Diablo's Angel (Ranchero Trilogy Book 3)

by Donna Fletcher

“I have confidence you will do whatever is necessary to protect our child if it should come to that.” He turned away from her, getting out of bed.

  She would argue with him, but having heard the devil in his words there was no point to it. And what did she think would happen? Did she think he would say, we’ll go off together and live a happy life? She had wanted to make a decision for herself and she had. She chose to be intimate with an outlaw.

  “I’ll be gone for a while today,” he said, getting dressed.

  Crista hurried out of bed and into her own clothes, at times feeling vulnerable around him when naked. Or was it the realization that she had to live with the consequences of the decision she had made on her own that left her feeling vulnerable?

  You gave your heart to the devil. What did you expect?

  She pushed the thought from her mind as she combed her fingers through her hair, braiding it quickly. “I’ll do fine on my own. There is still food left from the items you brought back with you on your last trip.”

  He slipped on his shroud, though he didn’t cover his face.

  She followed him outside.

  “There is a storm brewing,” he said, tilting his head back to look at the gray sky.

  She looked up as well. “An angry one from the look of those gathering dark clouds.”

  His arm went quick around her waist to yank her against him. “I will return as soon as possible and you will stay inside.”

  “Si, Diablo,” she said sweetly.

  “Disobey me on this, Crista, and I will enjoy giving your bare backside a good spanking.”

  To her utter surprise, a spark of desire shot through her and she was quick to tease. “You’d have to catch me first.”

  He grinned, a devilish grin. “I’ve already caught you.” He gave her a thorough kiss that proved his point and left her standing there staring after him. “Do as I command,” he called back.”

  “Always,” she called out much too sweetly and his laughter echoed back to her.

  Diablo walked, his steps instinctive, not so his thoughts. Crista had taken control of them. She consumed him like no one or anything ever did. There was so much he wanted to say, so much comfort he wanted to give, yet in the end he had to send her to her brother. He had no choice. It had to be.

  He would have gladly remained here in the mountains with her, the two of them alone together. In the end, though, it wouldn’t have worked. There was a world beyond the mountains and she was entitled to be part of it. She also needed to meet her family and somehow settle, in her heart, the hurt they had caused her.

  He stopped, assaulted by the memory of the way she had slipped over him this morning and what she had asked.

  “Is it proper that I mount you?”

  He laughed, though he hadn’t then, his own words coming back to him.

  “Proper or not, you can mount and ride me whenever you like.”

  And she had, guiding his shaft between her legs and slipping it inside her with ease. She had sighed with such pleasure that his shaft had thickened and pulsed with a rapid beat. He had settled his hands on her hips, helping her set a rhythm that she had soon controlled.

  It was a memory he would never forget.

  He continued walking, shaking the vivid memory from his mind if he was to concentrate on what lay ahead. He had expected this meeting that was about to take place to be far different, but once again he had had to adapt. This time it was more important than ever that it went his way. He would not allow his plan to fail.

  It would take a good thirty minutes for him to reach where Ramos waited for him with horses. With the skies remaining heavy with dark clouds, he picked up his pace. He hoped the storm would hold off until he returned to Crista. He also hoped she would do as he had told her and keep inside the shack. But that was doubtful, since she had seemed to grow more confident and more independent after declaring herself in love with him.

  That she loved him always managed to grip at his heart and was the reason that this meeting go exactly as planned.

  Diablo found Ramos waiting right where he should be. As they rode to their destination, Ramos let him know that all was going as planned.

  Two hours later they stopped and saw a lone rider waiting near a formation of boulders in the not too far distance. Ramos remained where he was as Diablo approached the rider.

  “Diablo,” the man acknowledged with a nod of his head.

  “Esteban,” Diablo said, his greeting just as curt.

  Diablo now saw the similarities between brother and sister. His hair was as dark as Crista’s and so were his eyes. But where there were questions and curiosity in Crista’s eyes, there was a hardness in Esteban’s dark eyes. Crista wasn’t anywhere near her brother’s height of a good three inches over six feet, but there was a stubbornness that stirred in her that showed clearly in Esteban. He had a body solid with muscle and Diablo was well aware of his fighting skills. He was not a man to take lightly.

  “My sister—” Esteban demanded.

  “Is safe as you were informed or I would not be here,” Diablo finished.

  “How do I know that?” Esteban demanded.

  “You have my word.”

  Esteban looked about to argue, but stopped. All outlaws were aware that when Diablo gave his word, he kept it.

  “You are satisfied I didn’t order her abduction?” Diablo asked.

  “The news has reached me of Vega’s actions and intentions. I owe you a gratitude of debt—as long as my sister is returned to me safe.”

  “That makes a second debt you owe me,” Diablo reminded.

  “And one I will gladly pay once I see my sister.”

  “You sound skeptical,” Diablo said, hearing it in his voice.

  “There is word you disbanded your crew, sent those you protected off on their own. Everyone wonders over your plan.”

  He had counted on Esteban reaching out to the outlaws he knew to see what he could find out. “It doesn’t matter to me what others think. I always do what is best, which is why I’m returning your sister to you.”

  “She must be frightened.”

  It was good to hear worry for his sister in Esteban’s voice. “More worried that her family is eager for her return.”

  Esteban’s tongue snapped as sharply as Diablo’s whip. “She confided this to you?”

  Diablo silently cursed his tongue. It was getting as loose as Crista’s, though he kept it sharp. “It has been years since she’s seen her family, how do you not expect her to question it?”

  Esteban shook his head. “Rosa warned me of the same.”

  “Your wife is wise. You should consider her words,” Diablo advised.

  “My wife is none of your concern and either is my sister,” Esteban argued.

  “Make no mistake, Esteban,” the sneering command in his voice was clear. “Your sister is my concern until I return her to you. So mind your tongue before I change my mind.”

  Esteban clamped his mouth shut, glaring at Diablo.

  “You will be given time and directions, and be warned, Vega and his men roam this mountain and he still seeks revenge against you.”

  “I won’t be coming alone,” Esteban said.

  “A wise choice.”

  “This bargain we strike. It repays my debt to you,” Esteban said.

  “Your first one. You accumulated another and I will eventually collect on it.”

  Crista felt Diablo’s hand slipping out of hers. “No! No, don’t go. Don’t leave me.”

  She tried to grip his hand tighter, but it was like she never had hold of it and his dark eyes were blank as if he wasn’t even there. That he was already gone. Leaving an empty shell behind.

  She stretched both hands out to him, but she wasn’t close enough to reach him and when she went to run toward him, she felt hands grab her waist, holding her back. She went to call out his name but it came out more like a screech.

  “No! No, don’t leave me! Her pleas were drowned out by the screech
that continued after Diablo disappeared and she had grown silent.

  Crista woke with a start, the screech still ringing in her ears. She had fallen asleep under the pine tree and it took her a moment to regain her senses and the screeching to stop. The sky had darkened considerably. Rain was imminent. She needed to get in the shack before the clouds opened up.

  She went to move and the screech returned, strong and loud, stopping her. Her heart began to pound in her chest as she turned her head slowly. High on one of boulders not far from the shack stood the mountain lion.

  Crista still had to get to her feet, then she would need to run, and she didn’t know if she could make it inside the shack before the mountain lion attacked. She could get up slowly and walk slowly toward the shack, but would she waste precious time if the animal’s intention was to attack?

  The animal let out another screech and Crista decided she couldn’t sit there and do nothing. She had to try and make it inside. She got to her feet slowly, keeping her eyes on the mountain lion.

  Unfortunately, fear loosened her tongue and she began to chatter as she took ever so slow and cautious steps.

  “You certainly are a beautiful cat. I don’t mean to trespass on your lovely land. I won’t be long here, but I am enjoying this spot. It is so peaceful. I don’t blame you for not wanting strangers intruding on your home.”

  The mountain lion followed her with its eyes, though made not a sound. Crista wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. Was the animal just waiting for the right moment to pounce?

  With her fear mounting, she couldn’t keep her tongue quiet. “I’m familiar with cats, but smaller ones than you. The ones I knew were playful and loving, constantly rubbing against me and snuggling when they got the chance. They were delightful and I loved them, though I had a favorite—Midnight. You can probably guess why. He was a black cat and so loving, though he showed his claws when necessary. He greeted me each morning when I stepped outside, of course, that could be because I fed him, though he followed me around quite often and would plop in my lap when I sat and fell asleep as if I was his private bed. I hated leaving him and I miss him so much.”

  Crista almost froze when the mountain lion began to keep step with her. “I chatter far too much when I’m frightened and I admit I am frightened of you, but I am no threat to you. I mean you no harm.”

  She was barely halfway to the shack and with the animal moving closer, it made her chances of reaching the shack before he attacked less likely.

  “I think we should call a truce here. I have no desire to harm you and I would appreciate it if you didn’t harm me.”

  The lion’s head went up suddenly and let loose with a screech.

  Crista froze, a foolish choice, but not hers since instinct seemed to call for it.

  The familiar crack of a whip split the air and the mountain lion jumped back but didn’t run off.

  “She’s mine!” came Diablo’s forceful command.

  The lion roared again, looked to Crista, then walked off slowly as though letting Diablo know that he didn’t frighten him.

  “You thought your endless chatter would bore the animal to death?”

  She wasn’t sure if he was being humorous or sarcastic, but if he thought she was going to fall into his arms with gratitude—though that had been her first thought until he spoke—he was wrong. She turned with her chin up and stumbled forward, her limbs having turned weak with fear. And did what she hadn’t intended—fell into his outstretched arms.

  Diablo caught her and scooped her up.

  “I was having a good conversation with the animal,” she said, having managed to keep her chin high regardless of her graceless stumble.

  “And did you intend to thank him while he tore you apart?”

  “He didn’t look hungry to me,” she counted, though couldn’t stop the shudder the image had invoked.

  “Or you were too easy of a prey to ignore.”

  “You think he tracked us here?” she asked at the horrifying thought and stretched her neck around to see if the lion was really gone.

  He took her inside the shack and placed her on her feet, keeping his hand at her waist to make sure she could stand without a problem. Though, even when he saw that she could, he left his hand to linger there.

  “In all my years in the mountains, I have only seen a mountain lion do that once,” he said.

  “Tell me,” she urged.

  “There was an old woman who made her way to one of my camps—Damia. It wasn’t long after her arrival that a mountain lion showed himself when the women were at the stream. They all ran, but Damia remained washing the clothes. Each time the women returned to the stream so did the mountain lion. He would sit and stare at Damia. He never approached her, he would just sit and stare.

  “Many in the camp grew uneasy with the animal’s presence and requested that it be killed. Damia came to me and begged me not to kill the beautiful creature. She even offered to leave the camp, insisting the animal would follow her. I asked her how she could be sure. She told me that she was from the local native tribe the Tongvas or how others refer to them, the Gabrielinos Tribe. They believe that an animal attaches itself to a person when in need of its strength. And she was in need of strength, having come from a situation where she had been badly abused. She informed me that as soon as her strength returned, the animal would be seen no more.”

  “Please tell me your curiosity kept you from killing the lion,” she said.

  “There is no room for curiosity when you’re an outlaw. There was room, however, for me to allow her to have her belief. Four months later the animal was seen no more.”

  Crista stepped away from him and went to sit on the edge of the bed, bracing her hands to either side of her as her brow scrunched in thought.

  The lion had appeared when she woke feeling helpless from her dream. Had the animal come to offer his strength?

  “Twice he has made himself known to you and twice he hasn’t attacked you. And this time he sauntered off without fear. He behaves much like the old woman’s lion,” Diablo explained. “While you are strong for all you have been through; I would say you can use all the strength you can get. I’ve met with your brother… you will be returned to him soon.”

  Chapter 17

  Crista woke the next morning thinking this could be the day—her last day with Diablo. The thought tore at her heart. She didn’t know how she was going to say good-bye to him without breaking down in tears. And she couldn’t do that in front of her brother. Then there was the constant worry of meeting with a family she barely recalled.

  She finished washing from the bucket of water Diablo brought to her each day and once done combing her fingers through her hair to let the long dark waves fall free, she took the bucket outside and dumped the water on the side of the shack.

  The mountain lion poked its head from behind a boulder and stared at her.

  “Good morning and thank you,” she said softly. “I appreciate you sharing your strength with me.”

  “He lingers near,” Diablo said as she turned to find him a few feet away.

  “Are you certain he won’t attack?” she asked in a near whisper.

  He stretched his hand out to her. “He’s a wild animal, therefore, unpredictable.”

  Similar to you, she thought and hurried to take his hand. He was shirtless, his hair damp from his own washing at the stream earlier, and more handsome than ever. She lingered liberally on his features, wanting to sear his face in her memory so that it would never fade.

  He tugged her close to him, seeing the sorrow in her eyes and wanting to comfort her. “Your family has a good reputation in the area.”

  “That does little to soothe me since the nun who beat me also had an excellent reputation,” she said, a heavy frown on her face.

  “You will see that what I do is for the best,” he said, leaning down to kiss her.

  She turned her face away. “Trying to assuage me or your own guilt?”

 
He let her go and stepped away from her. “I have nothing to feel guilty about.”

  The chill in his words made her shiver. She shook her head annoyed with herself and glanced up at the lion still staring down at her.

  It looks like I’m in dire need of your strength.

  She turned. “You’re right. I made a choice and I don’t regret it. I’ll never regret it.” She went to walk past him, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her to him.

  “I don’t regret it either,” he said and brought his mouth down on hers in one of his crushing kisses.

  It was as if he took possession of her when he kissed her that way, like he would never let her go. That he truly meant it when he’d say she’s mine. It was then when she believed—she felt—he loved her.

  His lips never left hers as he walked her, his hands at her waist, around the corner of the shack and inside.

  “I want you,” he whispered in her ear when he moved his mouth off hers to nibble at her ear.

  He stripped her of her clothes quickly and discarded his own just as fast. She was on the bed with him inside her before she knew what happened. Not that she minded. She loved the feel of him thick and strong inside her and that he didn’t wait, he moved with determination that sent her passion soaring.

  This would be a quick mating and she loved those as much as the lingering ones, where they took the time to explore and enjoy each other.

  But most importantly was that he admitted that he wanted her. That made all the difference and soared her passion even more.

  It didn’t take long for her to explode in her usual frenzy of pleasure. Each time seemed more intense than the last, a reason to look forward to the next time.

  But would there be a next time? That was the question that haunted her and frightened her at the same time. When was the last time they would ever make love?

  Crista woke the next morning alone. She didn’t get upset, Diablo often went and caught fish for them for breakfast or they’d eat from the provisions he’d bring back with him to wherever it was he had been.