Free The Badger's Revenge by Larry D. Sweazy Page B

the night. Josiah still wasn’t sure if he was awake or in the midst of one of his common nightmares.
    â€œWhat the hell are you doin’ in my barn?”
    Josiah started to answer the question, but stopped when the barrel of the rifle at his lips was pushed just a little harder. This person meant business. Josiah was fully awake now.
    â€œDon’t answer that. I know why you’re here. You’re that Ranger that the sheriff’s lookin’ for, ain’t you?”
    Josiah didn’t move, just blinked his eyes, clearing his vision. He saw his accuser clearly now, at the other end of the rifle, a .50 carbine, and was a little surprised.
    The gun was held by a girl, well not quite a girl, a young woman, maybe twenty years old.
    Tangled brown hair fell over her shoulders, and she was dressed in a blue cotton dress that matched the color of her eyes, topped with an oversized woolen, four-button man’s sack coat. The color of the coat had nearly bled out of it, and it was as gray as the coming winter sky. The girl’s eyes were cold, hard as the metal of the rifle in her hands, not showing fear but outright anger and indignation.
    The dress would have been loose-fitting at any time, but now she looked to be in the late stages of pregnancy. Her belly was full and rounded, dropped low at the waist, protruding like she’d stuffed two full-grown pumpkins up under the dress. Her breasts protruded, full and ripe obviously, the cleavage deep, but thankfully hidden mostly by the pull of the simple sack coat. Her feet were bare and dirty.
    â€œWell? You are, ain’t you? You’re that Ranger everybody’s lookin’ for?” the girl demanded, pulling the rifle away from Josiah’s dry mouth about an inch. “You best answer me, mister. I’m in a foul mood the way it is, lackin’ sleep like I am.”
    Josiah nodded yes. “I am.”
    â€œNow what in hell’s tarnation does the sheriff want with a man like you?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    â€œWhat you mean you don’t know?”
    â€œIt’s a long story.”
    â€œI ain’t got the time nor the patience for long stories or tall tales at the moment. Stand up.”
    â€œI didn’t do anything wrong.”
    â€œDo I look like I care? You’re in my barn, causing me grief and they’re certain to come back once they figure where you done hid the night out. Ain’t that enough?”
    â€œI didn’t mean to bother you.”
    â€œI said stand up.” The girl bounced the barrel of the carbine, motioning for him to move sooner rather than later.
    â€œI don’t know if I can.”
    â€œWhy’s that?”
    â€œGot a wound. A flesh wound I think.”
    The girl stared at Josiah for a long, hard second, running her eyes up and down the mound of hay he’d buried himself in. There was a dried puddle of blood at his feet.
    â€œNow all of this is about to cause me to scream. This is the last damn thing I need right now. Can’t you see I’m about to birth a baby?”
    â€œI can see that,” Josiah said, looking away.
    There was no way the girl could understand his sadness at the sight. The emotion trumped his fear, but only for a moment. He knew he had to push away any thought of his lost family and his living son if he wanted to get out of the barn, and Comanche, alive.
    Dull morning light filtered into the barn. The double doors were open, and it looked to be a rainy day outside. The coolness of the night had yet to fade, overtaken by the wind of the day, running due west from one side of the barn to the other, droplets of rain pushing in through the cracks. It was easy to tell it was going to be an uncertain November day, the chill hanging on every breath of air like a bad memory.
    The rain was steady—and from what Josiah had seen on the ride the day before, the town looked like it needed a big drink of water. But as far as he was