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"You're a cheating, lowdown, double-crossing, lily-livered bitch...." His hand hovered above his six-gun. "Brodie." Millain's voice halted her in her tracks. So.She sighed and turned to face him. His head jerked up and he stared at her.
When she saw it was indeed only a scratch, she felt unaccountably worse rather than better. "Why must you be so hard on your clothes?" she complained, knowing she was being unreasonable but unable to stop herself. Her right biceps stung and she glanced down and registered blood-soaked fabric. A vein in his temple was bulging and his face was red.
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Then there had been the scuffle outside the Wells Fargo Office.... The mare was waiting patiently for her at the shady hitching post outside the jail. She tucked the burlap sack into a saddlebag and patted the horse's neck.
"No call to treat me that way, Deputy. I'm within my rights." Disgustedly, he kicked a wooden crate that lay on the ground next to the stage, and she heard the tinkling of broken glass. A crowd of passengers and passers-by had gathered next to the stage. She broke into a run as she realised that they were watching two men fight. Adah Riker stepped back and began to close the door.
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Her next hand was a better one - a straight - and Zee bid up to her limit, only to be beaten at the last minute by Millain's straight flush. Straight flushes were rare, and the ex-riverboat gambler was getting entirely too many of them. She had suspected he was cheating, now she was sure of it.
"Drew on me," explained the dark-haired woman, her tone unconcerned. "Got lucky and nicked me too." She indicated the red bandanna wrapped around her biceps, which Christie had been wondering about. "Hey, Darlin'. Something sure smells good." Two strides brought the deputy to Christie's side, then she was in the tall woman's arms. She was returning the kiss enthusiastically, when something caught the corner of her eye. She shook her head and stood up, taking a third of the money for herself then pushing the rest towards a startled Silas and Bob. "Split that between you." She tucked the guardianship papers in her pocket.
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The reality of it was a little overwhelming. It was loading Taylor's supplies and selecting the surprise bolt of dress fabric that had taken the time - Zee had absolutely no idea if the colour would be to the blonde's taste or not. As the cards were dealt, you could have heard a pin drop. Breaths were bated, eyes eager, as the crowd of onlookers watched the progress of the game.
"Stay clear of it, Darlin'. There's glass on the floor." "Wait here." Zee deposited a disappointed Christie carefully back on her own two feet. Then she drew one of her Colts, cocked it in one smooth movement, and with her left hand relieved Christie of the lamp. Four hours later, Christie lay in the back of the buckboard, hands laced comfortably over her stomach, staring hazily up at the stars, and conceded that she'd thoroughly enjoyed her evening. The corner of Zee's mouth quirked and Christie silently dared her to make just one, just one, smart-aleck comment.
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While Bob dealt the cards, she pushed back her hat and leaned back in her chair. Surreptitiously, she gave Millain the once over. Silas and Bob exchanged a wry look - this morning's killing of Polly had not endeared the New Orleans gambler to anyone - then they shrugged. "She'll love it. And what better way to introduce the two of you into more respectable circles? It can only do Zee's standing in Benson good."
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She had discovered (with mixed feelings - they felt wonderful on the skin but were hard to launder) that the satin sheets were only on loan from the brothel too. After that, she made some more lemonade, then found a scrap of paper and stub of pencil and sat down to make a list of all the things they would need in order to turn this house into a home. A story that follows a family of four leading harmonious and contented lives. When a mysterious visitor starts residing in their basement, their lives are turned upside down as strange events begin to occur. Still shaking her head at the silver miner's antics, Zee made her way out of the crowded room. Outside the Golden Slipper, she paused beside her mare and glanced up the street.
"It's fine." Christie relaxed against her, and Zee gave in to the urge to press her lips against blonde hair. "Anyway, making this place spick-and-span will give me something to do while you're at work." Zee brought the buckboard to a halt beside them. "Hands off, Hogan. She's spoken for." Though I researched the period and place in which this story is set, I have taken extensive liberties with both.
Aiohow.org is not responsible for third party website content. It is illegal for you to distribute copyrighted files without permission. The media files you download with aiohow.org must be for time shifting, personal, private, non commercial use only and remove the files after listening. Home Sweet Home is a 1980 Australian comedy television series produced by the Australian Broadcasting Corporation, starring John Bluthal.
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He crushed his hat against his expanding belly (the result of too many peach pies?) and glanced assessingly at his surroundings. The kitchen seemed to meet with his approval. When the worst of the dust had been successfully brushed into the yard, she fetched a mop and a pail of their precious water and started washing down the walls.
"You're the mistress of the house." She took another gulp of her drink. The late lunch had been reduced to crumbs on plates, and they were drinking lemonade and lazily bantering about whether 'now' had become 'later' , when there came a loud knock at the back door. "Just glad Angie didn't think to do this place up like the Palace," she explained. "Wouldn't have put it past her." A thought struck her. "Damn. The bedroom...." They exchanged horrified looks.
