“That will be nice,” Ellen said, sipping her sherry.
“Ah,” nodded her mother, taking a big gulp, “after all the unrest and these nesters causing so much trouble, it should be peaceful by then. Now if we can just get the army to clear out of town and leave us alone.”
Sunny fiddled with the drink in her hand. She was feeling too warm and not well at all.
“Oh, yes, forgive me,” declared Mrs. West, as she put her drink down, “you came to pick up your dress.”
“Yes,” Sunny said and put her sherry on a nearby table.
“It’s glorious, even if it is black,” the buxom lady declared. “Too bad it couldn’t be white like Queen Victoria’s, but after all, you are still in mourning.”
“Mother, must you be so blunt?” Ellen made a face.
“I didn’t mean anything by it.” Her mother disappeared into the back room and came out with the dress carried across both plump arms. “Ellen stayed up half the night sewing the lace on. Why, there are twenty yards of the best black silk money can buy. No one else has been able to afford such goods. Be sure to tell everyone where you got it.”
Ellen scowled at her mother again, and Sunny rushed to stop the confrontation by standing up. “Why, it’s lovely!” She ran her hand over the dress. It was magnificent.
“You should try it on,” Mrs. West suggested, “in case it needs alteration.”
She didn’t feel like trying it on, but she nodded. “Of course.”
Ellen said, “I’ll help you.” She took the dress from her mother, led Sunny to the back room.
“Oh,” called her mother, “and we took the liberty of making white lace drawers and a bust improver with little pink ribbons. That should make Mr. Kruger very happy.” She giggled, and inside the dressing room, Ellen rolled her eyes.
“You’ll have to forgive her, Sunny. This is the biggest news in this county’s history. The newspaper’s out, and the ladies can talk of nothing else.”
“That’s all right,” Sunny said listlessly as she took off her plain black cotton and put on the elegant black silk. “My, this is beautiful.”
“I’m glad you like it,” Ellen said wistfully, adjusting the bodice. She put a long, black sheer veil on Sunny’s pale hair. “Now go out and look in the big mirror out front.”
Sunny sneezed.
“Bless you,” Ellen said.
“I’m sorry; I’m afraid I’m coming down with something.”
“Well, let’s hope you’re well for the wedding. It’s next Saturday night, isn’t it?”
Sunny nodded as she went out into the front room and looked at herself in the full-length mirror. It was a gorgeous dress that fit her beautifully with a small waist and a tiny bustle. The black lace of the top fitted around her shoulders, leaving a wide expanse of bosom. The veil was made of some filmy, sheer ebony lace.
“Of course you know Mr. Kruger ordered some very fine jet jewelry from back east. It had to be rushed to get here.” Mrs. West went behind the counter and got out the earrings and necklace. “They say Queen Victoria herself has a set like this. It’s become all the rage back east, I hear.”
She put the necklace around Sunny’s neck. “My goodness, my dear, you feel like you might have a fever.”
“I’ll be fine,” Sunny brushed her off and went to survey herself in the mirror again. A couple passing by on the street paused to look and smiled at her, nodding their approval. “I suppose I can take it off and you can box it up now. Joe will be wanting to drive me home before it gets dark.”
“Yes,” Ellen said, “it’s clouding up like it might rain.”
From his hilltop, Diablo could see the girl standing before the mirror in the fine black dress and sheer veil. She wore a necklace of black beads around her slender pale neck. Sunny had never looked so desirable, and for that Diablo hated her. He did not want to get emotionally involved with this girl; she was only part of his revenge.
Diablo watched and waited as she disappeared from view, absently patting Wolf and sucking on an unlit cigarillo. After a while, she came out of the shop with a big box and the woman who worked there, carrying her purchases. They put everything in the back of the buggy, and they exchanged a few words. Then Sunny went next door to the general store.
No doubt she was shopping for her wedding, Diablo thought in anger. She must be like most women—money meant everything to them.
Diablo noted the sun low in the sky. If the pair didn’t head back to the ranch soon, they might get caught out on the road at dusk, and it was clouding up.
Finally Joe walked out of the saloon and went to stand in front of a shop. Sunny came out then with packages, and Joe tipped his Stetson, took the things, and put them in the back of the buggy. Then he helped Sunny up into the buggy, and they started at a nice trot back down the road toward the ranch in the coming darkness.
Diablo followed along the ridge line, keeping the buggy barely in sight. There was a shadowy curve in the road up ahead that he remembered. There, he thought, was the perfect place for an ambush. He would take the girl and hold her for ransom or use her to lure Kruger in his death.
Now he came down the ridge line, following closer to the buggy, Wolf trotting silently behind his horse. He wasn’t certain he would kill Joe right now. He needed someone to carry a message to Kruger.
Sunny sighed as they drove along. She didn’t feel very well, and the wind picked up abruptly and smelled of rain. She tried to make conversation with Joe, but he’d had a few drinks and wasn’t in a talkative mood. A drop of rain spattered on the buggy and thunder rumbled in the distance.
“Reckon we’d better hurry,” Joe mumbled. “Boss won’t like it if you get wet.”
“Well, I do feel bad,” she admitted and wiped her nose. She paused now, listening. “Did you hear that?”
“Did I hear what?” Joe sounded peevish and hungover.
“Oh, nothing I guess. I thought I heard a horse.”
“Of course you heard a horse.” He gestured toward the bay pulling the buggy.
“No, I meant, maybe following us. Oh, never mind.” She felt like a fool. In truth, she wasn’t eager to get back to the ranch to face more of Hurd’s adoring stares and wet kisses. She was also annoyed with herself that she had taken him at his word and bought a bunch of things in town. Not that she cared about any of it—she’d only been prolonging the shopping trip and avoiding returning to the ranch.
“I reckon we’re gonna be late gettin’ home,” Joe grumbled, “or we’re gonna get caught out on the road after dark and in a spring storm. Hurd will have my head. He can get really mad.”
“I’ll tell him it was my fault. I shopped too long.”
“Yeah, but he’ll hold me responsible. You can’t do anything wrong. He adores you, you know.” Maybe that should have made her feel good, but it didn’t. She was already beginning to feel like a small animal in the trap of Hurd’s obsession.
“You know,” she turned in her seat and looked behind them in the growing dusk. “I swear I hear a horse coming. Maybe you should speed up a little, Joe.”
He whipped up the horse, grumbling under his breath about nervous women.
It was dark as ink with the coming storm. Diablo cantering along behind, saw the girl turn in her seat and look back and then Joe picked up the pace a little. The buggy was barely visible, and the few raindrops began a sprinkle.
Diablo smiled without mirth as he spurred his horse. He had taken or destroyed almost everything that meant anything to Hurd Kruger, and now he would take the thing the man valued most: his beautiful bride.
He spurred his horse, easily overtaking the buggy. Joe looked back, alarm on his weasel face, as Diablo rode up next to them. The girl stared up at him, her pale blue eyes bright in her pale face. Fear and surprise were etched there.
“Stop this buggy! This is a holdup!”
The girl screamed, and Diablo’s black stallion reared, neighing. Joe grabbed for his Colt, but he was drunk and clumsy and Diablo s
hot it from his hand. The buggy horse came to an abrupt stop, and packages and boxes from the back flew everywhere, dumping the contents on the road.
Diablo reached for the girl, who seemed paralyzed with fear as she stared up at his disfigured face. Cursing and crying, Joe clambered down as Diablo grabbed for Sunny.
Joe cut the buggy traces and jumped on the bay, whipping it with a cut rein as he took off down the road, abandoning her to her fate. Diablo reached for her and swung her up to his saddle even as she screamed and struggled. Her skin felt warm and very soft, and it excited him.
The big box had fallen into the road and spilled its contents, a sumptuous tumble of black lace and silk. Diablo held onto the struggling girl easily, grinning as he deliberately whirled his stallion so that it trampled the fine dress into the dirt of the road. This was one dress she would never wear. He turned his stallion, and with Wolf running along beside, he vanished into the trees lining the road while the girl cried and trembled in his arms.
“I—I have money!” she cried, “I’ll give you money!”
“I don’t want money.” He almost whispered it, as he took off at a gallop with his captive in his arms. “I got what I want. I want you!” he shouted triumphantly, then spurred his horse and took off through the darkness of the night.
Sunny had never felt such terror as she did now, cradled in some robber’s strong arms and held tightly as they galloped through the night. Joe had abandoned her. No, maybe he was going for help. “My—my fiancé will be looking for me,” she cried.
The shadowy face grinned down at her as they rode, white teeth gleaming. “He won’t find you.”
“What—what is it you want?” Maybe she could bargain with him.
“I want revenge,” he said in a voice so soft she had to strain to hear him. “Now shut up.”
“But—”
His free hand reached up to clap across her mouth, and he pulled her tighter against him. “I told you to shut up.”
His stern voice brooked no argument. Sunny had always been a very obedient girl. Maybe if she cooperated with whatever this robber wanted, he would let her go. If not, Kruger would soon have every cowboy in the county out scouring the plains for her. He was a proud man. No one could take his future bride without his power and anger coming down hard on them.
Diablo felt her body warm and full against him. It aroused feelings in him, mixed feelings. Because she trembled, he wanted to hold her close and protect her. But more than that, he wanted her in the way a man desires a woman, and she was his captive. When he got her back to his camp, he could do anything he wanted with her, and no one could stop him. Yes, she was Kruger’s bride, but Diablo could take her virginity. That would be the best of his revenge, to dishonor Kruger’s woman and make her his own. When Kruger came looking for her, Diablo would taunt him with that knowledge, and then he would kill him. In his mind, he told himself that he had taken the girl as part of his vengeance on Kruger, but his heart knew that he had stolen her because he could not bear the thought of this beauty surrendering her lush body in Kruger’s bed.
Tonight, he could not think of Kruger or revenge; all he could think of was stripping off the selfish beauty’s black mourning dress and making love to her on his blankets by the campfire.
Chapter 9
The downpour began in earnest as Diablo galloped back to his camp, the girl frozen in fear against him. He had expected her to fight and scream, but she seemed too terrified to move. They were both soon soaking wet, although he tried to shield her from the cold rain with his big body. At least the rain would wash out Onyx’s tracks, so they couldn’t be trailed.
He drew up in front of the cave and dismounted, Wolf barking in excitement. Easily, he lifted the slight girl from his saddle and carried her inside. “Stay here,” he ordered, “while I put away my horse.”
Sunny was too terrified to do anything but nod and stare, as he poked up the dying embers of a fire inside the cave entrance. She tried to remember where she had seen him before. Then he turned as he left so that she saw the scarred side of his face, and she drew back in horror.
“That’s right,” he snarled. “I’m an ugly bastard, and I know it.” Then he led his horse away.
Could she make a run for it? She wasn’t even sure where she was, and it was pitch black except for the tiny fire and an occasional jagged streak of lightning. She retreated toward the back of the cave.
In moments, he was back, and in a flash of lightning, she watched him building up the fire.
“What—what are you going to do with me?”
He had the fire going now, building into a roaring blaze. “Now what do you think?”
All the stories she had heard of women being ravaged by outlaws and Indians came back to her, and she tried to draw herself up and make herself very small. “I—I don’t know.”
He grinned without mirth. “Let’s just say your bridegroom will have to delay the wedding, courtesy of Diablo.”
Diablo. The devil. Yes, he looked like a devil in those black clothes and with that black Stetson. This was the Texas gunfighter she’d seen getting off the train a few days ago, the one who had rescued her that night at the barbecue, and the one she had run into in the alley by the saloon—the one who had startled Dad that day.
She was shivering, so she moved closer to the fire in spite of her fear. “Mr.—Mr. Kruger will pay a lot of money to get me back unharmed.” She tried not to let her voice tremble as her body was doing. Yet she felt as if her skin were on fire.
“I don’t want Mr. Kruger’s money.” He finished tending the fire and sat back, cross-legged, in satisfaction as they both watched the rain fall outside the cave.
She was mystified. “Everyone wants money. He’s got a lot.”
“Princess,” he glared at her with eyes as black as his twisted soul, “there’s not enough money in the world to buy you back.”
Her heart sank as her terror grew. “He’ll—he’ll be searching for me. He’ll have the whole county looking.”
“Of course he will.” His scarred face grinned without humor. “I plan on that, but he won’t find you. This is a secret cave I found as a boy.”
“You’ve been in Wyoming before?”
He nodded, his dark eyes cold. “I was a slave of the Santee Sioux when I was a child. When I ran away, I hid in this cave.”
She shivered again.
He suddenly really seemed to look at her. “Are you cold?”
“What—what do you care?” She coughed.
“I can’t have you dying on me—that would ruin my plans.”
“I wouldn’t want to do that.” She was trying to be sarcastic, but she felt too ill to care much right now.
He reached out and put his hand on her face, and she drew back.
“You’re burning up,” he growled. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”
“You didn’t give me a chance when you kidnapped me.”
He grabbed a blanket and began to dry her off. “You are soaked to the skin,” he said and wrapped the blanket around her. “I’d better get you warm.”
Now that she was convinced she was in no immediate danger, she was less afraid. “If you were really concerned about my health, you’d take me back to Kruger’s ranch.”
“No, the plan is that he comes to me. You’re the bait in my trap.” He reached for a big metal coffeepot. “If I can get some food in you, you’ll be all right.”
He bustled about, making coffee, while the rain poured down outside. She watched his hands. They were fine hands with long fingers. He could have been a surgeon. Maybe that was why he was skilled as a gunfighter. She stared at the Colt tied low on his hip.
“You can quit staring at my gun, Princess. You can’t move fast enough to get it.”
“I wouldn’t try,” she lied.
“You got more grit than I expected.” He sounded admiring as he handed her a tin cup of coffee. “I figured you as a typically soft, helpless female.”
&n
bsp; She took the cup in both hands, warming them around it. Most of the time she was just what he said, but maybe her fear had brought something out in her she didn’t know was there.
“You won’t get away with this.”
“I already have.” He sat back and sipped from his own cup, turning to watch the rain pouring outside.
“Hurd will have his cowboys out hunting as soon as Joe gets back to the ranch.”
“If he doesn’t kill the cowardly bastard for deserting you to your fate. I wouldn’t have left you to fend for yourself if I’d had to fight off a gang of outlaws or a whole Sioux war party. What a bunch of warriors liquored up on white man’s rotgut would do to a beauty like you is unspeakable.”
She tried not to imagine the images his words brought to her, but she shuddered and sipped her coffee. It was hot and strong, and she felt its warmth all the way down. “You’re Injun, aren’t you?”
“A half-breed. My father was a Santee warrior.”
“Looks like you’re following in your father’s footsteps.”
He shrugged. “Don’t know. I never knew him.”
She wanted to ask a million questions, but she guessed she would not get any answers. There was silence except for the big black dog yawning and the rain pouring down outside. She wondered what made this man tick.
She pulled her blanket around her closer and watched Diablo stare out at the rain, wondering what he was thinking and how he had been connected to her father. Could this man be Dad’s killer? Her anger grew, but she dared not ask. “Are we just going to sit here? Aren’t you going to write a ransom note or something?”
He frowned. “It’s raining. Besides, I told you this wasn’t about ransom.”
“Then what is it?”
He looked at her a long moment, and she drew back from his scarred face. “Princess, this is about settling an old score. Now shut up. You’re noisy as a chattering squirrel.”
Diablo Page 13