The Bold Frontier by John Jakes

Author:John Jakes [Jakes, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Western, (v5), Historical
ISBN: 9780451204196
Google: DA6ZMa8sgPoC
Amazon: 0451204190
Barnesnoble: 0451204190
Goodreads: 71769
Publisher: Signet
Published: 2001-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Little Phil and the Daughter of Joy

“WHOA, THAT’S NEW,” ROLF Greencastle said. He couldn’t help sounding alarmed.

“Yes, it is,” Jimmy said. She slid an old cloth along the short squat barrel of the .44-caliber Deringer she’d taken from the drawer of her writing desk. It was an old piece. Rolf always thought of it as the Gold Rush gun because his talkative uncle Wallace, one of the failed argonauts, had often mentioned the large number of .44 Deringers carried by men in the diggings. It was an outmoded weapon, but a murderous one.

Spring sunshine through the lace curtains ignited a little white fire at one spot on the metal. Jimmy rubbed and rubbed at the barrel, though it was spotless. Sunshine falling on her flexing wrist illuminated the white scars there. Rolf was silent and a little bug-eyed over the unexpected sight of the piece.

He considered the awkwardness of another remark. Her three-word reply had shut the door on easy continuation of the conversation. After several moments of combing his fingers through his shoulder-length hair, he decided that this was serious enough for him to bull right ahead.

“What is it?”

Jimmy gazed at him with those wide eyes that reminded him of a beautiful gray he’d ridden as a boy in Ohio. Jimmy’s eyes were her beautiful feature; she was otherwise a plain young woman, with wrinkles already laid into her face by the ferocious Kansas weather and no doubt by her trade, which required her to deal with all sorts of rough types, from customers to her pimp (she had none at the moment). He had known her a little more than a year, both socially and in the biblical sense, and in that time he’d learned that she had a history of violent behavior, sometimes directed against herself.

“Why, it’s a genuine Henry Deringer. I bought it in Dodge last Saturday.”

“I mean what’s it for, Jimmy? Is somebody bothering you or making threats?”

“Why, no, I’m going to use it when General Phil Sheridan arrives next month to inspect the fort. I’m going to kill him with it.”

Rolf Greencastle almost fell off his chair in the process of removing his bare feet from the edge of her table. He crashed them down on top of his fancy boots with the pointed toes and mule ears; Rolf was of the opinion that a cavalry scout had to project a special aura—one so strong and awe-inspiring that the officers who signed his pay authorization would think he knew exactly what he was doing even when he didn’t.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me,” Jimmy said. She kept her eyes on him. It was a disconcerting habit. She kept them open even when she was bare naked on her back, taking care of him.

“That’s a pretty damn strange thing to admit to me or anybody, Jemima Taylor.”

“I wish you wouldn’t use that name. My daddy gave it to me and it’s the only thing he ever did that I hate.”

“Let’s get back to the subject of Little Phil Sheridan.

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