Diablo

by Georgina Gentry

  For a long moment, no one made a sound. The acrid smell of the gun smoke drifted across the saloon and overpowered the scent of stale beer and cigars. There was a collective sigh from the crowd of men as Diablo holstered his gun, turned again, and went silently as a shadow out the side door.

  He heard the murmur of voices behind him. “You see that? God, he was fast! Brant had it coming, though.”

  Diablo mounted up and rode down the back alley, angrier than before. The killing had left a sour taste in his mouth; it had been so useless. More and more he was now challenged by young punks who wanted to be the Man Who Killed Diablo. Trace Durango had been right: once you started killing, there was no end to it.

  He passed the back door of a bordello. From inside came the sound of laughter and piano music. A whore with too much face paint and a skimpy red dress came out on the back porch and tried to light a cigarillo. She was so drunk she couldn’t manage it. He glanced at her and kept his face so that she could not see the scarred side.

  “Hey, fellow, you want a little fun?” She was more than drunk; she was hanging onto the porch post and swaying. Her hair war a strange blond color not her own, and her lip rouge was smeared across her face.

  He reined in, still angry and now aroused, thinking of the pale blond hair of Sunny and the intimate way his most bitter enemy had kissed the girl. Now his rage and passion combined. “Sure, why not?”

  He dismounted and tied his horse to the hitching rail, and now the woman gasped as she saw his ruined face. “Goddamn! You’re a monster!”

  He wanted to strike her, slam her hard against the peeling painted wall for all the hurts and insults he had endured in his life, but Diablo would never strike a woman. “I’ll pay double, you bitch.”

  “That’ll be a twenty-dollar gold piece then.” Her eyes were wide with distaste, and she smelled of liquor, dirt, and cheap perfume.

  It was highway robbery, but he didn’t care. He’d only had a couple of whores in his life and they’d all been drunk old broads that would ignore his ugly face.

  She took his hand, and he had to catch her elbow to keep her from falling. She led him through the door and up some rickety stairs that led up to her room. Diablo looked around. It was dim and dirty. He scowled with distaste.

  “Gimme the money first.”

  He tossed the gold piece on her nightstand.

  “God, you’re ugly!” She tittered and lay down on her back, yanking up her skimpy red skirt. She wore no drawers. “Get it over with.” She seemed to be gritting her teeth as she closed her eyes.

  Diablo started to unbutton his pants, staring down at her, and abruptly, his need left him. She was old and dirty, and she smelled bad. In his mind, he pictured Sunny, all clean and fresh and wanting him, really wanting him. And he would kiss her, and she would throw her arms around his neck and say, “I love you. I don’t care about your scarred face; I love you.”

  The whore opened one bloodshot eye. “Well? I ain’t got all day. Get it over with.”

  “I—I changed my mind.” He turned to go.

  “I ain’t givin’ your money back.” She sat up on the bed.

  Abruptly, he realized how pathetic they both were: a man desperate enough for a woman’s embrace that he would pay for it and a woman needing money bad enough to take on an ugly monster like himself. It made him very sad. “Never mind. You can keep the money.” He started to leave her room.

  “You loco, mister?” She got up off the dirty bed, swaying on her feet. “Or ain’t you a man?” she challenged. “Can’t you do it?”

  He wanted to strike her, but he only shrugged. “I changed my mind, that’s all.” And with that, he went out and down the stairs, the tinny piano playing in the background as he strode outside and mounted up, taking deep breaths of the fresh, clean air and feeling ashamed and sad for them both.

  As he rode out of town, he saw the latest edition of the newspaper being put out front of the little office and stopped to pick up one; then the shock of the headlines almost caused his vision to waver, although he was not drunk.

  LOVE OVERCOMES TRAGEDY, read the headline.

  Despite her father being recently murdered in the range war, Sunny Sorrenson has accepted the proposal of prominent local rancher, Hurd Kruger.

  Mr. Kruger said to this editor, “I know this is unusual, but I feel that Miss Sorrenson needs my protection and can’t run her ranch alone. Of course I will continue to hunt down her father’s killer and bring justice to this county. In the meantime, the wedding will be a tasteful affair, and all the town is invited.”

  Diablo couldn’t read any further without crumpling the paper in his fist. So she was going to end up in the bed of his worst enemy. And now he hated the blond beauty as he hated her fiancé and he would wreck havoc on her as well. As he rode out of town, Diablo vowed this wedding would never take place—because he was going to murder the groom.

  Chapter 8

  The next afternoon, Diablo rode to a cliff overlooking Kruger’s ranch, Wolf at his side. On the bluff behind it, he could see carpenters hard at work. The framework of the fine home was expanding on the hill.

  Even as he watched, Sunny and Kruger drove up to the site in a buggy, and Kruger helped her down. Then he got out a set of plans and spread them on a rock, showing them to the girl as he pointed out the features of the fine new home.

  Seeing Kruger smile made Diablo grind his teeth as he patted the dog. Of course the rich bastard was happy. Soon he would be bedding the most beautiful girl Diablo had ever seen. The thought that she would make love to her father’s killer made him shake his head in disbelief. Of course she might not know that Kruger was the killer, and there was no way to let her know. She certainly wouldn’t believe Diablo if he told her.

  He remembered the whore and the way she had withdrawn from him in horror and distaste. His eyes watered, and he blinked rapidly. Even if Sunny knew the truth, would she pass up a chance to marry the biggest, most powerful rancher in the county? Like most women, she was probably greedy for fine dresses and trinkets. Well, Diablo would make her a widow before she was ever a wife.

  The sun set all gold and red in the west as Diablo watched the pair get in their buggy and drive back down the road to Kruger’s ranch. Now the workmen began putting away their tools and leaving. The wooden skeleton of the fine new house was silhouetted against the pink evening sky as they all left. It looked like the bare bones of a giant carcass as the light faded behind it.

  Sunny would never be bedded in this fine new house, Diablo promised himself. This mansion was one more thing that Diablo would take from Kruger. He would take everything the man held dear, and then he would take the girl. Diablo smiled to himself at the thought. When he took her, he could make love to her as he had dreamed of doing, and she would be helpless to protest because she would be in his power.

  Late that night, Diablo rode up the hill to the frame of the new house, dismounted, and splashed kerosene around on the lumber as his horse and dog watched. He mounted up and tossed a match into the piles of wood. Then he rode back to another bluff where he could watch the red fingers of flames reaching higher and higher. He grinned, but it was not because he saw anything funny. He was imagining Kruger’s shocked face when he saw the burned skeleton of his fine, new house still smoldering and in ruins in the morning.

  The smell woke Sunny up, and she blinked, puzzled and wondering what had awakened her. Then she took a deep breath and realized it was smoke. The ranch house must be on fire. She ran out into the hall, forgetting her slippers and robe as she looked around. Then she saw the scarlet reflection on a nearby window glass and peered out. In the distance, she saw the flames devouring the skeleton of the new house on the hill. She hurried for the outside door shouting, “Fire! The new house is on fire!”

  She ran out into the moonlight, the slight wind whipping her sheer nightdress around her slender legs. “Fire! Fire!”

  From his high spot, Diablo watched her, the moonlight highlighting her
pale hair, the breeze pinning her sheer blue nightgown against her full soft curves. She had never looked so vulnerable and desirable as she did right now. He wanted to ride down there and sweep her up, carry her off to his blanket to kiss her, and tangle his fingers in that soft, long hair.

  Even as he thought that, Kruger came stumbling out of the ranch house, looking confused and sleepy. He stared and blinked as if he could not believe what he was seeing. Then fury contorted his heavy jowls, and he began to run about shouting orders and cursing. Diablo smiled and watched sleepy cowboys tumbling out of the bunkhouse, confused and trying to organize a fire brigade.

  “Goddamn it!” Kruger roared. “Put that fire out! Who in the hell . . . ?”

  Joe ran up to him, and Kruger growled something. The cowboys were grabbing buckets and pumping water like crazy, trying to get a wagonload of buckets and start up the road. They must have known they had no chance of putting it out, but Kruger’s shouts and curses spurred them on. They got one wagon hitched up and loaded with buckets of water, then took it up the road. The moon showed that the jolting wagon was spilling much of it as they tried to get to the fire. The little bit they got up the hill with them didn’t seem to make any dent in the roaring blaze, Diablo noted. People were running and shouting, but everyone seemed powerless to do anything to really quench the flames. After a while, even Kruger seemed to realize that. He stood with shoulders slumped, watching his new mansion burn; then he limped back down to where Sunny still stood in her nightdress, staring up at the fire. They both stood there a long time, watching the fire burn. Then Kruger took her hand and led her back inside. He walked like a frustrated, defeated man.

  Diablo, on the other hand, kept his post until the big house was only a pile of glowing embers. He was almost satisfied. He had taken almost everything that Kruger valued: his horse, his dog, his fine rifle, his new house. There were only two things left to take: the woman Kruger loved and, finally, Kruger’s life.

  Diablo was looking forward to taking the girl. He would make Kruger suffer the misery of the damned before he finally killed him. Now he need only wait for his chance to kidnap Sunny.

  Kruger sulked and thought for several days, barely speaking to anyone, including Sunny. At first he thought the workmen had been careless; then he found the empty kerosene can. It seemed as though the last remaining nesters had spit in his face by burning down his new mansion.

  “I’ll build it bigger and better,” he promised Sunny as his mood lightened. “I’ll send back east for stained-glass windows and some of those fancy Tiffany lights.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Sunny shrugged as they sat at breakfast. She was still grieving the loss of her father and not at all looking forward to her upcoming marriage.

  Kruger smiled as he looked across the table at her and beckoned for Maria to pour more coffee. He couldn’t believe his own good luck. He was going to marry the most beautiful, desirable woman in the whole state, and with the demise of the nesters, he would soon own most of the county. He and Sunny would have sons to inherit his empire, so his life would be complete. True, he had killed his best friend to own her, but he loved her more than life itself and nothing meant as much to him as possessing her. The thought that she would soon be in his bed, his to make love to every night, made his heart race.

  “Are you all right, Uncle—I mean Hurd?” she asked, picking at her omelet.

  “Yes, my love.” He reached across and took her hand. “Remind me to buy you the finest weddin’ ring money can buy.”

  She looked at him, a potbellied, middle-aged man with dyed-black hair and a habit of sucking his teeth that drove her crazy. Then reminded herself that he had been her father’s best friend and Swen’s dying wish had been that she marry this man. He would take good care of her, of course, but what she yearned for was a handsome prince on a big stallion who would carry her away. “It doesn’t matter,” she sighed, sipping her coffee. “A plain gold band will do.”

  “Honestly, Sunny, I do wish you would be more enthused. Half the county is comin’ to the ceremony.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m still thinking about my father.”

  “Oh, yes. I’m so sorry I didn’t understand.” He patted her hand and gave her an adoring smile. Nothing else mattered to him if he could marry this beauty. “I’ve called a meeting of the Stock Growers Association,” he said. “We’re meeting at the Browns’ ranch. It won’t interest the ladies. Maybe you’d like to go into town shopping instead. Shouldn’t your dress be ready by now?”

  “Oh, yes.” She started as though she had not given their marriage a thought. “I suppose it is ready to be picked up.”

  “That would be a fun trip to town for you,” he said, pushing back from the table. “I’ll get Joe to drive you into town, and while you’re there, look around in the shops. Anything you want, you just have them put it on my bill. Nothing is too good for the future Mrs. Kruger.”

  She smiled. “Thank you, Hurd. You are too good to me.”

  “Then how about a kiss for the groom?” He leaned over and gave her a wet kiss on the lips before she could turn her head away. “I’ll be back late, but I’ll tell Joe to hitch up the buggy.”

  “All right.” She didn’t look all that happy about a trip to town.

  When Hurd left the ranch, however, he didn’t go right to the Brown ranch. Something had been bothering him, something Swen had said about having money hidden to send Sunny away to school. He thought Swen might have been bluffing, but he needed to make sure. He rode to the Sorrenson ranch and made sure no one was around; then he began to dig through trunks and drawers. He took the place apart one room at a time but found nothing.

  Diablo had watched from his hilltop as Kruger left the ranch and, out of curiosity, had followed him. Now he sat up on a ridge and viewed the small ranch house as Kruger entered, wondering what the man was looking for. Surely it wasn’t the small picture of Sunny that Diablo had taken?

  After a while, Kruger came out, looking satisfied, mounted up, and rode away north.

  Diablo watched until the rancher was out of sight; then he and his dog crept down the hill and entered the old cabin. Things were strewn everywhere, drawers pulled out, books tumbled off shelves. Whatever Kruger had been looking for, had he found it?

  Still mystified, Diablo went back for his horse and rode to Kruger’s ranch. Kruger had ridden north, so that meant he wasn’t headed home. This might be a good time to kidnap the girl.

  As he watched, Joe drove the buggy out of the barn and around to the front door. Then Sunny came out. She wore a black dress of mourning and a shawl pulled around her blond hair so that her face was difficult to see. Joe helped her up into the buggy and got in himself. Then the buggy started at a leisurely pace toward town. Diablo followed along at a safe distance, his dog trailing after him. He would never get a better chance to take the girl. He was not sure what he would do with her. He only knew that kidnapping Sunny would throw his enemy into a frenzy and that was what mattered to Diablo.

  He followed along behind them on the long dusty road into Krugerville. Then from a rise, he watched Joe tie up at the hitching rail before the general store. He helped the lady down and escorted her into the dress shop next door. When she disappeared inside, Joe headed for the saloon.

  Sunny tried to paste a smile on her face as she entered the dress shop. Young Ellen West was at the counter, and her mother came out of the back room at the tinkling of the bell on the door.

  Ellen, who was too thin and not quite pretty, walked around the counter. “Well, you’re looking good, Miss Sunny.”

  Sunny tried to smile. “As well as can be expected, I suppose.”

  She tensed as the buxom older woman rushed forward to hug her.

  “There, there now. That’s all in the past, and it’s a small cloud that don’t bring someone some blessings. After all, you are about to marry the richest man in the county.” There was a bit of envy in Mrs. West’s voice.

  “Now, Mother,” Ellen
rushed to say, “I only went to a barn dance with Mr. Kruger once. He was never really interested in me. Why, everyone knows he’s always had an eye for Sunny.”

  Sunny didn’t even want to discuss that. “I know it must seem unusual to rush into marriage like this, right after my father’s death, but Hurd—”

  “Well, he’s right!” Mrs. West put her hands on her generous hips. “You can’t live on your own ranch alone, and it don’t look right, an unmarried girl living under Kruger’s roof. People might talk.”

  Sunny bit her lip. “Actually, Ellen, I came by to ask if you would be my maid of honor.”

  “I’d be delighted.” Ellen’s plain face lit up, and even Mrs. West’s dour countenance smiled.

  “Well, now,” the older lady said, “this is an honor, and I reckon there’ll be a lot of eligible young men there. Maybe Ellen will find a husband.”

  “Mother!”

  Sunny took out a hankie and coughed slightly. “Excuse me, I may be coming down with a cold.”

  “Ah now,” Mrs. West took her by the arm and led her to a chair. “What you need is a little nip of sherry. It is a mite chilly out there today.”

  She didn’t want any sherry, but she was never one to assert herself. “About the wedding, it will be an informal affair,” she said as Mrs. West hurried to get the decanter and three glasses.

  Mrs. West poured two small ones and a large one for herself. “Considering the circumstances, we all know that’s proper, even though he is a very rich man.”

  Sunny tasted her drink. “He says next year, when things have settled down, he’ll throw the biggest first anniversary party the county has ever seen.”