Crystal's Perilous Ride

By Stephen Bly and Janet Chester Bly

What is going on in Kamiah, Idaho? Maybe it's a kidnapping. Or it could be a spy network. Or an international drug ring. Nothing makes sense to fourteen-year-old Crystal and her friend, Megan. They've been camping and traveling from California with Crystal's author father on a research trip and find themselves chased by the cavalry, stopped by a stagecoach, and searching for some unknown treasure. Meanwhile, Crystal takes her first official horse ride in desperation to save Megan and a new friend too. Will any of them survive to tell the tale? Authors include Stephen Bly and Janet Chester Bly who are listed on cover as Stephen and Janet Bly.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bly Books
• Release date: Mar 29, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370154005

Stephen Bly

Stephen Bly (1944-2011) authored and co-authored with his wife, Janet Chester Bly, more than 100 books, both historical and contemporary fiction and nonfiction. He won the Christy Award in the category western novel for The Long Trail Home, from The Fortunes of the Black Hills Series. Other novels were Christy Award finalists: The Outlaw's Twin Sister, Picture Rock, and Last of the Texas Camp. His last novel, Stuart Brannon's Final Shot, finished with the help of his widow, Janet Chester Bly, and three sons--Russell, Michael, and Aaron--was a SELAH Award finalist. She just completed her first solo adult Indie novel, Wind in the Wires, Book 1, Trails of Reba Cahill.

Book preview

Crystal Blake Adventures

Book 1

Crystal’s Perilous Ride

Stephen and Janet Bly

SMASHWORDS EDITION

* * * * *

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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For a list of other books by Stephen and Janet Bly write:

Bly Books, P.O. Box 157, Winchester, ID 83555

Or check website: http://www.blybooks.com/

Copyright©1986 by Stephen and Janet Bly

Cover illustration by Paul Turnbaugh

Cover Book design by Chris Patchel

Dedication:

To all our friends on the Camas Prairie

Chapter 1

The Wild, Wild Wash

"Crystal!" Megan screamed and ducked behind the large, two-toned blue pickup. She reappeared at the rear of the rig twirling a soaking wet towel. Hurling it with all her might at the back of Crystal’s head, she yelled, Catch! Then ran behind the pickup again.

Crystal spun around, flinging the dripping towel from her long, straight blonde hair. She giggled as she pointed the hose nozzle toward Megan’s hiding place.

A drenched, auburn-haired Megan gasped for air. Time out. Time out! she called as she collapsed on the ground in mock surrender, bursting into laughter.

This is some car wash, Crystal began as another wet towel caught her in the face. She whirled around to the faucet and twisted it to full blast. Megan Montgomery Fox, I’m really going to get you!

Megan, an inch or two shorter than Crystal, stood her ground. Crystal LuAnne Blake, you couldn’t catch me if a grizzly bear was chasing you. She waited a full five seconds and then darted toward the road. She stopped suddenly as she stared at a white Jeep turning onto the highway.

Crystal saw it, too, and dropped the hose. It’s those guys. Quick! We can't let them see us like this.

The two girls dove behind the pickup as the Jeep cruised by the station. They leaned against each other and breathed a sigh of relief. Why, Crystal, honey, you look simply ravishing in that early American wet rag, Megan drawled.

Well, Megan, dear, I must say that wet blue denim is definitely your color. Crystal plopped down on a bench to rest. Is this really the only car wash in town? She peered in disbelief at the World War II Quonset hut that stood unpainted in the stark northern Idaho weather for forty years. This is like another world—compared to southern California.

Megan jarred her back to business. I’ll spray the outside, if you’ll clean the inside.

Sure. Crystal jumped into the cab before Megan had a chance to try any spraying tricks. As she wiped the dash and seats she noticed her tan arms. For almost two weeks she and her dad traveled through the Clearwater National Forest, Crystal wearing long-sleeved blouses and jacket. She hoped she wouldn’t lose the tan she worked most of the summer to achieve. We should have worn bathing suits, she yelled to best friend, Megan. Then we could catch some rays at the same time.

Megan snickered. We could catch more than that. Maybe those boys would have stopped by earlier.

Look who’s talking. Just this morning you said all the guys up here were a bunch of hicks.

Megan aimed the nozzle under the fender to dislodge large hunks of red clay. That’s when we were stuck down that little road by those funny rocks. I thought we’d never see civilization again.

Which reminds me, I think I’ll write about those rocks for my freshman science project. They’re called the Indian Post Office because of all the messages carved on them.

How do you know about a freshman science project already? Nobody told me.

From Karla. One of the advantages of an older sister. But she says it’s no sweat. Thinking of a subject’s the hardest part.

Crystal thought of her sister for the first time in days. Karla was supposed to come on this trip with them. They’d planned it for a year. However, days before departure, Karla learned she needed to stay home for cheerleading practices. Crystal talked her dad into letting Megan come in Karla’s place.

And with your dad used to research for writing his books, you won’t have to do that part either for any project. Megan almost whined.

Nah, he’ll make me do my own. But you’ve got to admit, we’ve both already learned a lot from my dad going down that rough Lolo Trail. About an Indian woman named Sacajawea. About early American explorers Lewis and Clark.

Yeah. Just now surviving the bumps and bruises of that two weeks. But her smile showed she wasn’t whining a bit.

They established a routine on that trip. The two girls cooked the meals and cleaned up. Mr. Blake set up camp, chopped wood, and kept the fires going. Much of it was fun, but the girls felt remote at times. Days passed without talking to any other humans. However, they both agreed it beat sitting around home waiting for the first day of school.

And we’ll miss being there when Patty gets her horse, Crystal remembered with a sigh. All summer long Megan, Crystal, and Patty Devers dreamed about riding Patty’s new horse. Now, we’re twelve hundred miles away. She caught a glimpse of herself in the rearview mirror. As usual, she worried about her eyes. Too close together, and such an ugly gray. She preferred green, or even brown. She wiped off the doors and steering wheel, then hopped out to help Megan.

I’ve got the topic for my ‘What Did You Do Last Summer?’ essay, Megan began. Title: 'How to Be a Successful Camp Fire Cook.’

What are you going to teach them? How to drop hamburgers in the dirt?

Hey, come on. Not everyone can trip over their own feet. It’s a talent. I thought I’d include a recipe for Crystal’s Miraculous Oatmeal Chewies. It would be a miracle if anyone could chew one, right?

Crystal grinned in spite of herself. And what about Megan’s Exploding Baked Potatoes? We could have been killed!

How did I know you were supposed to poke holes in the foil and bury those babies in the ashes?

I can see the headlines now, ‘Russets Rout Rockies!’

The girls laughed until tears rolled down their cheeks.

This is more fun than summer camp, Crystal decided, but definitely not as inspirational. She sobered up a moment. Remember how we were going to go out in the woods and have a devotional time every day?

Yeah, but that was before we realized the woods can be dark, cold, and damp, even in the daytime. Maybe we’ll do it tonight. In the motel room. We’ll have a real bed and everything.

Oh yeah, real food. Dad said when we finish washing the truck we could choose a restaurant. He’ll be back from the bank any minute now. Let’s check out that phone booth next to the service station. Maybe it will have a phone book.

Do you have any change to make a call? We might need reservations, and it looks like the station’s closed.

Reservations? Crystal sputtered. In a tiny town like Kamiah, Idaho? Besides, the whole place is a reservation. Didn't you see the sign down the road: ‘Now entering the Nez Perce Indian Reservation.’

That’s Kam-ee-eye, not Ka-my-uh, Megan corrected. I heard the man at the motel pronounce it.

He also said this city has 1,500 people population, and it’s the biggest town in Lewis County. Can you believe that?

As long as there’s a pizza place, I’m okay. I haven’t had pizza in almost fifteen days. I think I’m having withdrawal pains.

Crystal pushed open the rusty phone booth door and closed it behind her in hopes a light would switch on. When it didn’t, she slammed the