Diablo's Angel (Ranchero Trilogy Book 3)

by Donna Fletcher

  She stopped abruptly when she saw the dark figure standing in the middle of the room. For a moment she thought death had come to claim her, but she finally realized it was Diablo.

  “I heard you screaming,” he said.

  Lucia had seen her through the endless nightmares that had come all too soon after the incident. She had taken her into her arms, rocked her, and assured her with soft, loving words, until finally, her screams had stopped. Lucia’s arms had offered the comfort she had needed and she ached for that comfort now.

  Unwise as it was to seek comfort from the devil, something pushed her to do so. She hurried toward Diablo and before she reached him, his arms spread wide to receive her. She fell against his chest, her head resting there, and her arms went around him as his strong arms wrapped around her protectively.

  “Worry not, mi amor. You’re safe,” he said his voice powerful as if he commanded it so.

  Crazy as his words seemed, she never felt as safe as she did at that very moment, especially with him calling her my love, and yet she was in the arms of the devil. The thought should have made her see her error, but it didn’t. She didn’t want to leave Diablo’s arms. She wanted to remain tucked against him and the comfort his strong embrace brought her.

  “A nightmare?” he asked, holding her tight, hoping it would ease her trembling.

  She nodded, his warmth, strength, and the distinct scent of campfire smoke and pine, adding to her comfort.

  Diablo remained there, holding her, not wanting to let her go, enjoying the feel of her in his arms tight against him, as if she belonged to him. But she didn’t belong to him. Or could she?

  Crista’s senses returned to her like a cold splash of water to her face. What was she doing in the devil’s arms? Had she gone insane? This man had abducted her, though he did so to save her from what would definitely have been a horrible fate. Still, that was no excuse for falling into his arms.

  Why then did his arms feel so good?

  She stepped slowly and reluctantly away from hm. Had she felt his reluctance to let her go—a slight tug of sorts to keep her close? A thought that surely was complete madness.

  Words hurried out of her mouth. “I want to go home.”

  “And where is that home, Crista?”

  A shiver ran through her at the intimate way her name rolled off his tongue. It was like a delicate, lingering stroke of his hand over her naked skin.

  “I don’t know anymore,” she said with a gentle shake of her head.

  “At the moment, it is here with me and while with me, you are safe. Always remember that,” he said as if important for her to do so. “Return to bed and sleep, and dream of returning home.”

  “Soon?” she asked with anxious hope.

  “Soon,” he confirmed and turned and was out the door quickly.

  With hope strong in her, Crista went to bed and hours later and woke shaking her head. She had hoped, more expected, to dream of her return home to her family she barely knew, but instead she had dreamed of Diablo. He had held her hand as though he would never let her go as they walked and she hadn’t minded. The thought frightened her. Did it mean he would keep her and that eventually she would grow accustomed to being with him? Would she never get home?

  But then where was home?

  A couple of days later, Crista walked out onto the porch to see Alma crying to Diablo. When they finished talking, two horses were brought to him. Diablo mounted one horse and Ramos the other, and they rode off.

  Crista hurried to Alma, Evia already there consoling her.

  “What happened?” Crista asked.

  “Vilia is gone. She’s run off with Ortiz,” Alma said through tears.

  “Diablo goes to find and return her?” Crista asked.

  Alma shook her head and more tears fell.

  Evia spoke up. “Diablo cannot stop her from being foolish. He can only protect us from what Ortiz may do.”

  “What is that?” Crista asked a shiver of worry racing through her.

  “Bring danger to the camp,” Evia said.

  “It took only a couple of hours to learn the news was not good. Carts and horses began to arrive and people were piled into them. That the camp was being evacuated was obvious.

  While things were chaotic, people moved around with purpose and it made Crista think that a plan had been formed in case a time like this came and everyone had to leave quickly.

  Campfires were being doused, the few remaining children placed in carts along with a couple of puppies. Belongings were gathered and soon the carts started filling with people, and not long after that the carts began to leave.

  Not knowing what to do or what was to become of her, Crista hurried off to find Evia or Alma. She came across both women busy loading sacks of what she gathered were their belongings into a cart.

  “I was about to come find you,” Evia said when she spotted Crista. “You are to stay here and wait for Diablo.”

  “He will be here soon, before you leave, right?” Crista asked, another cart rolling past her.

  “He will come for you. Do not worry,” Alma said.

  “You can’t mean to leave me alone here,” Crista said, her skin prickling with fear.

  “His orders are for you to wait for him and we do not disobey Diablo,” Evia said

  “My clothes. Where are the clothes I wore when I arrived here?” Crista asked.

  “I don’t know,” Evia said.

  “Where do you go? And please don’t tell me a safer place,” Crista said, watching more people leave and growing ever more frightened.

  “To different places of our choosing,” Alma explained. “Some want to leave the area, others wish to remain in the only area they’ve ever known. Diablo secured various places for us all so that we may finally be free of this life.”

  “What of Diablo?” Crista asked.

  Both women shook their heads.

  “We leave here today, never to see him again,” Alma said with tears in her eyes. “He can be a harsh man, but a good one as well.”

  “You were not part of the plan,” Evia said sorrow in her voice.

  Crista turned a troubled glance on Evia. Was the woman suggesting that her present situation was her own fault?

  “Hurry,” a man shouted.

  Evia ran into one of the tents and Alma stepped closer to Crista to whisper, “You should know, just in case, that the path that took us to the stream that day, if followed to your right, will lead you out of the canyon.”

  “He isn’t coming for me is he?” Crista asked, though she felt like she answered her own question.

  “I’ve never known Diablo not to keep his word, but I also know that sometimes things don’t turn out as planned.”

  “Let’s go,” Evia said, once out of the tent.

  The man who had shouted orders to everyone, Benito, if she remembered his name correctly, helped Alma into the cart as Evia climbed up onto the seat and took hold of the reins. With a snap of the reins, the cart rolled off, Alma waving to her.

  Benito turned to Crista after mounting his horse. “You will wait here for Diablo.”

  He didn’t wait for her to respond, he rode off.

  Crista stood in the middle of the deserted encampment, the quiet so intense around her that she shivered. Fear immobilized her. She wasn’t sure what to do. Did she trust Diablo would come for her or did she leave and follow the stream and hope she could find her way to some sort of safety?

  She tilted her head back to look at the clear sky overhead. There were still several hours of daylight left. Did she take a chance and leave? Or did she stay? What if night fell and Diablo still hadn’t come for her? Worse, what if other outlaws made their way here? None of her thoughts helped. The only thing that did some good was recalling what Ricardo had told her one time.

  Doing something is better than doing nothing.

  Crista moved, searching the camp for food and a weapon. She used the blanket on her bed as a way to carry the things she found
. Food wasn’t a problem, much of it had been left behind. She was overjoyed when she located a pair of boots that fit fairly well, a little big but they would do. However, she kept the sandals she’d been wearing in case the boots presented a problem. She found a worn shawl and wrapped it around her waist. Luck had her finding two knives. One she tucked in between the shawl and her skirt waistband and the other she tucked in the side of her boot. She came across a discarded hat, faded and worn from far too many years of use, but it would keep the sun off her face. The final thing she had remembered seeing in the house was a canteen. She would fill it when she reached the stream.

  She didn’t know if what she was about to do was wise or foolish. All she knew was that it was better than doing nothing.

  She didn’t bother to give a last nod to the camp. She was relieved to finally be leaving it, making her way home... she hoped. She didn’t know what her actions would bring her, but she was willing to face the unknown. She had done so twice in her life now and while one proved a horrific experience, the other turned out to be wonderful. So good or bad, she once again was willing to take a chance on the unknown.

  If anything, Diablo had confirmed what the nuns had taught her… never trust the devil.

  Chapter 10

  Crista took a drink from the canteen. She had walked a good distance, stopping along the way for brief rests, worried if she traveled too fast her leg would give her trouble. She had realized after going a good distance that the path led downward out of the canyon just as Alma had told her. The problem was once she made it out of the canyon she wasn’t sure what way to go. She had no idea where her family’s hacienda was located. How then would she ever make it home? She warned herself not to think that far ahead. It would do no good.

  “One step at a time,” she cautioned herself and screwed the top back on the canteen as she continued walking.

  Dusk was hovering over the land when she finally gave thought to the night ahead. Did she attempt a fire? Or would that alert possibly other outlaws in the area to her whereabouts? And what of wild animals in the area? She didn’t even know what wild animals made this area their home. Without a fire to keep prey at bay, would she easily fall victim to one of them?

  Darkness fell with a suddenness that frightened Crista and made her wonder if her decision to leave the camp had been a wise one.

  She had spied a rock formation in the near distance just before darkness fell and thought it might make a good, safe place to settle for the night. She kept on course and was relieved when she reached the spot where she could tuck herself between the rocks. She should be safe hidden there. At least she hoped she would be.

  She wasn’t there long when she heard what at first she thought was distant rolling thunder. Then she realized it was the sound of approaching horses. Who rode at night?

  Those who didn’t want to be discovered—outlaws.

  Her stomach churned at the thought and her heart thumped loudly in her chest. What would she do if they found her? She turned to face the worn path, though dared not peek out more afraid she’d be heard than seen since the night offered some protection.

  She closed her eyes in prayer that they would ride right passed her, but her prayers went unanswered. The horses came to a stop not far from her.

  “It’s senseless in the dark and senseless to go this way. He would not have followed a path traveled by so many,” one man said.

  “Vega wants Diablo and the woman found,” another said.

  “Why not go after Diablo’s people?” the one who had first spoken asked.

  “Are you stupid, Leon?” the other asked.

  “Vega could use them, threaten their lives, if Diablo didn’t surrender the woman,” Leon argued.

  “Do you think Vega would barter for our return?” the one asked and laughed. “Not likely, and if Vega wouldn’t do that what makes you think the devil would? Diablo cares about nothing or no one. You’re obedient to the devil or you die. His people left under his orders, sent off to fend for themselves. If any had remained, Diablo would have killed them.”

  “What if they form their own outlaw group?” Leon asked.

  The other two laughed.

  “From what Ortiz told Vega, there’s not one among the group worth anything. Another reason Vega doesn’t need to add people to his crew that are worthless to him,” the one said.

  “Why does he want the woman so badly?” Leon asked.

  There was silence for a moment, then one of the men spoke.

  “Vega hates Esteban Cesare. Esteban bested Vega too many times when he was an outlaw. It would be a perfect revenge for him to capture Esteban’s sister, enjoy her while he waits for the ransom money, then send her dead body to Esteban.”

  “Esteban would only retaliate,” Leon said.

  “And Vega would kill him, something he has wanted to do for years,” one of the men said.

  “Let’s head back to Diablo’s encampment. Vega and the others should be camped there by the time we reach it.”

  Crista listened as the riders rode off, remaining quiet, fearful that if she made the smallest of sounds they would hear it in the distance. It wasn’t difficult to do, since her thoughts were lost in what she had heard.

  She’d been abducted for revenge. How ironic, since her parents had sent her away to protect her from what they feared might happen to her after Esteban had been abducted. Now here it was all these wasted years later only to have what they had feared might happen to her, happen anyway.

  After remaining as she had been for what seemed like hours but probably were mere minutes, she went to turn around to tuck herself deeper between the rocks for the night when suddenly a hand slipped across her mouth covering it while an arm snagged her around the waist, and she was yanked back against someone.

  “Stay silent, Crista.”

  Fear fled Crista, hearing Diablo’s familiar voice, yet harsh order. She didn’t want to admit it, at least not to him, but she was relieved he was there. She was also relieved to have heard the men further confirm that it was Vega who had ordered her abduction, though she wasn’t pleased to find out that it was because of revenge against her brother.

  She nodded and he lifted her to her feet, her hand keeping a firm grasp on the blanket she had fashioned into a satchel to carry the items she had collected.

  Once she was firm on her feet, he took her hand in his.

  “Follow along with me as quietly as possible,” he whispered close to her face.

  She nodded again, not sure if he could see her, but he must have, since he began to walk. It wasn’t easy to see where she stepped, her footing faltering a couple of times. Diablo steps didn’t falter once, but then he knew the area well, whether night or day, since this had been his home for so long.

  They walked for a while before he directed them behind a large rock formation, a good place to spend the night. With the troubling day having taken its toll on her, she was ready to sleep and escape, if only for a while, her distressing situation.

  Crista gasped when Diablo once again snagged her around the waist, this time slamming her against his chest.

  “Never, ever disobey my command again,” he reprimanded in a harsh whisper, his shroud-covered face nearly on top of hers. “When you are told to wait for me, you wait.”

  “I thought you meant to leave me there,” she said in her defense, a bit of fear nipping at her from the harshness in his voice.

  “I would never desert you, Crista. I told you I would see you returned safely to your family, and I will. But you will obey my command without question. Is that understood?”

  “Si, but you must understand—”

  “I understand one thing. My command is to be obeyed. There is nothing beyond that,” he ordered fiercely.

  Crista’s tongue refused to quick. “I was afraid—”

  “There is nothing to fear—”

  “When you’re with me. There is nothing to fear when you’re with me,” she said, reiterating the words he had
once spoken to her. “You weren’t with me. I was alone.”

  “You were told I would come for you,” he argued.

  “How do I trust the word of an outlaw?”

  “Don’t you mean how do you trust the word of the devil?” he said, correcting her.

  “Outlaw, devil, man, all three I know little of, so how do I trust any of them?” she asked, wishing she could see beneath the shroud and know with who she talked.

  “You don’t. You obey the outlaw, the devil, and the man without question,” he ordered. “Now sleep. We leave at first light.” He released her, though took her arm to help her sit on the ground.

  Exhaustion finally held Crista’s tongue. She leaned back against the rock with a yawn and a chill ran through her. She unwrapped the shawl at her waist, slipping the knife that had been tucked there in her other boot. She wrapped the shawl snuggly around her and told herself not to think, to sleep. Tomorrow was time enough to worry yet again and to deal with Diablo.

  Diablo was surprised that Crista did as he said without question, though the difficult day probably had exhausted her. That proved true when he watched her eyes close, her mouth open slightly, and her head begin to loll to the right. Not wanting her body to follow suit, he sat down beside her. As soon as he braced his side against hers, her head fell softly on his shoulder. He pulled her drooping shawl up to tuck in at her neck and planted his leg firm against hers to share his warmth, the mountain air growing chilled at night.

  When he was sure she was sound asleep, he pushed the shroud off his face and rested his head back against the rock to look up at the night sky bright with stars. Today, he’d almost lost all he had worked and planned for these many years. But what had really troubled him the most and put a dreadful fear in him was when he had arrived at his camp and found Crista gone.