Page from a Tennessee Journal (AmazonEncore Edition)

now.”
    Almost at the door, Alex stopped, turned, and stared at her. “Becky. I’m goin’ for your aunt Becky.” Panic spurted out of his mouth. His hand reached for the door latch. “Where’s your aunt?”
    “No good…took…Doug…Lot…Hettie…” The scream jumped out of her mouth before she could corral it.
    He ran to her side just as the pain took all of her air. “Hettie? You sayin’ Rebecca’s gone to Hettie’s?” Alex shook his head. “No good. She’s with Ben Roy. Don’t know if he’s done with her yet.”
    As her insides fought to burst through her body, Annalaura tried to lift an arm to reach out to him.
    “Safe. Becky’s safe. Knife. Then go.” The pain eased up just enough to get the words out.
    Alex didn’t move.
    “Knife to cut the pain. Put it under the bed.” She nodded toward Becky’s safe before she sank back into the pillow.
    Alex started to pace the floor, ignoring her. He threw more kindling into the fireplace and poked the embers into flame as he stared at her.
    “Birthin’ a calf.” The frown lightened as he muttered.
    A moan pushed out of Annalaura’s bruised lips. Becky was beyond her reach and could offer no help. And now Alex was talking out of his head. She watched him drop the poker to the brick hearth. He rushed to the other side of the cabin. Alex fetched a bucket of water, Becky’s dish-drying towels, and a knife. Annalaura turned her head to see him set the pail in the flames of the fireplace and splash the knife into the water before he returned to her side. She inched a hand out to him again.
    “My grandma said…knife under bed…cut pain.” She let her hand fall against the bedcovers as she felt the winds of a tornado begin their slow wind-up in her stomach.
    She said her last prayers. Lord, take pity on my motherless children. Let Alex get out of this cabin before John gets here. She closed her eyes, the better to see death coming.
    “If it’s like birthin’ a calf, the hot knife will cut the cord clean.” Alex climbed on the bed, knelt behind her, and shifted her weight from the pillow to his chest.
    Calves. Cows. What was the man talking? The winds of the tornado picked up.
    “Ahm…my God. It’s stuck. Can’t get it out.” The iron bar moved to her belly and held her fast. If only dying didn’t hurt this much.
    “It’ll come.” Alex, his voice carrying a sudden strength, took her hand, and with his, slid it down her belly.
    “When a mother cow gets stuck like this, I rub on her belly to get her to moo it out. Each time we rub yo’ belly, you grunt it out.” Alex shifted her body higher up against his chest.
    Annalaura let her head rest under his chin, her knees bent. Alex was right. This was a less hurting way to die. She felt the strength of Alex’s grip on her hand as he rubbed down her belly.
    “It’s comin’.” The scream burst out of her as the old cabin splintered into a hundred logs all rushing to get out of her at once. “Alex, help me. It’s comin’.” Her eyes clamped shut, she felt him shift her weight from his chest back onto Becky’s wadded-up pillow and bedcovers.
    Alex moved down to her spread legs. She opened her eyes enough to see the top of his head. Dozens of logs jammed inside her as each one turned and twisted to find the opening.
    “Help meeee. ”
    With death tightening the baling wire, somewhere Annalaura felt the hand of Joshua reach in to free the jam just like he fought the battle of Jericho in the Good Book.
    “Laurie, another grunt. One more good grunt.” It was a saint’s hand she felt, but Alex’s voice she heard.
    “Can’t Alex. I got no mo’.” Though the sainted hand wrestled with the devil, the logjam started its move back up into her belly. Even the saints couldn’t save her.
    “I can touch the head. Laurie, you got to grunt one mo’ time.” Alex laid one hand on her belly and pushed down. “Give me yo’ hand.”
    Did he want to hold her hand when he bid her good-bye? She hadn’t asked for another man in her bed, or in her life, but if one had to come, she would thank the Good Lord when they soon met, that he had sent Alex. She stretched her hand toward him. The tips of her fingers brushed his. At first touch, Alex grabbed her fingers and squeezed hard. A new pain shot sharp jabs up her arm, and her yelp exploded into the room. The logs, stuck together in her womb, splintered apart and began to slide out of her belly, one by one. Annalaura dropped her head back onto