Blaze! Western Series: Six Adult Western Novels Page 13

  J.D. and Kate fired three times each and Lachman’s three men were on the floor. Kate had to turn quickly and hold her hand out to her husband so he wouldn’t shoot anyone else. But J.D. had correctly sized-up the situation, and knew they were done.

  “Everybody stay calm!” Sheriff Allen yelled.

  “We’re calm, Sheriff,” J.D. said. “Everythin’ is under control.”

  “Runkle,” Allen said, pointing, “and you, and you, grab some others and carry those men out of here.”

  “Where to?” Runkle asked.

  “The undertaker,” Allen said. “Mr. Evans, are these your men?”

  “They were,” Evans said. “Not anymore.”

  J.D. walked over to Kate, and the two of them ejected their spent shells and reloaded, just in case.

  “Want a beer?” she asked.

  “Sure.”

  She turned and said to the bartender, “Two.”

  “Comin’ up, ma’am.”

  “So what happened, dear?” he asked when they both had a beer. “Aren’t you the one who told me not to get into trouble? Don’t shoot anybody?”

  “It wasn’t my fault. I just came in for a beer.”

  “You were supposed to be visiting dress shops.”

  “I was at the one across the street when I had enough,” she said. “I thought I’d come in here, have a beer and just—you know—listen.”

  “And?”

  “One of them poured beer over my head.”

  He touched the brim of her hat and said, “I was wondering what that was.”

  “Look over there,” she said, “the man talking to the sheriff. That’s Evans. He’s somebody around here.”

  “Somebody? Like who?”

  “He’s one of the biggest ranchers in these parts,” the bartender said.

  “Is that a fact?” J.D. asked. “Is he a member of that Cattleman’s Club?”

  “He’s one of the founding members,” the bartender said. “And if you don’t mind me sayin’ so, he’s gonna be needin’ some new guns.”

  J.D. and Kate looked at each other.

  * * *

  “What’s goin’ on, Mr. Evans?”

  “That is J.D. Blaze, isn’t it?” Evans asked the sheriff. “And his wife?”

  “That’s who it is, yes, sir.”

  “What are they doin’ in town?”

  “Just passin’ through, he says.”

  “They just gunned four of my best boys.”

  “I see that,” Allen said. “Do you want me to arrest them? I’ll have to get the whole story, talk to witnesses—”

  “Hell, no, don’t arrest them,” Evans said. “It was a fair fight—well, it was once he walked in the door to back her up. Weren’t they magnificent?”

  “I guess so.”

  “Why don’t you see to those dead boys,” Evans suggested, “while I talk to the Blazes.”

  “About what?”

  “I think,” Evans said, “we may have found somebody who can help us with our problem.”

  “The rustling?”

  “Do we have another problem in this town, Sheriff?”

  The sheriff thought that was a matter of how you were looking at things, but he kept the comment to himself.

  “Nossir,” he said.

  “Good,” Evans said. “Then get lost, Sheriff. I’ve got an offer to make.”

  Chapter 11

  “Mr. Blaze? Uh, Mrs. Blaze?”

  They both turned to face a small, ratty looking man who also seemed nervous.

  “Yes?” J.D. asked.

  “Mr. Evans would like to see you. Uh, both of you.”

  “Is that right?” Kate asked. “What’s on his mind?”

  “Uh, I don't know,” the little man said. “He just tol’ me to come and get ya.”

  “He wants us to come to his table?” Kate asked, looking around.

  “No,” the man said, “he wants ya to come across the street.”

  “Across the street?” J.D. asked.

  “The Cattleman’s Club.”

  “He’s inviting us to his club?” Kate asked.

  “That’s right.”

  “Well,” she said, putting her beer down, “lead the way, then.”

  The man looked at J.D..

  “You heard her,” he said. “Lead on.”

  * * *

  They followed the man across the street and up the stairs to the front doors of the Cattleman’s Club. A large man blocked their way.

  “The boss is waitin’ for these two.”

  “That so, Henry?”

  “Yeah, Lester,” Henry said, “let us in. He don’t like ta be kept waitin’.”

  Lester stared at Henry, then stepped aside and opened the doors. As Henry started through Lester put a big paw on his shoulder and pulled him back.

  “The lady first.”

  “Oh, sorry,” Henry said.

  “Thank you,” Kate said to Lester, who actually smiled. She had that effect.

  “Okay, Henry,” J.D. said, “Go.”

  Henry entered and J.D. followed. In an entry foyer Henry once again took the lead. They walked past a large room filled with cattlemen sitting in armchairs, smoking cigars and drinking whatever rich cattlemen drank.

  They went down a hallway to another, smaller room and Henry stepped aside.

  “Mr. Evans is inside.”

  “Thanks, Henry,” J.D. said.

  They entered what looked like a game room, complete with a green felt poker table in the center. The rancher, Evans, was seated at the table.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Blaze,” the man said. “Thank you for coming. My name is Harold Evans.”

  “I think we’ve met,” Kate said.

  “Yes,” Evans said, “that was unfortunate. Illuminatin’, but unfortunate.”

  Kate was surprised by the use of the word “illuminating” from the rancher. He was more educated them his slightly southern accent made him sound.

  “And you are J.D. Blaze?” Evans asked.

  “I am.”

  “Have a seat, please,” the man said, as another man in a black suit entered. “Tell Roscoe what you want to drink.”

  J.D. and Kate sat and J.D. said to Roscoe, “Bourbon, please.”

  “Yes, sir. Ma’am?”

  “Beer,” Kate said.

  “Wouldn’t you like some wine, Kate?” Evans asked. “We have some wonderful—“

  “I’ll settle for a beer,” Kate said.

  “Beer it is, then,” Evans responded. ”Roscoe?”

  “Yes, sir. Right away.”

  As Roscoe left J.D. raised his hands and asked, “So, is this your place?”

  “I am one of the founders,” Evans said.

  “And what about the Colorado Cattleman’s Association?” J.D. asked. “Are they involved with this?”

  “The two are actually different entities,” Evans said, “but I am involved with both.”

  “And what are we doing here?” Kate asked.

  “Well,” Evans said, “you killed my best guns.”

  “You sent them up against me,” Kate said.

  “Well,” Evans said. “I felt you could handle Lachman. I didn’t know he’d loose the others on you.”

  “Loose?” J.D. asked.

  “Unleash,” Evans said. “Whatever.”

  Roscoe entered, dropped off their drinks and withdrew from the room.

  “But it turned out all right,” Evans went on. “J.D. came to your rescue.”

  “My wife rarely needs rescuing, Mr. Evans,” J.D. said. “She can take care of herself.”

  “I can see that,” Evans said, “but I have a job for the both of you. If you’ll listen to my offer.”

  “Well,” J.D. said, “we’re here, and we have drinks. So talk.”

  Chapter 12

  “We’ve been having some trouble with rustlers in these parts for quite some time,” Evans said.

  “We’ve heard that,” J.D. said. “We also heard that your Association was hi
ring detectives to take care of the problem.”

  “Detectives,” Evans said, shaking his head. “That’s not what we need.”

  “Is that right?” J.D. said. “I thought Pinkertons and stock detectives were pretty good at their jobs.”

  “Well, apparently, the Cattleman’s Association thinks the same thing.”

  “And you don’t,” Kate said.

  “No, I don’t.,” Evans said. “What we need are guns. So I hired some, and you two killed ’em.”

  “And we’re back to that,” J.D. said.

  “So you owe me.”

  “We do?” Kate asked.

  “But I’m willin’ to pay you,” Evans said. “Good money. All you have to do is track them down and kill ’em.”

  “That’s all?” J.D. asked.

  “Isn’t that what you do?”

  “Yup,” he said, “that’s what we do.”

  “How much?” Kate asked.

  “Well,” Evans said, “we can get another drink and discuss that.”

  * * *

  By the time they left the club it was dark. They started toward their hotel.

  “What do you think Weatherby will think of this?” Kate asked.

  “Why does he have to know?” J.D. asked. “We do the job, we get paid by both of them, they both get what they want.”

  “Well, that sounds good, except for one thing,” she said.

  “And what’s that, love?”

  “We still don’t know where to look.”

  “I thought of that.”

  “And what brilliant conclusion did you come to?”

  “According to Weatherby and Evans, the rustlers haven’t hit in a while. They’re due.”

  “That’s your idea?” she asked. “Sit back and wait for them to hit?”

  “Do you have a better one?”

  “And what are we supposed to do in the meantime?”

  As they approached their hotel he said. “I have some ideas about that, too.”

  * * *

  They didn’t even wait until they were in their room.

  By the time they got to the second floor hall they were locked in a hot kiss, and when they reached the door their shirts were open and half off.

  “Unlock the door,” she said into his mouth, “before somebody catches us out here.”

  He pulled the key from his pocket, unlocked the door and pushed her inside. Slamming the door behind him he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed.

  “J.D.!” she cried out laughing. “At least let me take off my gun.”

  “I’ll do it.” He unbuckled her gunbelt, hung it from the bedpost, then did the same with his own. That done he pulled off both their boots, and then they both started shucking clothes.

  Every time he saw his beautiful wife naked it was like the first time. His heart beat faster, he caught his breath. Her skin was smooth and hot and the smell of her filled his nostrils, made him dizzy.

  He laid down next to her, took her in his arms and kissed her. The kiss went on for a long time, during which she entwined her legs with his, slid her hands in between them so she could stroke his hard penis.

  He stroked her shoulders, her back, felt her shiver as his hands reached the smooth globes of her ass. The problem with J.D. was that he desired his wife so much that even though he wanted to make love to her slowly, she just enflamed him too much.

  He pushed her down onto her back, kissed her neck, her shoulders, spent time on her fabulous breasts—licking and sucking her nipples, nipping at the soft, tender skin until she squeaked and slapped him away. He kissed her belly, played with the belly button, then moved lower.

  “Mmm, J.D.,” she said, as he nestled his face into her wispy pubic hair, “you do come up with a good idea every once in a while.”

  He licked her, a long, loving lick that made her legs jerk uncontrollably. Then he settled in, began to work on her with his tongue and his lips. She grew so wet his face grew shiny with it. He breathed her in and couldn’t get enough of her, slid his hands beneath her ass to cup her buttocks and lift her to his mouth. He kept at her until ripples of pleasure shot through her belly, making her tremble and soak his face even more...

  Chapter 13

  In the morning J.D. woke in his favorite way, with Kate down between his legs. And she enjoyed waking him up this way. She ran her tongue lovingly up and down his shaft, wetting it thoroughly, and then took it fully into her mouth. He spread his arms and stared at the ceiling, closed his eyes and gave himself up to the sensations of his wife’s tongue and lips on his cock...

  * * *

  They had breakfast the next morning in the hotel dining room. Halfway through the meal the waiter came to the table and dropped a note on it.

  “Who’s this from?” J.D. asked.

  “Who is what from, sir?” the bald, middle-aged waiter asked.

  “This note.”

  “What note?” The waiter turned and walked away before J.D. could ask another question.

  J.D. went to pick it up and Kate said, “Maybe you shouldn’t be so obvious about reading that.”

  “Good idea.”

  He used his napkins to hide the fact that he was reading.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “It’s a note from Weatherby,” J.D. said. “He wants to see us.”

  “When? Where?”

  “Today,”he said. “Outside of town. He gave us directions.”

  “What do you suppose he wants?”

  “Maybe he heard about us talking with Evans,” he said.

  “Maybe he’s going to fire us.”

  “We’d still have one employer.”

  “Two are better than one,” she said.

  “Well then,” he said, “we better finish up here, saddle up and ride out to meet the man.”

  “Now?”

  “If we’re getting fired we might as well get it over with,” he said, “but I don’t think that’s it.”

  “Oh no? What, then?”

  “Maybe he’s got some information for us,” he said.

  “Not likely,” she said. “We’ve only been here one day. It’s going to take longer than that.”

  “Then let’s go find out just how much longer,” he suggested. “We’re not going to find out anything sitting here.”

  “Agreed, heart of my heart.”

  * * *

  They followed the directions on the note, rode about five miles outside of town to a clearing near a running creek. Waiting for them there was Weatherby, in a buggy.

  “A buggy?” she said. “I thought he didn’t want anybody to know we were meeting?”

  “Be nice,” he said.

  “It’s usually me telling you that.”

  They rode up to the buggy, and Weatherby stepped down. He was wearing a three piece suit, with a gold watch chain hanging from the vest pocket.

  “Mr. Weatherby,” J.D. said.

  “What the hell are you two doing?” he demanded.

  “What are you doing,” Kate asked, “driving out to meet us in that? You couldn’t just ride out?”

  He looked at her. “I, uh, don’t ride very well. But that’s neither here nor there. You were seen going into the Cattleman’s Club. After you killed four of Hal Evans’ men in the Ace High. What the hell are you thinking?’

  “Wasn’t our fault,” J.D. said. “We just went in there for a drink.”

  “You’re not supposed to be seen in town.”

  “What’s the difference, if nobody knows why we’re here?” J.D. asked. “Being in town is the fastest way to hear something about the rustlers.”

  “Can’t you just...track them?”

  “From where? The last place they stole cattle from has long since been trampled. It would be impossible to pick up tracks,” J.D. explained. “However, a map of all the spreads they’ve hit would help. Might show us a pattern.”

  “I’ll have one delivered to your hotel. Now, what were you doing in the Cattleman’s Club?”
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  “Having a drink with Evans.”

  “What in the world for?”

  “Well, since we killed his men he wants to hire us.”

  “To do what?”

  “What else? Find the rustlers, and kill them.”

  “What? The Association wants to hire you?”

  “Not the Association,” Kate said. “Evans himself.”

  “Wait,” Weatherby said, looking confused. “Evans is operating outside the Association?”

  “Apparently,” J.D. said. “Maybe you two should be working together.”

  “No,” Weatherby said, “that can’t happen.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because Hal Evans and I want nothing more than to kill each other.”

  “Is that why he has hired guns working for him?” Kate asked.

  “No,” Weatherby said. “He wants to kill me with his bare hands, which is what I want to do with him. No, he hires guns to do his other dirty work.”

  “Like catching rustlers?”

  “Well, I didn’t think so,” Weatherby said. “I thought he was using them to force people to sell him their land.”

  “Well, that’s nothing new,” J.D. said. “You rich ranchers are always trying to buy out your neighbors, one way or another.”

  “Not me,” Weatherby said. “I want nothing more than to live in peace with my neighbors.”

  “That makes you unusual, then,” Kate said.

  “Thank you,” Weatherby said, thinking she was giving him a compliment.

  “Look,” J.D. said, “Evans made us an offer and we told him we’d think about it.” He considered this a little white lie. “Meanwhile, we’re keeping our eyes and ears open. You get that map to us as soon as you can.”

  “Mr. Blaze,” Weatherby said, “I need to know that the two of you can’t be bought off by Evans.”

  “We can’t,” Kate said. “We don’t like rich ranchers, as a rule, Mr. Weatherby.”

  “I see.”

  She decided to toss him a bone.

  “Present company excepted, of course.”

  Chapter 14

  They left Weatherby at the creek and rode back to town. They told him to give them about half an hour and then go back to his ranch.

  “Wait,” he’d said. “Don’t you want to know where my ranch is?”

  “Is yours one of the spreads that was hit?” J.D. asked.