“Do you think they’ll try to find a place to pull an ambush?” The Kid asked.
Diana shook her head. “Not now. Black Terence keeps his word . . . most of the time.”
The Kid glanced over at her and lifted an eyebrow.
Diana waved a hand and said, “I’ll explain on the way to Diamondback.”
“Diamondback?”
“The ranch my uncle and I own.”
“I was headed for Bristol, remember?”
Diana shook her head. “Not anymore. It won’t be safe for you. I’m pretty sure Malone has spies working for him in town. Anyway, there are a lot of alleys where bushwhackers could hide.”
“You don’t owe me anything, if that’s what you’re thinking,” The Kid told her.
Diana let out a snort. “Me owe you anything? It’s the other way around, Mr. Morgan. If I hadn’t been here, Malone and his men would have killed you. And it was your shot that drew them in the first place. When you saw the skull and crossbones, why didn’t you just turn around and ride away? Don’t you know what they mean?” She drew in a deep breath. “They mean death.”
The Kid wasn’t in any mood to argue with her. “I’ve seen plenty of it,” he said. “Let’s get your horse.”
“You’ll come to the ranch with me?”
The Kid shrugged. “Why not? The main thing I wanted was a chance to rest my buckskin. I reckon I can do that at your place as well as I can in town.”
“Better,” Diana said. “Our hands will take good care of your horse.”
They fetched her mount, a fine-looking chestnut, from the rocks where she had left it. She put her foot in the stirrup and stepped up into the saddle with a lithe grace that didn’t surprise The Kid. From everything he had seen so far, he guessed that she had been born and raised out here in West Texas. He knew a Western girl when he saw one. He had married one, in fact, and a pang went through him at the reminder of what he had lost. Months had passed since Rebel’s death, but he still reacted the same way every time he thought about her.
As they started along the trail, he kept his eyes peeled for any sign of trouble, just in case Diana was wrong about Malone and his men trying to ambush them. The range seemed peaceful enough, though.
“Where is this Diamondback ranch?” The Kid asked.
Diana pointed to the line of trees that marked the stream’s course. “Everything in the valley north of the Severn River is Diamondback range.”
“The Severn, eh?” That was the name of a river in England, he recalled, and Bristol, of course, was an English town. He wondered if that meant anything. He had been to England, and while Rattlesnake Valley certainly wasn’t as dry and barren as most of West Texas, it was still a far cry from the lush green English countryside.
Diana didn’t offer any explanations. She was watchful, too, as if she didn’t have complete confidence in her assurances that Malone wouldn’t attack them.
“Why the skull and crossbones?” The Kid asked after they had ridden a mile or so. “I know they put it on the labels of liquids that are poisonous, but I never saw anybody use it as a road marker before.”
“It’s the symbol from the pirate flag,” Diana said, telling The Kid something he already knew. “I suppose Malone thinks that it’s appropriate.”
“Appropriate?” The Kid repeated. He frowned over at her. “Are you telling me that—”
“Black Terence Malone is a pirate,” Diana said with a nod. “At least, he used to be, and just because he’s not on the high seas anymore, that doesn’t mean he’s any less of a brigand.”
PINNACLE BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2011 William W. Johnstone
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
Following the death of William W. Johnstone, the Johnstone family is working with a carefully selected writer to organize and complete Mr. Johnstone’s outlines and many unfinished manuscripts to create additional novels in all of his series like The Last Gunfighter, Mountain Man, and Eagles, among others. This novel was inspired by Mr. Johnstone’s superb storytelling.
If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
PINNACLE BOOKS and the Pinnacle logo are Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
The WWJ steer head logo is a trademark of Kensington Publishing Corp.
ISBN: 978-0-7860-2779-8
Notes
1
Published by Henry T. Williams, New York, 1876.
2
Slaughter of Eagles
MacAllister Page 27