Nunslinger 2

by Stark Holborn

Genres: Action & Adventure; Christian Western; Westerns; Historical Romance; Western Romance; Alternative History sci-fi

Synopsis

The year is 1864. Sister Thomas Josephine is on her way from St Louis, Missouri, to Sacramento, California. During the course of her journey, however, she'll find that her faith requires her to take off her wimple and pick up a gun... NUNSLINGER Book II relates the true tale of how Sister Thomas Josephine of St Louis, Missouri, comes to be wanted for murder and faces the hangman's noose in Carson City, Nevada. Only by relying on the help of an armload of fancy women and a wily old friend does she have any hope for escape!

Release date: December 26, 2013

Publisher: Hodder & Stoughton

Print pages: 80

Sample

CHAPTER EIGHT

The reproach of men, and the outcast of the people

 

Slowly, the water around me became tinged with pink, like the sky at dawn. I scrubbed and scrubbed every inch of my skin, ridding it of the dried blood. I had sat there for more than an hour, the bath water growing cold around me, but I could not yet bring myself to leave.

The act of washing had renewed me, recalled to mind the presence of the Lord and his healing power. Slowly, I drew the washcloth from fingertip to elbow, praying that my sins might thus be stripped from me. Eyes were watching my lips, the soundless pattern they made.

The women were ranged around like birds, perched on every surface, gazes fixed upon me. All the brothel’s residents, save for June. She I had not seen. Nettie had been given a spare bed for the time being, and had fallen asleep almost as soon as a blanket had been settled over her.

The need to wash had been paramount in my mind. Face coloring, I lowered the cloth with a splash. My request for privacy, peace, for a bowl of cold water only, had been overridden, and now I sat before them, an exhibition in a tin tub.

‘Might there be soap?’ I managed to ask, with as much dignity as I could muster. There was a great scramble then, as one, then another, produced hard chunks. Some were perfumed with violets, worn to slivers, but I chose the most humble, rough and homemade, such as we might have produced in the convent. I turned my body away from them as best I could and scrubbed at my hair until my fingers were sore.

I did not realize that the room had fallen silent until I sluiced the last of it from my scalp and looked up. June stood in the doorway, her face as unreadable as it had been in the jail. I wondered how long she had been watching me. Deliberately, her eyes lingered over my body, head and face, my ribs, showing through my skin. I closed my arms over my chest, wishing for some shield from the scrutiny.

‘Paxton were here,’ she announced, as if bored. ‘Wanted to search the outbuildings. I don’t believe he suspects nothing, but he’ll be back; he ain’t a total ass.’ Her address took in the rest of the women then, ranged about the room. ‘She’s got one day. At dawn tomorrow she’s out, hear?’

A murmur of assent ran through the room. Then she was gone, the door swinging behind her.

‘Don’t mind her, she din’t want none to do with it,’ one of the younger girls said in a burst, coming forward with a sheet. ‘Said it were too dangerous but rest of us were for it.’

I took the cloth gratefully, and rose from the water, wrapping myself shoulder to ankle. The women crowded around, their powder and perfume surrounding me. I had not been wholly secluded from the world in St. Louis, and had sometimes seen women of the night on the streets there, but never to speak to up close.

Now, their loose dresses, corsets and bared flesh were enough to make me blush, so I looked instead into their faces. Beneath the rouge and shadow I was relieved to find eyes that could have belonged to any woman, curiosity and good humor in their expressions.

‘Nettie raised the alarm,’ a woman I remembered was called Sarah told me, gathering up my habit. ‘Scratchin’ at the back door like a stray cat. Said we were the only ones to speak to her… after. Course we knew she were with child. Whole town knew.’

‘Wade, he beat on one of the girls, ‘bout a year back,’ whispered the youngest woman, dark eyes wide. ‘Beat her so bad her head ain’t right now. June wouldn’t let him in after that, so guess he started getting his fix on the kid.’

‘Not one person in this town sorry to see him gone.’ Sarah’s voice was like flint, and the other women fell silent. ‘Not one, save for. . .