The lone church that served the twin communities stood in Nolan’s Creek. A tent building that for an hour each Sunday packed in the sinners from bot... camps. Harlot, miner, saloon owners, and respectable business owners stood and sat shoulder to shoulder. Listening as the preacher rained down fire and brimstone with a zeal that John the Baptist would have been proud to deliver. The congregation of misbegotten prayed, sang praises to the lord, and swore to be better people. Repentance was rare. I'm really proud if I see that looking at me has made thelittle lump grow!I would have expected wearing skirts to be hard to get used to but I just don'tnotice at all. That's partly because we're not allowed anything else here. Theawful knee-length plain grey things we have to wear all the time are far fromflattering, but I'm afraid my huge bum (well, it seems huge to me) would beshown up awfully in jeans. I went shopping in the local town yesterday and sawmany women in trousers, but I think. More

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