Riverboat Blaze Read Online Free PDF

across the table from the likes of Bat Masterson, Luke Short, and Ben Thompson, and held his own. Kingdom wanted to test himself against a man like that.
    He knew champagne and food were being served on the third deck as a celebration. He put on a gray suit. He only wore black when he was playing.
    He slid his .32 into his shoulder holster and left his cabin.
     
    Clint strapped on his gun and put on his hat. Time for celebrating, but as he opened the door and stepped out he wondered if he had done the right thing even coming here.
    He was sure Dillon just wanted his name, but Dillon had also been right. He had nothing better to do, and he hadn’t been in New Orleans in a while. He loved this city. The women, the food, the buildings. And then there was Ava . . .
    It had been worth coming for the couple of days he’d spent in New Orleans. Now, as long as the weight of this crazy boat didn’t take it down, a trip up the Mississippi might be interesting.
    He stepped out onto the deck and saw people standing around drinking champagne and eating sandwiches. When he entered the main salon, he saw a lot more than sandwiches laid out. There was quite a bit of New Orleans cuisine on the tables, with waiters walking around carrying trays of champagne in crystal glasses.
    He approached the table, saw trays of jambalaya, shrimp, pots of gumbo.
    “Impressive, huh?” Dillon asked. “All from our onboard kitchen.”
    “Is it any good?”
    “My cook is the best. I stole him from a restaurant on Bourbon Street.”
    “Well, I’ll let you know what I think.”
    Dillon grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and handed it to Clint. “You do that.”
    He walked away to mingle with his other guests.
    “Hey, you,” someone said.
    He turned and saw Ava holding a glass of champagne.
    “Hungry?” she asked.
    “For food?”
    “What else would I mean?”
    He smiled at her, and noticed her eyes shift past him.
    “Here comes that bitch Angela.”
    “What makes her a bitch?” he asked.
    She looked at him again and smiled.
    “Talk to her,” she said. “If you figure out the answer, let me know.”

TWELVE
    Clint mingled with the other passengers; some recognized his name, some didn’t. The ones who did either found it fascinating or shrank away, unsure.
    “You’re scaring some of my passengers,” Dillon said later.
    “I’m sure that was part of your plan,” Clint said. “To give them something special for the trip?”
    “They’ll learn that you’re harmless,” Dillon said.
    “After all, no one could have earned a reputation like yours—not entirely, anyway.”
    “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
    Dillon looked at the plate in Clint’s hand. It was mostly empty, showing the remnants of jambalaya and shrimp.
    “How was the food?”
    “As you said,” Clint replied. “Excellent. I was just heading to the table for some gumbo.”
    “You’ll love it,” Dillon said. “By the way, you haven’t seen Angela, have you?”
    “Not in the past hour,” Clint said. “Only when we first came on board.” True, as far as it went.
    “I suppose she’ll show up as soon as she’s hungry,” he said.
    “Tell me, are you and she involved?”
    “We would be if I had my way,” Dillon said, with a rueful grin. “So far, she’s had hers.”
    “Which is?”
    “To keep me at arm’s length, I suppose,” Dillon said. “She’s been doin’ a real good job of it.”
    “What about Ava?”
    “Beautiful, isn’t she?” Dillon asked. “And wait until you hear her sing.”
    “But you and she . . .”
    “Oh, no,” Dillon said. “She doesn’t want that kind of a relationship with me, and I can’t blame her. She works for me.”
    “Doesn’t Angela?”
    “Well, yes, but somehow that’s different. Are you interested in Ava?”
    “I think we’re interested in each other,” Clint said.
    “Well then, my children,” Dillon said, “I wish you luck. Go and enjoy . . . the gumbo, I mean.”
    Dillon walked