"Why you holding that there gun on him, Ben? He ain't going nowhere till I shoes his horse, the one he's ridin'. Should have all four done," he said t... me."Fine," I said. "How much?" He with us?" the smithy asked Captain Frederick."Maybe," said the big man with a trace of a smile."Shit on maybe, mister," the smith said, suddenly angry and showing me the size of his fist. It was about as big as a dray horse's hoof and looked nearly as hard."I'm a Continental," I said, "Maryland Line." All right. I certainly hadn't been hit this hard in my boob since seventh grade when, during a softball game, the ball had taken an unexpected bounce and had slammed into one of my still developing boobs. I know the softball had caused more pain than this but John's next words chilled me to the bone. Threatening to hit my boob again if I didn't remove my dress, but this time with a fist. Wearing heels I knew I had no chance of reaching the door. I removed my dress. I'd look for a better chance. John next. More

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