Diablo (13 page)

“And you aren't a fool?”

Kane grinned. “I certainly hope not.”

“Then what are you, O'Brien? You're no ordinary outlaw.”

“I hope not.”

Thompson smiled at the rejoinder, but the expression had little real warmth in it. Kane wished to hell he knew what Thompson wanted. What game he was playing.

“Are you interested in my niece?” The questions reminded him of enemy cannon during the war. Kane had felt then that the balls were coming directly toward him. He had that same feeling now.

He shrugged. “You said she's out of bounds.”

“That doesn't stop some men.”

Now Kane smiled and, like Thompson, there was no humor in his smile. “I heard. I also heard what happens. I don't need more trouble.”

“You don't think she's worth it?”

Damn the man. No matter which way Kane answered, he was trapped. “It doesn't matter what I think, does it?” Kane finally replied.

“Do you ever answer a question directly?”

“When it makes sense,” Kane challenged, tired of the game. “I don't like being baited.”

“I'm not baiting you, Diablo. I'm interested in you.”

“Why?”

Thompson smiled again. It was no longer menacing but neither was it warm. “I'm not sure yet. Maybe because you might have saved my niece's life. Maybe because I might have need of a man like you.”

“I don't understand.”

“Mitch is getting old. I can trust Andy and Jeb, but neither of them have the steel it takes to run this place.”

Kane didn't believe what he was hearing. It must be a test of some kind.

But Thompson was continuing. “I need someone who can think, not just shoot. I need someone with brains as well as grit. You survived two years as one of the most hunted men in Texas, and you broke out of gallows row. I haven't heard of anyone doing that before. Problem is I'm not sure of you. How come a man like you went to the other side of the law? An officer and gentleman?” There was some mockery in the last, an obvious distaste for the respectable.

“Killing's killing,” Kane said. “There's not a whole lot of law in war, or even afterward, not if you're on the winning side.”

“Trouble back home?”

“You could say that. I don't feel obliged to give you my life story.”

Thompson hesitated. “I started Sanctuary twelve years ago. First off I just wanted a safe place for my brother's kids, a shack far enough away from the law that they couldn't find me. But it grew. First Mitch, then Jeb. I had kind of an arrangement with the Comanches. They didn't bother me, I didn't bother them. And I could offer them a few … items they wanted.”

Guns, Kane thought instantly. And whiskey. Nothing else would protect Thompson. He swallowed the distaste rising in him.

Thompson continued. “Sanctuary just kind of grew. Slow at first, then faster as it gained a reputation as a safe haven. It became important to make it secure, and I did. Those first visitors are either part of Sanctuary … or dead.” He hesitated a moment, then continued. “I've been safe here. You can be safe here.” There was the slightest hint of desperation in his voice.

“Why me?”

“I told you. You have brains. More than that, I think you care something about my niece and nephew. There's … Christ, I don't know, but most men here wouldn't have troubled themselves with a boy nor risk their own hides to help Nicky.”

“Why don't you just send Nicky and Robin away?”

“To where? Neither have been more than fifty miles outside this valley in twelve years. Robin is only fifteen. Nicky … well, Nicky can take care of herself in some ways, but …” His voice trailed off. “Damn, it's just not easy for a woman alone … and a boy.”

Something was not being said. Kane felt it. Like a ghost hovering in the room.

“Think about staying here, O'Brien. At least for a while. I'll make it worth your while.” Thompson rose, placed a hand on his desk and rested for a moment, then made for the door. He was gone before Kane could ask another question.

Kane continued to sit and stare at the desk. He was being offered Sanctuary. Safety. Probably even Nicky. Why?

Another trick? Another manipulation?

He swallowed hard. If it hadn't been for Davy, he knew he would consider it. He really didn't want to die, particularly not at the end of a noose. Kane looked around at the books, the comfort of the room. Nat Thompson had apparently lived very comfortably here for twelve years. Could he … if his life depended on it? With Nicky? Damn it, Nicky was the joker in the deck. She had been since he'd first set eyes on her.

She can take care of herself in some ways. But …

Kane knew. By God, he knew. She was so damnably innocent in some ways; she had been enticed by
him
, for God's sake, a man who wanted to use her. The thought of anyone else's using her, and for a different, more intimate reason, scorched him. The thought of anyone's laying a hand on her hurt more than he would have thought possible.

He could have her. He could have her and his freedom, and Sanctuary's protection. He could have it all if he surrendered what honor he had and gave up the life of the man who was closer to him than a brother.

Kane thought about the drawer, the unlocked drawer. Two options. Both of which led straight to hell.

And he knew his namesake—the devil—was probably doubled up laughing.

Chapter Nine

Nicky found her brother at the blacksmith's. He and Andy had just returned from hunting rabbits, and Robin held up one clean carcass with pride.

“Diablo gets some,” he said. “You can have the rest for stew.”

Somehow the leavings of a hawk didn't sound too appetizing to Nicky, but then she thought little would. She was still worried sick about the other Diablo.

She kept telling herself she shouldn't be. Her uncle had never lied to her, not once. He was usually brutally honest. But she had also knew what he'd done to the one man he'd found pestering her.

Kane O'Brien hadn't been pestering her. She had wanted everything he'd done. And more. Even now, she remembered the pure, joyous sensation that had galloped through her body at the touch of his lips.

She wondered what her uncle had wanted with him.

She tried to hurry Robin, but he was bragging about shooting the rabbit.

“First shot, wasn't it, Andy? Even with my bad arm.”

Andy grinned and nodded, oblivious to her scowl. She didn't want Robin to be proud of his shooting ability. She wanted him to read more and write better and maybe even go to a university and be something. Nicky wasn't sure how she could manage that, not now that her uncle seemed ill, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

Unexpectedly, a feeling of desolation struck her, settling in her heart.

“Your hawk's going to be hungry,” she finally said.

“You mean Diablo?”

She scowled again. She didn't want to be reminded that Kane O'Brien was Diablo. She wanted him to be like he was in the kitchen. She wanted to remember his gentleness, not the lawlessness.

“I mean he's your responsibility,” she said sharply, and he looked at her oddly. She was rarely short with him, and he'd always been able to get around her. He had been her world for a very long time; she still remembered how he had clutched her finger in his tiny fist when he was first born, when their mother was dying of childbirth. She had promised then to take care of him. It had seemed easy to an eight-year-old, particularly with the “housekeepers” Nat had hired until she was twelve. He had always been a good baby, then a good child. But now he was growing into a man, and she didn't know what to do about that. She didn't know how to help him. Most of all, she didn't know how to teach him right from wrong, when she didn't know herself.

All she knew about the outside world was what she read in books. Honor meant loyalty and fidelity. Her uncle deserved that for all he had given up for them. And he had given up much for them. She hadn't missed the longing glances he sometimes gave the mountains, nor the intensity with which he read clippings of exploits. He was a born bandit, a hawk like the one Kane O'Brien had found. She and Robin had clipped their uncle's wings, and he'd never expressed a word of regret to them.

And now he was sick. She knew it deep in her bones, and she couldn't leave him, not even for Robin's sake. There was also another reason. Kane O'Brien was here. Sanctuary was linked to him, and he to Sanctuary. He would leave—they all left eventually. But at least remnants of him would remain in this valley. Memories. A touch. A kiss. Her first real kiss. She didn't want to think how sad that was.

The thought left her cold and lonely.

She shook the melancholy away. She wanted to get back. She wanted to make sure Kane O'Brien was all right. Her tongue touched her lips, remembering the way he tasted. She hadn't known a man could taste so good.

“Come on, Robin,” she said impatiently. “Mr. O'Brien is up. Maybe he could tell you more about how he raised his hawk.”

Robin's eyes suddenly lit like a candle in the dark. He grabbed the dressed rabbit. “Thanks, Andy,” he tossed back over his shoulder as he dashed toward the house.

Andy grinned. “He's found another hero.”

“Better than the last, I hope,” she said, remembering the Yancy brothers.

Andy's grin faded, but he didn't say anything. He just went back to his forge and started a fire. “Have some horseshoes ordered.”

“What do you think of him?” Nicky asked.

“Diablo?”

She nodded.

“I'm not sure,” he said thoughtfully. “Your uncle asked me the same thing. He doesn't quite fit the reputation he has, and that worries me.”

Horror suddenly rushed through Nicky. “You don't think he's a law dog.” That's what her uncle called them, the marshals and sheriffs. Two had already tried to infiltrate Sanctuary. She hadn't known about them until days after they had disappeared. Nicky didn't know for sure exactly what had happened to them, but deep in her heart she knew they were dead. Neither had stood a chance, since they didn't have guns. That was a part of her uncle she tried not to think about.

Andy shook his head. “No. After that last one, Nat's been particularly cautious. Diablo is who he says he is, all right, but he ain't like the others, and that troubles me some.”

“Why? You aren't like the others, either.”

Andy frowned. “Maybe more than you would like to think. But I had a healthy case of the carefuls where the law was concerned. I don't think Mr. Diabla does. I think he enjoyed sticking his foot up their …” He stopped a moment, his face going red. “Noses,” he finally completed.

Nicky chuckled, delighted at Andy's embarrassment. She was used to rather colorful language, but Andy and Jeb and Mitch all tried to be circumspect. They didn't always succeed. “I don't think that's what you meant.”

“What I'm sayin' … he's not the kind of man to run and hide.” Andy's face went even more crimson, if that were possible, but he was trying to explain something that was obviously sticking in his craw.

The chuckle died in her throat. Now that Andy mentioned it, she knew he was right. “Then … why …?”

“Could be lots of reasons, I guess. A woman, maybe. Hell, I don't know. Just seems odd, that's all.”

A woman? Nicky fought the impulse to run her fingers through her hair. She didn't want Andy to see that small vanity, that sign of nervousness. Of course, there would be a woman. Probably more than one. Kane O'Brien was a handsome man, despite the scar, or maybe because of it. And he was a bold and daring one, the kind she supposed attracted women.

“Am I pretty, Andy?” She didn't know why she blurted out the telltale question. It was stupid. What was he to say? No, you're an ugly hag. She wanted to run away and hide, like she had sometimes as a child. Instead, she lowered her eyes so she couldn't see his expression.

“Aye,” he said softly. “You've always been as pretty as a buttercup, and your smile lights the skies.”

His voice wasn't just kind. The ring of honesty gave her courage. “I wish I had a dress,” she said wistfully.

“Because of Diablo?”

She looked up, met his worried, honest eyes. “Yes.”

“Be careful, little one. There's layers and layers to that one.”

“I know,” she whispered but she turned before he could say anything else, before there were any more warnings she didn't want to hear. She had too many in her head already.

Kane didn't have a decision to make. Just as he reached for the drawer to lock it, he checked the window and saw Robin approaching the house. He had all of a minute to turn the lock and move away from the desk. Damn it.

Still, he felt a momentary relief that the decision had been taken from him, at least for the time being.

Robin held up his catch. “Shot 'im myself,” he said with a pride Kane remembered all too well.

“Takes some doing to shoot a running rabbit,” Kane observed, and the boy's chest puffed out even farther.

“I'm gonna be a gunfighter someday. Like you.”

Kane winced at the description. He would never have called himself a gunfighter. He sure as hell never wanted to be one. “I'm not a gunfighter,” he said bluntly. “I'm a thief, and not a very good one, since I got caught.”

The glow of admiration in the boy's eyes didn't falter. “But you got away.”

“This time,” he said. “I won't always.”

“Uncle Nat …”

“Your Uncle Nat is safe because he stays put here. But he's in prison, just the same as I was. He can't go anywhere without being hunted, and neither can I. It's no way to live, boy.”

“People respect you,” Rob said stubbornly.

“People like Yancy?” Kane said with contempt. “Think about it, Robin.”