“My pa said your daddy’s firing were down to consumption.”
“That’s a damn lie, Zeb Potter.” Lily-belle stomped her sooty foot upon the slats.
“Children, that’s enough,” said Miss Henshaw, flashing perfect pearl teeth. The youngsters sat, enraptured by their new school teacher. The whole mining-camp was.
Miss Henshaw felt the envelope amongst the folds of her petticoat, nestled next to the derringer. Inside, a map told of a cave. Mr Ben had shown her where; right before she killed him. After all, a woman had to make her own way in the world.
The Tiny Library 