Candice is running from a husband. Kitty is looking for love. The ills of saloon life in the late 1800s have trapped them. They set off, to tame the West.
Excerpt
“Where’s the whores?” an angry voice, hollered, ricocheting off the steep canyon walls.
Minds stirring, the men’s labors stopped. “I know she killed Andy,” a voice drawled, “but she’s awful handsome.”
Arguments ensued: “Hang her,” a testy voice shouted. “She killed our friends.”
“She’s too handsome to hang!” a miner said as he stared at her stilled body.
“Ain’t we forgettin’ somethin’?” A deep voice heightened as a miner said, “It was a fair fight. You ain’t got no cause to hang her.”
“Yep,” another miner said, “She’s too purty to hang.
A gleam in one miner’s eyes grew. He grinned and said, I reckon she’s the marrying sort.” His hands fidgeted with gold weighing his pockets down.
“You have to pay,” James loudly announced.
“What fer?” miners shouted, their anticipation growing.
“Is she alive?” an anxious man asked.
“How much does it cost if she’s dead?” a crusty old-timer asked, surveying Kitty’s still form.
The men watched as James dragged Kitty toward a nearby stream and then submerged her mud-laden body carefully into the slow-moving water.
The men stared with lust in their eyes as mud disappeared, exposing Kitty’s natural attributes.
“Huh?” Kitty came instantly awake. “Get off of me!” she hissed, her brain still foggy.
Everybody stepped back, their eyes widening. A deep silence set in as leering grins formed on each face.
The cold water teased her, offering instant relief, reminding Kitty of simple pleasures. Goose bumps formed on her skin as shivers shot up and down her bony spine.
With deep… long… sighs…Kitty willingly disrobed.
James’ eyes darted from her to the gaping men, who seemed lost in her beauty. His eyes, too, settled on Kitty’s lovely body.
Refreshed and comfortable and with her eyes half opened, Kitty lightly said, “Thank you.” Then she offered James a tiny smile.
With his heart pounding, his thoughts changed. Slowly he asked, “Ma’am, have you ever been to San Francisco?”
Kitty, filling with anger, screamed, “Turn away! Where are your manners! I thought you were a gentleman.”
Holding tight to her exposed breasts, she jumped from the water. “Get away!” she screamed. “You’re just like the rest.”
Men eased back, keeping their distance.
“I’m not a whore!” she insisted, grabbing her soaked clothes and quickly dressing. With her heart racing, her hands fumbled for her hidden gun. “Back off!”
“You heard the lady. Back off!” James eased the triggers on both barrels of his shotgun. “You can’t have her!” he shouted. Lifting the rifle, he challenged any man to touch her.
Kitty enjoyed the protection.
“You men need to get!” he said again. “Take that gold dust with you.”
Ugly murmurs grew. Men, heads shaking, stepped away.
His eyes steady on the men, protecting her in a way James never thought possible, he said, “Ma’am, you’ll like my soft bed.”
Kitty’s heart raced. Fatigued, but grateful, she threw a glance and a warm smile at James saying, “I’m grateful for your hospitability and I’d love to marry you.”
James studied his surroundings. ”Can you cook?” he questioned.
“Kitty placed one hand at her waist and calmly said, “Of course.”
James nodded. “I got beans and bacon. Can you cook that?”
“Why…” Kitty’s heart leaped as she studied James’s fancy clothes and soft hands. “When was the last time you had biscuits?”
James’ voice softened as he said, “Back in San Francisco last spring.”
“You’ve been there?” Kitty’s eyes suddenly filled with emotion, “Is it as pretty as I’ve heard?”
James studied her petite figure, nodding. “Rooms have spring beds, and there are more cars than horses on the streets.”
“I ain’t…I’ve never seen a car,” Kitty corrected her words, eyes swollen with wonder.
“You are the prettiest picture I’ve ever seen.”
Read more about Bodie or Bust and Debbie Madison HERE.
Copyright 2008 Debbie Madison. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.
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