There ain’t much in the way of opportunity for a girl of mixed blood and little money at home. There weren’t no good family wanted me for a daughter-in-law, and Mr. Shipley, who ran the general store, thought I’d have my hand in the till. Well. I ain’t of a disposition what would make a good farmer’s wife, and ain’t nobody like to be looked down on.
Out here, it don’t matter none who my mama was. The frontier’s a mean madam, and there’s few enough of us that survive her. Naw. Out here what matters is a cool head, a keen eye, and a quick hand on the trigger.
I got all three.