Hart the Regulator 1 by John B. Harvey

Author:John B. Harvey
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: cattle rustlers, belle starr, john harvey, piccadilly publishing, hart the regulator, western pulp fiction
Publisher: Piccadilly Publishing

Chapter Nine

Belle Starr stood on the planking outside the cabin, her long face set into a frown. Incongruous against the background of rough-hewn wood and ramshackle tile, she was wearing a gown of deep-green velvet which swept past her booted feet and spread sideways over the floor. The neck and bodice of the gown were decorated with close patterns of white lace; at the waist it was circled by a dull leather gun belt, the loops filled with shells, the holster with a .36 Manhattan pistol. She looked round at the other cabins, three of them ranged to her left, and her face did more than frown. Above her straight nose, her dark, lustrous eyes shone dangerously.

She pushed at the angle of dark hair which crossed her forehead beneath the brim of her plumed hat and mouthed a curse.

‘Sam!’

She slapped the riding crop that hung from her right wrist against her leg.

‘Sam! Will you drag yourself out here?’

She stomped one foot on the uneven boards and the door to the cabin opened and a tall, slim man appeared, buttoning the top of his pink shirt, the material of which was ringed with succeeding circles of dirt and sweat.

‘Huh, you callin’?’

The crop came down against Belle’s leg a second time and her eyes flashed.

‘You bet I called. Are we shiftin’ them damned horses or ain’t we?’

‘Sure we are. But we can’t do nothin’ till them boys come in from Deep Fork an’ you know it.’ He scratched at his side and then the top of his leg. ‘Why don’t you quit belly-achin’ and make a man some coffee or somethin’?’

The riding crop swung loosely from Belle’s wrist as she faced him, looking up at his dark-skinned face in which the lines of his Cherokee blood showed clear.

‘You want coffee, you make it. I ain’t your slave. Not yours or any other man’s.’

‘Jesus Christ! Who said anythin’ about bein’ a slave? All I said was I wanted a cup of coffee. Is that too much to ask round here? ‘Cause if it is, maybe there’d best be some changes.’

The crop swung and cracked the air. ‘There’ll be some changes right enough, but they won’t be nothin’ to do with coffee. This outfit’s been gettin’ so damned slack it’s a wonder we ain’t fell clear apart. That’s what’s goin’ to be changed. I’m goin’ to make damned sure it does.’

‘I don’t see...’

‘No, you don’t. Sam, you don’t see nothin’ ’cept what dribbles off the end of your nose.’

‘That ain’t...’

‘You can shut up an’ listen. With all you men round here, the only one with any balls is me. When I holler you an’ everyone else had better jump an’ jump fast.’

Sam’s face flushed and he took a lurching step towards her, fist raised. ‘I told you before, you ain’t goin’ to talk to me that way an’ get...’

Belle leaned back on her left side and pulled her right arm high. The crop whistled through the air and cracked hard across the side of Sam’s face, splitting the skin above the cheekbone.

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