Diablo

by Georgina Gentry

  “Some drummer, boss.”

  Homer Bledsoe drew himself up proudly. “I am not a drummer. I came because of the poster.”

  The cowboy’s bored expression now turned curious. “Maybe you’d better see the boss.”

  He disappeared and in a minute was back. “Mr. Kruger is in the den. He wants to see you.”

  Homer followed Joe deep into the big house.

  The wind continued to shake the house, and grit peppered against the windows. A big man with a very black mustache and hair sat slumped in a leather chair with a glass of whiskey in one beefy hand. He appeared very sad and defeated.

  “Mr. Kruger?” Homer took off his hat and approached timidly.

  “Yeah?” the other growled. “What do you want?”

  “I saw your poster. I’m from Wildfire.” He played with the brim of his derby hat.

  “So?”

  Joe said “Shall I throw him out, boss?”

  Homer held up one hand, as if to stop Joe from grabbing his collar. “I think I might have some information that would interest you.”

  Now the big man’s face lit up a bit. “About the girl?”

  Homer nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  Now the big man smiled. “Joe, bring the man a drink. Pull up a chair, Mr.—what’d you say your name was?”

  “Bledsoe. Homer Bledsoe.” Homer took a chair near the fire. The wind continued to beat against the house. He noted the important man looked as neglected as the interior of the house. Hurd Kruger needed a shave and looked like he hadn’t changed clothes in several days. He was rumpled and dirty.

  Joe brought Homer a glass of whiskey, and Homer noted the glass was smudged as he sipped it. “Ahh! Now sir, the information I have might be of some value to you. I understand there’s a significant reward?”

  The big man moved as fast as a rattler, grabbed Homer by the shirt collar. “Don’t play with me. You know something about the missing girl?”

  “Yes, yes. Don’t get so upset.” Homer managed to pull himself free of the man’s hands and looked away from his glaring dark eyes. Truly this was no man to tamper with. He might even be a little mad. “Last night, a young lady came into my pharmacy to buy medicine and bandages. She was a pretty blonde.”

  The other man asked, “What was she wearing?”

  Homer had to think a minute. “I—I’m not sure. A pink gingham dress, I think.”

  “That could be anyone.” Kruger scowled and sank back into his chair. “There’re lots of pink dresses.”

  “Oh, but this gal was special.” Homer insisted. “There can’t be too many like her, hair so pale it was almost white and very big blue eyes. Prettiest gal I ever seen. She bought medicine and bandages.”

  The other man’s face lit up. It was evident he cared very much for the girl. “Was she hurt?”

  “I don’t think so.” Homer shrugged. “At least, she didn’t appear to be. No, wait.” He screwed up his face in thought. “She did have dried blood on her hand.”

  “Oh, my God, she’s hurt!” The rancher half rose from his chair. “Was she alone?”

  “She came in alone,” Homer said. “I don’t know if there was someone waiting for her outside.”

  Kruger looked over his shoulder. “You hear that, Joe? It must have been her, all right. But if she got loose, she’d hightail it for here.”

  “That’s right, boss,” Joe nodded. “There must have been some bastard out there in the dark holdin’ a gun on her.”

  Kruger’s beefy face contorted with worry. “So she’s either hurt or whoever took her is, and there might be more of them than one.” Kruger’s face brightened. “All we got to do is track them from the town—”

  Homer cleared his throat. “I’m afraid that might be impossible, sir. The wind was blowing hard in Wildfire last night, worse than here. I doubt there are any tracks left.”

  Kruger sighed and slumped in his chair again. “We’ve got to find her, we’ve just got to, before some of her kidnappers—”

  He left the sentence hanging in the air, but Homer knew full well what he meant.

  “Aw, boss,” Joe said, “they may have already—”

  “Goddamn you!” Kruger came up out of his chair, upsetting it with a clatter on the bare floor. “No, they haven’t. Sunny would die first before she let a man do that to her. She’s so pure and beautiful, and she’s mine! You hear? She’s mine, and I’m going to marry her when I get her back and woe to the sonovabitches who took her!”

  Homer put his glass on the side table. This might be the most powerful rancher in the state, but it seemed he was rapidly becoming unbalanced. “Uh, well, I’ll be going now.” He stood up.

  “Joe, show the man to the door.” Kruger gestured, and his eyes were wild. “Mr. Bledlow—”

  “Bledsoe,” Homer corrected gently.

  “Whoever the hell you are, when we find her, I’ll make sure you get your reward.”

  Homer wanted to know how much it was and if he could have it immediately, but he was afraid to ask. Hurd Kruger looked like he might be on the edge of madness or maybe have had too much alcohol, and Homer didn’t think it smart to argue with him.

  He left, got in his buggy and started back to Wildfire.

  Hurd watched him go, then turned to his foreman. “Joe, get the boys out. We’ll look in a radius of fifty miles from Wildfire.”

  “But boss,” Joe held up his hands helplessly. “It’s blowing a sandstorm out there, and there won’t be any tracks to follow. We ain’t got too many cowboys left after last night. The Sorrenson hands have all quit, and the men we do have are exhausted after bein’ in the foothills all night. Bill has a broken arm, and we got one horse killed and several more are lame—”

  “Damn you! Don’t nobody follow orders anymore?” Hurd roared and charged at his foreman, slamming him up against the wall. “Get the boys out lookin’. They ain’t that tired. Now that’s an order!”

  “Yes, sir,” Joe sighed and went out the door into the sandstorm. He was beginning to think Kruger was losing his mind, he was so obsessed with this girl. Joe didn’t have any doubt that the kidnappers were using her for their pleasure if she was even still alive, but Kruger wouldn’t face that. There hadn’t even been a ransom note, which puzzled everyone.

  Joe shook his head and went to the bunkhouse to rouse out the reluctant cowboys. The ranch had been sliding into ruin and neglect ever since Sunny had disappeared several weeks ago. Kruger cared about nothing but her. Joe had been with the boss more than fifteen years, but he was beginning to think it was time to ride on. He had a bad feeling about this whole bloody mess.

  Chapter 16

  Days passed, and the weather improved. Diablo drifted in and out of consciousness, and Sunny looked after him. Her common sense told her she should take everything that belonged to Hurd Kruger and ride out. It might take her a few hours, but she would soon find her way back to the K Bar. Then she could marry Hurd as her father had wished and get on with her life.

  Yet she couldn’t bring herself to desert the injured gunfighter. She wasn’t even sure why. She told herself maybe it was guilt because she was the cause of his wound. She kept him wrapped warmly, even as the weather turned warmer, and fed him broth and willow bark brew.

  Now he was awake and staring up at her in wonderment. “How long have I been out?”

  “Oh, maybe a week,” she shrugged.

  “You could have ridden away and left me.” He rose up on one elbow.

  “I know that,” she snapped. “Just call me a fool.”

  “There’s probably even a reward out for my head. You could have led Kruger to me.”

  “I know that, too.” She busied herself around the campfire, not looking at him. “Would you like some coffee?”

  “Sure.” He managed to pull himself up against a big boulder. When their fingers touched, she felt almost a spark between them and shrugged it off.

  “You look tired,” he said.

  “I’m okay. I’ve been looki
ng after you around the clock.”

  “I haven’t done anything to deserve such good treatment.” He sipped his coffee.

  “Don’t I know it!” she snorted and dipped him a tin bowl of stew out of the pot on the fire.

  “I’m afraid my hands are still too shaky to hold a spoon.”

  “I can feed you,” she said and moved to sit next to him with a bowl and spoon.

  His gaze seemed to fasten on hers with puzzlement as she fed him. “You know, the only other woman who was ever this good to me was Trace Durango’s wife.”

  “That’s pitiful. No wonder you’re such a hard case.”

  “Did I—did I say much while I was out?”

  She looked at him a long moment, decided to lie. It would upset him if he knew how much he had said. Besides, she wasn’t sure how much of it to believe. “You mumbled a lot, is all. Couldn’t make much sense of it.”

  He sighed, looked relieved. “If I told you the whole thing, you might not believe me.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” She fed him another spoonful of broth.

  He swallowed and leaned back against the rock. “I reckon you’re right, Princess.”

  “On the other hand, it must matter to you, or you wouldn’t be so hell bent on revenge. Was it Hurd? Surely it wasn’t my father?”

  He shook his head, staring into her eyes. “Not your father. He was a good hombre. If I told you it was Kruger and some of his cowboys, would you believe me?”

  She backed away from him, eyes blazing. “Of course not. Hurd is a respected man in this county. If he would do something that terrible, Dad wouldn’t have wanted me to marry him.”

  Diablo hesitated. There was no way he could tell her about the scene he’d witnessed. She’d never believe him. “Then let’s just drop it, okay?”

  “Okay.” She watched him set the cup on the ground. He looked troubled.

  “You’ve tired yourself,” she said softly. “Why don’t you lie back down?”

  “I need to get up.” He struggled to stand. “If anyone finds this hiding spot, I don’t want to be shot down like a helpless dog.”

  She rushed to drape his arm over her shoulders as he fought to get to his feet. “You’re so stubborn. Why don’t you let me help you?”

  “I’m not used to dependin’ on anyone,” he protested as he took a shaky step, but his knees were buckling.

  “If there’s anyone coming, I’ll alert you,” she promised.

  He slid to the ground, and she pulled a blanket up over him. “There’s no reason for you to be good to me.”

  “Except I shot you and I feel guilty about it. Now lie still and I’ll read you a book.” She reached for one of the books in his saddlebags and got a book of fairy tales and opened it. “How about Beauty and the Beast?”

  He shook his head, his eyes closed. “Isn’t that the one where the beautiful princess gets carried off by the beast and she kisses him and he turns into a handsome prince?”

  “I think so.” She wished she had picked something else.

  “I hate that one,” he mumbled. “In real life, you can’t kiss the beast and turn him into a handsome prince. He’s always going to be just that, an ugly monster.”

  “Some women look with their hearts, not their eyes,” she whispered, then felt foolish.

  However, he had dropped off to sleep, and she figured he hadn’t heard her. She stared at him. One side of his face was handsome, the other twisted and burned. Once she had been horrified by his looks, but now she had a lot of sympathy for a lonely half-breed boy who had had to fight his way through the world the best he could.

  She reached over and brushed a shock of black hair from his eyes, and impulsively, she kissed his ravaged cheek. She wasn’t sure how this all would end, but she wasn’t going to let Hurd kill the injured gunfighter if she had to stay with Diablo another month. However, she was concerned that someone would stumble on this hideout and kill Diablo while he was too weak to fight.

  That night, he moaned and thrashed about, and she thought he must be having a nightmare again about being tortured and branded. Wolf whined and curled up next to him, looking up at her with mute appeal, as if to ask if there was something she could do to help.

  She lay down next to Diablo and put her head on his broad shoulder. He stirred just enough to cuddle her close and dropped back off to sleep.

  “It will be all right,” she whispered, close to his ear. “Everything will be all right.” She knew she lied because he was headed down a one-way road with only death awaiting him in a gunfight somewhere.

  She kissed the side of his face, thinking how vulnerable he was now and how he had come in with guns blazing to save her from Buck and Pug. This was a real man who could protect a woman and look after her, but right now, he needed looking after himself.

  The next day, she climbed on a rocky outcrop and saw riders a long, long distance away—probably Hurd’s men searching for her. She might get their attention with a signal fire or a rifle shot, but she wasn’t going to lead them to Diablo. She knew she ought to ride to the sheriff or Hurd and turn Diablo in, but he would fight capture and she didn’t want to see him shot down in cold blood.

  Within another day, he was getting around the camp by leaning on her shoulder. He looked down at her, his face close enough to hers for her to feel his warm breath on her cheek. “You aren’t terrified of me anymore?” It was a statement more than a question.

  “No.” She looked up at his weary face. “Now that I’ve gotten to know you, I realize you mean me no harm.”

  “You can’t be sure of that.” He frowned.

  “I am sure,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “Damn, you’ve certainly changed from the shy, mousy little thing that couldn’t make any decisions on her own.”

  She smiled ever so slightly. “Maybe I’ve grown up.”

  “There’s something I’ve been wantin’ to do ever since that moment before you shot me,” he said.

  She looked up at him, waiting, although she was certain she knew what it was.

  His big arms went around her, and he pulled her against his wide chest. Then one of his big hands tipped her chin up, and he kissed her, thoroughly and deeply.

  For a long moment, she lost herself in the kiss, her heart hammering wildly, wanting more. One of his hands went to caress her breasts, and the sensation shocked her because she wanted him to touch her even more intimately. Then she remembered and pulled back. “I’m an engaged woman.” Was she reminding him or herself?

  “I know. Maybe you’ll be sorry you helped me when I tell you I still intend to kill Kruger.”

  “Still?” She drew back, appalled. “I hoped you’d forget about that and when you got on your feet, you’d ride back to Texas and leave us in peace to get on with our lives.”

  He snorted and backed away from her. “So the truth comes out. You thought by helping me, you’d save Kruger?”

  There was no point in telling him that she would have looked after him, no matter what. He would never believe her since he trusted no one. “Sure,” she lied, “and you’re an ingrate not to let him live and ride on.”

  “I should have known it wasn’t because you cared anything about me.”

  He wouldn’t believe her if she told him differently, so she said nothing. He made a disgusted sigh and sat down by the fire pit and poured himself some coffee. “Women! You can’t trust any of them.”

  “You’re pretty much on your feet now,” she said, angry and disgusted with his stubbornness. “Why don’t you let me ride out and go back to the K Bar? I promise I won’t lead them to you, and in a few days, you’ll be in good enough shape to head back to Texas.”

  He picked up his pistol, hefted it, and buckled his holster back around his waist. “No. I want to keep you with me . . . as insurance.”

  “Well, that’s gratitude for you.” She shook back her hair and glared at him.

  He thought she had never looked so beautiful as she did at this moment. He knew
not to trust anyone, but she looked so soft and vulnerable in her pink gingham dress and he remembered how she had looked naked and defenseless when he rescued her from the two gunslingers and covered her soft, beautiful body with his shirt. He remembered how she had felt in his arms when he lifted her and carried her to his horse with her arms around his neck and her lovely face weeping against his bare chest. And he wanted her again in the way a man wants a woman. No, he wanted her body and soul. He felt his manhood rise with his need. “I tell you what, let me have you and maybe I’ll let you go.”

  She whirled on him, her face angry and horrified. “You mean, like—like some whore?”

  He shrugged. “If that’s what you want to call it. I’ve always intended that Kruger shouldn’t take you to his bed untouched.”

  “Why you bastard!” She crossed the circle and slapped him, and he grabbed her arm, pulled her up against him.

  “If you were a man, I’d have killed you for that, and you know it. I’ve taken a lot off you, Sunny, more than I’ve ever taken off anyone.”

  “And why is that?” she snarled as he pulled her hard up against him and she struggled.

  He didn’t know the answer. He had never felt like this toward any other woman. He wanted to take her, make her his completely in a frenzy of hot passion, yet he wanted to hold her and protect her against anything and anyone who might hurt her. Abruptly, he was ashamed of himself for the brutal way he was acting. He loosened his grip, and she stepped away. Then he leaned back against the rock and sighed.

  He didn’t want her this way, fighting and clawing and afraid. He wanted her to come into his arms, offering her body to him, offering the passion that the rich rancher was expecting on his wedding night. Well, Diablo still intended to kill Kruger, and now he wasn’t certain whether it was because of what had happened that long-ago day fifteen years ago or the image of Kruger panting and groaning as he took Sunny’s virginity. Diablo wanted to be that man, but he had no money and no prestige and he knew he was ugly—uglier than ugly, he was a monster. Sunny would never let him make love to her willingly, and he didn’t want her any other way.