, and rain hit the roof like stones dropping from the sky. Josiah sure hoped the house was built solid.
    Billie put her hand on her belly and tears began to stream down her face. “Damn you, Charlie. Damn it all to hell. Why ain’t you here? You promised you’d never leave me.”
    Josiah ignored the plea. There was nothing he could say to her to ease her pain and he knew it. Neither of them had the ones they loved in their lives to call on, to lean on, when they needed them the most.
    â€œCome on, let’s get you some dry clothes on and get you in bed. That baby’s gonna come whether the doc’s here or not,” Josiah said, standing up.
    It was a struggle, but with Josiah’s help, Billie pulled herself up and sat on the edge of the bed, groaning softly, her hand never leaving her stomach.
    â€œYou’ve done this before, ain’t you?” she asked, her mouth wide as she breathed in quick bursts.
    â€œNo, ma’am. I wish I could tell you I have.”
    â€œBut you had four children. What did you do? Go huntin’ while your wife laid in misery?”
    â€œI stood outside the door, watched the little ones after there was more than one. Ofelia, the comadrona , um, the midwife, was there for every one of the births of my children.”
    The scowl returned to Billie’s face as she regained normal breathing patterns. “You weren’t there for any of them?”
    â€œThe last one. My son.” Josiah hesitated, tried to force the memory out of his mind, but that was impossible.
    Lyle was born nearly a year after they had buried the last of their children. Lily’s pregnancy was a new hope, a rebirth of their family. But it wasn’t long into it that she started to grow weak. By the time the baby was due, the fevers had come for her. She died in labor, and with little time to spare, Josiah’s son, and only living child, was cut from Lily’s belly by Ofelia—with Josiah’s help.
    It was the saddest moment of his life.
    â€œ. . . But it was a difficult birth,” Josiah added, looking away from her, away from her stomach. Tears settled in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.
    â€œThis one ain’t gonna be easy,” Billie said.
    â€œI suppose it’s not. It’s your first pregnancy?”
    â€œYes,” Billie said. “And from the feel of it, I ain’t gonna be in no hurry to ever do it again.”
    â€œCan you change yourself into a dry dress?” Josiah asked.
    He wasn’t a praying man, although there were circumstances when he sure hoped for a certain outcome—but asking an unseen force for a favor seemed silly at the moment . . . when it was just the two of them, stuck in the middle of a storm, with Billie about to give birth.
    When Billie nodded yes, Josiah was greatly relieved. “I’ll be right outside the door if you need me.”
    â€œYou’re good at that.”
    â€œIt’s the last place I’d prefer to be at the moment.”
    â€œBeats bein’ out in the storm, a wanted man, a posse on your heels that won’t offer you a moment of justice,” Billie said.
    â€œI don’t mean to sound ungrateful. That’s not what I meant. I’m sure I’d be hanging from that live oak just outside the door, my feet dragging the ground, if it weren’t for your generosity.”
    â€œThis has to be hard for you. I can’t imagine losin’ a baby, much less three. But I don’t think I can do this myself.”
    â€œI’m not going anywhere,” Josiah said, easing out the door, closing his eyes, taking a deep breath, wishing he was the kind of man who could run right out of the house and not look back.
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    Billie’s bloodcurdling scream matched the roar of thunder over the house. Sweat and tears mingled as they streamed down her face. She looked like she was standing outside in the storm instead of lying on her