Diablo

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by Potter, Patricia;


  She looked in her pile of books and found one of her old favorites. Sir Walter Scott. She had dreamed dreams of his heroes, but she’d never thought to have one, and finally she’d set the book aside. But now she believed in dreams again. She leafed through the pages to her favorite poem, “Lochinvar.”

  Oh! young Lochinvar is come out of the west

  Through all the wide Border his steed was the best …

  And then:

  So faithful in love and so dauntless in war,

  There never was knight like the young Lochinvar

  Her gaze fell to the ending:

  With a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye …

  Kane O’Brien might be a rather tarnished knight, but he had become her knight.

  Time was running out!

  Kane ran a comb through his hair and regarded himself in the mirror with disgust. For the past two days, he’d played with the idea of staying. Nicky’s heart, his own heart, against Davy’s life.

  But there really was no choice. There had never been one. He had made a promise, given his word, and he would keep it. But he had frantically been searching for a way out of this mess that wouldn’t destroy Nicky. After two days of hell, he’d come up with one. It wasn’t a great plan, but it was the best he could do. As for himself, he didn’t deserve any consideration. He deserved the hangman’s noose and to roast in hell for what he’d done to Nicky. He’d just needed her so badly, had needed the warmth and belonging. He’d needed to love and be loved. Just once in his life.

  He’d wished Nat Thompson had exacted his usual punishment on those who trifled with his family. But he hadn’t. The lights had been off when he’d returned Nicky, and the next day Thompson had talked to him again about Sanctuary. It was then that Kane started grabbing for a lifeline.

  It came when Thompson doubled over and grabbed his desk. His teeth clenched tightly together, and Kane had no doubt that the man was seriously ill. His face was pale, bathed in sweat, and Kane remembered another time when Thompson had suffered a similar attack.

  “Can I do anything?” he asked.

  Thompson nodded. “Glass of water,” he replied as he fumbled in his desk for something.

  Everything started coming clear to Kane then: the offer, the urgency of it. Thompson was sick, the kind of sick that was fatal, and he needed someone to look after both Sanctuary and his family. Kane wondered whether Nicky had any idea.

  The more he thought about that conclusion, the more it made sense. Mitch Evers was growing old, and none of the other permanent residents seemed capable of controlling Sanctuary. Kane’s offer to take responsibility for Yancy’s death, as spontaneous as it was, had evidently convinced the outlaw leader that he had the stomach for the job.

  Which meant Sanctuary would shortly be a thing of the past.

  If only he could keep Masters at bay long enough. Perhaps he could plead for another three months. He could be in control of Sanctuary then and close it down himself. He realized that wouldn’t be easy. The lair was altogether too important to those who used it, which was probably why Thompson hadn’t moved in that direction himself. Any sign of weakness on his part, and the others would turn on him like a pack of wolves.

  Time was what he needed. Time to get Nicky and Robin out of here before the whole thing blew to hell.

  He had to get to Masters, somehow convince him. It wouldn’t be easy. Masters was as hard-nosed as they came, and he obviously hadn’t had the slightest reservation about sending Kane to what could be a very painful death. Damn, but he hated being under the marshal’s thumb, detested the thought of begging him for more time. But at this moment, he would get down on his hands and knees and grovel if he had to.

  So many lives were teetering on the precipice. Davy. Nicky. Robin. Even Thompson, whom he was learning to respect if not particularly like. And Masters held the rope that could save them all. The question was, would he?

  First, though, he had to find a way to leave Sanctuary. He had to accept Thompson’s offer, but convince him he had some personal business to handle first. Perhaps Thompson would give him the directions in and out of Sanctuary. But Kane doubted it. The man was too careful. He wouldn’t reveal the secrets of Sanctuary until he was absolutely sure of Diablo.

  How much time did he have left? Less than a month before Sanctuary was taken, if Davy was to live. Kane had little more information on Sanctuary’s location than he did on that first day. He knew it was in Indian Territory and probably the Wichita Mountains, but posses could comb that area for months and never find anything.

  And Nicky. He tried not to think about that. He’d committed some stupid acts in his life, but none as reckless and damaging as taking her virginity and, he feared, her heart. He deserved any damn thing the U.S. government wanted to do to him. But Davy didn’t. Nicky didn’t. Young Robin didn’t.

  Christ, he felt sick. He was sick of himself. He would walk from here and lie to Thompson, just as he had lied to Nicky and Robin. He would lie and lie and lie to save a friend he’d led to the gallows. He would betray a girl who’d laid her heart in his hands, and a boy who had handed him trust. Disgust at himself and pure hatred toward Masters made him want to retch.

  He would see Nicky again today when he went to Thompson’s. She would look at him with those soft deer eyes as if he were God instead of the snake he was. He had to convince Thompson to let him go, and he had to convince Masters to give him more time.

  Kane O’Brien wasn’t at all sure he could do either.

  John Yancy had been to several towns, looking for the scouts who directed clients to Sanctuary. The towns were small, lawless crossroads in Texas where questions could be asked easier than in towns with strict law-and-order sheriffs. The last place he stopped was Gooden, Texas.

  He and his brother had been there before. It was where they had negotiated their last stay at Sanctuary through a man named Calico. There was also a woman who Yancy suspected was connected with Sanctuary in some way. He remembered that woman. Both he and Cobb had tried to take her to bed, but she’d turned them down flat. Like they were nothing.

  Perhaps he could get some information from her, find out when Calico was returning to Gooden. Then he could follow the man to Sanctuary. Once he knew the location, he could find others to help him wrest the hideout from Thompson. He and Cobb had already talked to Hildebrand about the possibility.

  Gooden was just as he remembered. Dusty, dirty, and small except for the number of saloons. He was running out of money, so he took a room in the cheapest hotel, spruced up a bit, and made for the Blazing Star.

  With any luck, Calico would be there. Or the woman might be persuaded to talk, one way or another.

  Gooden didn’t have any law, not even a sheriff. The last one had been killed, and no one had wanted to take his place, not for the few dollars a month the town offered. Yancy felt safe enough here.

  The saloon was full, the gambling tables were crowded and so was the bar. He looked for a bright calico shirt but didn’t find it, then his gaze went to the women. They were all pretty at the Blazing Star. The owner, Dan Calhoun, took pride in that. He also took pride in protecting them, so Yancy knew he had to be careful.

  He saw four, all dressed in low-cut blouses and skirts that barely reached the calves of their black-silk-covered legs. He saw the woman he sought immediately. She stood out from the others, not only by the number of men that surrounded her, but by the dark red hair that fell in curls down her bare back. She was some woman, all right, though too damn haughty for her own good. He and Cobb had talked about taking her down a peg.

  The thought of Cobb stirred the hot anger inside him. Hot anger and thoughts of revenge. She would pay for rejecting them, after she told Yancy what he wanted to know. Perhaps even tonight. He grew hard thinking about it.

  He moved over to the faro table where she stood. Her green eyes saw him, and she nodded, but it was only a small nod and had little welcome. “A drink?” he offered.

  “Sorry,”
she said. “I promised these gentlemen I would bring them luck.”

  “Yeah,” one said. “Can’t take her now. Got a hundred dollars riding on this.”

  Yancy tried a smile. He saw her eyes turn cool, and he knew he hadn’t succeeded. “Maybe later,” he said.

  “Maybe,” she allowed.

  He spent the rest of the evening watching her, hearing her laugh. Her eyes kept wandering to the door, and Yancy wondered why.

  It was hours and several drinks later before he finally got a minute with her. She was walking past, and he grabbed her arm.

  She pulled away, but stopped. “Sorry,” she said, “but I’m off now.”

  “Just a minute,” he said. “I’m looking for Calico.”

  Her eyes changed slightly. “So are a lot of people,” she said noncommittally.

  “I’ll make it worth your while.”

  “I never know when Calico comes,” she said.

  “I want to get to Sanctuary.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, turning away and looking toward the door. A tall, lean figure was entering. The newcomer hesitated at the door, his gaze moving around the room before stopping when it found the woman. Yancy could feel heat vibrating between them, and the anger grew in him. The stranger was just another trail bum from the looks of him, yet the woman had eyes for no one else once he entered the room. Damn it, John swore silently, she was with him, John Yancy.

  “Excuse me,” she said politely, and without waiting for an answer moved over to the newcomer and gave him a radiant smile. Yancy studied the stranger again, readjusting his first impression. There was a quality of danger about the man, an assuredness of movement that marked him as a man who knew how to take care of himself. Also there was something familiar about him that nagged.

  Yancy went to the bar. “Who’s that cowpoke?”

  “Smith,” the bartender said. “Ben Smith.”

  “Been here long?”

  The barkeep stared at him, hostility gleaming in his eyes. “Folks around here mind their own business. Mr. Smith does. You best do the same.”

  Yancy shrugged, though he took offense. Deep offense. He wasn’t used being talked to that way. “You know who I am?”

  “Don’t know, don’t care,” the barkeep said. “You want a drink or not?”

  Yancy felt like going for his gun. But the bar was full, and this was a popular place. There may not be a sheriff, but most of these towns had a lynch law of their own. “Just asking,” he said soothingly. “I’ll take a bottle.”

  The barkeep handed him a not very clean glass and a bottle already opened. Watered, Yancy guessed. Not like Sanctuary, where the whiskey was good. Where his brother had been killed. Where he had been run out like a common beggar. They would pay. They would all pay, including this insolent barkeep.

  He took the bottle and found a table, keeping his eyes on the man named Smith and the woman. They talked for a few moments, then left together out the back. He wanted to go after them, kill them both, but first things first. He would bide his time for a few days, wait for Calico. Calico was a surer thing than the woman. If the guide didn’t show in the next week, Yancy decided, then he would go after the woman.

  He filled his glass and gulped it down, then another. I’ll get them for you, Cobb. I swear.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “So you’ve decided to accept my offer?” Nat Thompson leaned back in his chair and puffed on a thin cigar.

  “I need at least two weeks first,” Kane said. “I have a promise to keep.”

  “That’s what I like about you,” Thompson said. “You’re reliable.”

  Kane shrugged the comment aside. “I don’t make many promises. I try to keep the few I do.”

  “And I have your promise you’ll return.”

  “You have my promise I’ll try. My picture’s still on a number of posters.”

  “I can help you with that,” Thompson said.

  “How?”

  “Our barber used to work for a theatrical company before he fell in love with the leading lady and killed her husband,” Thompson said with a wry smile. “There isn’t anything he doesn’t know about changing appearances.”

  “With my scar?”

  “He can fix that, too. He’s a magician, which is one reason I kept him,” Thompson said.

  Kane nodded. “When can I leave?”

  “When a guide returns,” Thompson said. “Should be a couple of days or so. He’s bringing in a new guest.”

  “You don’t trust me?” It turned Kane’s stomach to ask the question.

  “Step by step,” Thompson said. “I’m a careful man. Maybe in a few months.”

  A few months. Kane didn’t have a few months. Neither, he thought as he looked at Thompson’s pasty complexion, did Thompson.

  Kane shrugged. “It’s your deal.”

  “You might keep your ears open while you’re out there,” Thompson said. “I like to hear anything that’s said about Sanctuary.”

  “I will.”

  Thompson offered him his hand. Kane inwardly winced as he took it.

  “Why don’t you and Nicky take a ride, a picnic this afternoon. It’s a fine day.”

  Kane had no excuse, no reason to say no. He knew now that Thompson was playing cupid, that he hoped Nicky would insure Kane’s loyalty. But spending hours alone with Nicky was sheer hell.

  He tried to sidestep the torture. “Promised some men I’d let them try to get their money back.”

  “Plenty of time for that later tonight,” Thompson said. “You’re still winning, I hear.”

  “Nothing else to do in prison,” Kane said ruefully. “One of the other prisoners was a professional gambler. I learned a lot in a year.”

  Thompson raised an eyebrow. “In Texas?”

  Kane shook his head. “The Yank prison camp,” he said. “They didn’t let anyone close to me in the Texas jail.”

  “Except that priest.”

  “I doubt the guards will make that mistake again,” Kane replied dryly.

  Thompson smiled, but it was a strained smile, laced with pain. “I would have liked to have seen their faces when they discovered your absence.”

  “There was one man in particular,” Kane said, watching Thompson’s face grow pale despite the determined set smile. “I wish he’d been there that night. I owed him a few blows.”

  “Maybe you’ll have your chance at him some day.”

  “Maybe,” Kane said. “I found out a long time ago, though, revenge isn’t usually worth the trouble it brings.”

  “Is revenge why you crossed over the law?”

  “One reason,” Kane said. “I’ve never been real good at rules.”

  “Then how did you survive the army?”

  “More like the army survived me,” Kane replied.

  Thompson stood. “About … Nicky …?”

  “Are my intentions honorable?” Kane asked. “Isn’t it a little late to be asking?”

  Thompson stared at him. “I’m usually a good judge of character. I hope I’m not wrong this time.”

  A plea was in Thompson’s eyes, and Kane knew the time for fencing was over. He still wasn’t sure whether he liked Thompson or not, but his respect for the man was growing.

  “I told her,” Kane said, “I’m a lousy candidate for a future. But I care about her.”

  Thompson smiled. Nodded. Kane had the feeling that his comment was better received than declarations of love would have been.

  “Go on,” Thompson said. “I asked Juanita to fix a little something for you.”

  Kane turned to go, then stopped to look back at Thompson. “I’ll try to look out for both of them—for Nicky and Robin.”

  “You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think that was true,” Thompson said. His face suddenly contorted again. “Get out.”

  Kane closed the door softly, held on to the knob for a moment. He swore softly, then went in search of Nicky.

  Kane watched R
obin race ahead as he and Nicky followed more sedately behind. He kept his eyes straight ahead, avoiding Nicky’s searching looks.

  He didn’t know how long he could keep his eyes from her, could keep her from realizing how much he wanted her. Robin’s presence was the only reason he was controlling himself now. Nicky had looked so pretty in the kitchen where he’d found both her and Robin. He’d wanted to grab her, to kiss her, to just simply hold her. He longed to tell her he needed—and wanted—her more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life. He’d wanted to tell her how much she had given him.

  But none of that was possible, not until he worked out his problem, not until he knew he wouldn’t harm her even more than he already had.

  And so he had asked Robin to accompany them on the picnic.

  “Bring the hawk,” he said to Robin, “and some meat.”

  Robin didn’t even try to hide his pleasure with manly indifference. He grinned. “Andy took the sling off my arm for good.”

  “I see,” Kane said, then changed the subject. “You need a tether for the bird,” Kane said. “Go ask Andy to fix you one. About fifty feet at first.”

  Robin grinned. “I already did. I’ll get Diablo.”

  Robin was out the door before he could say anything else. Nicky looked at him with both gratitude and disappointment. She was back in her man’s shirt and trousers. As he watched, she ran a hand through her hair. It was now an endearingly familiar gesture.

  “Thank you for inviting Robin,” she said. “But …”

  “I know,” he said softly. And he did know. God, how he knew. He wanted to be alone with her as much as she obviously did him. But then he really would lose his soul. “But I need to keep my hands off you.”

  “Why?”

  That damned honesty again. He loved it. He hated it. Christ, it always made him feel lower than a worm. He wanted to be just as honest, but for Davy’s sake he was only allowed lies. “I’ll be leaving in a few days.”

 

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