Diablo (41 page)

Kane wasn't sure he could make it to Gooden. Or anyplace else.

Thompson moved slightly, took a sip from the bottle of laudanum, then looked steadily at Kane. “Nicky,” he said, “see how your brother is doing.”

Nicky glanced from her uncle to Kane, then back again. She was obviously reluctant to leave his side. “Please,” Nat said. “I want to talk to O'Brien.”

Her reluctance grew. It showed in the face Kane now knew so well. “If it's about …”

Nat tried to smile, but it was more a grimace. “It's not about you,” he said.

She looked at him suspiciously, but then got to her feet and went over to her brother, who was trying to calm his hawk.

Thompson was leaning against a rock. His face changed as pain obviously struck him again. Kane felt his own gut tighten in reaction. He wished like hell he could do something to help.

“I don't know if I can make it,” Nat said. “Swear you'll take care of Nicky and Robin.”

“I'll get them someplace safe,” Kane promised. It was all he could promise. He still had an appointment with the hangman. “I know some people who will look after them. I've already given Nicky the name.”

“I have some money in my saddlebags. Not much, but enough to give them a start. I just don't want them alone.”

“I'll see they get it, that they're taken care of,” Kane promised. “You've no need to worry about that.”

“Mitch … he's a good friend. But he's been outside the law so long, he wouldn't know how … to settle down. I don't want Robin to go that way.”

Kane nodded, his throat tightening. “Get some rest,” he said.

“We can't stay here long. This is a blind spot for the guards. I made sure of that, but when they find us missing …”

“You can't travel now.”

“Go on without me,” Thompson said. He reached inside his shirt and pulled out a map. “This is what you need. Trade it for Nicky's and Robin's safety.”

“You can do it yourself,” Kane said. “We all need a little rest.” He knew it was foolish. Thompson had little to look forward to, whether he died here or in prison. But Kane knew he wouldn't leave the man. Not to die alone.

Thompson's eyes searched his. “We would have made a good team.”

Kane grinned. “We still can. Just get some rest.”

Thompson nodded, took another sip of the laudanum, and closed his eyes.

Kane continued to sit there for several minutes, oddly pleased that the man found some kind of comfort in his presence. He wondered how long he had before Masters could no longer stop Davy's hanging. He should have taken Thompson's offer to take Robin and Nicky and go on without him, but he couldn't. How do you value one life above another's? He couldn't do it any longer, even though Thompson's life was short. He could no longer weigh loyalties and lives against each other.

Thompson's breathing seemed to ease, and Kane knew he had finally fallen asleep. Kane stood painfully and went over to Robin and Nicky.

Robin had taken some meat from his saddlebags and was feeding the hawk. “How's' Uncle Nat?”

“Sleeping,” Kane said. “Why don't you two get some rest, too. Evers is keeping watch.”

Nicky searched his face, frowning at what she saw, but she didn't say anything in front of Robin. Instead, she turned to her brother. “Robin … try to get sleep. We have a long ride ahead.”

“But I'm not tired.” His eyes were wide-awake with the adventure, and Kane remembered how long it had been since he'd been outside Sanctuary's walls.

“You will be,” Kane promised with a slight smile. “And you don't want to slow us down, do you?”

Robin shook his head. Kane wondered how much he had been told about his own role in all this, whether Robin knew that he had intended to betray his family, but nothing of that showed in his eyes. Kane looked at Nicky, and she seemed to understand. She shook her head.

He touched the boy's shoulder. “You've done amazing things with the hawk,” he said, as he watched the bird eat from the boy's fingers. Some hawks would never do that.

“He caught a bird the other day … while you were gone,” Robin said.

“Then he's probably ready to let go,” Kane observed.

Robin's face fell.

“Letting go is sometimes the greatest love of all,” Kane said.

He wasn't just talking about the hawk now, and somehow Robin seemed to know. He looked toward his uncle, then back to Kane, his face troubled.

“Is that what Uncle Nat is doing?”

Kane nodded. “We all have to help him do it. That means you getting some rest.”

A wetness glimmered in Robin's eyes, and Kane wondered if he knew more than anyone thought he did.

“All right,” he said and turned away, his hand touching the hawk's sleek head.

Kane looked down at Nicky, standing beside him. Somehow, her hand had slipped into his. She was shivering, although the sun was up now, warming the air. He took a few steps to where the ground curved up against rocks and sat, pulling her down beside him. He held her in his arms, trying to quiet the tremors.

He wondered whether she had gotten any sleep the past night before they left. He doubted it. He scooted down, taking her with him until they were both lying on the ground, and he held her, his lips touching her hair, his arms sliding up and down her arms in a soothing motion. Finally she quieted and lay still next to him. His own eyes closed as his arms wrapped tightly around her, holding her body close to his.

A cry from the hawk awoke Kane. Nicky was still lying in his arms, and he tried not to wake her as he looked around. Robin was talking quietly to the hawk. Mitch Evers had reappeared, and the sun had climbed several hours higher in the sky.

He shifted, moved Nicky. She didn't wake, which was, he thought, indicative of her level of exhaustion. Kane stood and went over to Evers. “Thompson still asleep?”

Evers nodded, his grizzled face wary.

Kane met his gaze directly. “I know you don't trust me,” he said. “You don't have any reason to. But I want you to know I'll do my damndest for them.”

“You hurt them in any way, and I'll hunt you to hell and back.”

Kane nodded, thinking that Evers would have to stand in line for that particular honor. “You think your ‘guests' will come looking?”

“Not without a leader. Now that Hildebrand's gone …”

Kane had a bad feeling about Hildebrand. When Evers and the Comanches had found Nicky and him, he'd said they had found Calico dead but no sign of Hildebrand. Calico was deadly, and if Hildebrand had gotten the best of him …

Where had he disappeared to?

“What about the Comanches who were with you?” Kane said.

“They left last night after taking what they wanted—and after they discovered they couldn't have you.” Evers gave Kane an unpleasant smile. “They were looking forward to some entertainment.”

“Can't say I share their disappointment,” Kane offered.

Evers ignored the comment. “They said they would keep a lookout, but we can't depend on them now that they have liquor and food. Nat was the only one who could ever handle them, and I don't think he can do that now.”

Evers stalked quietly over to Nat Thompson, watching him for a moment, and Kane followed him.

The laudanum had evidently done its job. Some of the pain lines had eased in Thompson's face, and he didn't look quite as pale. Evers's face was twisted with a pain of its own, and Kane realized their friendship was as deep as the one between him and Davy.

Nat Thompson groaned slightly and his eyes opened, trying to focus.

Kane knelt next to him, waiting several minutes as Thompson struggled to sit. Time was pressing down on him now, and Kane prayed softly that the outlaw leader could ride. He studied Thompson's face. “Can you go on?” he asked.

Thompson nodded his head. He looked over at Evers, his eyes glazing over for a moment. “Remember that time we held up a stage office in San Antonio? I was shot up all over the place and still rode two days straight. Give me your hand.” Evers leaned down and grasped it, pulling Nat Thompson to his feet. The man swayed for several moments, then steadied.

Kane went over to Nicky, who was still sleeping. He leaned over and gently shook her. He knew she hadn't had much sleep for the past five or six days, but she woke almost immediately. “Your uncle's ready to go,” he said.

Rubbing a hand across her face, she asked, “How is he?”

“Probably better than you at the moment,” Kane said, seeing the dark pouches of exhaustion under her eyes.

She sat up and Kane offered her his bandanna and canteen. Nicky quickly rinsed her face with the lukewarm water, then rose to her knees. Her hair was tangled, her face smudged from the trip through the cave, and her clothes ill-fitting, but Kane thought he had never seen anyone quite as appealing as she was at that moment. Her gaze, as it met his, was steady. She reached out her hand, and he took it, his fingers tightening on hers as he drew her up.

He didn't want to let go.

But the others were all waiting, all mounted except for him and Nicky, and he released his grip on her. He followed her to the mare, then cupped his hands into a lift. She looked down and gave him a grin, and instantly some of the weight lifted from his shoulders.

They set out at a slow pace, with Evers, who knew the area best, leading, followed by Nat Thompson, then Nicky and Robin riding side by side and Kane taking up the rear. They were a motley bunch, Kane thought. And God help them if they ran into trouble.

Ben Masters stopped his horse, pausing to wipe the sweat from his brow. Fifteen men rode behind him. Fifteen deputy marshals.

He had several maps, one plainly showing Wichita Mountains. He wished to God he'd gotten more information from O'Brien. Instead, he had to bank everything on two words from a dying woman's lips. But what she said had concurred with what O'Brien had said.

Prior to leaving, Ben had wired the governor, asking for more time for Carson. He'd lied, saying he received the location of Sanctuary from the man called Diablo. He still had hopes for O'Brien. He didn't know what had spooked the man in the hotel room, but his gut instinct told him he hadn't been wrong. Somehow, somewhere, O'Brien was going to do something right.

Ben had to believe it. Everything else had gone wrong, God help him. And now he had to finish this business and keep his promise to Mary May. What in the hell was he going to do with a little girl?

First things first. He and his posse had been out three days now, and the only sign of O'Brien was his gray horse, which they'd found the second day. The damn horse had been wandering in circles, and Ben's tracker had lost the original trail. The land itself seemed completely empty. No sign of the Indians he understood claimed this as their land. Hell, no sign of life at all. No tracks. No O'Brien.

Were they a day away from Sanctuary? Were they even going in the right direction? He hated this feeling of uncertainty, of wandering in the godforsaken prairie. He was tired of feeling alone, even when he was with other lawmen. Ben wiped his face again and led his small troop of lawmen deeper into Indian Territory.

Chapter Twenty-five

Hildebrand and Yancy made good time. The moon was nearly full, enabling them to travel by night. The incentives were right: revenge and money. Sanctuary should be a few miles away.

Hildebrand couldn't forget there was a marshal involved, probably a posse, which was why they moved so fast. He and Yancy didn't talk much. They'd never particularly been friends; they'd run with their own gangs. But their interests coincided, if not particularly their trust.

They stopped at a water hole. Yancy didn't want to, but their horses were nearly gone. Hildebrand didn't want to lose another one. Damn Diablo to hell. His only regret was that Diablo wouldn't be at Sanctuary. Thompson and the girl would be, though. That was some compensation.

Both he and Yancy were watching for Comanches. Hildebrand thought he could bluff them, too. He had a couple of bottles of whiskey with him just in case.

They reached the entrance to Sanctuary. Hildebrand saw a guard up in the rocks encircling Sanctuary. Only one, which was unusual. He waved. A shot splattered the ground nearby, and his horse shied. Then another man appeared and the two in the rocks seemed to confer. One started down the rocky incline, his rifle in his hands. When he reached the bottom, he lifted his rifle into shooting position, while the guard overhead kept a rifle on them.

Hildebrand recognized the man who had climbed down. He was one of the guards with whom Hildebrand often played poker. His name was Moses, a nigh-unto unforgettable name.

“Hildebrand,” the man said. “What in the hell are you doing here? I thought Thompson—”

“Kicked me out? He did. But I heard in Gooden that some lawmen might be on their way. I have friends here. They need to know Sanctuary's no longer safe.”

Moses' eyes narrowed. “Posse?”

“Could be. Marshal named Masters was snooping around in Gooden. He was getting real close to a woman who worked for Thompson. Diablo was going there, too, and I always thought there was something wrong with him.”

Moses studied him a moment. “Heard Calico was killed. Wasn't he with you?”

“Diablo took us both when we were asleep. I managed to get away, but it sort of made me wonder about him. Where's Thompson?”

“No one's seen him today,” Moses replied with a frown. “Or the woman or kid. And the blacksmith's shop is closed. A few others are missing, too.”

“Evers?”

“No one can find him, either.”

Hildebrand saw his revenge melt away. And money. If Thompson was gone, so would be his cache.

“How long ago was he last seen?”

“Last night. Diablo was with them.”

“Diablo?” Hildebrand's mouth pulled down on one side.