Babyface Jerome- the story

It was a hot wind from the mountains and desert which blew Babyface Jerome into
Junction City. He rode high on his horse his high hat pulled down to shield his face.
He wore a fashionable coat with tails and something almost unknown in Junction, a
shirt with a long collar and tie. He looked a dandy but folks who knew him knew
better than to voice their opinion. Babyface Jerome was without a doubt the fastest
gun in the West, and one of the hardest fighters. One blow from Babyface was enough
to fell most men.
He got his name from his face. He looked like a Botticelli cherub. Blonde curly hair,
clear pale skin and pure blue eyes, the colour of a fresh mountain lake. He was tall and
straight but his face belied his true nature.
Babyface Jerome was a US Marshal. A legend in his own time.

Junction City was typical of a frontier town. One long main street with wooden
buildings running along each side. These were the tradesmen and saloons,
intersperced with the occassional boarding house.
Apart from the residents of the businesses, few people actually lived in the town, but
had homesteads on the fringe and further out.
One thing Junction City did have was its fair share of bad men. Outlaws made a bee
line for the town which was in easy reach of the Mexican border for a quick getaway
should things get too hot to handle. This was the reason for the visit from Babyface

Babyface had been tracking the Robert’s gang for several months, each time missing
them by no more than a few hours and finding only the mayhem they had left. Now,
he felt, he was right behind them and because he hadn’t slept for two nights and stayed in the saddle, only stopping to water and feed his horse and himself, he knew they
were close.
Babyface checked into the white picket fenced boarding house of Miss Jennie
Winsome. Thinking, quite rightly that if the Robert’s gang were in town they would be
in the Hotel. Where the saloon bar and the girls would be too much of a temptation for
them to miss. They had shot up every saloon between Tucson and here, so he thought
his assumption would be pretty accurate. He requested food and a bath and Miss
Jennie set the wheels in motion to provide both of these requirements. His room was
comfortable and looked onto the bottom of the street with the sheriff’s office across
the road from it. The Hotel was at the other end. There were of course, other saloon
bars in between but none which had boarding rooms.

Babyface stacked his belongings, saddle, saddlebags, rifle and blanket into a corner.
He had already deposited his horse with the boy at the stable around the back of the
boarding house. He removed his gun from his holster and lay on the bed, but kept his
gun in his hand. Almost instantly he drifted into sleep, the deep dreamless sleep of the
exhausted, and when Miss Jennie knocked quietly on his door to inform him his bath
was ready, he was awake instantly, gun cocked and ready.
The bath room was in the adjacent room and he sank gratefully into the soapy water of
the bath. It wasn’t quite big enough, but with his legs bent at the knee and right under
his chin he managed to wash all the exposed places, including his golden curly hair,
and the rest were covered with water and took care of themselves. He spent time
languishing in his bath and only got out when the water grew too cold for comfort. He
dressed and went down to the diningroom to eat. His clothes he had brushed and his
holster was once again under his coat.
He got quite a few admiring glances from the ladies who were having a meal there
with husbands or friends. The menfolk were more cautious, Babyface’s reputation
rode ahead of him wherever he went. Not that he had ever killed anyone who hadn’t tried to kill him first, and rarely someone who wasn’t an outlaw. He had on occasions
been faced with someone wanting to have his reputation and become themselves the
fastest draw in the West. These he had merely winged and put out of commission for a
while until their blood cooled.
After his meal he walked up the main street toward the Hotel. ‘Might as well see if
they are in town’, he thought. It didn’t take him long to recognize their horses tied up
outside the town’s livery stable. They were still in town. His journey would end here,
in Junction City.

Babyface Jerome- the story


Co Durham, United Kingdom

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