Diablo

by Georgina Gentry

  Buck grabbed the skirt of calico and ripped it away. She wore nothing now but her little shoes and her lacy drawers. The two threw long shadows across her in the firelight as they stood over her. “Now, sweetie,” Buck growled, “take off them lace drawers so I won’t have to rip them. They probably cost a purty penny.”

  She trembled but she was also furious. “You’ll have to take them off me, you rotten rats! You’ll rape me only after I’m dead!”

  Both men threw back their heads and laughed.

  Pug wiped his eyes. “That’s plumb funny. You ain’t no good to us dead. Get her, Buck!”

  Buck moved in and grabbed her up, tearing at her lace drawers. She bit and fought, but now she was naked and he was running rough, freckled hands over her bare body. “Sweetie,” he breathed heavily, “you’re worth more than gold or water to a thirsty man. I ain’t ever had anything as good as you before!” He twisted her hands behind her back and bent his head to nuzzle her bare breasts.

  She moved fast as a rattlesnake to sink her teeth in his ear.

  “Goddamn!” He roared. “Come on, Pug, help me hold her down before she eats me alive!”

  The two of them had her now, fighting to get her flat on her back. Finally they had her pinned down, and Pug ran his hand down one of her thighs. “She feels like silk.”

  “What you think she’ll feel like on the inside?” Buck laughed and tried to kiss her, and she smelled the sour whiskey on his breath. She managed to turn her head and avoid his wet mouth. They might rape her, but she would do the best she could to bite or scratch, no matter if they killed her in anger later.

  “Who gets her first?” Pug asked.

  “Why, me of course,” Buck snorted. “You hold her for me, and then I’ll hold her for you.”

  There was the sudden whinny of a horse, and the three of them turned to look even as a snarling, furry devil launched itself onto the two men, biting and snarling. They fell back, shouting and screaming in shock.

  “Down, Wolf !” yelled a voice, and it was soft and deadly and full of unspoken fury.

  In the split second of silence, Sunny staggered to her feet with a sob, not even aware that she was naked. Diablo sat his black horse just inside the circle of firelight, the half wolf lying obediently near the fire where the two drunken men gaped at the sudden surprise.

  Slowly, Diablo dismounted, and his hands dropped to his side where his Colt was tied low on his muscled thigh. “Step away from her, you bastards—I don’t want your blood to splatter her.”

  “Diablo!” She saw him only as her rescuer, forgetting that only a few hours ago, she had struck him down and escaped. Now she got to her feet and ran into his embrace. His warm, muscular arms went around her only a brief moment before he thrust her protectively behind him. She clung to his side, sobbing.

  He pushed her to the ground behind him, and she clung to his leg, sobbing while he glared at the two men. “All right, which one of you wants to die first?”

  “Now, Diablo,” Buck forced a grin and gestured. “We’re willing to share her.”

  “I’m not,” Diablo snapped. “You’re gonna die for putting your hands on her, so draw.”

  Buck went for his pistol, but he seemed to know he didn’t have a chance against the lightning speed of the half-breed. His pistol hadn’t even cleared its holster when Diablo’s bullet caught him between the eyes, knocking him backward and into the campfire. He was dead before he hit the ground, big spurs rattling.

  “Goddamn you, you miserable Injun!” Pug grabbed for his Colt, but Diablo’s shot caught him in the heart. The force of the slug knocked him backward. He stumbled several steps and went down, the silver studs on his leather vest reflecting the campfire.

  Diablo stepped forward and dragged Buck’s body out of the campfire. “I wouldn’t let any man burn, because I know what it feels like,” he muttered and then strode over to the prone, naked girl. “Are you all right? Did they hurt you?”

  In answer, she burst into tears, and he knelt down and scooped her naked body into his arms. “Hush, Princess,” he whispered against her hair, “you’re all right now. They can’t hurt you.”

  While only hours ago he had seemed like a vicious brute, now he was her protector, and she clung to him, sobbing as she pressed her naked body up against his lithe hard one. “They—they were trying to—”

  “I know what they were tryin’ to do.” His voice was almost a kind whisper, his dark face close to hers as he brushed her pale hair from her eyes. “It’s okay now.”

  She looked up at him and saw the purple bruise and dried blood on his forehead. “I’m sorry; I’m really sorry.”

  He didn’t smile. “You should be—you almost brained me. If I had any sense left, I’d ride away and leave you.”

  “No!” She clung even harder to him, and he seemed to relent.

  “Okay, I know you wouldn’t be in this fix if it wasn’t for me.” Diablo held her close a long moment. Her naked skin felt like pale silk under his hands, and her bare breasts pressed against his wide chest. When he looked down, he saw the roundness of her bare bottom and was aroused in a way no woman had ever aroused him before. Then he remembered that she had nearly killed him, and for a moment, he was angry with her. She deserved to be dragged over to that blanket and used to slake his lust as the two dead gunfighters had been about to do.

  Yet the way she trembled in his arms made him want to hold her closer, protect her, cherish her. “What happened to your clothes?”

  “They ripped them to shreds.” She looked up at him with those big, tear-filled eyes.

  “Okay, well, I reckon I can give you my shirt again until we find something better.” He let go of her, peeled off his shirt, and stood there a moment, all wide shoulders and massive chest. “Let me help you put it on.”

  She stood up, realizing to do so would give him a full view of her naked body, but there was nothing else to do. She took the shirt, and he helped her put it on, his arm brushing across her bare nipples as he did so. The touch electrified her, and she froze.

  “Damn it, Sunny, move away before I do something you’ll regret.”

  His harsh tone frightened her, and she obeyed him, too aware he was staring at her nakedness as she slipped into his black shirt. It was still warm from his body and smelled of tobacco, wood smoke, and the male scent of him. It was way too big for her, and it fell below her bare hips.

  He stepped up to her and began to button it slowly, very slowly, all the time looking down into her face. She didn’t flinch away from his ravaged face; she saw only his dark intense eyes and the need there. She noticed his lips trembled.

  Now Diablo seemed to take a deep breath for control and stepped away. “God, if only things were different . . .”

  She didn’t say anything, but she wasn’t afraid of him, somehow. She felt a sense of power. “Now what?”

  Standing there bare-chested, he turned and looked at the roiling sky. The wind picked up suddenly, and lightning flashed. “There’s a storm brewing, maybe even a twister.”

  He turned toward the horses. She stared at his scarred back and wondered what kind of difficult life he had had that made him so hard and self-reliant.

  She looked up at the sky. “Shouldn’t we find some shelter then?”

  He nodded. “I think your dad’s ranch isn’t too far from here. Maybe we can still find you some clothes there. Get on your horse.”

  “Aren’t you going to bury these men?” Obediently, she mounted up.

  Diablo shook his head. “We don’t have time. There’s a bad storm comin’. I’ll roll them off in the ravine. In the meantime, grab anything we can use like blankets or grub.”

  She tried not to watch as Diablo took Buck and dragged him away from the fire and over to the ravine. Her torn drawers had lain under Buck, and they were smeared with his blood. She winced, thinking how close she had come to being raped by those two brutes. She gathered up bacon and supplies, extra blankets. The campfire had dwindled to g
lowing coals.

  “You ready?” Diablo ran from pushing Pug into the ravine. “I’m gonna turn their horses loose; we don’t need them. Come on, Wolf.”

  The big animal barked and ran to stand by Sunny, his tail wagging.

  “I’m ready.” She tried to mount up, but she was too shaky. Diablo strode over, put his hands on her bare hips, and pushed her up into the bay’s saddle. She was too weary to be embarrassed.

  The wind picked up, and thunder rolled in this distance.

  “We’d better get out of here,” Diablo ordered. “Don’t want to be caught by a twister.”

  They turned and rode away at a gallop, the dog following along behind. Diablo knew the landscape now, and he turned toward her father’s ranch. Would she be able to figure out where they were so that she might escape later? However, when he glanced back, she rode with her eyes closed, as if she were trying to erase all the horrible things that had happened tonight.

  Diablo sniffed the wind, his old life as a Sioux coming back to him. There was trouble in the wind, and a light hail began to fall. “We’ve got to get to shelter!” he shouted over the gale.

  Up ahead was the pale outline of a barn and cabin.

  “Let’s get into the barn!” he shouted and grabbed her horse’s bridle, taking off at a dead run for the barn. The horses and the dog made it inside as the hail became as big as white stones, pelting down on the tin roof with a roar. Diablo tried to say something to her, but the crash of the hailstones made hearing impossible. He could see the cabin from here, but the hailstones were piling up like snow outside and it was death to venture out. He reached to help her down from her horse, and his hands slipped and went up under the shirt. Her bare skin was so soft under his dark hands, and he had to take a deep breath.

  He signaled to her that they should feed the horses, and they found some baled hay and some grain in a barrel.

  The horses were nervous and snorting, but they settled down once Diablo threw them the hay. Wolf whined and lay down on the hay himself.

  The hail still pounded, but it had lightened enough to hear each other. “We’ll be here a while!” he shouted at her.

  “What about my clothes?”

  He shook his head. “We aren’t going out in that,” he nodded toward the open door and the pounding hail. “It would be sure death.”

  She noticed he was trembling. “Are you cold?” she asked innocently, pulling away from him.

  “Goddamn it, no, I’m not cold.”

  She couldn’t understand why he was so angry. “I’m sorry I hit you in the head with that rock.”

  “That’s not it,” he snapped and sat down on a hay bale, ignoring her.

  She had liked the feel of his strong, warm hands on her bare skin, but of course, she dare not admit that, even to herself. She sat down next to him.

  “Damn it, can’t you find a seat clear across the barn?”

  The lightning crackled and seemed to split the sky outside.

  “I’m afraid.” Her voice was tiny and she pressed against him.

  “You’ll think afraid if you don’t move away from me,” he muttered, but she didn’t move, her gaze concentrated on the thunderstorm outside.

  “What do you mean?” She turned questioningly toward him, her lips half open.

  “Princess, you are the most innocent, damndest—”

  “What?” She looked up at him, her lips slightly parted. His hands went to her waist, and she knew she should pull away, but somehow, electricity seemed to pass between them and she felt rooted to the spot.

  His fingers felt like fire burning through the shirt, and his voice came in a hoarse whisper. “You need to stay as far away from me as you can get, otherwise . . .”

  She ran the tip of her pink tongue along her lips. “Otherwise what?”

  He cursed and pulled away. “Don’t you know I could take you right here in this barn?”

  “But you won’t,” she blinked.

  “Now what the hell makes you think that?” He got up and strode up and down.

  “Because then Hurd wouldn’t pay full price to get me back.” Her voice was matter-of-fact.

  “I told you this was never about money!” He sat down next to her suddenly, sweeping her into his arms, and kissing her, his tongue slipping inside her mouth, dominating it as he held her to him.

  She knew she ought to pull away, but she didn’t. She felt hypnotized by his closeness and his mouth devouring hers. Instead, she leaned into him, putting her arms around his neck. His mouth forced hers open even more so that his tongue could caress the velvet of her mouth. Then one of his hands went up under the shirt to cover her breast possessively.

  She was both surprised and shocked at the sensation that raced through her like the jagged lightning outside cutting through the black velvet of the night. She moaned and did not pull away as he gently caressed her nipple and it swelled into turgid fullness.

  Now his other hand slipped from her waist to her thigh even as he kissed her face, her throat. “You little bitch, I can’t do this—you’re part of my revenge—” But his hands gripped her thighs, forcing them apart, and she wanted him to reach even higher as she clung to him.

  The wind and the hail ceased abruptly, and the silence was so deep it seemed to echo. Wolf’s ears came up, and he looked toward the outside, whining.

  Diablo’s head came up, listening.

  “What?” She asked.

  “Get down!” he shouted and grabbed her, pulled her to the straw-covered floor.

  Was he going to rape her? She struggled to get away, but then she heard a sound like a rumbling freight train and the horses reared and neighed and the dog ran over to curl against them.

  Diablo threw himself across her, covering her with his own body.

  “What?” She tried to get out from under him, and then the roar outside built.

  “Twister! Stay down!” he shouted in her ear as the roar increased, and the roof seemed to lift halfway so that she could see the blackness of the sky past his broad, bare shoulder. For a split second, they were showered with timber and straw, and then the roof came back down with a bang, half collapsing as it whirled by.

  Diablo looked down into her face. For the first time ever, he looked frightened. “Are you all right?”

  She only managed to nod, then turned to look out into the night. “The ranch! My house!”

  Even as she watched, a whirlwind of debris wrapped in rain seemed to come out of nowhere, and the house shuddered and began collapsing. Bits and pieces of it and various debris took to the air in a whirl and blew out over the prairie. “My house!” she sobbed, clinging to Diablo, “My house is gone!”

  “But we’re okay,” Diablo said and sat up, shaking splinters and bits of trash away as he brushed himself off. He stood up and reached down to her. “Are you all right?”

  “I—I think so.” How could she have been such a fool? If they hadn’t been interrupted by a tornado, even now, the gunfighter would be lying on her, pumping hard and kissing her breasts. The thought both terrified and excited her. What kind of slut was she? This was her captor, a paid killer, and her virginity belonged to Hurd, who would take it in their marriage bed. She thought of Hurd bare-chested as Diablo was now and sighed. There was no denying the virility and the power of the half-breed compared to the potbellied, balding rancher.

  She took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. Then she ran to the door of the barn. Through the slackening rain, she could see only a foundation. “Our house is gone.”

  “You’re lucky we weren’t in it.” Diablo said. “Well, I reckon we won’t find much left of value.”

  “I want to look.” Before he could stop her, she ran to the house and stood there, looking around.

  “Watch out, Sunny, there’s broken glass and all sorts of sharp lumber.”

  It gradually ceased raining, and now she stood here with tear-filled eyes. “There’s nothing left to speak of.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said g
ently and walked up to put his arm around her.

  “Daddy always said he had hidden some money so I could go back east to school.”

  “Maybe he lied to make you happy,” Diablo suggested.

  She shook her head. “Dad wasn’t the lying type. Well, if there was any money, I reckon it’s been blown away. It looks like every bit of everything is damaged or ruined.”

  Diablo thought of the small photo of her in the ornate frame that he carried in his saddlebag. He wanted to tell her there was one thing that hadn’t been destroyed, but then she would think he had killed her father. “Let’s get out of here, Princess. It’s stopped rainin’, and they’ll be able to track us soon.”

  “That’s all you think of,” she turned, flaying out at him, tears in her eyes. “That’s all you care about—using me to lure Hurd to his death!”

  She beat on his bare chest with both her small fists, and he caught and held them. “Any other man would spank your little bottom and throw you across his saddle,” he snarled.

  “Why don’t you then? Why don’t you?”

  “Princess, you do try my patience.” He picked her up, with her still beating him about the face and bare chest, and carried her out of the ruins of the cabin. He carried her into the barn and sat her down on a hay bale, where she sobbed uncontrollably. “I’ll see if I can find you a dress and maybe a shirt for me.”

  “I don’t want you wearing my dad’s things!” she screamed at him.

  “Okay,” he nodded, “I understand. His shirts wouldn’t be big enough for me anyway. Just sit here.” He turned and strode back to the ruins of the house while she watched; he picked through the rubble and found a pink gingham dress, but not much else.

  It occurred to her she could take a horse and try to make a run for it. After all, she knew where she was now. It wasn’t that many miles to the K Bar. Then she decided she hadn’t a chance of out riding the half-breed. She had never seen anyone ride as well as Diablo did.

  In a few minutes, he abandoned his search, got the two horses, and whistled to the dog. Then he walked over and stood looking down at her as she stared at her destroyed house and wept. “It’s just a house, Sunny. Hurd will build you a better one.”