Diablo (32 page)

“You ride in there with a posse, and at least half of them will die,” Kane said. “It's a natural fortress guarded by sharpshooters. It's also protected by hostile Indians.”

Masters sighed. “Where is it?”

That was a question Kane wanted to avoid for a few more moments. He damn well didn't want to tell Masters he didn't know.

“Indian Territory,” Kane said.

“Where in Indian Territory?” Masters persisted with single-minded persistence.

Kane silently damned him in every way he knew. “You want to hear my proposal?”

Masters shrugged. “Go ahead.”

“The man who runs it is dying. He's offered Sanctuary to me. In two, three months, I can just turn it over to you.”

For the first time, Kane got a reaction. Masters's eyes narrowed, his lips thinned. Kane watched as the implications of his offer were weighed, found wanting.

“You don't have two or three months,” Masters finally said.

“You can give them to me.”

“I'm not the governor. He made the terms.”

“You
proposed them. It was your idea to use me,” Kane said heatedly.

Masters hesitated. He'd never told Kane that.

“It was you, wasn't it?” Kane persisted, finally receiving a curt nod from Masters. “Now I can give you even more than you wanted. You can be a hero,” he added sarcastically.

Masters studied him. “Who runs Sanctuary?”

“A man named Nat Thompson.”

“Thompson?” Masters said with surprise.

“You know him?”

“I know of him. He was a bank robber. And a killer. Disappeared about twelve years ago. He's still wanted.” One of Masters's eyebrows lifted. “He's dying?”

Kane nodded.

“Why you? Why single you out?” Masters asked suspiciously.

“Damned if I know,” Kane lied, not wanting to mention Nicky or the boy. “I just know he asked me if I wanted to join him.”

“You're lying.”

Kane felt his hope draining. Masters was too good a judge of men. There had to be a reason Thompson would make his offer. Kane hadn't been in Sanctuary long enough to win the confidence of a man wily enough to keep his hideout secret for so long. He balled his fists. How much could he tell Masters? How little? He had to make Masters believe he could do exactly as he promised.

“I did him a favor,” he said shortly.

“What?” Masters asked.

Kane knew he had to answer. He had to make a case for more time, damn it, but he hated explaining himself to the marshal. “The ‘guests,' as Thompson calls them, smell blood. They know something's wrong with him, and they want Sanctuary for themselves. One of them made a move and … I happened to help someone close to Thompson. He was, well, appreciative.”

Masters was staring at him with a strange expression. “Another error in judgment?”

Kane wondered what he meant for a moment, then remembered their first conversation when he'd said his rescue of Masters had been an error in judgment. “Something like that.”

Masters was silent for a moment. “I want to know where Sanctuary is.”

“I can't tell you.”

“Can't or won't?”

Kane didn't know how far he could tantalize Masters. He needed the marshal as much as Masters needed him. The trick was not to show it, but play to his strength. He had—almost had—what Masters wanted.

“I can give you part of the route,” he said tightly. “Not all of it. They blindfold you coming and going.”

Masters stared, disbelief punctuating the features. “Surely if Thompson offered you … an interest in Sanctuary, he would tell you where it is.”

“Thompson is a very cautious man,” Kane said. “You must realize that, or you would have found him a long time ago. He said he would tell me when I returned—when, I guess, he was sure of me.”

“What excuse did you give him for leaving?”

“Just personal business,” Kane said. “A matter I had to clear up.”

“He accepted that?”

“No reason not to. I have a reputation, remember. That's why you wanted me.”

Masters paced the floor. “Carson's to be executed in ten days. I can't stop it without Sanctuary.”

“Then you don't get Sanctuary,” Kane bluffed. “Not now, not in two months, not ever.”

“How far is it?” Masters asked.

Kane was stubbornly silent. He was gambling everything now.

Masters swore softly. “You knew what the arrangement was. I can't change it now, even if I wanted to.…”

“Damn it, don't you realize this is a better one? Think about it, Masters.”

“It's not my decision,” the marshal retorted, a muscle throbbing in his cheek. “And if you won't give me more information, I'll have to take you back to prison.”

“Not without one hell of a fight.” Kane's hand went to his six-shooter.

“You gave your word.”

“I made you an offer, a damn good one,” Kane said angrily. He lowered his voice then. “A few weeks in exchange for one hell of a lot of lives.”

“On your word alone. The governor won't take that.”

“Make him.”

“Goddamn it, I would if I could.” Masters raised his voice in frustration. “I can't. You give us Sanctuary. That was the deal. That's still the deal.”

Kane stared at him incredulously. “I can't.”

“You must know enough to make some good guesses.”

“If you want to hunt in a hundred-mile radius with hostile Indians,” Kane said defiantly. “That's the best I can do.”

“Then you have to go back to Sanctuary.”

“There's not enough time.”

Masters lowered his voice. “I might be able to get you a week or two. Nothing like months,” Masters said. “How were you supposed to get back? Meet someone? I could follow.”

No, there's a woman in my hotel room who knows the
way.
Kane felt the familiar sickness. Only now it was worse than at any other time.

“No,” Kane said. “They take precautions.”

There was a creak outside the door, but Kane was too preoccupied with his task to pay much attention. There were lots of creaks in the floors of these hotels. But he took care to lower his voice as he humbled himself. “Will you at least wire the governor for more time?”

“Why do I think you know more about Sanctuary than you're telling me? A lot more.” Masters attacked.

“You have a suspicious mind,” Kane replied.

“You don't do a damn thing to help quiet it, either,” Masters said. “Damn it, O'Brien, I want to help you.”

“You want to help yourself. Don't get hypocritical on me.”

“I know you don't like me, but—”

Kane cut him off. “That's real intuitive of you. You can use all those brains to find Sanctuary.”

Masters frowned. “Goddamn it, get past your dislike. Think about Carson. Yourself. Tell me everything you know about Sanctuary. I can use it as leverage for a little more time. But two or three months is—”

Kane heard another creak outside the door, along with a muffled cry. He turned at the sound. So did the marshal. They stared at each other for a moment, then Kane took several quick strides toward the door and flung it opened. The hall was empty, but he heard boots going down the steps. He knew that cry. He knew the owner of the light steps.

“Nicky,” he called after the retreating steps. He started out the door, but Masters put a hand on his arm, restraining him. Kane tried to shake loose, but Masters's grip tightened.

“You know who it was,” Masters accused.

“Get out of my way,” Kane said with deadly intent.

“Damn it, O'Brien, I can't help you unless—”

Kane tried to shrug away again, but the hand was like a vise around his left arm. Swinging around, he sunk his right fist in Masters's gut as hard as he could. He didn't take time for satisfaction as the lawman doubled over. He landed another punch on Masters's cheek, and Masters landed on the floor. Kane ripped off his bandanna and jerked the man's hands behind him, tying them before Masters could recover from the blows.

Masters groaned, tried to struggle to his feet. “Don't run, O'Brien.”

But Kane was already out the door, taking the steps two at a time. Just as he pulled open the front door of the hotel, he saw someone riding hellbent down the center of town. He recognized the mare, then the slight rider in the saddle. He also recognized the gray following behind on a lead.

“Nicky,” he yelled and darted to intercept, but she only swerved past him with a new surge of speed.

Chapter Twenty

Nicky rode as if all the demons in hell were after her. Fierce, unbelieving fury had initially numbed the betrayal, the humiliation. But grief wasn't long in coming. Deep, all-consuming grief that was tearing her apart.

Tears ran and dried in the wind. Her heart dried, too, shriveling up in the hot windstorm of treachery.

I
made you an offer, a damn good one.
Kane's voice.

Then a stranger's:
You give us Sanctuary. That was the deal.

Those were the only words she was able to hear. The others were muffled by the door. They were all she'd needed, though she tried to hear more.

The truth was obvious. Kane had made a deal with the law. He had been playing a part: spy, traitor, betrayer. Nicky couldn't believe how stupid she'd been to believe he really liked her. He was trying to save his own skin by sacrificing her uncle, Robin, herself. No wonder he'd asked so many questions about Sanctuary. Why hadn't she guessed?

She'd heard his voice in the hallway and realized he'd heard that barely muffled sob. She knew she had to get away, had to reach Sanctuary and warn her uncle. Keeping her hand on her derringer, she had raced for the stable, intent on escaping Kane O'Brien and his lies. Praying for a few extra moments, she'd saddled Molly in record time and had bridled Kane's gray; the gray would go with her, so he couldn't follow. She'd used the derringer when the liveryman had protested, forcing him into the tack room and locking him there after taking his keys. Kane wouldn't easily get another horse unless he stole one, and then a new posse would be after him. After leading out the two horses, she'd locked the livery door, then mounted and raced out of town, barely missing Kane.…

She doubted it would take him long to find a new mount, but long enough for her to escape, for her tracks to be lost with so many others.

With every mile, her heart hardened, became more brittle, her sense of betrayal stronger, her grief deeper, her belief in herself smaller. If she stopped, she would die. She couldn't stand the pain. It would shatter her.
Give us Sanctuary. Give us Sanctuary. Give us Sanctuary.
The words kept echoing in her mind over and over again.

She had to warn her uncle. Kane still didn't know the exact location. He would have been blindfolded that first day out. But he could make some good guesses now, narrow the area for a posse, and eventually Sanctuary would be found. At least, some small measure of caution had kept her from giving him the map.

Diablo. She had tried not to think of him that way. But that was exactly what he was. A devil. The worst kind of devil. Cain, who had killed his brother. He was killing her now. The tears came faster as she thought of his touch, his gentleness, his lying, betraying gentleness.

She could barely see the road for the tears. She angrily wiped them away, and when she put her hand back down on Molly's mane she felt the horse heave. Dear God, what was she doing? She would kill Molly if she kept going like this. She leaned down, burying her head in the mare's mane, feeling the sweat on the horse's body. “I'm sorry, Molly,” she said with anguish. “I'm sorry.”

She guided the horse off the road at a walk, moving toward a series of gulches. She dismounted after a distance and stood there in the dark, shattered and alone.

Molly whinnied, nudging her as if understanding. But she couldn't possibly understand. Through the leaden grief, the hopelessness of feeling so betrayed, she tried to think. She would change horses, ride the gray bareback and lead Molly for a while.

Kane would come after her. He had money, and once he got into the livery, he could purchase another horse. It would take time, but not much. Therefore, she had to avoid the exact route she had taken here. She had to get home. She had to warn her uncle. And, ill or not, he would put his own reward on Kane O'Brien. Every cutthroat in the territory would be gunning for him. The thought made her sick. She sank to the ground and emptied what little contents were in her stomach. Aching despair immobilized her. She couldn't move. She couldn't think.

Molly nudged her again as if asking a question. But Nicky had no answers. None at all as she bent her head and wept until there weren't any tears left.

Anguished and desperate, Kane ran to the livery, found it locked, and broke open the door. It took him only a few minutes to break a second lock on the tack room door, negotiate for a new horse, and saddle it. The new mount didn't look as fast or as sturdy as his gray, and Nicky's mare, for all its small size, was swift.

God help him, what had he done?

Kane should have known Nicky wouldn't have waited in her room. She had been tense, uncertain, and he had done and said nothing to change that, except coldly leave her. And now she was running for her life, and probably for her uncle's without food or clothes or money.

And she was the only one who could help him save Davy. He should have told her everything. He could only imagine what she thought now. What in the hell had she heard?

Perhaps he could catch her. At least, he had to try. He knew a day and a half of the route now. If only he could catch up with her before reaching that rock formation that signaled the end of his knowledge.

Self-loathing poured though his veins as he thought of her out there, thinking he had lied to her, used her. He had to convince her it wasn't true. He didn't know how in the hell he could do that. Not now. “Nicky,” he whispered as he saddled his new horse, swung up into its seat and galloped out of town. “Christ, what have I done to you?”