Blaze! Hell's Half Acre

by Jackson Lowry

  BLAZE!

  HELL'S HALF ACRE

  Jackson Lowry

  Blaze! Hell's Half Acre by Jackson Lowry

  Text Copyright 2016 by Robert E. Vardeman

  Series Concept and Characters Copyright 2015 by Stephen Mertz

  Cover Design by Livia Reasoner

  A Rough Edges Press Book

  www.roughedgespress.com

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Chapter One

  "Something's moving." J.D. Blaze rolled over, letting the blanket slip off his muscular body. He had been asleep a few seconds earlier. Now he came completely awake at the threat out in the darkness.

  "Well, it's about time. It's been almost two days since anything stirred." Kate Blaze turned and threw her arm over his chest. Then her hand began working lower toward what she expected to be a growing bulge. "What? Nothing?"

  "Quiet." J.D. sat up, dislodging his wife. She grumbled, then sat up, her hand going for her own Colt. "You hear it, too?"

  She nodded. Her eyes glowed like a feral animal in the fitful light cast by the crackling embers of their campfire. Kate tossed her head, got hair from her eyes and paid no attention to how the blanket had fallen down to her waist, leaving her firm breasts partially exposed through her open-necked longjohns. They had been on the trail for close to a week and both needed a bath—and more. J.D. was aware of his lack of performance in husbandly duties during that time. Long days in the saddle wore him out for longer nights with Kate. Once her fires were lit, she lived up to their last name.

  He took a deep whiff of the cold autumn Texas air. Nothing. He spun about to hands and knees and then came to his feet in a lithe move, facing the Big Dipper spiraling around its handle in the north sky. For a moment he thought he had only dreamed the noise in the thicket. Then it sounded again, soft, slow, as if someone—or something—crept up on them.

  J.D. pointed to his left. Kate grumbled something about getting her boots on, then obeyed, padding off barefooted to set up a decent crossfire, should it be necessary. Their predator would quickly turn into their prey if they spotted him. When she got a few yards away from camp and the possibility of silhouetting herself against the dull orange glow from the fire, J.D. went straight for the bushes. From a twig snapping and a limb brushing a moving body, he knew where their stalker had to be.

  He paused at the edge of the thicket, turned slightly, then cocked his Colt.

  "Better show yourself or you'll be in a world of hurt." He ducked and moved to his right when he saw a shadow moving ahead. A man-sized shadow. His senses had not betrayed him into thinking a wolf had crept up on them. This was a drygulcher intent on killing them in their sleep. Otherwise, why sneak up like this in the middle of the night?

  "You J.D. Blaze?" The voice came from the spot where the shadow shifted about nervously.

  "You're a dead man 'less you show yourself right now."

  "You ain't got a good shot, and you know it."

  "I don't need one. My partner's got you dead in her sights."

  "He's not blowing smoke, mister. I'm behind you."

  J.D. couldn't see his wife, but from the sound of her voice, she had circled to a point where a shot or two would drive their stalker from hiding and directly into J.D.'s line of fire. They worked together well.

  "If you're J.D. Blaze and that's your wife, Kate, then I got me the right folks. Don't shoot. I'm showin' myself. Hands up in the air and gun in my holster."

  J.D. kept his sights on the dark shadow as it slid from behind the trunk of a live oak tree and stepped forward. The best he could tell, the man wasn't trying anything tricky and moved the way he claimed. Still, J.D. almost called out to Kate to watch for others. This might be part of an elaborate trap with this galoot providing bait—and diversion.

  "See? I'm not joshin'. I'm doin' what I said."

  J.D. backed up and took shelter behind a cedar elm tree to afford defense against any sudden turn on the man's part. This let Kate come in closer, too. If necessary his fire could cover her retreat. He tracked the man with his six-shooter as he stepped out of the thicket.

  "Whoa!" The man bent to reach down. J.D.'s reaction caused him to stiffen again, hands held above his head with elbows locked stiffly. "Didn't mean nothin'. Got some burrs in my hide. Didn't think. Just acted. Sorry to spook you like that."

  "Go on over to the fire and set yourself down." J.D. inclined his head in the proper direction, never taking his sights off the man. From the faint yellowish flashes as the man passed by him, he did have cockleburs stuck in his jeans from crawling around in the dark.

  He also saw something else gleam bright and silver in the guttering campfire light.

  "You a lawman?"

  "You caught sight of my star? Good. That'll help explain a passel of what I have to say. You mind if I lower my hands? They gettin' a mite tingly from lack of circulation."

  J.D. circled to the far side of the fire, then indicated the man should sit. This kept Kate behind him. He saw her slip from the copse, walking gingerly. She might have picked up a burr or two in her bare feet, but if she had, it didn't impair her attention. He watched her for a moment. She shook her head, letting him know their visitor was all by his lonesome.

  "Pull up a log and warm your hands."

  "Ain't my hands that need warmin'. It's my leg. I got it all shot up." The lawman shoved out his left leg. He rubbed it, then wiped dried blood off his hands. The entire pant leg was caked in blood. "Don't hurt as much as it did, but I'm still not up to ridin' and shootin' the way I was 'fore..." His voice trailed off.

  Kate came up behind. The man glanced over his shoulder and smiled.

  "It's true what they saw about you, ma'am. You're about the purtiest filly I ever did see."

  J.D. brought his attention back around by letting his hammer fall with a metallic click.

  "Why are you creeping around in the dark like that, if you're a marshal?" J.D. scooted over and let Kate settle in beside him. He had put his six-shooter away, but she kept hers close at hand, lying in her lap where it could be whipped into action in a fraction of a second.

  "I suppose I ought to start at the beginning. I'm Deputy Marshal Henry Davis from over Wichita Falls way. We had a big bank robbery a few days back."

  "Big?" Kate leaned forward. "What do you call big?"

  "Well, Miz Blaze, this is cattle country. Most ranchers have already got their herds to market and are rollin' in the money. This was a durn good year for cattle growin'. Ain't a sure thing but the bank president claims more 'n ten thousand dollars was took. In gold. Them varmints left the paper money. Oh, they mighta stuffed a few handfuls into their pockets on the way out but mostly they took gold coins."

  "That's a heavy load." J.D. joined his wife in leaning forward. The story was getting interesting if a reward was being offered. For such a huge amount, a thousand or more would be on the table.

  "They was smart. Had a trio of spare horses with 'em."

  "Three men?"

  "Yup, three owlhoots. They divvied up the gold as they loaded it on the spare horses."

  J.D. and Kate exchanged a look. It sounded as if the outlaws intended riding in different directions, each taking his share with him. This divided pursuit and each man got his share without claiming he was being cheated. More than that, it kept two men from ganging up on the third to steal his share later. This told them that the three robber
s likely didn't know one another, or if they did, they weren't on good terms and mistrusted the others.

  "What happened?"

  "Well, it's like this. The marshal and another deputy lit out after the man they think was the leader. A nasty piece of work named Three-fingers Frank Bell. You might guess what his most prominent feature is."

  "Someone blew off his trigger finger," Kate said.

  The deputy looked hard at her, then smiled slowly. "I reckon what they say about you's true. You're not only the purtiest filly this side of the Red River but also the smartest. That's what he got shot off a year or two back. Too bad he didn't get a bullet through the heart then, too. Would have made life easier for the likes of me and the marshal."

  "Go on with your story. Who're the others?"

  "That's not for sure. The third is a youngster called Zeke Morrisey. He was seen gettin' drunk 'fore the robbery and boastin' how he was soon to come into a load of gold. The other one's an older gent but nobody knows his name."

  J.D. held his tongue. He saw the deputy wanted to build the tale he told, and rushing him would only cause him to miss important details. The lure of a reward for not only returning the stolen gold but bringing in a couple of desperados would go a long way toward renewing his and Kate's sorry finances.

  "Don't matter 'cuz me and him, we shot it out. That's how I got my leg all turned to horsemeat, but I put him down."

  "So you recovered a third of the gold?"

  The deputy shook his head sadly, made a show of moving his gimpy leg into a more comfortable position and then pursed his lips as he thought on it.

  "His pack horse was missing. I ain't got an answer for where it went. All I know's he is dead and two of them are still on the loose."

  "With all the gold." J.D. perked up. Catching the two remaining outlaws would be easier than flying after a trio headed in different directions.

  "Must be that way. I came across a family headin' into Wichita Falls on the road late yesterday. They said you two helped them fix up a broke wheel and got them on their way. The description they gave told me it had to be the famous bounty hunters, J.D. and Kate Blaze."

  "We did help out a family with four small children," Kate said.

  "Four? I only seen three, but at that young age, one might have been in the wagon takin' a nap."

  Kate reached over and squeezed her husband's hand. She had tested the deputy's veracity, and he had passed the test. Guessing they might have helped a family was a stretch but knowing details of the family made certain he had spoken with them.

  "You want us to ride along with you?" J.D. didn't cotton much to that. He and Kate worked better on their own, and questions about who got the bounty wouldn't be muddled.

  "No, sir, I don't. As much as I wish it could be, I heard of you and realized you're about the only chance I got of seein' those varmints brought to justice. You see, I got to get my leg tended. Don't think I'll lose it, but I get woozy if I'm in the saddle too long. Lost a barrel of blood in the shootout."

  "We'll need descriptions of the men."

  "Got a wanted poster on Three-fingers Frank. The other fellow, well, can't say more than he's a redhead, skinny as a rail, looks more like a boy than a man and has freckles all over his face like the pox." Deputy Davis fumbled in his pocket and drew out a tattered wanted poster. He handed it to Kate.

  "There's only one likeness here." She handed it to J.D., who studied it more carefully.

  He had heard of Three-fingers Frank Bell and knew he deserved the five hundred dollar reward on his head. The man was a cold-blooded killer. The reward in addition to that for recovering the bank loot would go a long ways toward making things right. The past few months had been slim pickings, and he wanted to treat Kate to a nice hotel with room service.

  And a decent bed. Especially a decent bed.

  "Like I said, the third robber was still wet behind the ears. From what folks in the bank said, he wanted to be somewhere else and not robbing the place. That didn't slow him down none in loadin' up his share of the gold."

  "Did they shoot anyone in the bank?" J.D. expected a positive answer and wasn't surprised when the deputy said two tellers had been gunned down. If it hadn't been for a customer who realized his number had come up unless he did something and had gone for his own six-shooter, the rest of the customers and bank president would have been worm food, too.

  "They waited until they had the gold before shooting," mused Kate. "They didn't intend to leave witnesses."

  "That's the way the marshal sees it. I can't find fault with his thinkin' on the subject." The deputy moaned and wobbled about some, grabbing for his left leg. "Sorry. Findin' it hard to concentrate."

  "Let me look at it." Kate stood.

  "No, don't bother yourself none. I'll be all right. Be righter 'n rain if you run down those two, Bell and Morrisey."

  "Where were you hunting them?" Kate hesitated, then sat back down. She eyed the deputy closely to be sure he didn't pass out on them.

  "About five miles back the way I came, just off the road's where me and the second owlhoot shot it out. Don't know if that's a good place to start, but it's the only trail I had."

  "Be sunup in a half hour." J.D. rummaged in their meager supplies and found a can of coffee. "Might as well chow down now, then head out when it's light."

  "I wish I could ride with you, but then there's no call for me to enlist your aid if I was all in one piece. If folks are right, you're 'bout the best trackers in the whole damned state of Texas, Rangers included. That's the kind of talent I want out there bringin' them varmints to justice since I can't."

  "We ought to see you back to Wichita Falls and a doctor." Kate started to help the deputy again. Again he waved her off.

  "A cup of coffee will keep me goin' 'til I find the Larson spread. It's not a mile from here. Two at the most. They're good people and will see I get back to town. You shouldn't waste a minute bringin' those two in. The sooner you find 'em, the quicker you get the reward. And me? I want to watch them both drop through the gallows floor, a noose around their necks."

  "That's understandable. Now, can you make a map for us?" Kate spread the wanted poster out face down and found a stub of a pencil.

  As J.D. fixed breakfast, he watched his wife get more information from the injured deputy marshal. He knew the right thing to do was see the lawman to this Larson ranch, but the need to get on the trail before it went cold nudged him away from doing that. The robbers already had a healthy head start on any pursuers. He and Kate stood to make more bringing the two bank robbers to justice than they'd made the prior six months.

  Facing down Three-fingers Frank Bell—again—was icing on the cake.

  Chapter Two

  "We should have made sure that Deputy Davis got to the ranch house on his own. Did you see the blood on his jeans?" Kate rode with her eyes straight ahead, watching either side of the road for trouble.

  "Damned near got his leg shot off, from the look of it, but he didn't want us to help him," J.D. said. "He found us after leaving those sodbusters. It's good we can go after the outlaws since he's going to be laid up for quite a spell."

  "He must have ridden like the wind," she said. "We helped that family out early yesterday morning. Where along the road to Wichita Falls did he cross their path?"

  "There's no telling how he zigzagged around hunting for the robbers. Are we about where he got into the shootout?" J.D. felt anxious and couldn't put his finger on the reason. Something didn't set well with him.

  "Ought to be over in that stand of trees. It's getting late enough in the year that the oak and elm are dropping their leaves, but the undergrowth is so thick that pushing through it will be a chore." She turned to him with a sour expression. "You could have taken the time to help me pluck the spines out of my feet last night. Making me run barefoot through the woods almost did me in."

  "I wouldn't mind running barefoot with you, if we're both barefoot up to our chins."

  "Oh? You want me
to leave my hat on next time we're in the sack?" She adjusted her black, wide flat-brimmed hat. She had tucked her long blond hair up under it to keep it out of her way.

  "I won't mind."

  "I'm not sure you'd notice since you've been avoiding me this past week or two."

  "I have not!"

  "Have, too. I thought you were beginning to show a trace of interest in me, but you jumped up and went tearing off into the woods waving your other gun around last night."

  "The deputy was creeping around. If you hadn't been so interested in your own pleasures, you'd've heard him."

  "My pleasure? Are you saying you don't get anything out of it, Mister Blaze? Maybe you'd be better off hunting for a nice sheep and forgetting all about me?"

  J.D. started to retort, then drew rein and took a quick look along their back trail. He was an expert tracker. Along with those skills came a sixth sense that told him when he was being tracked. As hard as he looked, though, he saw nothing to make him ride any easier. Imagining someone on their tail was unusual for him because he wasn't the jumpy kind.

  But he saw no trace of a rider.

  "What's wrong?"

  "I wonder if the best way to avoid being found is to follow us."

  "You think Bell or Morrisey is behind us? I didn't see anyone. Should we split up and circle around to see what we can find?"

  "No," he said reluctantly. "I'm anxious to find where the deputy cut down the second robber. It might be that some of the gold was buried there. If we find it, we have bait for the other crooks."

  "We'll have to be sure that doesn't turn into bait while they're fishing for us. Getting too anxious to trap them can work against us."

  "Just be sure not to miss with your first shot, Kate." J.D. pointed to a small clearing. "That's where the shootout happened. I see a branch or two with bullet holes drilled clean through them."

  "You have a keen eye. Just be sure you keep it on me when we've got all that reward for ourselves."

  "You have nothing to worry about," he said. Kate got a little jealous at times, but she had no reason. Money or not, she was the only one for him.