Baby

frayed his reserves. Before long, Wil’s eyes drooped, allowing deadly sleep to claim him, mercifully allowing his demons a respite.
    Startled awake by the sound of a far off gun shot, his heart thudded rapidly causing him to break into an acrid sweat. Widening his eyes, he saw the barrel of his own rifle sighting down at him. What the …? Strong arms grabbed him, lifting him off his feet. He felt a solid punch to his solar plexus, squashing his breath back down his trachea. Another fist mainlined right to his face. They dropped him to the ground, stomping him thoroughly. A boot landed in his face, smashing his nose, another kicked in his kidneys. They suddenly stopped as a large man in a dressing gown approached. He held one hand in his pocket. Ordering the men to pick Wil up, he put one arm around his shoulders, prompting him to stumble to the front of the house.
    Blood dripped from Wil’s nose briefly then stopped. He straightened up, the pain from his beating gone. Slapping him on the back, the man gave Wil a long glacial glare.
    “Well, well, you sure took that beating well.” He searched Wil’s body looking for signs of injury from the brutal beating inflicted on him. The man’s eyes narrowed.
    “Go home, boy. Before I have my boys give you another dose of our hospitality.”
    Wil slowly walked down the drive, now minus his rifle, disconsolate, and wondering why his pain was gone. His confusion distracted him so much, he failed to sense the weight of two gold coins, now nestled comfortably in the back pocket of his workpants. He trudged down the road to collect Maggie, defeat and humiliation weighing him down like a child who just lost his underwear to a schoolyard bully. He should never have come. He should have stayed with Netty. She needed him more than he needed to vent his anger. He felt awash in impotence and faced a very long ride home. Poor Maggie, she was in for a long haul again, too. At least she had a chance for a rest. Maybe he could locate some oats and water for her before they took off. Rounding the bend where he left her tied, he spotted her lying on the ground, her face splattered in blood. What the …? Running up to her, his shocked eyes tried to deny the truth of the fresh bullet hole in her temple, brain splatter creeping from under her velvet majestic head. No. Not Maggie, please—not my beautiful girl. He slump his head down on hers. She still felt warm, but he knew—she was gone. Oh, God, why? What have I done to displease you so? Overcome with shock, he kissed her still damp tender muzzle, lay down in the dirt and broke down, thoroughly defeated.

Chapter 7
    Netty frequently lost track of time but thought it had been at least two weeks since Wil left the cabin, forcing her to wonder if she might lose her sanity if he stayed away one more day.
    “You are sure he said four days, Baby?”
    “Yes, Sister; four rotations of the sun happened many rotations ago. I do not think Brother is coming back.”
    “Why do you say that, Baby? Wil would never desert us. We are a family. He loves us. He knows we are waiting for him.”
    “I know, Sister. I need Brother to bring Maggie back. It is time to turn out the Jerseys. Maybe I need to go find him.” The aura’s faded from her mind as Baby’s long fingers closed spasmodically, a sure sign of agitation. She pulled Baby up to her lap for comfort, her endless tears dripping down to soak into his fur as she reflected on their lonely wait.
    She woke up the day after she lost the baby, feeling like a hunk of dead meat that did not know enough to stay down. Baby clung, thankfully, to her side every moment. She forced herself up to check on the Jerseys and found Wil’s note. Reading, she realized Wil went to find Eli. A better solution might be to call the sheriff, if they only owned a telephone. She needed Wil desperately. She just wanted his arms around her, telling her things would be good again. She walked around the cabin in a time warp, not bathing, dressing or combing her now ratty hair. What was the point without Wil?
    She had been forced to bury their child by herself. She found it wrapped up in the barn where Wil set the poor thing. At least Baby accompanied her while she said goodbye. They did it together. Throwing dirt on her and Wil’s baby as it lay in the primitive grave felt like throwing dirt on their past life together. She held Baby tightly as she cried over the grave, rocking him slowly in her arms. They walked back