Blaze! Spanish Gold (Blaze! Western Series Book 18)

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Blaze! Spanish Gold (Blaze! Western Series Book 18) Page 4

by Ben Boulden


  Sully made a shallow salute and ducked out the door. “I’ll being seeing you, Sheriff.”

  J.D. said, “I don’t think he likes you, Gentry.”

  “Shut up, Blaze.” Gentry leaned his shotgun against the wall and stepped quickly to where Frank stood. He slapped the big man hard across the face, put a knee in his nuts.

  Frank dropped like a rag doll. He squirmed into the fetal position and gasped for breath.

  “You chicken shit asshole. I’m done with you. Get your fat ass off my floor and get out. You’re fired.”

  Frank, holding his testes, face a ripened tomato, opened his mouth to speak, but whimpered instead.

  Gentry turned away and retrieved the shotgun from the wall and marched back to his desk.

  The other lawman, Stammer, at the other desk, watched with keen interest. A shadowy smile on his face.

  “S-Sheriff?” Stammer said quietly.

  Gentry nearly shouted. “What is it, Harry?”

  “The cell’s still open.”

  “That’s so Frank can clean it out before he leaves.” He sat heavily in his chair. “You hear that, Frank? Before you leave, clean that goddamn cell up.”

  Frank grunted.

  “You may as well come out and have a seat, Blaze.”

  “You trust me?”

  “No, but I still have my two-shoot and I’m pretty good with it.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Kate still as a statue. Her hands steady in the air above her head. The hair on her neck and arms standing straight, cold fear icing her eyes. Emma’s pain filled cries burned Kate’s ears. She felt more than heard the shooter step away, imagined the crunch of gravel, a gun’s hammer locking back.

  “Mrs. Teller?”

  “Hush up, young lady. My Jonathon taught me to shoot and I have one more barrel.” Then to Emma, still squirming on the ground, her right knee pulled tight against her chest, “Are you hurt, dear?”

  Emma looked up at Mrs. Teller. “It’s my knee. It hurts bad.”

  “I told you not to go out that window.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Her voice heavy with tears and pain.

  “Can you stand?”

  Emma rolled onto her hands and knees. She gasped with pain when her right knee touched dirt.

  “I can help you, Em—”

  “You be still, now.” Mrs. Teller’s words harsh and angry. The shotgun steady against her shoulder. Its cold eyes never wavered from Kate’s center.

  “I’m not here to hurt either of you, Mrs. Teller.” Then Kate said to Emma, “The man in the alley. The one that stopped Deputy Haskins from raping you? His name’s J.D. and he’s my husband. The Sheriff arrested him for murdering the deputy and if you don’t tell them what happened they’ll hang him.”

  Emma groaned. She planted her right palm against the house for support.

  “I can’t have that, Emma. J.D.’s a good man. I need you to tell Sheriff Gentry what happened.”

  Emma sobbed with fear and turmoil. Her body shook.

  “Is this true, Emma?” Mrs. Teller’s voice stronger with each word. “Deputy Haskins— Did he…”

  “He—” Emma’s words broke into a guttural wail.

  Kate’s heart broke for Emma. The young woman on hands and knees. Her body racked with sobs.

  Kate turned to the landlady. “Let me help her into the house, Mrs. Teller.”

  The older woman sighed and lowered the scattergun. Her body sagged. “I nearly killed you.”

  Kate pushed herself up. “No one’s hurt past recovery. Not from anything.” The last words were spoken to Emma.

  Kate moved to where her Colt lay in the dirt. Its barrel glowed in the moonlight. When she bent down to retrieve it, Mrs. Teller tensed and raised the shotgun back to her shoulder and then lowered it.

  “I’m sorry.” Mrs. Teller stepped to the house and leaned the scattergun against the wall. She rubbed her palms across her dress.

  Kate retrieved the Colt. She studied it for a moment and when she was satisfied its barrel was free from obstructions she slid it into leather. She scanned the area for any observers, any threats. She saw only the night shrouded expanse of the home’s acreage and Joshua moving from one foot to the other at the property’s edge. She waved to the boy and called him over.

  “Who’s the boy?” Mrs. Teller said as Joshua scampered toward the house.

  He stopped ten feet from the group and looked inquiringly at Kate.

  “This is Joshua. He’s been very helpful to me tonight.”

  The boy studied his moccasins for a moment.

  Kate motioned to the two women. “Joshua, this is Mrs. Teller and Emma Wiley. Is Emma the woman you saw earlier tonight with Deputy Haskins?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Kate. That’s the woman I saw in the alley.”

  Kate turned to the fallen girl. “Emma?”

  Emma sat in the dirt with her back to the wall. She wiped her face with the long sleeve of her modest gingham dress. Kate kneeled next to Emma and wiped a tear from the girl’s cheek.

  “It’s okay. Everything’s fine. I promise.”

  Kate found a frilly white handkerchief in a shirt pocket. A gift from J.D. She studied it before handing it to Emma. The girl pushed it against her face to cover her eyes and mouth.

  “Did he hurt you?” Mrs. Teller’s voice only a few feet behind Kate, soft and kind.

  Emma nodded, but said, “No.”

  Mrs. Teller turned to Joshua. “Did that scoundrel Haskins hurt her?”

  The boy seemed to shrink into himself without moving at all.

  Kate, looking over her shoulder at Mrs. Teller, said, “We can talk inside. Help me get her in the house.” Then to Emma, “It will be more comfortable for all us.”

  A smile flittered across Emma’s lips.

  Kate stood and held her hand down to Emma. “Take my hand.”

  Mrs. Teller moved next to Emma and took the girl’s left elbow in her hands. “When Kate has you up, put your arm around my shoulder and we’ll walk into the house together.”

  The girl nodded. Her face silver in the moonlight.

  CHAPTER 10

  The Sheriff’s Office sat on Main Street. A squat brick building deeper than it was wide. A diner on one side, an assay office on the other. Its windows glowed bright with lamplight on the otherwise dark street. Kate, buried in shadow, studied the office from across the way. A rangy man stepped from its door. He looked up and down the street before he casually leaned against a post at the boardwalk’s edge. He pulled a small tin box from his shirt pocket and built a smoke. He lit it and tossed the spent lucifer to the street.

  After a few pulls he pushed his hat back on his head and began pacing; five steps down, five steps back. He did this over and over. The homemade never leaving his lips, smoke trailing away in widening blue curls. His eyes steady on the boardwalk, his bootheels echoed a rhythmic beat.

  A man Kate recognized as Sheriff Gentry opened the office door and stuck his head out. “Goddamnit, Harry! Your pacing is driving me batty!”

  Harry stopped. He looked up with a mild frown on his face. “S-sorry, Sheriff. I s-sometimes forget mys-self.”

  “Something going on at home you want to talk about?” Gentry said, still standing in the office’s doorway. “Or is something else bothering you?”

  A sheepish grin found Harry’s lips. “Nothing really. Jus-st my us-sual nerve is-s all.”

  Kate moved from the shadows and stepped into the street towards the two men. Her right hand casually close to the Colt on her belt.

  “Sheriff Gentry?”

  The Sheriff looked up with surprise in his eyes. He reached for the knife fastened to his leg.

  Kate said, “I’m here with a peace offering.”

  Harry stepped from the boardwalk onto the dusty street. He separated himself from Gentry to make it harder for a lone gunman to shoot both men.

  The move surprised Kate. It was expert and precise, something she wouldn’t expect from a lawman in a rathole lik
e Unity. In response, she held her hands up, palms out. “I’m not here for a fight. I’m Kate Blaze and you have my husband wrongly locked up for rightly killing a rapist.”

  Harry held his ground. He looked back at Gentry. His hand on the big revolver strapped to his belt.

  The Sheriff shook his head. “Hold off, Harry.” Then to Kate, “You saying your husband didn’t kill Deputy Haskins?”

  Kate continued walking. “I’m saying he rightly killed that raping bastard and we—you and me, Sheriff—are going to talk about it.”

  Sheriff Gentry chuckled. A smile grooved his night darkened face.

  Kate stopped short of the boardwalk. “What’s so amusing, Sheriff?”

  The lawman pulled himself together and stepped across the threshold between office and boardwalk. He pulled the door open wide. “My apologies, Kate Blaze, but your reputation proceeds you. I thought what they said about you was surely exaggeration, but I was wrong.”

  Kate tilted her head deciding how to take the lawman’s explanation.

  “You may have time to laugh and whittle away the hours, Mr. Gentry, while you wait for a writ to hang my husband with the full blessing and infallibility of the law, but while you’ve been waiting around doing nothing, I’ve done your job.”

  “That explains it, then.”

  “Explains what?”

  “I expected you here much earlier, after seeing you in that alley when I took J.D. into custody.”

  “I see you and my husband are on a first name basis?” Kate stepped from the street to the boardwalk.

  “Not exactly, ma’am. What’s this about you doing my job?”

  Kate gave a tight smile. A smile J.D. called her stubbornness mouth twitch. “I found the girl your deputy was attempting to rape in that alley.”

  “Oh? Where is she?” The Sheriff held the door wide as Kate approached.

  Kate stopped short, placed her hand on the Colt. “Safe.”

  “Careful, are you?”

  “I’ve heard a few things about this town and I don’t know your part yet, Sheriff.”

  Gentry scowled. His eyes narrowed. He looked from Kate to Harry and back. “I’m an officer of the law, Mrs. Blaze. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  Kate nodded. “In that case, the girl J.D. saved in the alley? She’s prepared to testify that J.D.’s actions were self-defense.”

  Sheriff Gentry rubbed his forehead with the palm of his big right hand. “You want to come in and we can talk about it?”

  Kate stepped into the office. Its interior brightly illuminated with several wall mounted oil lamps. Kate’s eyes watered at the smell; sweat, puke and shit mixed together in a noxious cocktail. Before she could complain, she saw a disheveled and beat-up J.D. sitting awkwardly on a broken down wooden chair. His hands manacled behind his back.

  Kate said, “Jehoram Delphonso!”

  Only one person in the world could call J.D. by his given name and still be standing when that last “o” left their mouth. And Kate only used it when J.D. was in big trouble.

  “How could you get yourself in trouble on our wedding anniversary!”

  “I’m sorry, Kate.” J.D.’s blue eyes sparkled. A winsome smile crossed his cracked lips.

  Heat rushed into Kate’s cheeks. She moved across the narrow office and grasped J.D.’s hair in her right hand. She pulled his face up and kissed him. Then, feeling her passion rise, she released him and moved around the chair to straddle his leg. She found his lips again and drank deeply.

  Sheriff Gentry, still standing near the door, said, “You two about finished?”

  Kate straightened. Her legs still intermingled with J.D.’s.

  J.D. laughed. “Damn, Kate. I’m glad to see you, too, but it’s only been a few hours since we parted company.”

  Kate glared at J.D. “You should be careful, Mr. Blaze. There are other fish in the sea. I’ve had an offer this very night from an alabaster skinned man who has more than a passing fancy for me.”

  “Alabaster?”

  “I’d s-stay clear of him, ma’am,” Harry said as he stepped through the door. “He is-s trouble.”

  CHAPTER 11

  The sitting room of Mrs. Teller’s Victorian glowed warmly. Its carpet faded from a once vibrant purple to a now mottled brown. A handsome seascape, a Chinese junk on a golden sea occupied one wall. The portrait of a balding, chinless man looking stern hung on another.

  A young woman lying full-length across the sofa’s cushions looked up as first Kate and then J.D. entered the small room.

  “Emma?” Kate motioned to J.D. “This is my husband.”

  J.D. nodded. “Ma’am.”

  Emma moved as if to rise from the sofa, but the elderly landlady rushed across the room and planted her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “You stay right there.”

  Emma smiled wanly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Mrs. Teller.”

  The old woman patted the girl’s shoulder. She looked up at the chinless gentleman’s portrait. “It’s nice having someone to care for again and you’ve been through so much with the passing of your father.”

  Emma wiped a tear from her eye.

  J.D. was struck by Emma’s quiet beauty. Her blonde hair so pale it was nearly white and her blue eyes startling.

  “Ah-hmm.” Sheriff Gentry stood at the room’s entrance, his hat in hand. When he had everyone’s attention he said, “Miss?”

  “Missus,” Mrs. Teller said. “Mrs. Stephen Wiley.”

  Gentry nodded to the landlady. He looked at Emma. “My name’s Ira Gentry, and I’m the sheriff here in Unity.” He looked around the room. His eyes stopped on a delicate flower-patterned chair in the corner. A stack of yellowing newspapers on its cushion.

  Mrs. Teller blushed. She hurried over and cleared the papers from the chair. When she was done, she looked back at Gentry. “Please sit, Sheriff. I’m sorry about the mess, but we so seldom have company anymore.”

  The lawman sat. He looked from Kate to J.D. to Emma. “There’s a few things we need to clear up.”

  The girl studied her dress with interest.

  Kate said, “Emma, you need to tell the Sheriff what happened in the alley.”

  The girl nodded. “I understand.”

  The Sheriff leaned forward. “Well?”

  “That man, the deputy. He’d been following me”—her eyes never moved from the front her dress—“for days. He never spoke to me, but he was always there somewhere.”

  Kate sat down on the floor cross-legged and took Emma’s hand.

  Emma looked up. She gave a tentative smile and continued. “I was so scared.” She stopped, tear stained eyes flashed at J.D. “Then tonight. You saved me, Mr. Blaze.”

  J.D. felt self-conscious as the room’s other three occupants looked at him.

  He cleared his throat.

  A smile on Kate’s lips. “Modesty doesn’t suit you, J.D.”

  “You’re not off Saturday’s hanging schedule yet,” Sheriff Gentry said.

  Emma gasped, brought her tiny hand to her mouth. “J.D.?”

  The Sheriff shook his head. “Not likely, but I need you to tell me what happened or I may go with my gut and hang him anyway.”

  Kate laughed, deep and genuine.

  J.D. felt desire rise and he must have leered because Kate said, “Watch it, mister.”

  He held his hands wide with his best, I didn’t do anything, expression. All the time thinking about the private celebration he and Kate, and Kate’s well-worn Kama Sutra, would have as soon as they could ditch the law and find their way back to the hotel. Kate, J.D. always thought, had a supernatural ability to read his mind, and at that moment he was certain when she smiled coyly, winked and, ever so subtly and more erotic than anything J.D. had ever seen, ran her tongue across her bottom lip in an inviting manner.

  J.D. forced himself to ignore his wife and pay attention to the room’s proceedings since his neck length depended on the tale Mrs. Wiley told Gentry. He shifted back to the girl as sh
e recited his favorite part, the moment he saved Emma from the brutish—a word Kate would love, and a word he needed to drop into a future conversation to impress her with—deputy sheriff.

  When Emma finished her story, Sheriff Gentry grunted. He looked at J.D. with something close to disappointment in his eyes. “I guess you’re off the hook for killing Billy Haskins.”

  J.D. said, “Don’t sound so excited about it, Sheriff.”

  Gentry glared at him. “I’m not happy about it since Haskins was my deputy and I’ll have to explain why I released his killer without charges.”

  Kate said, “It would be best if you kept J.D.’s release to yourself until we leave town tomorrow. If you can.”

  The Sheriff stood and nodded to Kate. “I’ll keep it quiet for now, but I’d recommend you leave before someone decides I’m wrong about J.D. and takes matters into their own hands.”

  Kate, still sitting on the floor, said to Emma, “Are you going to be all right?”

  The girl nodded, but remained silent.

  “I’ll take good care of her,” Mrs. Teller said.

  “I bet you will, Mrs. Teller.” Kate patted the girl’s head gently. She turned and winked at J.D. “We need to get back to our anniversary celebration, Mr. Blaze.”

  J.D. held his hand to Kate and helped her off the floor with a strong hand. As he turned to leave a curious thought stopped him. “Emma?”

  The girl’s face pale, her hands trembling made J.D. feel miserable for leaving her and Mrs. Teller alone in the old house.

  “Yes?”

  “In the alley, you said something I didn’t understand. Something about ‘killing him’?”

  Emma’s face went a shade beyond pale. Her eyes blinked so rapidly J.D. could almost hear a shutter banging closed.

  Kate leaned down and pulled the girl’s hands into her own. “What is it, Emma? What’s wrong?”

  “I—” Her voice cracked. Tears burst from her eyes.

  J.D. gave her a hanky from his trouser pocket. The girl took it quickly. She covered her eyes and nose with it.

  Kate questioned J.D. with narrowed eyes.

  “It’s clean!”

  Kate shook her head at J.D. and then kneeled next to the girl. She caressed Emma’s cheek with the back of her hand. “It’s okay, Emma. You’re safe here.”

 

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