Diablo

by Georgina Gentry

  “I knew you been wanting her.” Swen shook his head and stood up. “No, I can’t give my permission. You’re old enough to be her father.”

  “You think I been helpin’ you all these years outta the goodness of my heart?” Kruger stood up too, blew a cloud of angry smoke. “I been watchin’ her for years, waiting for her to grow up. Why don’t we ask Sunny what she thinks?”

  “I tell you no, Hurd.” Swen’s face turned dark red. “I won’t stand for it, I tell you, and we don’t have to ask Sunny. You know she’s an obedient girl, always does as she’s told. She’s going back to Boston, and that’s the end of it.”

  “Not quite, you stubborn old bastard.” Kruger snarled, and before Diablo or the old man could react, Kruger pulled out his Colt and fired, hitting the old man in the chest.

  Swen staggered, surprise on his weathered face; then he tumbled and dropped his pipe. It clattered against the floor as he went down.

  Outside, Diablo drew his pistol. Fury overcame him. He would kill Kruger now, although this wasn’t the way he’d meant to do it.

  The thunder of hooves in the distance grew louder. They must have heard the gunshot. Even as Diablo hesitated, trying to decide what to do, Kruger ran out into the front yard waving his arms and shouting. “Hear that shot, men? Some damned nesters shot Swen, and I got here just in time to see them ride away! Go after them, boys! I’ll ride and tell poor Miss Sunny what’s happened!”

  Diablo looked through the window, his vision blurring. Swen was dead; there was no doubt about it. The old man had tried to help him that long-ago day, and Diablo had come to express his gratitude. Now it was too late, forever too late. Diablo was so angry his hands shook, but he would have to wait. He would make Kruger pay even more when the time came.

  In the confusion of cowboys coming into the house and others taking off on a wild goose chase after the phantom killers, Diablo and his dog slipped silently away back to his horse. He watched a long moment from the hill, and then he rode back to his camp to think. Kruger had thrown a rock in his plans, and now Diablo wasn’t certain what to do.

  He took out the small photo of Sunny and stared at it. So the beauty was Swen’s daughter, and now Kruger planned to marry her. Would she be tempted by all the wealth and land? Diablo must tell her about the killing. He half rose, then sat back down to brood. She certainly wouldn’t believe the gunfighter. How could he even explain to her what he’d been doing at her house? No, he couldn’t tell her, and now he could only wait to see if she was selfish and greedy enough to marry her father’s killer. That would tell Diablo what he needed to do next.

  Kruger was shaking as he mounted up and rode for the Brown’s ranch. Behind him, his cowboys were galloping away to look for the killers of Swen Sorrenson. Hell, he hadn’t meant to kill the old man, but his anger had made him lose control. He’d always thought that Swen knew he intended to marry Sunny and was okay with the idea. Well, this would work out just fine. Swen was popular in the county, and a lot of ranchers who hadn’t been in favor of running the farmers out would be in favor now. It would all work to Kruger’s advantage. And as for the blond beauty, her father was right; she was shy and obedient. She’d marry Kruger without asking any questions. He licked his lips, thinking about the voluptuous girl naked in his bed. He’d be the envy of every man in Wyoming and the richest one, too. He and Sunny would have a dozen sons to continue this empire he’d been building. Losing his dog and gun were minor things right now. Kruger grinned all the way to the Browns’ ranch.

  He galloped his sorrel to the ranch, swung down. “Hello the house! Anyone home?”

  Young, lanky Brown came out the front door as Kruger tied up. “What’s going on, Hurd? You come to see the new baby boy?”

  Kruger put on a sad face and took off his Stetson. “I—I got bad news. Is Miss Sunny here?”

  “Sure, she’s helping with the baby. Come on in.”

  Kruger went inside, keeping a sad face and fumbling with the brim of his Stetson. Sunny came out of the bedroom, carrying a whimpering bundle. In another year, that will be our baby she’s holding, Kruger thought.

  “Why, Uncle Hurd, what’s wrong?”

  He gestured to one of the plump neighbor women to take the baby. “Sit down, Sunny; it’s bad news.”

  Sunny’s pretty face paled as she handed the baby over and sat down, leaning forward. “What—what is it? Has something happened at the ranch? Has something—”

  “Oh, my God,” Kruger took out his bandanna and wiped his eyes. “I—I just don’t know how to tell you, Sunny, the news is so bad. It’s Swen.” He managed a fake sob.

  Now her face turned ashen. “Dad? Something happened to Dad? I must get back to the ranch, I must—”

  “He’s dead, Sunny.” Kruger shook his head. “Them nesters ambushed him.”

  “Dead?” For a moment she blinked in disbelief, then began to sob uncontrollably. “No, it can’t be true!”

  “I’m so sorry, my dear.”

  She collapsed against him and he put his arm around her small shoulders. “Oh, I can’t believe it.”

  The neighboring women whispered in hushed tones among themselves. “And we thought most of them was good people.”

  “Yep, them rotten farmers,” Kruger growled. “There ain’t nothin’ too low for them to do.”

  “But why?” Sunny sobbed and sobbed while Kruger hugged her to him. “Dad had always gotten along well with the nesters.”

  “Just goes to show you how bad they are. Don’t worry, dear,” Kruger patted her shoulder, “I’ll take care of you and the ranch. Everything will be all right.”

  “How can it be with Dad dead?” she sobbed. “Oh, I just don’t know what to do.”

  “I’ll take care of everything,” Kruger assured her. “You don’t have to worry, Sunny, and the faster we get those clodhoppers out of the county, the better off we’ll all be.” He held her close and smiled to himself. Yes, things were working out fine for him. The ranchers and gunfighters were all out of jail and likely wouldn’t be charged, so the fight could continue. As soon as this was over, he was going to marry the most beautiful girl in the county and she’d be an obedient wife. Now all he had to do was bury Swen and finish this range war.

  It all seemed so unreal to Sunny. She let herself be led to a buggy and driven to Kruger’s big house. She was too numb to think or feel anything but crushing grief. Her father had been her whole life. She had never made an independent decision or had any responsibility. Dad had wanted it that way.

  Soon they brought Swen’s body in a wooden coffin on an old creaky wagon with all his cowboys following along behind.

  Zeke, his foreman, wiped his red eyes as she came out to meet the wagon. “Oh, Miss Sunny, it’s just terrible. Here we been so good to them nesters, and now they reward old Swen by killin’ him in cold blood.”

  “Are you sure that’s who did it?” she asked.

  “Of course, my dear.” Kruger came out on the porch and put his arm around her shoulders. “Who else could it be?” He turned to Swen’s cowhands. “Yes, it is terrible, boys. Now after the funeral, will you ranchers help us chase them damned farmers out of the county?”

  The angry cowboys shouted in unison and waved their fists in the air. “We will! We’ll get them killers.”

  “I—I don’t think that’s what Dad would have wanted,” Sunny whispered, but she was drowned out by the big rancher. “Oh, of course it is, Sunny. Now someone ride to let the folks in Krugerville know what’s happened. We’ll have the funeral in the morning, and then we’ll show them nesters they can’t get away with killin’ a good man like this one.”

  Sunny suddenly felt faint at the possibility of even more bloodshed, and she swayed a little. “If—if you don’t mind, Uncle Hurd, I’d like to see my father and then pick a few flowers for the coffin.”

  “Of course, my dear.” Very gently, he turned loose of her and gestured to the cowboys. “Bring the coffin into the parlor, boys, and we’ll set it up f
or the viewing.”

  Sunny sobbed as she followed the coffin into the house. They set it up on two chairs and took off the lid.

  Biting her lip, she approached the coffin as the cowboys took off their hats and stepped back respectfully. Her eyes brimmed with tears as she took a step. Swen looked so old and pale. Very gently, she brushed his sparse, pale hair from his forehead and then began to sob. “I just can’t believe anyone would do this!”

  Hurd stepped forward and put his arm around her shoulders. “There, there, Sunny. I’ll take care of everything. You just don’t worry. Let me and the men make all the decisions now.”

  She realized she had never made an important decision or taken a stand on anything in her whole life. She really wanted to take Dad back to the ranch and bury him there, not stay in Uncle Hurd’s house and bury Dad in the town cemetery. However she didn’t argue. “Whatever you say, Uncle Hurd. I’d like to be alone. I think I’ll pick a few flowers outside. Dad did love wildflowers.”

  “Of course, my dear, whatever you wish.” He turned to the men. “Everything stops until after the funeral tomorrow; then we’ll deal with these damned murderin’ nesters.”

  She went outside to pick wildflowers and sat down on a rock and wept and wept. What would she do now? Where would she go? She was faced with big decisions and had no idea what to do next. They owned a few cattle and a mortgaged ranch, some average horses, and the dun mare and filly—not much to show for all these years of hard, back-breaking work. Uncle Hurd would know what to do, and he had been Dad’s best friend. She could trust him to look out for her. Yes, she would let him take the responsibility.

  Diablo and his dog watched from a hilltop as the early morning funeral procession wound its long way down the dusty road from the K Bar to the little cemetery at the edge of town. The black hearse, drawn by two black horses, came behind a fancy buggy. A group of people, old and young, walked behind the hearse.

  Wolf’s ears went up, and he growled. Diablo patted him.

  “Be quiet, boy. We don’t want them to notice us.”

  For the first time in his life, he felt a great sadness. He had been too caught up in his vengeance to really thank Swen for what he’d tried to do that long-ago day, and now it was too late.

  The procession stopped, and six cowboys carried the wooden coffin to the freshly dug hole among the tombstones and set it on the ground. People began to gather around.

  As Diablo watched, Kruger, in a fine suit, stepped out of the buggy and helped Sunny down. She wore a black dress and a hat with a long black veil that blew around her pale face. She looked so vulnerable and dazed as Kruger took her arm and led her to the grave side.

  The pastor began to speak. Diablo could only catch a word now and then. The breeze picked up and blew Sunny’s light hair and black veil about her reddened eyes. It stirred the bright wildflowers on the coffin.

  Now a little choir of ladies began to sing. They were a little off-key but trying valiantly as the wind picked up.

  “Shall we gather at the river, the beautiful, beautiful river, shall we gather at the river . . .”

  Diablo’s eyes abruptly grew blurry, and he cleared his throat. But he gritted his teeth as he noted how Sunny leaned on Kruger’s arm. Damn her. She was greedy and ready to go along with anything her father’s killer wanted. She’d never believe Diablo if he told her the truth.

  Now they were lowering the coffin and filling the grave. People were tossing in clods of dirt. The big rancher was leading Sunny forward to throw in a handful of dirt. She looked so frail and helpless that Diablo almost felt sorry for her; then he hardened his heart. She was more like Kruger than her father, and if she married that rancher, Diablo would soon make her a widow.

  Kruger led Sunny back to the buggy and patted her hand, helped her in. Then the whole procession drove away, winding like a black ribbon away from the graveyard. After a while, there was nothing but the tombstones and the fresh dirt on the new grave and the wind blowing dust about.

  Diablo waited for a time, and then he rode down to the grave site and dismounted. The place was silent except for a meadowlark. The wildflowers were already wilting on the grave.

  “Well, old man,” he took off his black Stetson and knelt on one knee, “I never got a real chance to thank you, but I’ll get revenge for you, too. I don’t know what your daughter is made of, but I’m afraid she’s not like you. You didn’t want her to marry Kruger, and I’ll see that she doesn’t. Or at least, I’ll make her a very rich widow, and she can do what she wants with all the land and money.”

  Having made that silent vow, Diablo mounted up and rode back to his camp, the dog following along behind.

  Back at Kruger’s ranch, Sunny sat in a chair in the parlor, a plate of uneaten food in her hand as people hovered over her, offering their condolences. “We are so sorry, Miss Sunny. What will you do now?”

  “I—I don’t know.” And she really didn’t. She was a doormat, she thought, always letting men decide for her. Well, it was mostly the way of frontier women.

  “My,” said the plump pastor, shaking her hand, “Mr. Kruger has been so nice to step in, hasn’t he?”

  Everyone in the parlor murmured assent.

  “Yes, he has,” she nodded. “I don’t know what I would have done without him.”

  Uncle Hurd stepped up, his face sorrowful. “Oh, I’m just trying to be a good neighbor. You know, Swen and I were best friends.”

  “Yes, thank you, Uncle Hurd.” She looked up at him and blinked away tears.

  In the background, she heard women wondering what would become of her and others commenting that she couldn’t possibly run the ranch alone.

  She couldn’t think past today. All she could do was sit there numbly and let people shake her hand and tell her how sorry they were. After what seemed like an eternity, they all went away, and Uncle Hurd came over and sat down next to her. “Why don’t you eat something, my dear?”

  “I—I don’t think I can.” But obediently she took a forkful of roast beef. “Uncle Hurd, do you know anyone who had a grudge against my father?”

  “Of course not.” He patted her hand, his mind evidently on something else.

  “Well, there was a man in town, one of your Texas gunfighters, I think. He had a scarred face—”

  “Yes, yes, Sunny, dear.” He seemed to brush her words aside, not really listening. “I know this is not the time or place, but you’ve got decisions to make.”

  She began to cry. “Not yet. I—I don’t know what to do.”

  He took out his handkerchief and wiped her eyes.

  “There, there, dear, everything will be okay.”

  “I don’t think anything will ever be okay again.”

  “There’s something I haven’t told you, Sunny, dear.” He took her hand in both of his. “You know, I was the one who heard the shot and rode up to your house as some of those killers were escapin’.”

  “Why didn’t you try to stop them?”

  He blinked, evidently caught off guard. “Why, I was more worried about Swen. I rushed in and found him lying in a pool of blood and knew he was dyin’.”

  “Did he say anything?”

  “Matter of fact, he did.” Hurd looked sorrowful. “I took him in my arms and said, ‘old friend, is there anything I can do? Anything at all?’”

  “Yes?”

  “He was breathin’ his last, but he took my hand and he said, ‘Hurd, you are my best friend. Marry Sunny and look after her. Please promise you will.’ And I promised solemnly. Then he died in my arms.”

  “Dad said that?” She was surprised. “Why Uncle Hurd, I hadn’t thought about marriage. Dad had something about me going to college—”

  “Of course that was a pipe dream.” His voice was kindly as he patted her hand. “He always talked about putting money away for you, but I know he hadn’t an extra penny. You know the ranch hasn’t done well in years. I’ve been loanin’ him money.”

  “Oh.” She didn’t say
anything else. Marry Uncle Hurd? Why he was at least twice her age. She thought about getting in bed with him and almost shuddered. But if that was Dad’s dying wish . . .

  “And just think, Sunny, you’d be married to the biggest rancher in the county. You could have anything you want. Why, I’ve already drawn up plans for a new big house up on the bluff and now you’d be able to pick out all the furniture and carpets. Imagine going to New York to buy wallpaper and drapes. Oh, it would be the finest home in Wyoming on the biggest ranch.”

  The fine home and the giant ranch interested her not at all. “You know, Uncle Hurd, I don’t love you in that way.”

  He got down on one knee. “But you could learn to love me, dear. Oh, you might never love me like I love you.” He kissed her hand. “I worship you, I always have. Nothing in my empire matters as much as havin’ you for my wife.”

  “If you’re sure that’s what Dad wanted—” she began uncertainly.

  “Oh, he made me promise!” Kruger took both her hands in his. “Swen would be so happy that I was lookin’ after you.”

  Everything in her wanted to shout no, but she was an obedient, dutiful daughter. She couldn’t turn her back on her father’s dying wish. “All right, then. I’ll marry you.”

  He grabbed her and tried to kiss her but she turned her head slightly so that he kissed her cheek. It felt wet and sloppy, and she tried not to shudder. “You’ve made me the happiest man in the world. Oh, you won’t be sorry, Sunny.”

  She was already sorry, but she didn’t answer. If this was what Dad wanted, she would marry this potbellied, balding man with the dyed black, black hair. She didn’t even want to think about their wedding night, but she began crying anyway and couldn’t stop.

  Hurd comforted her and told her she mustn’t weep over her dead father. As her husband, he would take care of everything.

  Chapter 7

  Diablo kept a watch on Kruger’s ranch, and one night when things were quiet, he tied up his bay horse in the brush and told Wolf to stay. The dog lay down obediently. Then Diablo sneaked down to the corral where the big stallion was kept. The moon came out and silhouetted the black stallion as it moved restlessly about its pen, laying its ears back and rolling its eyes wildly.