John C. Horst's Blog, page 15

“Hilola, Hilola.” The old gentlemen sang it like a tune. “It is a beautiful name.”

Selene ~ Albert Aublet “Hilola, Hilola.” The old gentlemen sang it like a tune. “It is a beautiful name.” The gambler threw down another winning hand and pinched his companion on the cheek again. “Do you know what your name means, my dear?”

“Gosh no.” Hilola blushed and looked at her hands. She was smitten with the old gambler.

“It is Arabic. It mean of the moon.”

Hilola shrugged her shoulders and then looked down at herself in her beautiful dress. Everyone at the table stole glances at her, as she was the loveliest creature they’d seen in a very long time.

The gambler watched the moonbeams play off the river as they sailed south. He looked up at the brightly shining moon in the evening sky and then back to his special guest. “It certainly is a fitting name, my child.” He suddenly looked at his watch, folded his present hand, and signaled to his entourage. “Gentlemen, it is time.” Allingham; Desperate Ride

“I’ll tell you so’s you won’t have to work up your dirty ‘magination.

“This is stupid.” She stood in front of him to make him look her in the eye. “Tell me what’s wrong!”

“You don’t think I know that getting the sail and the mast and getting those Indians to do all that work had not come at a price?”

“No. I know you know it came at a price.” She looked him in the eye and began to laugh; she laughed more loudly the more she thought of it. “Oh, I see.” She lost the smile and suddenly became angry. “I see. The whore traded her body for all that.” She pointed accusingly at the canvas in front of them. She twisted a cigarette and smoked and blew smoke at the shore and turned to look him in the eye.

“Take it back.”

“Take what back?”

“Callin’ me a whore.”

“I didn’t call you a whore.”

“You did. You thought it. You thought I’d do that with someone besides you and I want you to say you’re sorry for that.”

“I won’t.”

“Then we’re through.”

He shrugged and worked on the sail that had caused so much tension and unhappiness between them. He half muttered to himself. “If you do such things, then what am I to think?”

“What things?” She stood, feeling a bit smug. She’d make a good lawyer, he thought.

“You know what things. Hilola, it’s bad enough it happened, don’t make me say it. Don’t make me say what you did.”

She was furious now, furious at his superiority and his low thinking of her. “You know what I paid for all this?”

“Ah, yes, ah…no! But I’m not a child. I have an imagination.” He was blushing now.

“I’ll tell you so’s you won’t have to work up your dirty ‘magination. Three trade knives, a broken axe, and two squawfish, and, oh, yeah, a piece of broken mirror.” She turned away as he reached for her. He was devastated and humiliated by his own corrupt thoughts.

She pushed him away. “Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me and don’t look at me. I think I might hate you.” She sounded very silly and childish saying that but she meant it and now they got as far away from each other as a fourteen foot boat would allow; Hilola at the bow and Ramon astern. Allingham; Desperate Ride

“No, not that one, ass. I know what the moon is.”

James Sant They soon lay back on the sleeping bag and stared up at the stars. “That’s Polaris, the bright one. And can you see the stars that look like a cup, with a handle? That’s the saucepan.”

“What’s the other real bright one?”

“That’s the moon.”

“No, not that one, ass. I know what the moon is.” She laughed and liked it when Ramon teased her. She rested her head on his chest and he could smell her hair. She wasn’t trying anything with him now, and it felt good; felt good for the human contact without a lot of drama and performing and expectation. It was good to have Hilola so close and not doing anything but enjoying the night. She pointed again. “That one.”

“Oh, that’s Vega.”

“They’re beautiful, ain’t they, Ramon?” She pressed herself against him and held his hand. “I been on this earth for a long time, ain’t never noticed till now, how beautiful they are.” Allingham; Desperate Ride

“I am sorry.” She grinned and bit her lip. “You are just too beautiful not to touch.”

Kindred ~ Anthony Ackrill She took her to an empty room in the back. It contained a big bathtub. It had been prepared especially for Maria. She stripped down and they took her outfit and cleaned it. She relaxed in the hot water, smoked a cigar and drank some mescal. She’d rest for a while and decided that now would be a good time to interrogate her escort.

“Tell me. Were there two men here in the past day? They would be from the south, wearing black boots to the knee and striped trousers. One had long moustaches and the other no hair on his face at all.”

“Oh, yes. They were here. They had a lot of money. They had some things to sell from a church.”

“And where are they?”

The woman was washing Maria’s back and becoming too friendly. Maria gently pushed her away and the escort blushed.

“I am sorry.” She grinned and bit her lip. “You are just too beautiful not to touch.”

Maria rinsed off and got out of the tub. “Come now, darling. Pay attention.” She dressed quickly so as not to distract the young whore. “Where did the two men go?”

“Oh, the saloon across the way. They’ve been drinking in there for the past two days. They are trying to gamble but no one will give them a game.”

Maria was now dressed in her fresh clothes. She looked at a clock on the wall and then outside. It was nearly midnight. This would be as good a time as any.

She gave the woman some money and kissed her cheek. “You’ve been good to me. Thank you, darling.” Maria's Trail

Rosario made it back to their little camp, dropping fresh shells into her scattergun as she walked.

“Go to hell.” A shot flew past Hobbsie’s cheek and he ducked down. “Sons of bitches.”

He pointed his rifle and waited for a clear shot. Suddenly, two blasts of the ten gauge erupted. Two men cried out in pain as the buckshot found its mark. Pistol firing could be heard and he knew Rosario was using her six shooter, preferring it to reloading the shotgun. Bad men were popping up like dandelions in a field, and Hobbs and Old Pop took careful aim. In short order, four men lay dying or dead.

When no more bad men offered resistance, Rosario made it back to their little camp, dropping fresh shells into her scattergun as she walked. She looked Hobbs over carefully, then Old Pop, and finally Pierce, who’d stood frozen the entire time, unable to either run or fight. It was all over in less than a minute.

Hobbs kissed his wife on the forehead. “Thanks, darling.”

“Da nada.” Allingham; Desperate Ride

“I think you might be a witch.”

Alemany ~ Alex Amantes She caught him in a particularly pensive mood and kissed him out of his musings. “What’s got you thinking so hard, lover?”

“Oh.” He sat up and brushed the seat of his trousers clean. “Just wondering how the boys are getting on at home.” He looked up at the sky, as if to gauge the time of year and then turned his attention to Hilola. He kissed her again and smiled. “I think you might be a witch.”

She smiled. “How’s that?”

“Because you have cast a spell on me and I don’t want to do anything but be with you.”

She grinned and was happier than she’d been in her life. “I’m glad you said that.”

She fairly knocked him to the ground and kissed him. “So, do you think they’ll like me alright at the ranch?” He could see the fear in her eyes. She was still not convinced she’d be anything more than an embarrassment to him.

“Oh, trust me. These men are men—the best of men—and they love women. We treat our women well on the ranch. And you, my Hilola, are going to break their hearts.”

She was becoming distracted and whispered into his ear, “It’s not the men I worry about.”

“Oh, the women will like you just fine. They are pretty down there, and you will maybe give them a reason to spend some extra time in their beds satisfying their men, but other than that, you’ll be fine.”

“And the most important one of them, your mother?”

Ramon lied, “Oh, she’ll love you all right.” His mother would actually despise his woman. He shrugged, “And anyway, there is no man worth his salt who will let his mother influence him regarding which woman he takes for a wife.” Allingham; Desperate Ride

There was sex there; any good religion had sex. That was a given.

Faith ~ Anthony Ackrill He thought of Hilola, now napping in the sun on the cabin deck, legs splayed in a most unorthodox attitude. He shook his head and wondered at her upbringing. She was completely uncouth. And she had the audacity to call the Indians savage.

He suddenly worried about her. The Indians were not likely to have ever seen such a beauty: tall, fair, and bosomy, with the pretty golden hair. Would they abuse her? Probably not. They might want to buy her from Ramon and that would be awkward at the least. He didn’t want to kill Indians over the wild girl, but he knew he would. He was too much a knight to not, if things were to get out of hand.

But maybe they’d just admire and revere her. They might think her a goddess, or perhaps an embodiment of the Virgin. That would be ironic, Hilola mistaken for the Virgin Mary—or any kind of virgin, for that matter.

Certainly the Indians had been exposed to Christianity over the years. The Spanish priests had moved all over the land in search of souls to save; even more importantly, gold to mine. The priests would have, without a doubt, shown the Indians images of the Virgin.

Ramon laughed to himself at that thought. The Virgin was always depicted as fair, often with golden hair just like Hilola’s, and lily white skin. He knew from his study and reading of history and philosophy with the Jesuits, that the Virgin was likely as dark as his own Mexican people, since she was an Israelite Jew.

But the ones making the statues, and the ones making the rules, were the European whites, and they were obliged to make the images of God and Jesus and the Virgin, and all the saints, as white as they. It always tickled him to think of that.

He was suddenly relieved. This could likely work to his advantage, though the Indians held onto their own faith, despite the padres’ best efforts, they’d incorporated certain things that they liked, and the Virgin was always a little seductive. There was sex there; any good religion had sex. That was a given. Allingham; Desperate Ride

Well, if you’re not a whore, then I don’t know what one is.

Theodore Jacques Ralli ~ The Offering He did and revealed a compartment gleaming with many bars of gold, each easily weighing ten pounds. He whistled through his teeth.

“Where did you steal that?”

“Didn’t steal it.”

“Well, then your pimp sure did.”

She poked Ramon in the ribs with the gun. “Do not call me that!”

“What?”

“Whore. Not a whore.”

Ramon grinned. “Well, if you’re not a whore, then I don’t know what one is.” He extended his hand and she handed over the shotgun without an argument. It was preposterous to shoot the only person who could help her out of this wilderness. They both knew that.

Ramon went back to assessing the treasure. “This is from that robbery I read about, up in Utah. Mormon gold, isn’t it? You two aren’t smart enough to make that happen. What did you do, rob the robbers?”

She ignored him and sauntered back to the fire, flopping down and resting her head in her hands. She enjoyed watching Ramon. He was a beautiful man, better than any she’d seen in a long time. He had a nice voice with a pleasant accent and spoke well without swearing. He didn’t insult her the way the others had; he was a gentleman. She thought she could love Ramon. He was smart, a gentleman and a good lover. He was not weak like every other man she’d ever known.

“Not a whore and don’t say it again.” Allingham; Desperate Ride

A Jew and a Sikh, deputy US marshals...

Guru Nanak, The First Sikh Guru “A Jew and a Sikh, deputy US marshals, going to see the worst cutthroat and bigot in the Arizona territory.” Hobbs grinned uneasily at Mr. Singh. “Sometimes I think the captain is just plain cracked.”

Mr. Singh rode along and did not like it either. He was too far from Rebecca and did not like to be such with a murderer of redheaded women lurking right under their noses. It made him kick his mount’s sides and ride all the more quickly. He trusted Halsted, knew the man could do what he needed to protect their daughter, but it made him uneasy, nonetheless. He would not rest comfortably until he was back by her side.

“The sooner we get this over, the better for us all, Mr. Hobbs.”

They were an unlikely pair of enforcers and Hobbs looked down forlornly at his marshal badge stuck in the left lapel of his vest, just to the left of his fluttery heart. He looked over to Mr. Singh, who sported a copy on his suit coat.

He’d not worn a badge since the fateful day when the assassins tried their best to rub their little company out. The day he lost Francis and the day he’d help kill more men than he wanted to think about.

Hobbs half expected Singh to be wearing his badge on his turban, like he’d seen in the old photographs in Halsted’s collection of memorabilia from his time in India. The Sikhs wore insignia and badges and all sorts of strange things in and on their turbans, some even sporting daggers. Instead, Mr. Singh had an odd metal ring, resting like a great shiny collar, about halfway down the saffron head covering. He nodded at it and inquired.

“It is one of the ancient weapons of my people, Mr. Hobbs. It is called a chakkar. It is used to throw at the enemy.” Allingham; Desperate Ride

NOW AVAILABLE: Allingham; Desperate Ride

Man is the cruelest animal.
                                    ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

Allingham and his crew are back, forced to confront an evil unlike anything any of them have ever known or dreamt possible. Redheaded women are dying. Will Rebecca Allingham, nee Halsted, be next? The great sleuth-hound, Allingham, will have to summon all his skill and guts to overcome a horrific monster that has come to disrupt the peace and quiet of his retirement in a deadly game of cat and mouse.

There are challenges enough for all: Rosario and Hobbs, once again pressed into service as deputy US Marshals to track down a bloodthirsty revenge killer; Mr. Singh, bent on protecting the most precious thing on earth to him; and Rebecca Allingham, both huntress and hunted.

Ride with them on this desperate journey as new characters are introduced into the tumultuous world of the Allingham clan. Meet the Mexican lawyer turned hacendado, Ramon la Garza; Hilola, a woman as wild and unpredictable as the Colorado River on which she and the young mestizo, Ramon, must travel to get home back to old Mexico; tough as nails, Old Pop, and gentle Pierce Hall, the stalwart protectors and avengers, desperately working to purify and rectify a damaged family legacy.

Time is running out. The murderers are bearing down. Will Allingham pull it off and be able to find the monster in time? Will La Garza and his wild companion escape the clutches of the deadly bully and cutthroat, Thad Hall? CLICK TO BUY!