John C. Horst's Blog, page 24

She was blossoming into a fine young lady and she turned heads and hearts constantly, wherever she went.

Bill Joseph Markowski She’d taken to keeping many animals and had a knack for it. The old man even arranged for her to have a horse, something Maria had dreamed of possessing ever since she could remember. He’d let her go off into the desert alone and she’d ride and ride. Sometimes she’d ride for so long that it was well after dark before she returned home, much to the consternation of the old woman.
Maria loved her horse as much as she loved the people of the church. The old man said that when animals loved a person it was a sign that the person had a pure heart and it seemed that all animals loved her.
She learned many things from the priest including how to read and write in both Spanish and English. She wasn’t the best student but now she could easily get by in el Norte. She let the priest baptize her and she took her first communion. She learned about confession, and told the priest most of her sins. Not all, as she had difficulty really believing most anything she’d ever done much of a sin.
She even made peace with Paulo, the man she had clobbered with the candleholder. He was gruff and grumpy but she won his heart. It was the way of it with Maria; she had found her voice, lost her timidity. She was blossoming into a fine young lady and she turned heads and hearts constantly, wherever she went. Maria's Trail

She got up and opened a window and looked at the moon over the Gulf of California.

Bill Joseph Markowski Thinking about the old man got her out of her mood and she was no longer lonely. She was tired now but wanted to be cozy under the warm covers. She got up and opened a window and looked at the moon over the Gulf of California. It turned everything silver and the wind off the gulf blew in over her, through her, and she felt a great chill. She hopped back into bed and scooted under the lovely sheets and the heavy covers and fell into a deep sleep. Maria's Trail

“Not so hard.”

Bill Joseph Markowski “Not so hard.”
She pushed him away from her breasts and lay back in the hot sun. She loved him. But sometimes he was just too rough. She was secretly delighted that she could arouse him to the point that he forgot himself and acted so aggressively. He’d learn soon enough what made her happy and what was going too far. They were both learning about lovemaking and what it meant to pleasure each other.
“Sorry Mags.” He grinned and lay back in the cool water washing over them. He smiled at his little beauty and kissed her again. He loved her more than he thought he’d ever love another person in the world. Now and again he’d just look at her and have difficulty believing that she was all his; his woman, soon to be his wife.
“I’m going to have a baby.”
His heart raced. “Really, Mags? Really?” He was pleased. He wanted a baby, thought a baby would seal the deal, make her his for the rest of their days.
“No, not really, not yet. But if we keep carrying on this way, we’re sure to have a baby.” She pulled him onto her and for the third time that day, they again made love. Allingham

“Oh, by the way, gringo, I am no’ a squaw, I am Mexicana. You might wanna change your sign,”

Jesus Helguera “How much is all of that, gringo?”
“Don’t, don’t worry ‘bout it. Take ‘em… as a gift.”
“No, gringo, we are not robbing you, just making a good trade, we will pay for the bullets.” She peeled off a few bills and put the rest in her pocket.
She sent the Indians on their way and stepped away from the dealer, who got up slowly and sat back down at the card table. Chica looked at them and smiled. “Oh, by the way, gringo, I am no’ a squaw, I am Mexicana. You might wanna change your sign,” she pulled the handwritten placard from the doorway, and threw it at the bar. It read, “No Indians allowed.” The Mule Tamer

The Guru said, You are my beloved princesses, my daughters, and you must be respected.

Sohni Dreaming about Her Lover Mahiwal They were always attentive and many took an extra interest in Mr. Singh who treated them with more respect than most of them had ever known from any man in their sad and miserable lives. He was also handsome and exotic and the women were intrigued when they learned of his long flowing black hair done up in his turban. He was a fine looking man.
He would call them Kaur and they liked it, but did not know the meaning until sometime later when a couple of them finally felt bold enough to ask the kindly Indian. “Ah, it means princess, and has been the way we address all women, since more than four hundred years. The Guru said, ‘You are my beloved princesses, my daughters, and you must be respected. How can this world be without you? Without women this world cannot be. Women are humans and all humans deserve equal rights. You are an individual, you are a princess, and you can keep Kaur as your last name.’” Allingham

“Do you think there’s ghosts?”

Javier Arizabalo “Do you think there’s ghosts?” He didn’t look at her but rather peered down the street, watching, waiting, hoping for someone to kill.
“I don’t know, Francis, perhaps.” She thought about it and decided to talk a little, hoping it might calm him down. “You know, in our country, we are Catholic. But there is the pagan celebration, el Día de los Muertos, the day of the dead.”
Francis grinned. He always liked to hear about things of which he knew nothing. She continued. “Many people believe that the dead are among us all the time, and many even set a table for them, just as if they were alive.”
“And you, do you do this, Mamacita?”
“No, Francis. I would have to have a table that was as long as the barracks to accommodate so many of my dead.” She smiled and crossed herself. Allingham

Early Praise for Allingham

There will be a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning.
                                 ~ Louis L'Amour
In the fast-paced Allingham, author John Horst combines a passion for the history of the West with his crusading spirit by wrenching the ugly, thick-lipped, bulbous-nosed Sergeant Allingham of the New York City Police away from his home turf – Hell’s Kitchen, 1882 – and setting him down in the “cesspool” of Canyon Diablo, Arizona, a corrupt town overflowing with prostitutes, drunks, gunslingers, and gamblers.  Sergeant Allingham quickly becomes Marshal Allingham, using his common-sense New York City police tactics to clean up the town.  
Horst develops an array of original characters, from the crew that Allingham enlists to serve him to the prostitutes he wants to reform, from the crooks and murderers he is fighting to the exotic Sikh warrior and his mysterious charge, the beautiful and wealthy Rebecca Halsted. 
Using talents in deductive reasoning honed to a Sherlock Holmes acuity during his years as a New York cop, Marshal Allingham solves crimes, cleans up the town, and prevails throughout many life-threatening situations. 
Marshal Allingham gradually emerges as an intriguing three-dimensional character, a do-gooder, no-nonsense reformer, and a man who although at the age of retirement, changes, develops, and finds a new and rewarding purpose to his life.  
Allingham is for anyone who likes the suspense and action of a western, who enjoys the intrigue and mind games of a detective story, and who is interested in psychological drama – seeing how a man, forced to step up to the existential plate, can change the direction of his life.  Available at Amazon

Patrick Smithwick, author of Flying Change, A Year of Racing and Family and Steeplechasing www.flyingchangememoir.com

That man could cut all our throats faster than you could pull your six shooter.

Courtesy Vikrum Singh Baraich “And that fellow with the turban, the Arab, he’s a nice sort.”
“Not an Arab, a Sikh.” Allingham spoke into his plate and wondered what effect the meal would have on Hobbs. He was grateful to have his own room.
“Same difference, all wear them turbans.” Francis pushed his plate away. He poured beer for himself and the Irishmen who were just getting ready for their night on patrol.
“No, it’s not.” Allingham looked on at the young lad. Sometimes he wondered at the ignorance of his young deputy. He felt talkative this night. “Could not be any more different.”
“Really? How so, Captain?” Francis did not like to be ignorant or considered a fool. He wanted to learn some things from the captain, from all of them, as they all seemed to know so much more than he. Francis, by his own admission, was a complete bumpkin.
“Sikhs are from India. Arabs are from Arabia. They both wear turbans but that’s where it ends. Sikhs live by the code of the saint-soldier. Always controlling internal vices and constantly immersed in virtues. They are the best of human kind.”
“Well, I’ll be go to hell.” Francis stroked his chin and looked at the Irishmen. Saint-soldiers?”
Allingham looked on as he ate. “That man could cut all our throats faster than you could pull your six shooter.” He stood up and brushed the crumbs from his lap. “So you’d better show the lady all respect.” Allingham

Allingham is OUT!

There will be a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning. ~ Louis L'Amour

The place was a giant cesspool turned whirlpool that pulled all the badness of the land into it, until the vortex contained the giant soup of decadence and evil, contained the worst of human kind.

But Hell Street has a new enforcer, a lawman who has honed his skill in Hell’s Kitchen, the meanest of the Five Points district of Manhattan. Will it be enough?
Allingham is the story of one man’s struggle to face down his demons along with the meanest and most degenerate of human kind in the worst town in the last frontier of the West, Canyon Diablo, Arizona Territory. Available at Amazon.com

Coming Soon ~ Allingham

There will be a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning. ~ Louis L'Amour

The place was a giant cesspool turned whirlpool that pulled all the badness of the land into it, until the vortex contained the giant soup of decadence and evil, contained the worst of human kind.

But Hell Street has a new enforcer, a lawman who has honed his skill in Hell’s Kitchen, the meanest of the Five Points district of Manhattan. Will it be enough?
Allingham is the story of one man’s struggle to face down his demons along with the meanest and most degenerate of human kind in the worst town in the last frontier of the West, Canyon Diablo, Arizona Territory.