Diablo

by Potter, Patricia;

  Kane had been thoroughly bound. He hadn’t been surprised to see handcuffs and leg irons produced from a cabinet in Thompson’s office. Nothing surprised him about Sanctuary. Why shouldn’t it have all the trappings of a jail?

  Neither the Comanche nor Evers had been gentle. They had pushed him in the office, roughly handcuffed his hands behind him, then hustled him into a back room. Evers had pushed him to the floor and attached the leg irons.

  He was familiar with the feel of them, the bite of metal. Evers nodded to the Indian, who left. Evers then leaned against a wall and looked at Kane, who remained on the floor. Kane could probably struggle to his feet, but he saw no purpose in it. With his hands chained behind him and a very short link of chain between his ankles, he could barely move.

  Kane looked around the room. It was windowless and completely empty. What light there was dribbled in from windows in Thompson’s office.

  “You could have had it all,” Evers finally said. “You ever seen a man after the Indians get through with him?”

  Kane wanted to tell Evers the Indians couldn’t even come close to approaching the agony he’d suffered the last few days.

  Evers’s face was twisted with anger. “I want to be there, too,” Evers added harshly. “Nicky … Nicky’s real special.”

  Kane dragged himself over to a wall and pulled himself up to lean against it. Where was Thompson? He had to talk to Thompson. Every minute was important now. “Thompson?” he asked.

  “He’ll be here soon enough, as soon as he knows what you did to Nicky. I wouldn’t be so anxious if I were you. If there’s one thing he hates more than traitors, it’s someone who hurts his family. I feel the same way.” Evers took several steps towards him. Suddenly, he aimed a kick at Kane’s stomach, and Kane doubled over with pain. Another kick went into his ribs. He stifled his cries while fighting to stay conscious. He had to stay conscious. He had to talk to Thompson.

  Another kick went into his chest, and his head bounced against the wall and everything went black.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Kane woke to a bright light shining in his eyes and a splash of cold water in his face. Every part of his body hurt. He tried to move, and that only made the hurt worse.

  “O’Brien?” The sound of his name seemed to come from a long way off. Instinctively he tried to curl up, but couldn’t. It hurt too damn much.

  “O’Brien!” His name again. Spoken with an urgency he didn’t understand. He tried to remember. Tried to think who he was and where he was.

  Another splash of water, and he tried to focus. Tried to remember. And then as he did, he wished he hadn’t.

  “Damn you, Mitch. Did you have to hit him so hard?”

  Kane heard that, too.

  “I would like to kill the son of a bitch.”

  “Later,” Thompson said. Kane knew that voice now. Everything was coming back, slowly. Christ, everyone was standing in line to kill him. The state of Texas, Hildebrand, Thompson. Probably even Nicky, now that she’d had time to think about it. Nicky had the greatest right.

  Thompson’s foot probed him, and he couldn’t withhold a grunt of pain. Then the light shone in his eyes again. “Get up,” Thompson said.

  Kane tried. He managed to get to his knees, but he was too weak to stand without using his hands, and they were still chained behind him.

  “Help him up,” Thompson said to Evers, and Kane was roughly dragged to a standing position against a wall.

  He struggled to remain upright. A lantern shone in his face, blinding him so he couldn’t see Thompson’s expression.

  “Who are you?” Thompson said.

  “O’Brien,” Kane said.

  “You’re working for the law?”

  Kane tried to straighten. “Yes,” he said, offering no excuses. Any would be self-serving and make no difference to Thompson. He had to convince Thompson to send his niece and nephew away. Now. And then provoke him into killing him and leaving his body where it could be found. Just in case Nicky didn’t contact Masters. He couldn’t blame her if she didn’t. He’d been surprised as hell when she had nodded.

  How many days did Davy have left? He’d lost track.

  The lamp seemed to dip slightly, as if the hand holding it faltered. He sensed, rather than saw, Evers take possession of it.

  “Who?” Thompson said.

  “A marshal named Masters,” Kane said. There seemed no reason not to identify the bastard.

  “What does he know?” Thompson cut to the most immediate problem.

  Kane wondered what Nicky had told him. Not much, apparently.

  “He knows most of the route to Sanctuary, and I left a clear trail for the rest of it,” Kane lied. He’d covered it damn well, and it would take Masters time. “It won’t be long, Thompson. You need to send Nicky and Robin out.”

  “Why did you come back?”

  Kane debated which truth to tell him. There were several of them. He knew there was probably only one Thompson would believe. “I came after Nicky. She heard something she shouldn’t have heard. I …”

  “You wanted to stop her from telling me?”

  Kane shook his head. “I don’t know what I wanted.” That too was a partial truth. He knew what he wanted; he just hadn’t known how to achieve it. “Just get your niece and nephew out of here,” he said. “Now.”

  Kane saw Thompson move. He seemed bent over in the shadows. In a moment he straightened up again. “How?” Nat said bitterly. “It seems I can’t trust anyone.”

  Kane tried to move, but it seemed only the wall was keeping him upright. He fell back against it. “Evers and you can take her.”

  “We both have prices on our heads. Besides, I don’t know if we would make it out alive. Seems there are a few plans to take over Sanctuary.” Thompson suddenly swung at Kane. It was a weak blow, but full of helpless rage. “God damn you. I trusted you.”

  Kane slumped against the wall.

  “Why?” Thompson asked. “Why, when you could have had Sanctuary? Was it a pardon? Money?”

  Kane laughed. It was a cold, ugly sound. “Not my life, and certainly not money. Hell, you offered more than the goddamn government could pay,” Kane said. “You don’t know how badly I wanted it.”

  “Then why?”

  Kane suddenly wanted Nat Thompson to understand. It wouldn’t affect his death sentence, nor the manner of it. He had violated Thompson’s trust and every rule in Sanctuary. There could be no pardon. He didn’t expect one. But he wanted Nicky to know. He couldn’t bear for her to think he’d betrayed her for money. “There was another man taken two weeks after my capture. He’d been trying to free me.” Kane paused, wondering whether Thompson was listening. “He was, is, the best friend I ever had. I was promised his life.”

  “And yours,” Nat Thompson said harshly.

  Kane didn’t say anything. He wasn’t going to reveal the real bargain. It would sound self-serving. False. Whatever credibility he had, which was damn little, would be destroyed.

  Evers held the lantern closer. “You don’t believe this, do you, Nat?”

  There was a long silence. “You know I’m dying,” Nat said to Kane. “Why didn’t you just wait me out?”

  “Davy Carson didn’t have that long.”

  “And Nicky? Were you just using her to betray me?”

  Kane sighed, forcing himself to refrain from saying the truth. It had been Thompson who’d thrown them together. Over and over again. He suspected the reminder wouldn’t help. “I tried my damnedest to stay away. I never wanted her a part of this. Her or Robin. Christ, I didn’t want any part of it.”

  “She’s trying to protect you,” Thompson said harshly. “Even now.”

  Kane groaned. No one knew better than he the gut-wrenching sickness of having to choose between people you care about. He didn’t want her to go through that, not for him.

  “Take her out of here,” he pleaded. “You and Evers can get through with your Comanches.”

  “And g
o where?” Thompson said. “All my money’s wrapped up in Sanctuary. I don’t have long to live, and Mitch is wanted. What kind of life will they have on the run? No money? No protection?”

  “Give yourself up,” Kane said. “Meet Masters. All he wants is Sanctuary. I think you can trust him to leave Nicky and Robin out of it … and I have a little money, enough for them to have a grubstake.”

  Evers snorted.

  Thompson didn’t say anything for several minutes, then spoke harshly, “If I left with my family, my own men would kill me. They suspect I’m sick. They might figure I’m going to the law.”

  “You can’t believe him,” Evers broke in angrily. “He’s just trying to save his own skin. Maybe no one’s coming at all.”

  Kane straightened. “I’m a dead man now,” he said. “I know it.”

  “What about your friend?” Thompson asked.

  Kane decided to gamble everything. “If Masters finds my body, he’ll release Carson. That was the deal.”

  There was a long silence.

  “Just why should I accommodate you that way?” Thompson finally asked. “If the Comanches take you, there’ll be damn little left.”

  “I thought you might want an example, a warning to those who might try to come after … what’s yours,” Kane said. “And you don’t have anything against Carson. I’m the one who—”

  “And I’m thinking now the death of your friend might be a worse punishment than your own,” Thompson said thoughtfully. “Think about that, Diablo.”

  The lantern went out, casting the room into total blackness. Kane heard movement, the banging of the door shut, a bolt shoved into place. Then total blackness. He slid down to the floor.

  He’d lost his gamble.

  Nat Thompson managed to take the steps back to his house without help. Nicky wasn’t there, but she would have heard him enter, and he knew she would join them soon. He headed for his desk.

  “I think I should take you to the bedroom.”

  “The desk,” Nat managed.

  Mitch helped him into the chair behind the desk, and looked at him worriedly.

  “Tell Andy, Jeb, and Sam that we might be moving out,” Nat said. “Tell them to keep it to themselves.”

  Mitch nodded but hesitated. “Are you all right?”

  “I just need a few minutes to rest,” Nat said. “Now get out.”

  He watched as Mitch left, then opened his top drawer and found a small bottle. Laudanum. He would take a few drops, enough to dull the pain. Not enough to sleep. He couldn’t afford that now. He unlocked the drawers to his desk and took out the clippings about Diablo.

  A knock came at the door. Urgent. “Come in,” he said.

  Nicky had washed and changed into clean clothes. Her face wasn’t splotched, but her eyes were red.

  “He’s still alive,” Nat said without waiting for the question. “Sit down,” he added as he looked back down to the clippings and read them more thoroughly. One did mention a man named Carson, who had been condemned with Diablo.

  As he finished, a numbness started to creep over him. He forced himself to stay alert. “Did Diablo ever mention a man named Carson to you?”

  He watched her try to remember. She finally shook her head.

  “Or mention a friend?”

  Nicky’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why?”

  “It’s important, Nicky. It might just save him.”

  “Will anything save him?”

  “It might,” Nat said softly. A plan was forming in his mind. “Do you really care?”

  “I don’t want to,” Nicky said, bending her head. “But, Uncle Nat, I don’t want him to die.”

  “Then try to remember.”

  She hesitated, apparently trying to recall. “I accused him of trying to save himself. He said if that had been true he would have accepted your offer.”

  Nat thought for a moment. Could O’Brien have made up that story? He had no reason to think it might make a difference. But it did make a difference. Perhaps he hadn’t been entirely wrong about the man. There had been something about him from the very beginning that had appealed to Nat, something that separated him from the others.

  He closed his eyes. The laudanum was affecting his mind as well as dulling his body. He knew he didn’t have much longer, maybe not more than a few weeks the way the pain was growing. What was best for his niece and nephew? That was all that mattered.

  Nat had always taken care of his younger, handsome, devil-may-care brother, ever since they were children in an orphanage. He’d loved John’s wife, and had promised both he would take care of the children. It was the one promise in his life he’d always kept.

  Nicky loved Diablo. That was plain enough. She’d protected him as much as she could. It was also plain to him that Diablo loved Nicky. Otherwise he wouldn’t have come back. He wouldn’t have condemned himself by warning Nat. He’d never seen so much anguish on a man’s face as he had moments ago on Diablo’s face, and it wasn’t for himself.

  There was one thing Nat prized above all else: loyalty. He and Mitch had that kind of loyalty, and he would die for Mitch, just as he would have for John. He understood that kind of loyalty, and now he understood Diablo and why he had done what he had. He wasn’t sure yet, though, whether he was going to forgive it.

  “Uncle Nat?”

  Nat opened his eyes. She was looking at him with undisguised worry. Worry for him. Worry for his prisoner.

  “You didn’t tell me everything, did you?” he said.

  A red flush flooded her cheeks. “No,” she said honestly.

  “Why?”

  “I couldn’t … I didn’t …”

  “Nicole,” he sighed. “Your mother was like that. Once she fell in love with John, nothing else mattered. Not that he was an outlaw, not that he was on the run. Sometimes, I look at you and I see her. She was so damned pretty, so damned stubborn. She would never stay behind and take care of herself.”

  “I don’t love him,” she said, her chin jutting out ominously. “How can I when …”

  “When you did the same thing?” he asked softly. “You were torn between him and me, and you purposely didn’t tell me things about our Diablo. I think O’Brien was faced with the same dilemma. He was offered his friend’s life for the location of Sanctuary. I think that’s why he came after you. He did what he could for his friend, and then he was willing to face my wrath to get you away from here, you and your brother. That took guts, Nicky. He knows what happens to people who betray me. The deaths aren’t easy.”

  She winced.

  “He practically invited me to kill him. He wants me to leave his body where it can be found, so his friend will go free. Apparently that was part of the bargain he made with the law, that if he died in the attempt to find Sanctuary, the man named Carson would go free.”

  “No,” she said with horror, then whispered, “he asked me to promise to contact a man named Masters in Gooden, begged me to tell him …”

  “Tell him what?”

  “How he died,” Nicky said brokenly.

  Nat nodded. So O’Brien had told the truth. The pain was getting stronger again. He needed more laudanum. “I’m dying, Nicky,” he said suddenly. “I don’t have any more time, but you do. You and Robin. If I can get you out of here, make sure the law understands you had nothing to do with Sanctuary.”

  Denial flickered across her face. “You can’t be …”

  “I’ve known it for months,” he said. “That doc who stayed with us said it was cancer, said there wasn’t anything to be done. I thought I had longer, long enough to see you and Robin safe someplace, but it moved faster than I thought.”

  “We can go someplace, find another doctor.”

  “I can barely stand, Nicky. I know I’m dying, just like an old dog knows.”

  “No,” she said vehemently. “We’ll find a good doctor.” The passion of her caring warmed him.

  “Yes,” he corrected her gently. “I have a few weeks, maybe a month. No l
onger. Don’t worry. I’ve had a long life, and I’ve had you and Robin.”

  Her face paled even as it continued to deny. “What are you going to do?”

  “Go to the law. Give myself up. Make sure they understand you didn’t have anything to do with Sanctuary. Diablo says there’s a marshal …”

  “Give yourself up?,” she asked.” I won’t let you.”

  “I won’t live to hang,” Nat said. “The only thing that’s important to me now is yours and Robin’s safety. If a posse finds you here, they’ll consider you as guilty as me. And God knows what will happen if there’s a shoot-out.”

  “Robin and I can leave, send a doctor.”

  “You don’t understand. Thanks to Diablo, the law has a damn good idea where Sanctuary is. They could be here in another day, maybe a week, but our secrecy is gone. If my guests get even an inkling of that, they’ll kill all of us. They’ll certainly kill your Diablo.”

  “You won’t?” she said in a small voice, asking for assurance.

  “I haven’t decided yet,” Nat lied. “It depends on you. I need him to help us get out of here. My guests are already very jumpy, and … greedy. If I disappear with you and Robin and Mitch, they’ll know something’s wrong, and I suspect they think I have a hell of a lot more cash than I do. I don’t believe the guards will be much happier with me. Once they know Sanctuary’s finished, they’ll loot everything in sight. We might well need another gun.” He looked at her for a long moment. “Do you trust him at all?”

  Nicky avoided the question. “What about Andy and Jeb?”

  “Neither of them are gunhands. I’m letting them know they should get out on their own. There’s no sense for them to be taken, too.” He needed another draught of laudanum. And rest. It was nearing midnight. If they were to leave, they had to leave before dawn. He decided to give her another push. “Can we trust him to get us safely to that marshal?”

  “What about Mitch?” She was still evading his question.

  “Once we’re out of Sanctuary, he’ll go his way. What about Diablo?”

  “I don’t know,” she said bitterly. “I just don’t know.”