The Badger's Revenge

“I said leave,” the Widow Fikes demanded.

“Mother, for the last time, keep quiet. Let Josiah speak,” Pearl snapped, her face hard and twisted with grief and danger now.

“Well!” The widow turned to walk away, the look on her face akin to having been slapped by Pearl. She stopped at the stairway, still within earshot, glaring and whimpering like a sullen pup at the same time.

“Tell me, Josiah, tell me what happened.”

Josiah drew in a deep breath. He caught a glimpse of Pedro, who had not moved, and who was not showing any emotion other than surprise. “Pete was desperate to win your love, you know that?”

“I do,” Pearl said, softly.

“He was also desperate for money. I do not know the hows, whens, or whys, but when the outlaw Charlie Langdon was hanged, Pete stepped in to fill the void. He took control and began accumulating money. He wanted enough to buy a large herd of cattle and have a pot of money to win your mother’s favor and to pay her debts. From what Pete said, she, too, is desperate for money. He and Liam O’Reilly were forging a relationship with Juan Cortina, a cattle rustling scheme that would have made them very wealthy, very quickly. I was sent to stop that union. At the time, I only knew of O’Reilly’s involvement. But I didn’t know Pete was involved. Not then.”

The Widow Fikes suddenly appeared at Pearl’s side, almost like she had flown there. “You, sir, are a liar. Now, I will not ask you again. Pedro, have this man removed from the property. That’s an order!”

“I’m sorry, Pearl,” Josiah said, ignoring the widow. He was bound and determined for Pearl to hear the rest of his story. “Pete pulled his gun. I have never killed a man that I didn’t have to. It was me or him.”

Pedro stepped out of the alcove, his shoulders squared and a rifle in his hand. “Senor Wolfe, please respect the madam’s wishes and leave.”

Josiah nodded, and he stared directly into Pearl’s eyes and said, “I’m sorry,” one more time, then turned and walked toward his waiting horse.

Just as he was about to climb up onto the saddle, Pearl rushed to Josiah and threw her arms around him, burying her tearstained face in his neck. “Don’t you see, Josiah, we are free. This is not bad news,” she said, in a soft voice so only he could hear her.

“No,” he whispered. “We’re not free, Pearl. I have only made things worse for you. Not only has a division been drawn between your mother and you, you now know the truth. Your entire way of life is at stake, and there’s nothing I can do to help you.” He pulled away, quickly kissed her on the forehead without lingering, then climbed up on Clipper as quick as he could.

Pearl trembled, the tears flowing heavily, as she crumpled to the ground in a pile of sobs. Pedro and her mother rushed to her as Josiah moved Clipper slowly away and headed down the path, urging the horse to go as fast as it could once he was certain that he wasn’t going to flip dirt or mud on the trio, fighting the whole time not to look back, not to turn back, not to sweep Pearl up and ride off with her forever.

Ofelia sat on the porch, waiting, as Josiah hitched up Clipper. The moon had risen high in the sky, and there was not a cloud to be seen. A soft glow emanated from inside the small house, and the familiar smell of menudo wafted on the cool night air. There was a solemn look on the Mexican woman’s face as Josiah made his way to her.

“It’s good to be home,” he said.

“For a short time, again, senor?” Ofelia asked. There was hardly ever a change in her appearance. She was the one constant in his life. Her clothes—a simple skirt, apron, and white blouse—were always the same, and no matter how many days passed, her face did not acquire wrinkles, and her hair did not seem to add any new gray strands. She was as ageless as a rock . . . at least to Josiah.

“I don’t know what the future holds, Ofelia. Do you need more time away, now that your family is here?” Josiah stiffened, feeling a little unsure if Ofelia were going to leave—or wanted to. He wouldn’t blame her. She had sacrificed so much for him, for so little in return. The guilt he felt about that was immeasurable.

Ofelia smiled. “ Usted esta mi familia. You are my family. You and Lyle. I do not know what the future holds, either. But I wish only happiness for you, senor.”

“Happiness seems as far away as the moon,” Josiah said, releasing a breath, relaxing.

“I see you happy when Miss Pearl is near.”

Josiah shook his head and sat down next to Ofelia. “I am happy when I am here, with Lyle. And you, of course.”

They both looked out onto the empty street. A train blew its whistle in the distance, and Josiah knew that before long, the house would rumble as the train pulled into town. He was not used to the sound and the shake of the house, but he got the impression that Ofelia and Lyle paid little mind to the comings and goings of the trains. They had adjusted to city life, while he had not, was not sure he ever would—or that he ever wanted to.

“Someday, Lyle needs a mamacita, and you need a soft place to fall into after you have exhausted yourself. This life you live will make you a hard man, senor, and that is not the true Josiah Wolfe that I know.” Ofelia looked up at Josiah, a knowing look on her face. “Miss Lily would want you to love again. It is time, senor, to leave the past behind.”

“I don’t know what to think about that,” Josiah said. “There’s a storm coming.”

“The sky is clear.”

“Oh, trust me, it’s coming.”

The train blew its whistle again. This time, Josiah felt the first vibration under his feet, felt the shake of the earth grow stronger, closer, and he knew all he could do was sit there and wait.

EPILOGUE

The town of Comanche sat on the horizon. Josiah eased Clipper to a trot. Lady Mead followed closely behind, tied loosely with a rope.

It was a comfortable day, a bit cool as December came on, but nothing that would kill you if you slept out in it, like all of the stories he’d heard about up north. He hoped to go there someday, see deep snow and real winter for himself, but he had other things to do at the moment.

He carried Charlie Webb’s clothes and Colt Frontier in the saddlebag, and he was wearing his own gun, the Colt Peacemaker, and carrying his own Winchester in the scabbard. Somehow, he’d managed to put himself back together.

The Webb house was just up the road a bit, and Josiah was glad to see a thin line of smoke snaking up out of the chimney.

It was dry, unlike the last time he’d been at the house, nearly a month back, when the ground was soaked and muddy. A lot had happened since he’d sought refuge in Billie Webb’s barn, endured a storm, and helped deliver her baby. He hoped it had been a happy month for Billie, though he knew it would be hard for her raising a baby on her own.

There was no hurry to Clipper’s gait, and Josiah didn’t push the horse. He took his time riding up to the house, more relaxed, especially after seeing the smoke, than he’d felt in a long time. He aimed to deliver the things Billie had given him to survive, say his thanks, see to it that she was in fine shape, then head back home to Austin.

The bright sun beamed down on the house, and it was nearing midday. Chickens clucked around the front of the house, and a cow grazed in the pasture, chewing a thick cud of grass. The place hadn’t been worked much since Josiah was there last, but there were signs that some kind of order had returned.

Josiah rode up to the house, eased off Clipper, and tied the horse to a wobbly hitching post.

When he turned to head up to the door, Billie was standing on the stoop staring at him with a slight smile on her face.

She’d obviously lost her belly, and Josiah almost didn’t recognize her. Her curly brown hair was brushed across her shoulders, matching her deep blue eyes, and she was slimmed down in a yellow cotton dress that