Diablo (26 page)

“Thompson ain't no pushover.”

“He didn't
used
to be. But I agree with Sam. Thompson and Evers are old. That's why they need Diablo. I heard them talking about it. I don't think Evers likes it much, though.”

“And the girl?”

“Hell, she seems sweet on him. Sam thinks she's part of the deal with Diablo. I wouldn't mind tasting her myself.”

“We'll all have that chance when Sam gets back.”

“Mebbe we shouldn't wait for Sam.”

“That's fool's talk,” one of the men said derisively. “Ain't no one going to join us till Hildebrand gets back and we get those guns.”

“His leaving's pretty sudden.”

“It's his chance to get Diablo before he can bring men back here.”

“Wonder if that's the only reason. Hildebrand didn't look too good when he came in last night.”

“Sam can take care of himself. I worked with him on other jobs. He's a good planner.”

The footsteps and spurs retreated, and Nicky stood, leaning against the wall of the stall. She waited what seemed ages, enough time for the men to disappear from sight. Then, keeping herself close to the buildings, she headed for home. Home. She wondered whether Sanctuary would ever be that again.

When she reached the house, she went immediately to her uncle's room and knocked lightly. A grunt answered, and she went inside. He was in bed, his face even paler than before, but he tried to smile. The old confidence was gone, though, and for the first time she realized how truly ill he was.

“Nicky, what is it?”

She wanted to tell him, started to tell him. He had always been the epitome of strength and infallibility. Her protector, hers and Robin's. But he looked so old. She couldn't tell him about the threat. He would go after Calico and Hildebrand himself, and she knew he wouldn't make it.

Mitch. She would go to Mitch.

Nicky tried a smile and went over to her uncle, reaching over to take his hand. “I think we should get a doctor. A good doctor.”

“I'm all right,” he said, sitting. He tried not to reveal the effort it took him, but he couldn't.

“You stay here,” she said. “You deserve some rest.” She hurried out. Mitch had a small house next to theirs. She knocked on the door and waited, but he didn't answer. She thought about Andy, but Andy wasn't a gunhand. She thought about the guards over the passes into Sanctuary, but if Calico had turned traitor, then she couldn't be sure of their loyalty either.

Ain't no one going to join us until Hildebrand gets back.

Kane was her one hope, and Kane was also in danger. She couldn't wait until Mitch returned. He might be out looking for supply wagons, or meeting with their Indian allies.

She went to her room, scribbled out two notes, one for Mitch and one for Andy, warning them of trouble, telling them of the plot and that she would go after Kane. She didn't want to talk to Andy. He would try to talk her out of going.

She would leave the one for Mitch in his house, and the one for Andy in the stable. If he were there when she went to get Molly, she would leave it in Molly's stall where he would find it but not soon enough to stop her.

She took the map she'd found in her uncle's drawer, tucked the derringer in her trousers, and took her rifle out of its locked cabinet. Shoving an old hat on her head, she then packed one change of clothes in her saddlebags, some candles, and some bread she'd baked the previous day.

She knew she would have to hurry, and she knew she would take the entrance through the caves. She didn't want anyone to know she'd left, no one who might have an interest in those leaving and approaching Sanctuary.

Nicky walked swiftly to the stable. She saw smoke rising from the blacksmith shop next to the stable and knew Andy was there. At least, she wouldn't have to lie to him. She hurriedly saddled Molly and fitted the rifle into the scabbard. She left the note, telling Andy she'd gone after Kane and asking Juanita to look after her uncle and brother. Then she mounted and walked Molly out. A man was loitering outside the hotel, his gaze on the Thompson house. Nicky doubted whether her uncle would leave the house, not until he felt better, but even if he did no one would find the guns and rifles. They were locked away in a room under the house. The entrance was covered by what looked like flooring, then carpet. Unless someone knew the exact location, they would never find it.

Nicky walked Molly slowly out of town, but once out of sight of the buildings, she gave the mare her head. They had a lot of miles to make up.

Gooden, Texas

Ben Masters was looking forward to his outing with Mary May. In the first place, he enjoyed her company. In the second, he needed the exercise. He dismissed the part of his conscience that said he had no business leaving Gooden now.

“I thought you might decide against this,” she said, when he met her at five in the morning at the town livery.

It was still dark, but she had told the liveryman to expect them, and he had already saddled her horse. She was wearing a green riding outfit, a jacket and split skirt, and she looked elegant and lovely. The liveryman stood grinning stupidly at her, and Ben wondered whether she had that effect on all men. Hell, he'd thought himself immune to just about any woman alive, but she had him looking forward to every meeting, even a public one in a saloon. He felt like grinning stupidly himself.

It scared the hell out of him.

Especially since he knew she had knowledge of Sanctuary. He had come to believe that Gooden was probably an important piece in the Sanctuary puzzle. The fact that Diablo had disappeared from this town was not accidental. And it made sense. There was probably one town in each adjacent state or territory that was an entrance to Sanctuary. And the lack of law in Gooden made it a prime candidate.

He'd thought about it all night. He'd thought about Mary May and Kane O'Brien, and he wondered how the two interconnected. Perhaps Mary May would slip and tell him something useful.

“I wouldn't miss a chance of being with you all day for the world,” he told her with unaccustomed gallantry. She made him feel gallant.

She gave him a beguiling smile. “You may be sorry for that in the wee hours of tomorrow morning, Mr. Smith.”

He helped her mount, much to the disappointment of the liveryman. “I don't think so,” he said.

In minutes, he had saddled his own horse and was riding alongside her. Fall was approaching, and there was just the slightest chill in the air. The sky was clear, and the moon was only a sliver sinking close to the horizon. There were still a million stars in the sky.

Mary May set a good pace, and he enjoyed the quiet companionship as they passed through the town, then through the slightly rolling prairie. They stopped briefly at a creek as the sun started to show over the eastern horizon, showering streams of light across the grass, turning the dry spikes into a carpet of gold.

They dismounted and watered the horses, allowing them a few moments of rest. “Tell me about your daughter,” Ben asked.

She smiled, her eyes glowing, not beguilingly or with wit, but with a softness that went straight to Ben's heart. “Her name is Sarah Ann, and I love her more than life itself.”

“Why don't you raise her yourself?”

“As the daughter of a saloon hostess or worse? You know what kind of life she would have. Other children laughing at her, taunting. I want her to be a lady. A real lady.”

“Have you thought about leaving the Blazing Star?”

She shrugged. “What else would I do? I can entertain men. I can deal cards.” She looked away. “I could also marry. I know that. But the first time was a disaster. Besides, we get three kinds of men in the Blazing Star, and I wouldn't want any of them for Sarah Ann's father.”

“What are the three kinds?” he asked.

“The drinker, the gambler, and the bully.”

“Which of the three am I?” he asked, only a shade of humor in his voice.

She turned and stared at him. “You don't fit any of them, and that worries me.” Her gaze intensified.
“Why
are you here?”

“I told you I'm waiting for a friend.”

“Must be a good friend.”

“He saved my life.” Ben didn't add that O'Brien sure as hell didn't consider
him
a friend.

Mary May looked up at him, those bright green eyes meeting his directly. “Are you a lawman?”

He stood there, stunned. He thought about lying for about three seconds, but there was something about her that kept him from doing that. In the past few weeks, a kind of trust had developed between him and Mary May and he was damned if he could break it. She wouldn't betray him, not a man she was taking to meet her daughter. Not unless he was more wrong than he'd ever been in his life.

“Yes,” he said.

She drew a deep breath and expelled it slowly. “Why are you here?”

He shook his head. “I can't tell you that.”

“Something to do with Sanctuary,” she said, almost to herself. It wasn't even a question.

He didn't reply.

“Be careful,” she said, and he knew for certain, then, that she wouldn't betray him. She turned away from him and went to her horse. She didn't wait for him to help her, but swung into the saddle herself. He followed suit.

He moved his horse alongside hers. “Are you connected to Sanctuary?”

She didn't say anything for a few moments. Then, without looking at him, asked, “Is that why you came with me today?”

“No. I came because I wanted to come.”

“You're a different kind of law dog,” she observed with puzzlement in her voice.

He'd heard that expression before. It wasn't complimentary. He grinned suddenly. “I've been told that before.”

“Why?” She was looking at him now.

“I don't know,” he said. “Perhaps because I was once a lawyer. I was raised on the idea that there are many sides to any one question.”

“A lawyer?” she said with surprise. “Why …?”

He shrugged. “It seemed … too dull after the war. I couldn't seem to stay in an office.”

She shook her head. “I don't understand you.”

He grinned. “No one does, including my superiors.”

“You said you were waiting for a friend?”

His mouth suddenly tightened. He knew he had said too much already. But Mary May was so very good at listening.

“Will you tell me about your connection with Sanctuary?” he countered.

She stared at him, as if trying to decide whether she could trust him. The mutual knowledge that he had entrusted to her a secret that could get him killed hung between them.

Finally, she sighed. “Nothing much. I just pass on information. It helps pay for my daughter's care.”

“You don't know where it is?”

She hesitated, then evaded the question. “That kind of knowledge gets people killed.” She paused. “So do questions about it.”

“What if someone wants to go there? How can they tell the outlaws from the curious drifter?”

“They have their ways,” she said.

“How?” he asked.

She looked at him chidingly and spurred her horse into a canter, making any additional questions impossible. He smiled at her tactic. He'd already learned more from her than he thought possible, yet she'd very carefully skirted around the really vital information he needed.

Still, he knew he wouldn't get more. Not now. And it was a beautiful day, bright and clear. The sky was vividly blue and endless, the sun a glowing ball that bestowed a gentle warmth rather than parching heat. Despite the conversation, he felt an odd sense of well-being.

And the day had only begun.

Chapter Seventeen

After a long, frightening trek through a narrow, musty cave, Nicky quickly found the trail of Calico, Hildebrand, and Kane. She knew a little about tracking, had the map, and Calico had little reason to hide his trail on this end.

She doubted Hildebrand or Calico would make their move until night, when Kane was tired. She had to catch up to them before then.

Nicky knew there were Comanches in these parts who tolerated, and even protected, Sanctuary for a price. She had met some when they came into Sanctuary for food or liquor, and she had her talisman with her. But she didn't see another human being throughout the day, nor any sign of one, other than the horse tracks she followed.

She hurried the pace. She couldn't afford to lose them when it fell dark. Yet her quarry was moving fast, too. The droppings continued to be slightly baked by the late summer sun. She wondered whether she was close enough to hear gunshots, swallowing hard at the thought. She wasn't sure at all that she could handle this on her own.

Sometime around late morning, she'd had left the mountains and entered the plains. The terrain made following easy. Grass was bent, and the odor of horses was strong. Nicky knew Molly was tired. The mare was wheezing, but Nicky realized she couldn't stop. “A few more miles,” she whispered to the mare. “You have to keep going.”

The sky grew a deeper blue as dusk hurried along. The sun dipped, and the sky was suddenly painted with brilliant colors. Ordinarily, she would have enjoyed the scene, but at the moment she begrudged every slipping inch of the sun. There were more droppings ahead, and she slipped from the horse to test them. This time, they were slightly warm. Success battled apprehension. Another thirty minutes and she would barely be able to see anything, much less a trail. She dug her heels into Molly's back, whispering a slight apology.

Minutes later, it was dark, almost black. The stars were out, and the moon was rising in the east. Although she could see its full silhouette, only a tiny sliver gave light.

Molly stumbled, and Nicky dismounted. She would have to lead Molly from there. She didn't know what to do. She could no longer follow the tracks. Yet she couldn't stop. She had to warn Kane. Every step, though, only made her more aware of the hopelessness of her chase. She felt ridiculously foolish, riding alone in a territory she didn't know after three men who, among them, had been chased by more posses than she could possibly count.