Diablo

by Potter, Patricia;

  Nicky watched from her window. She’d almost given up. Kane had been in the saloon for hours. Just as she was about to give up and close the curtains, she saw him. He didn’t even look toward the house, nor toward Rosita’s, but moved with that lean grace toward the livery.

  She waited until she saw him ride out, then quietly left her room. The main room was dark and empty. Her uncle had not appeared after leaving the table, and she imagined Robin was in bed. Wherever they were, she was grateful she didn’t have to make explanations.

  Nicky hurried down to the livery. She didn’t bother to saddle her mare, but led the horse out, closed the door, and, gripping the horse’s mane, she vaulted up on Molly’s back. Kane had headed toward the stream. To where they had made love? Without looking backward, she headed after him.

  Hildebrand watched Diablo leave the saloon. He still wasn’t sure whether the outlaw was a possible ally. He did know two things: the man had guts and was lucky. Those were two commodities Hildebrand valued.

  He didn’t mind losing the money. His life had been spent finding and losing large sums of money. The challenge was what appealed to him.

  Right now, the challenge was taking over Sanctuary.

  He had discussed the possibility with the Yancy brothers. Unfortunately, one had acted precipitously. Damn fool. Hildebrand didn’t trust too many men at Sanctuary. Hell, he didn’t trust anyone. He needed, though, someone smart and ambitious but perhaps not as smart and ambitious as himself. He wasn’t sure whether Diablo fit in that space.

  Hildebrand knew, though, that he couldn’t take Sanctuary by himself. He just wondered what Diablo’s motives were, the way he had been bootlicking Thompson. Hildebrand went to the door of the saloon and looked out, wondering whether Diablo was going to Rosita’s. Instead, he saw Diablo ride out of the livery. Just as he was pondering that, he saw Miss High-and-Mighty Thompson slip from her house and make for the livery. Several minutes later, she rode out.

  Was that it? Was she going to meet Diablo? Was that Diablo’s interest? Or did he have more—like Sanctuary itself? If so, the two of them were going to clash. He reminded himself that Diablo was leaving, but that just didn’t ring true, not with all his visits to Thompson’s house and the girl riding out to meet him.

  He immediately made a decision. He went to the livery, saddled his horse and rode out in the same direction the girl had taken. If she wasn’t meeting Diablo, maybe she might be interested in a little play. If she was meeting the outlaw, perhaps he could learn exactly what was going on between Diablo and Nat Thompson.

  Kane trotted alongside the stream for a while. He paused at the place where he and Nicky had made love, remembering, wishing. But not hoping. He had few hopes now, and none for himself.

  In his mind’s eye, he saw her there in his shirt: lithe and young and lovely, her brown eyes misty with wonder and her mouth crooked in a delighted smile. God, he’d wanted her. He still wanted her. He would always want her. He hadn’t realized he could love like this, that the longing could run so deep.

  Davy loved his Martha like that. He remembered the looks they exchanged, the touches between them. But Kane had never thought he would have anything like that kind of … belonging. Of giving.

  Kane shook away the memory. He turned away from the spot, unable to bear even another minute of memories. He was just turning back toward Sanctuary when a sudden thought brought him to a halt. He remembered what Nicky said about a secret way in and out of Sanctuary. This was his last chance to find it.

  He guided the horse toward the wall of the valley. He had searched it before and found nothing, but he hadn’t known then that there was a secret way through the mountains. It had to be a cave. He’d found no other breaks in the mountains other than those already heavily guarded. He knew he was engaged in a fool’s task. He could probably search for months, even years, without finding the hidden path. But he had to try.

  Kane circled the north part of the valley wall. The moon was laced by clouds and only occasionally lit the earth beneath. He stayed carefully in the shadows, looking for anything unusual: a bush that shouldn’t exist, a trail so faint none but the best tracker could find it. But where the dim moonlight protected him, it also protected the secrets of Sanctuary.

  He started back, the trail taking him close to the stream, too close. He couldn’t afford sentimentality. He couldn’t endure the lacerations it tore in his heart. Still, he found himself heading back to that spot as if driven by some invisible force.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Nicky approached the clearing alongside the stream cautiously. She had lived at Sanctuary long enough to know it wasn’t wise to sneak up on a gunslinger. She didn’t see Kane, but the trees provided some shelter, and the night was dark. It was really too dark, she knew, to be riding safely.

  She dismounted and walked Molly to the spot where she and Kane had made love, dropping the mare’s reins, knowing that she wouldn’t wander far. Nicky stood listening for a moment, trying to stave off disappointment that Kane wasn’t there. She had hoped, rather than expected, that this was the place she would find him. And now she felt a bitter disappointment that she was wrong. Did she know him at all?

  She simply had to see him before he left, even if she had to sneak into the hotel. She had to know if she meant anything at all to him—or if she had imagined that, too.

  “Where are you?” she whispered to the night.

  As if in answer, she heard Molly neigh a welcome, and she knew a rider was approaching. Then she heard the soft clump of hoofbeats against the earth. Her pulse quickened. She went totally still. But no one rode here at night except Kane; the others were too busy whoring, gambling, and drinking. Still, an edge of fear ran down her spine, and she realized how foolish she had been. She hadn’t brought a rifle. She hadn’t even stopped long enough to grab the tiny derringer.

  A figure materialized out of the night and instantly she knew it wasn’t Kane. Another man—he sat a horse well enough, but his silhouette against the dark sky was heavier than Kane’s and he rode slumped in the saddle. Molly was several feet away, and Nicky took the few steps to her side. Just as she started for the reins, the mare backed a few steps away.

  “Waiting for someone?” the man on horseback said. Just then a cloud moved to reveal the moon, and in the sudden shaft of light, she identified the newcomer.

  “Mr. Hildebrand.” She moved toward the horse again, the encounter with Yancy still fresh in her mind. This time, though, she had no weapons.

  He wouldn’t dare try anything, she told herself. But Yancy had. Something was happening in Sanctuary. The myth of Nat Thompson was fading. Refusing to let her apprehension show, she moved deliberately toward Molly, crooning softly to quiet her.

  She kept her voice low, her movements slow—not only because she didn’t want to scare off the mare, but because to show fear to a man like Hildebrand was to invite attack. The realization that he must have followed her only made the fear grow stronger.

  She reached out her hand and, this time, she gripped Molly’s mane. Moving to the horse’s side, she got ready to leap to her back.

  “Can I help you, Miss Thompson?” Hildebrand had dismounted and was moving toward her.

  “No,” she said shortly, not wanting Hildebrand’s hands on her. He wasn’t an ugly man, yet there was something reptilian about him.

  “But I insist,” he said, his voice low and threatening. He was close enough to touch her.

  Nicky shuddered involuntarily. She knew she had been incredibly foolish to come out here without a weapon. But she’d not been thinking about anything but Kane, and she’d expected to meet him here. Now she was alone, without a weapon, with a very dangerous man.

  “All right,” she said, knowing she wouldn’t win this contest by denying the fact that his strength was greater than hers. And once on Molly, she could make a run for it. “Thank you,” she added, trying to keep her voice calm.

  But he didn’t move. “Do you come here often, Miss
Thompson—Nicky?”

  “Often enough,” she replied.

  “Meeting someone?”

  “No.”

  “It’s dangerous to go riding at night.” His voice was a purr, but there was nothing soft about it.

  “I have a gun,” she bluffed.

  His hand went to her waist and moved along her trousers, then her shirt. “I don’t think so,” he said. “Maybe you wanted someone to come riding after you. I suppose you get lonely here.”

  “No,” she said, cringing from his touch.

  “Not even for Diablo?”

  Her heart slammed against her ribcage. There was a malevolent edge to the question. “No,” she said. “My uncle would kill anyone who touched me.”

  “Maybe once upon a time,” he said. “I think he’s slowing down.”

  “Keep thinking that,” she said, “and I’ll dance at your funeral.”

  Hildebrand’s hand came up and touched her cheek. The action was meant to be provocative, but it wasn’t. It was … abhorrent.

  She stood absolutely still, afraid to move, afraid to give him cause to continue. “My uncle is expecting me home. I would be grateful if you help me mount.”

  “Tell me more about Diablo first,” he said.

  She turned and wrapped her fingers in Molly’s mane, ready to try to mount herself, but his hands went around her waist and jerked her to him. “Now that’s not polite,” he complained. “I bet you don’t run from Diablo.”

  Instinct told her to be careful. She couldn’t throw Kane in his face. She heard the jealousy in his voice, the competitiveness. “There’s nothing to run from,” she said, forcing a coolness into her voice. “Now, let me go,” she added, finally letting her anger take form, unable to do anything else. He was too strong, and although his hands had released her waist, one had fastened around her arm.

  His grip tightened. “Tell me about Diablo,” he said again. “Why is he at your uncle’s so much?”

  She stopped struggling. If he would loosen his hold, perhaps she could mount and race for home. Where was Kane? “They play cards,” she said. “Why are you so interested?”

  “Everything about Sanctuary interests me, and the others,” he said. “We pay enough.”

  “And you’re protected,” she spat back. “That’s all you need to know.”

  “Some of us think your uncle is losing his grip,” Hildebrand said harshly.

  “You think you can do better?”

  “He needs help.”

  “You?” she asked, unable to control the contempt in her voice even though she knew it was a mistake. It was.

  He swung her around, and bent his face toward her. She tried to avoid his kiss, but she couldn’t. His lips fastened on hers angrily, and his mouth and tongue tried to force her mouth open. One hand went around her neck, holding her so she couldn’t free herself.

  She opened her lips and when his tongue entered, she bit down hard. He jerked away, cursing, but his hand stayed around her neck.

  “You’ll pay for that,” he said as he pushed her to the ground. She tried to kick him, but he pinioned her body and started tearing at her shirt.

  “My uncle will kill you,” she gasped.

  “I don’t think so,” Hildebrand said coldly. “I’m not the only one who thinks it’s time for a change. We’re all tired of his damn rules.”

  His lips came down again on hers, rough and punishing, and this time he didn’t give her a chance to bite. She struggled beneath him, reaching out to grab a fistful of hair, yanking as hard as she could. He jerked back, cursing, and the instant her mouth was free, she screamed.

  Hildebrand reared back and slapped her, dazing her for a moment. She felt him rip at her shirt again and knew the material had given way. Then he started on her trousers.…

  Kane heard the scream. He was upstream, near the place where he and Nicky had made love, and he knew immediately it was she. He spurred his horse into a gallop; wishing he had a gun with him.

  The first things he saw as he approached the clearing were the silhouettes of two horses, then, an instant later, he could make out two figures struggling on the ground. One, he knew, was Nicky. And the other …

  He slid down from the horse, just as the man twisted from his position on top of Nicky. Kane didn’t stop to think. Fury roiled through him as he tore into the larger figure, his fist ramming into a hard-muscled abdomen. He heard the grunt, saw the man double over, and he turned toward Nicky.

  “Watch out,” Nicky cried.

  Kane turned just as a fist came at him. He was too late to avoid a blow to his face, but he moved with it, and then both of them were on the ground. His opponent’s face was close enough now to see: Hildebrand.

  Hildebrand was wiry and strong. They rolled over and over, vying for an advantage and neither winning. Hildebrand landed a blow on his shoulder, leaving an opening to his stomach. Kane hit as hard as he could, heard the whistle of Hildebrand’s breath as it expelled, then hit him again—harder. Then he landed a crunching blow to the jaw, and one more in the stomach. Hildebrand rolled over in pain, clutching his midsection. He was finished. For the moment, at least.

  Kane slowly got to his knees, watching the outlaw closely. Kane had a knife in his boot, and he itched to pull it out and slit Hildebrand’s throat, but he didn’t. He was damn sick of killing, even scum like Hildebrand.

  Kane waited until Hildebrand got to his knees. “Enough,” the outlaw said.

  Kane didn’t take his eyes from the man. “Nicky?”

  “I’m all right,” she said.

  “He didn’t …”

  “No.” Her voice was barely audible.

  Kane still didn’t allow himself to look at her. Keeping his attention focused on Hildebrand, he said, “Nicky, come here.”

  He heard the rustle of grass as Nicky moved beside him. Unlike most women, she didn’t demand his comfort or attention. She stood quietly next to him, waiting.

  Kane wanted to kill Hildebrand, and what was more, he knew he should. He probably could do it with his bare hands—or with a word to Nat Thompson. He could ask for his guns and shoot the bastard himself, and he knew Thompson would approve.

  But he was reluctant to do either. He knew the burden of killing, and Nicky already had one death on her hands. He didn’t want to put the responsibility of another on her.

  “When are you planning to leave?” he asked Hildebrand.

  The man was still holding his stomach, but he managed to get to his feet. “A week or two.”

  “Wrong answer,” Kane said. “You go tomorrow with me, and I won’t mention this to Thompson.”

  “What about her? Will she say anything?”

  “Nicky?” Kane’s gaze flashed briefly to her.

  “No,” she agreed.

  Hildebrand’s teeth shone in the darkness. “I guess I’m leaving tomorrow then.”

  “Get the hell out of here,” Kane said.

  Hildebrand took slow steps to his horse, hesitated, then swung into the saddle, spurred the horse and rode out of sight.

  Kane waited until the sound of hoofbeats faded. Nicky hadn’t moved. She still stood next to him, and he put a hand on her shoulder. He felt her shiver, and he knew it was reaction rather than desire. “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she replied, then, in a small voice, added, “He’ll try to kill you now.”

  “I don’t think so,” Kane said. “He doesn’t have a gun, and he discovered I’m better than him at fighting.”

  “What about later? When he does get a gun?”

  Kane wanted to laugh. He didn’t have any later. No, Hildebrand was the least of his worries.

  “I can take care of myself,” he said.

  “That’s what I thought about myself,” she said ruefully, moving closer to him.

  “Where’s that derringer?”

  “I left it at home.”

  His hand felt her skin where the shirt had been torn away. He thought of Hildebrand’s rough hand
s on her, terrifying her, and for a moment he had to struggle to bring the rage inside him back under control. He felt her tremble again, and all the resistance he might have felt about touching her, holding her, disintegrated. With a murmured sound of comfort, he took her in his arms, holding her tight. Her heart was racing, her whole body trembling.

  She looked up at him. “What if he comes back?”

  “He won’t. He’s going to be hurting real bad tonight. And he can’t get a gun.” His voice turned harder. “What in the hell are you doing here without one?”

  Her hand went up to his face, touching him in the darkness as if she were blind and needed to reassure herself that he was familiar. “I wanted to see you. I saw you headed this way,” she said with characteristic honesty. Kane was both pleased and appalled. She had taken a terrible risk only to see him. Damn it, he wasn’t worth it.

  “I wasn’t planning to stop here,” he lied. “I was out riding, and I heard your scream.”

  But she seemed not to hear as she moved even closer to him, and their bodies began to react to each other. Her trembling had stopped, and it had been replaced by a warm and pliant softness. He felt himself grow hard. He’d been aching for days, every time he saw her, or even thought of her. The urgency became nearly unbearable as she stood there in his arms. Still, he forced himself to be gentle, afraid of reminding her of the violence she’d been victim of only minutes ago.

  “I wish I had killed him,” he muttered, half to himself.

  “No,” she said. “Then I could never remember this place as I want to.”

  “How do you want to remember it?”

  “Full of magic,” she said. “Magic and wonder.”

  The answer touched him. She’d asked so little of him, had offered so much. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Don’t let me spoil you on magic,” he said softly. “Or wonder. They are much too rare.”