- Joined
- Aug 21, 2011
Jonathon rose early that morning as he usually did. It was an old habit born of 20 years servoce in the cavalry at Fort Clinton. Recently retired, the Captain as his friends still called him hadn't lost either his military discipline, or the rugged self confidence that came from command in the desert southwest. Neither though had he forgotten his days at West Point, or the gentle and sometimes artificially demure southern belles of Virginia with their sugary smiles and lilting smiles that could melt a man's heart. Since being in California though, they were a lost and distant memory of things gone by. Women here were tough and often raunchy, something he tired quickly of. It was precisely this reason that he had remained unattached. Till that morning, nothing female struck his fancy.
After doing the chores, he hitched up the buck board and headed for town to get supplies. As he pulled up to Nates General Store, what he saw made his blood boil. A young oriental woman was running from a drunk. He was dirty and rough, and obscene. Her grabbed at her and tore her clothes, pulling her into the dusty street. No one seemed to care or notice as the woman ( though almost a girl) screamed.
Jonaton jumped from the buckboard and grabbing the man by his shirt in an iron grip held him up with one arm and tossed him into the horse trough, then turning went to the aid of the girl and kneeling beside her cradled her head in the crook of his muscular arm. "Are you alright? maam?" he asked as he smoothed her hair out of her now dusty face.
After doing the chores, he hitched up the buck board and headed for town to get supplies. As he pulled up to Nates General Store, what he saw made his blood boil. A young oriental woman was running from a drunk. He was dirty and rough, and obscene. Her grabbed at her and tore her clothes, pulling her into the dusty street. No one seemed to care or notice as the woman ( though almost a girl) screamed.
Jonaton jumped from the buckboard and grabbing the man by his shirt in an iron grip held him up with one arm and tossed him into the horse trough, then turning went to the aid of the girl and kneeling beside her cradled her head in the crook of his muscular arm. "Are you alright? maam?" he asked as he smoothed her hair out of her now dusty face.