Blaze! Western Series: Six Adult Western Novels

by Stephen Mertz

  Kate's right hand swung down and then up again in a blur of speed and when it was extended at arm's length out in front of her, it was fisting a gleaming .44-40 Colt. Without hesitation and with accuracy born from hours of tireless practice, she took snap aim and fired. The shot cleanly blew the hat off the head of the would-be pistoleer and an instant later a second round passed so close to the tip of his nose that the heat from the sizzling slug singed the hair in his nostrils.

  The warning shots were enough to convince the rider. He tried clumsily, frantically to re-holster his gun and lost it altogether, leaving it to clatter away on the rocks. He paid no further attention, concentrating instead on just facing forward. Seizing his reins in both hands, he then jerked his horse off-trail, abandoning the chase and fleeing off down through the rock-studded pines and underbrush of the south slope.

  The gun hand of the remaining horseman froze with the pistol it had been reaching for only half-cleared of its holster. Suddenly finding himself on the wrong end of two-to-one odds, the man lost all will to continue putting up a running fight. Before any more shots could be fired, he shoved the pistol deep back into leather and sharp-reined his own horse off the opposite side of the hogback's crest, also abandoning the chase.

  A short distance beyond where the two men had peeled off, Kate and J.D. slowed their horses briefly.

  J.D. was grinning. "Hell, that was easy."

  "Maybe too easy," Kate countered, not smiling. "I'd better hang back for a little while, like we figured—to make sure they don't re-discover their courage and show up for another try. You go ahead after that buggy. I'll be along in a short."

  "Okay. But watch that pretty little ass of yours," J.D. said.

  Now Kate grinned. "That's your job."

  "Fair enough. You keep it in one piece, I'll gladly do my part."

  They exchanged a quick kiss and then J.D. was off, pushing his horse hard once again in order to catch up with the fleeing buggy and try to bring their rescue attempt to a satisfactory conclusion.

  * * *

  It worked in J.D.'s favor that the increasingly rugged terrain and the growing weariness of the pulling team had combined to slow the runaway considerably by the time he reached it.

  What was working in nobody's favor, however, was the way the once broad, grassy, smoothly rounded hogback had become little more than a bare, rocky spine extending out over the gentler slopes and lush meadows of the valley below. To either side of the crest were now sheer, ragged drop-offs that meant almost certain death to any living thing unlucky enough to go over them.

  J.D.'s horse sense told him there was the very real possibility that the wild-eyed, panicked team, instead of continuing on recklessly or slowing to a more controlled stop, might instead balk suddenly at these threatening surroundings and attempt a more abrupt halt. Such a move would surely flip or pitch the buggy wildly, sending it, its passengers—and most likely drag the horse team along, too—over the precarious drop-off.

  J.D. figured he had only a matter of seconds to prevent such a catastrophe. As he closed on the buggy, he barely had room to fit alongside it without risking a misstep by his horse that would take both of them over the brink first. But he had complete faith in his mount, the big stallion having pulled him through scrapes as bad or worse than this in the past.

  Drawing even with the fleeing team, J.D. saw the shortened lengths of what had once been reins flapping uselessly in the wind. As he'd guessed, they had been cut. That left only one way for him to play it.

  Bracing himself, getting set, he leaned out from his saddle and then kicked free of the stirrups and launched himself onto the back of the nearest puller. He settled in place, strong thighs locking him there as his left fist immediately grabbed the bridle of the horse he was now astride and began drawing back. At the same time, he reached over with his right hand and did the same with the other half of the team.

  "Whoa! Hold up now! Whoa there!"

  Tired, scared, confused, the horses seemed almost to welcome the assured grip and voice of J.D. They slowed somewhat jerkily, but not too fast, and then came to a halt, blowing hard, shoulders muscles fluttering under foamy, sweat-drenched hides.

  J.D. twisted around on his boldly attained perch and looked back at the buggy's two disheveled passengers, still braced rigidly against the crash they'd thought was inevitable.

  Flashing an easy, reassuring grin, he said, "Everything okay back there, folks?"

  Chapter 3

  Assisting the buggy passengers down onto terra firma provided J.D. the chance to make a quick but thorough up-close appraisal of the pair.

  The man looked to be in his middle to late fifties. Just under six feet in height, sturdy build, ruddy complexion, ruggedly handsome face framed by bristly sideburns that were pale yellow in color, made even paler by being shot through with flecks of gray. The matching jacket and trousers he wore fit too well to be anything but tailored and his shirt was of the finest material. He definitely appeared to be someone of wealth yet, at the same, the way he carried himself and the thick-fingered paw he thrust out to shake J.D.'s hand gave the impression of a man who'd also done a good deal of hard physical work in his time.

  "You don't know how much I hate admitting I lost control of my own damn team," the man said as he pumped J.D.'s arm. "But thank Christ you came along when you did, young fella!"

  "Just the luck of the draw that I happened to be in the neighborhood," J.D. replied.

  Even as he was exchanging words with the man, J.D. couldn't keep his gaze from sliding over and drinking in a good, long look at his female companion. She was the kind of woman most men would have a hard time keeping their eyes off of. Twenty or so years younger than the man, with a finely chiseled face, sparkling green eyes, and a pile of lustrous auburn hair that had once been neatly piled atop her head but now was a bit wind-blown, she cut a fine figure of a woman by any standard.

  J.D. really didn't have to study her at any great length to confirm all of this. As a matter of fact, he was already intimately familiar with her "fine figure" and all the rest. The only question was, since they were pretty far afield from where he'd known her in the past and she was now in the company of another man, he didn't know whether or not she would wish to acknowledge their prior acquaintance.

  The question was quickly answered when those green eyes took on an extra twinkle and her generous mouth spread in a wide smile as she exclaimed, "J.D. Blaze, what an amazing and wonderful surprise to see you again!"

  The woman spread her arms for a hug, but J.D. balked. "Jeez, Belle, I'm all sweaty and dusty here," he protested. "I wouldn't want to soil that fancy dress you got on."

  "Like I haven't seen you sweaty plenty of times before. And as far as this dress, it would have gotten damaged far worse if those frenzied horses had taken us over a cliff the way it looked certain they were going to. Now step over here and give me a hug, damn it!"

  Having the man standing right there—inasmuch as J.D. hadn't yet figured out exactly what the relationship between the two was—made the moment a little awkward. But, other than that, a command to embrace the red-haired beauty J.D. formerly knew as Belle Fenton could hardly be considered hardship duty. So J.D. stepped into it and gave her a good squeezing. The scent of what he remembered as being her favorite perfume filled his nostrils. And the contours of her, especially the warm pressure of breasts that had lost none of their firm fullness, were also well remembered. Disconcertingly so, in fact, being as he was now a married man.

  When they stepped apart, Belle turned to the man in the tailored suit and said, smiling, "Darling, let me introduce you to J.D. Blaze, an old and dear friend of mine...And, J.D., please meet my husband, Oliver Braedon."

  Once again the two men shook hands.

  This time Braedon's grip was even firmer that before. He was smiling, too, as he said, "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Blaze. Very pleased, considering how you just saved our lives."

  "Well, I don't know about that," J.D. said. "Those
horses had a pretty good head of steam going, it's true, but there was still a chance they might have come to their senses and stopped before—"

  "No offense, son," Braedon interrupted, "but that's bullcrap and you know it. Those panicked poor fools were hell bent on taking us to our doom and only your intervention prevented it. I'm grateful beyond words. If there's ever anything at any time I can do to repay you, all you have to do is name it."

  "And those aren't just idle words," Belle was quick to add, a ring of both earnestness and pride in her voice. "My husband stands behind what he says. The name Braedon means a great deal around these parts, in case you didn't know, and Oliver's convictions and the courage and strength to back them up are big parts of the reason why."

  "Okay. I'll be sure to keep that in mind," J.D. allowed.

  Belle smiled again, this time with an impish twist. "Now that we've got that straight...Tell me, what are you doing galloping around in these mountains apart from riding to the rescue of those in need?"

  "Really, Belle," her husband scolded. "Don't you think it's rather blunt and impertinent to grill the young man like—"

  "Relax, Oliver," she cut him off. "I told you, J.D. and I are old friends. He wouldn't know what to think if I was anything less than blunt and impertinent. And, just to make things clear for you, J.D., Oliver knows all about my, shall we say, 'checkered past'. In fact, like you, he shared a slice of it with me. That's how we met. But none of that matters any longer. It's all behind us. Which gives you leave to speak freely and remove the strained expression from your face that makes you look like you swallowed a bug."

  Although someone who was seldom caught at a loss for words, that's exactly how J.D. found himself when Belle finished saying her piece. He almost would have welcomed a bug to swallow, he told himself, as a distraction from just standing there groping for a response.

  Luckily, a far better and truly welcome distraction showed up instead.

  At the sound of approaching hoof beats, J.D. and the Braedons turned their heads to watch Kate riding at a gallop to join them. Her hat was pushed back off her head, though still retained by its neck string so that it bounced lightly between her shoulders and left her thick blonde hair streaming out full and rich behind her. And although she was an expert, graceful rider, moving as if she were an extension of the horse itself, there was still enough bounce to the gallop to cause her generous breasts to sway and jiggle enticingly.

  A warm feeling swelled inside J.D., the way it always did, at the mere sight of her. Only this time, given his keen awareness of Kate's jealous nature and the fact that a former lover of his, in the curvaceous form of Belle Braedon, was standing right beside him...well, the warm feeling was accompanied by a queasy knot of anxiety low in his gut.

  "Well, I'm glad to see you made it in time," Kate announced as she reined up in a swirl of dust.

  "How did you make out?" J.D. said in return. "Any more trouble from those three hombres?"

  Kate shook her head. "Not a peep. Way I figure it, they're still hightailing it into the tall and uncut."

  "So you're also responsible for chasing that pack of howling coyotes off our tail?" Braedon said, apparently realizing for the first time that his former pursuers were no longer part of the picture.

  "They were sorta in our way when we took out to try and catch up with your runaway team," J.D. explained. "We had to, er, bump 'em out of the way."

  "Good for you! I hope you bumped the dirty bastards clean off the mountain!"

  "Language, Oliver," Belle cautioned him. "There are ladies present...well, one anyway." She cut her gaze over to J.D. "Speaking of which, are you going to introduce us to your lovely accomplice, J.D.?"

  "By all means," J.D. replied, trying to gauge the undercurrent running between Kate and Belle as they coolly made eye contact. With a bit of a flourish, he gestured to Kate and said, "This hard-riding, gun-toting beauty is Kate, my wife...Kate, darling, this is Belle and Oliver Braedon."

  "Wait a minute!" Braedon said abruptly, excitedly. "Kate and J.D. Blaze—I recognize your names now. Of course! You're the married team of gunfighters who've been gaining such a reputation over the past couple of years. How could I not have seen it immediately?"

  "Gunfighters?" Belle echoed, looking somewhat puzzled.

  "That's right. Gunfighters! Two of the best in the West," her husband confirmed, excitement still ringing in his voice.

  "Be that as it may," J.D. said, "right at the moment we're letting our gun barrels cool off a mite while we enjoy a few days' vacation here in Estes Valley."

  "At least that was the general idea," Kate added. "We're staying at the Big Thompson Lodge in Elk City, you see, and rode out late this morning for a picnic. We had our spread laid out a ways back, a nice private spot on a slope overlooking a little waterfall. It was from there that we saw you, up on the crest, with your out of control team and those rowdies chasing you."

  "We can thank our lucky stars," said Braedon, "that you were in a position where you were able—and willing—to intervene."

  "Who were those three hellraisers, anyway? The men hoorahing you?" J.D. asked.

  "Hold on a minute," said Belle, raising a hand. "The answer to that—and anything else you wish to know, since you've certainly earned the right—can be had. But surely we can find a more suitable time and place to continue with this, can we not?

  "Since we clearly interrupted your picnic lunch, how about this: Oliver's ranch is only a few miles up the valley from your lodge. Let us send a driver and carriage for you this evening and you will be our guests for dinner. Please. No, I insist. Then we can cover everything left to discuss in a far more comfortable setting. What say you?"

  J.D. and Kate exchanged glances. He couldn't be certain what all was running through that pretty little head of hers, but in her eyes he was pretty sure he saw a hint of being intrigued by the invitation.

  "Very well," he said. "But on one condition, if I may."

  "Of course," replied Braedon. "What is it?"

  "The carriage you send to pick us up?" J.D. tipped his head to indicate the still-blowing team that stood in front of the buggy. "Give these nags a rest, and send some different, less high strung ones, okay?"

  Chapter 4

  "I have absolutely no trouble believing that red-haired floozy used to be a prostitute," Kate was saying. "What flabbergasts me is that there was ever a point where you felt you had to pay for sex and, when you did, a cheap tumble with the likes of her was what you put your money on."

  J.D knew he had to be mighty careful how he replied. Since Kate already had her claws out, it wouldn't be acceptable to just say nothing. She'd keep digging until she got a response. But if he said the wrong thing, those claws might go straight for the jugular.

  Taking a deep breath, gritting his teeth, J.D. said, "It was hardly a cheap tumble. Belle was working at one of the most exclusive brothels in San Francisco and was their most requested gal."

  Instead of the claws, he got the fire shooting out of Kate's eyes. "Is that supposed to make me feel better, you horny jackass?"

  J.D. held up his hands, palms out, as if to ward off the heat being aimed his way. Moments like these, he told himself (and not for the first time), the name Blaze certainly suited the love of his life. He wondered if her temper had been any cooler under her maiden name of Aragon.

  This exchange between them was taking place in their suite at the Big Thompson Lodge. Outside, the long shadows of late afternoon had deepened into evening and now the soft golden glow of ornate lamps filled their quarters, somehow making the well appointed furnishings look all the finer.

  The soft lighting somehow made Kate look finer, too, especially in the stylish, off-the-shoulder gown she had spent the afternoon selecting from the lodge's women's wear shop. This was quite a trick from J.D.'s perspective, considering how she always looked exquisite in his eyes. Under the circumstances, though, he dared not compliment her. He knew that any attempt at flattery, no matter how sincere,
would only be viewed by her as a lame attempt to get back in better graces.

  "The point I was trying to make," J.D. said in response to the horny jackass accusation, "is that I didn't find Belle in some back alley crib and I wasn't so lowdown that's where I went prowling to take care of my horniness."

  "It all falls under the same heading, pal." In sharp contrast to the fire in her eyes, Kate's tone was like ice.

  J.D. let his arms drop. "Fine. If that's gonna be your attitude, we'll forget the whole dinner thing. When the carriage arrives to pick us up, I'll make some kind of excuse and send it back empty."

  "And let that redheaded rip think she intimidates me? No way." Kate set her jaw defiantly. "We're going to that dinner, I'm wearing this fancy damn dress that's practically cutting me in two, and I'm going to charm the ass off of everybody there—especially that delusional old fool who was addled enough to fall under the spell of Miss 'Most Requested Gal' and end up marrying her."

  "Aw, come on. I liked Braedon. He impressed me as a tough, stubborn cattleman who worked hard to grow one of the largest spreads in the valley, yet hasn't let his nose get turned up by success and wealth."

  "Yeah, he's a hard worker alright. I've seen the type. The kind of hard worker who likely had his wife working right at his side—on top of bearing and raising those four kids he told us about—getting turned into an old woman before her time then planted early. And now he's gone and married a new one, half his age, who'll reap the benefits."

  J.D. scowled. "That's unfair, Kate. You have no way of knowing—"

  His words were interrupted by a loud, insistent knock on the door.

  Both J.D. and Kate glanced at the clock on the mantle. It was too early for the Braedon carriage to be arriving, and they weren't expecting any other callers.

  The demeanor and body language of each of them changed instantly. No matter the differences they'd been airing before, now the overriding instincts of caution and preparedness took over and kicked everything else aside. In their line of work, it was the only way to survive.