Nan Ryan (44 page)

“But I had been taught that a man has to exist in the present moment, to accept what turns up. I learned on that very first day at the university that I was alone. I would have no friends there. I accepted it. How did I actually feel? Lonely,” he said with touching honesty, “sad and unutterably lonely.”

Tears filled Diane’s violet eyes. She tried to swallow the lump growing in her throat. Star waited for her to speak. She said nothing. Slowly he turned to face her.

“You’re crying,” he said.

“I never cry,” Diane said, looking at him through her tears.

“Ah, baby, baby,” he said, cupping her chin in his hand, “I shouldn’t have told you. Besides, that was a long time ago—and long since healed.”

Nodding furiously, tears splashing down her cheeks, she said, “I—I … know, but I can’t stand the thought of you being hurt.”

“Sweetheart, listen to me.” Star pointed to a giant sequoia tree on the far distant western horizon. “See that redwood? It’s the largest and oldest living thing on earth. The secret of its size and longevity, despite thousands of years of storms and bad weather, is its thick bark. It’s fire-resistant and insect-proof.” He smiled at Diane and added, “It is the same with a human being. He can also have thick bark with which to protect himself. Believe me, my love. And I do have a thick bark. Don’t you think?”

Diane nodded, dashed at her tears with the back of her hand, and said with a wide grin, “I think your thick bark’s worse than your bite.”

Star threw back his head and laughed. Diane looped her arms around his neck and laughed with him.

He hugged her close and said, “That’s my girl.”

Chapter 40

“Star.” Diane pointed languidly toward the flaming western sky. “An eagle.”

Star barely turned his head. Squinting into the brilliant sunset, he watched the majestic eagle soar gracefully across his line of vision.

“Winged wolves, our Aztec brothers called them.”

It was sunset.

Star and Diane were outside on the broad front porch of the mansion. Diane was sitting at one end of a long, comfortable settee. Star was sprawled out on his back, his head resting in her lap. Totally relaxed and lazy from their afternoon at the hot spring, they chose to indulge in nothing more strenuous or exciting than watching the spectacular Nevada sunset.

They’d said little to each other since they’d settled onto the porch. It was not a strained silence but a quietness, natural and easy on both sides. For long moments the only sound was the distant cough of the mountain lion.

Ten minutes of silence.

Finally: “Tomorrow’s our last day.”

Diane sighed. “I know. I never knew time could pass so fast.” She sighed again, lifted her hand to Star’s face, and touched the tiny white scar beneath his dark left eyebrow. “How did you get this scar?”

“A fight,” he said tonelessly.

Diane made a face. She followed the contours of his less than perfect nose. “And this?”

“Several fights.” He grinned lazily.

Diane traced his sculpted lips with a finger until Star snapped at it, then kissed her hand. “You have a long lifeline,” he said, tracking it with his tongue.

Diane took his palm and read it. “So have you.”

Star withdrew his hand, hooked an arm around her back, and said, “It’s settled. We’ll both live a long time. But the fact remains we have only one more day here.”

“Must we talk about it?” asked Diane.

Star pressed his face against her ribs. “No, I guess not.. But I was thinking we might plan something special for tomorrow since it is—”

“—our last day,” she finished for him. “What could be better than this?”

“Nothing. Except perhaps a decent meal.”

“Complain, complain,” Diane said, shaking her head, “when all I do is slave all day long over a hot stove.”

Star chuckled and gave her an affectionate squeeze. “How about tomorrow evening we go into Virginia City, eat in a fancy restaurant, and then make a night of it at Piper’s Opera House?”

“Not on your life.”

“No?”

“No. I’m not about to share you with anyone else on our last night. So forget it.”

“I like your answer.” Star grinned broadly. “I’ve another idea.”

“Try me.”

“I ride into town tomorrow afternoon, pick up our train tickets to San Francisco, buy you something decent to wear, and have the chef at the Timberline Hotel cater a meal I can bring back here.”

“Yes! That’s it!” Diane was instantly enthusiastic. “We’ll have dinner by candlelight and drink champagne and—and … oh, Star, that’s a wonderful idea.” Her violet eyes were wide and sparkling, her busy brain already making plans for the big evening.

Star’s arm slid up her slender back. His hand cupped the back of her neck. “And I’ll buy you an expensive, stylish evening gown.”

Wide-eyed, Diane looked down at his dark face. “Don’t be foolish, darling. I doubt you’ll be able to find an expensive, stylish evening gown in Virginia City. And even if you do, how will you fit me? Unless I go along?”

“You,” he said, looking up into her eyes, “worry too much. Leave everything to me. I promise that this time tomorrow evening you’ll be slipping into a gorgeous gown. And it will fit like a glove.”

“I do like pretty clothes,” Diane charmingly confessed.

“I do like pretty women,” he told her, “in and out of pretty clothes.”

She laughed, leaned down, brushed a kiss to his mouth, and started to raise her head. But Star didn’t let her. His firm fingers on the nape of her neck urged her face back down to his. He gently bit on her bottom lip and sucked it into his mouth.

And so the kissing began.

Had they not been totally lost in each other, they might have spotted the intruders riding up the mountain. But they were. And they didn’t.

Neither Star nor Diane had any idea that they were no longer alone until the crunching of gravel under a heavy bootheel caused Star’s eyes to fly open in alarm. He instantly released Diane, leaped to his feet, and crossed the wide porch.

Three men were walking toward him in the fading autumn sunlight. All were huge. All were heavily armed. One was the Cherokee Kid.

“Get inside the house,” Star ordered, but Diane refused to go. Her heart in her throat, she defiantly came to stand at Star’s side.

“Hands up, Indian!” said the Kid, a rifle pointed directly at Star’s chest.

Star lifted his hands.

“You sure that’s him, Kid?” Davey Leatherwood asked. “I believe we’ve got the wrong man here.”

The impeccably groomed man looked nothing like the wild-haired, breechclothed creature they’d brought down out of the Rockies that hot summer afternoon. Was it him? the Kid wondered. It had to be. Everyone in Virginia City seemed to know Ben Star. And knew just where to find him. All gave the same directions to this remote Sun Mountain mansion.

“It’s him, all right,” the Kid replied. “Look at those mean eyes. And that damned silver bracelet”

“I’m the man you’re looking for,” Star confirmed, as stoically resigned to his own death as a Shoshoni chieftain of old. But not to the death of the woman he loved. “I’m fair game, Kid. But take Miss Buchannan safely back to her family.”

“Oh, I’m taking Miss Buchannan,” said the Kid, his glance shifting to Diane. “Come on out here, sweetheart. You’re safe now.”

Diane thought fast. And acted just as fast. Without hesitation, she stepped away from Star’s side and crossed to the Kid.

“Kid,” she said breathlessly, “thank God you’ve come for me. I prayed you would.” She stood directly in the line of fire between the Kid’s raised Winchester and Star.

“Stay out of this, Diane,” Star said in a low, commanding voice.

The Kid lowered his rifle. “I’m here now, darlin’,” he told Diane. “And this bastard’s going to die.” He reached for Diane, drew her to his side, and again raised his rifle.

“Well, then, shoot him and let’s get the hell out of here,” said Danny Leatherwood. “Want me to kill him?”

“Holster your gun, brother,” ordered Davey Leatherwood. “This is between those two.”

“Kid, don’t shoot him,” Diane said to the Kid. “You don’t need a gun to kill him.” She raised her hands and encircled his bulging biceps with slender fingers. “Do it with your hands.”

The idea struck the Leatherwoods as a good one. “Yes! Go get him, Kid!” said Danny.

“Give him hell,” urged Davey. “Beat his damned brains out!”

The Kid looked at Diane. “Sure, honey, sure,” he said. “I need no weapon.”

“Of course, you don’t,” Diane said, smiled, and slowly reached for his Winchester. But he still didn’t trust her quite enough to hand over the rifle. He released her, walked a few yards away, and carefully laid the rifle down. Hoping she’d done the right thing, Diane gave Star a worried, questioning look.

But Star wasn’t looking at her.

The minute the Kid laid down his weapon and turned back, Star came after him, navy eyes blazing. His speed was so amazing he caught the Kid off guard. His long arm shot out like a striking serpent, his fist connecting with the Kid’s left jaw.

The vicious battle was on.

Diane winced when the Kid’s huge fist caught Star’s chin and turned his head to the side, staggering him. The two men were evenly matched. They stood toe to toe and traded punishing blows for what seemed an eternity. Finally Star got in an uppercut that felled the Kid. On his back the Kid reached out and grabbed wildly for a rock.

Diane’s hands flew to her mouth. She should have known the Kid wouldn’t fight fairly.

She held her breath.

The Kid came back up.

Star moved in and threw a left cross. The Kid’s right fist shot forward, and he did his best to bash Star’s brains out with the rock. Star ducked aside. The rock struck him just above his right ear, a solid blow that knocked him backward to the ground.

He lay there dazed and helpless. Diane was sick with fear. The Kid wiped his mouth on his forearm, spit, and got ready to move in for the kill.

He was starting toward Star when a loud roar made his head snap around in surprise. He looked up to see a huge mountain cat leap agilely upon a close overturned boulder. The lion threw back its great head and roared again.

The Kid’s heart pounded wildly.

Recognition swiftly dawned as he spotted the dark diamond patch of fur beneath the lion’s raised head. The cat from the Colorado wilds! The same one he had beaten and caged. Dear God, did the cat remember?

The answer was not long in coming.

Paralyzed with fear, the Cherokee Kid stood like a stone statue as the mountain lion recoiled and hissed loudly, his tawny fur ruffling.

The big cat snarled, golden eyes narrowed, and showed his flesh-tearing teeth. The Leatherwoods were still fumbling for their pistols when the stalking lion wiggled his haunches, his tail standing straight up. Then shot, hissing, down from the rock.

Coming to himself, Star was as swift and as agile as the cat when he rolled to his feet, shouted a command, and threw up his right hand.

The attack was diverted.

In mid-flight the mighty mountain lion turned his big, limber body and landed softly on his paws directly beside Star.

The Kid knew better than to try to run. The cat would be on him in a flash. He stood perfectly still, shouting to the Leatherwoods, “Shoot him. Shoot the damned lion!”

“I wouldn’t advise it,” said Star in a cool, controlled voice, and the stunned Leatherwoods didn’t dare fire their pistols against the deadly beast or the man with the power to control it.

Star faced the Kid. “I’m in a strangely benevolent mood, Kid. I’m going to let you live.” He stepped closer. “If you ever come near me, Diane, or the wild west show again, I’ll kill you. No … I’ll have the cat kill you. Now slowly turn around and walk back down the hill to your horses and ride away.”

The Kid eyed Star, and he eyed the big staring cat beside Star. He backed slowly, nervously away, stumbled, and cried out in fear when the lion made a fierce roar. But the big cat stayed where he was, so the Kid turned and walked slowly away.

The Leatherwoods, guns drawn, stood transfixed.

Unchallenged, Star calmly walked over and picked up the Kid’s rifle. Diane came to his side.

Star addressed the pair: “Get off my property, or I’ll take you in for trespassing. And when you leave, be sure to walk very slowly. This cat of mine is hungry.”

The big, frightened brothers, guns frozen in their gun hands, looked at Star, whirled around, and bumped into each other in their haste to obey his command. They crashed to the ground in a tangled heap, Davey’s pistol going off, the bullet harmlessly pinging against a large pebble. Danny dropped his gun.

Fearfully they scrambled to their feet and went walking off down the driveway to their waiting horses, shoving each other and breathing hard and stumbling blindly toward safety.

Star and Diane stood in the gathering dusk and laughed as the two big brutes forced themselves to walk slowly down the mountain and finally disappeared from sight.

“Darling”—Diane turned in Star’s arms—“are you all right?” When he didn’t answer, Diane said softly, “Star?”

“Don’t,” warned Star, shifting his gaze to Diane, the wide grin still on his dark face, “ever again step between me and a cocked, loaded gun.”