Samantha James (25 page)

Sam was undaunted. “Looks to me like the lady’s a little too much for you.”

“I like a challenge as much as the next man,” Kane stated flatly. “Now let her go, Sam.”

Abby’s feet touched the ground, but Sam didn’t release her. When she would have wrenched away, his other arm came around her as well. Hot breath rushed past her cheek. “But the question is … you still got what it takes to break a skittish mare? It sure seems like the lady don’t like you too well.” He laughed, a sound that curdled Abby’s blood. “Me, I like a woman all feisty and pepper-hot.”

Kane’s eyes flickered. “She’s mine,” he said with deadly quiet. “I made that clear from the start.”

Sam made a sound of disgust. He gave her a none-too-gentle shove. Abby landed on her hands and knees in the dirt. Tiny stones ground into her hands but she paid no heed.

Sam eyed her lustfully. “Tell you what—” He sounded almost reasonable. “—I’ll take the lady off your hands right now. You can have her back at midnight. It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve shared a woman for the night.” Abby pushed herself back on her haunches in time to see his leering gaze rake over her. “Why, the way she had her hands all over you last night had me hotter than a poker—and just about as hard, too. I’ll keep her hands full, yes indeed.”

His hand cupped his groin. He added something so blatantly obscene Abby could never have repeated it—even in her own mind.

Later she would wonder how a man could move so fast. There was a whirl of movement, a flash of light. The next thing she knew Kane stood behind Sam, his elbow locked around his neck; the flat of a gleaming knife lay drawn across Sam’s whiskered throat. Sam stood frozen, his eyes bulging. He was as stunned as Abby.

“You know I don’t much care for your mouth,” Kane said quietly, almost silkily. “Did I ever tell you that, Sam?”

“You were never much for talking, Kane.” Sam’s voice came out a raspy whisper. “Hey, I was just having a little fun … The girl’s all yours, I swear. I won’t lay a hand on her—hell, I won’t even look at her!”

Abby couldn’t move. She recalled Kane’s cold-blooded efficiency the night he’d killed Jake. His expression was much the same. His eyes were thunderhead-gray, cold and merciless.

“You don’t have much of a reputation for keeping your word, Sam. Maybe I ought to just kill you now and be done with it.”

Sam swallowed—a mistake. A thin trickle of blood appeared on the razor-sharp edge of the knife.

Abby made a faint, strangled sound.

Kane’s gaze flickered to Abby. She was back on her haunches, her face bloodless, the fright and horror she felt at his violence stark and vivid. Every muscle in his body was rigid with the effort it took not to kill Sam then and there—the urge was so over-powering he could almost taste it. Yet how could he with Abby not three feet away? She already thought he was an animal. She would hate him forever.

Christ, who was he trying to fool? She hated him already …

He ground his teeth in frustrated rage. Sam didn’t deserve to live. Yet he couldn’t kill him, not before Abby, not the way he deserved to die. But it wouldn’t hurt the bastard to do a little sweating for once.

“What do you say, Sam? A quick, neat she would make it easy on both of us.” Deliberately he paused. “On the other hand, you’ve made more than a few souls suffer on their way to the hereafter. Maybe it’s time you got just a little taste of how they felt.”

Sam was pale. “Don’t get hasty now, Kane. Remember that little job we agreed you’d take care of? If you kill me now, you’ll never get paid that hefty little fee we agreed on.”

There was a long, drawn-out silence before Kane spoke, his tone lazy. “Double it and I might consider it.”

“I’ll triple it. Cash on the spot, as soon as it’s done!”

A heartbeat went by. Then another and another. Kane slowly drew the knife away from Sam’s throat. “You got yourself a deal, Sam.” He retreated, alert for any threat the other man might pose. Sam stepped forward, his movements jerky.

“Think I’ll take a last look around before we head down into the valley.” He spun around and walked away, but not before Kane glimpsed the venomous rage in his eyes. Kane’s mouth thinned.
Great!
he thought, crossing to Abby.
I should have killed him. Now I’m going to have to watch my back twice as hard
.

He frowned as he reached her. She still appeared dazed. “Are you all right?” He extended a hand to help her up.

She ignored it. She tipped back her head and regarded him with unblinking eyes. “‘That little job we agreed you’d take care of,’” she quoted. “What did he mean by that?”

The concern was gone. His face wore that closed, forbidding expression she had come to recognize.

“He didn’t mean anything,” he said curtly.

“Don’t he to me,” she whispered. A sick coil of dread was slowly strangling her insides. “He was talking about something—some
one
. And don’t try to tell me he wasn’t.”

“Dammit, Abby—”

“It’s Dillon, isn’t it? He was talking about Dillon …” A numbing cold began to seep into her chest. She began to tremble. “What did he do? Ask you to kill Dillon?”

“Abby, keep your voice down—”

“He did, didn’t he? He wants you to kill my brother!”

Kane went utterly still. He hated himself for putting that awful look on her face. He had no trouble reading her mind. She was calling herself every kind of fool for trusting him. He shoved his fingers through his hair. “Abby, you have to understand—”

“Oh, I understand, only too well! He offered you
money
to kill my brother … God, Kane, whose side are you on—”

He pulled her to her feet, gripping her shoulders. “Abby—”

With a jagged cry she tried to wrench away. “Don’t touch me!”

“Dammit, will you just listen …”

He got no further. An ear-shattering explosion rent the air, followed by another, and then another like the echoing rumble of thunder.

Gunfire.

For a mind-splitting instant they stood paralyzed, staring into each other’s faces. “Son of a bitch!” The expletive accompanied the hone-too-gentle motion of Kane’s hand on her shoulder. She toppled heavily forward behind the weight of Kane’s body. Stunned, she lay face-down behind the granite-faced boulder.

“Stay here!” he yelled in her ear. “And don’t move until I get back!” He hunched down in a half-crouch and charged toward the sound of the bullets.

Fear encircled her heart. Abby had only one thought—Sam had found Dillon … or Dillon had found Sam …

There were shouts and footsteps—and the deadly staccato of gunfire came again. Sheer terror propelled her upright. She rushed forward, trailing Kane by a dozen steps. He disappeared around a jutting spur of rock. She followed blindly, only to be brought up short scant seconds later by the sight of two men scuffling, rolling wildly across the barren, dusty earth, one with hair as black as sin, the other with hair only a shade darker than her own …

Dillon
.

She had no recollection of screaming his name aloud. It was the culmination of her worst night-mare. She realized sickly that the gunfire had ceased. There was a rifle poking from the saddle of a horse—Dillon’s strawberry roan. Sam staggered upright; Dillon surged forward just as Sam whirled. His knee came up and connected with Dillon’s chest. Abby gave a garbled scream as he hurtled to his back.

Abby’s skin was pure ice. She stood as if paralyzed. Horror stripped her mind of all thought. She could only watch and wait as Dillon struggled to his feet just as Sam ripped the rifle from its berth. His teeth pulled back in a feral grin, the rifle barrel swiveled slowly toward Dillon …

It all seemed to happen in slow motion. Another figure had appeared—Kane, his Colt raised high, sighting down the barrel … Her mind screamed out a warning … Dear Lord! … They stood only a foot apart … Did he aim at Dillon or Sam …?

She sagged to her knees. The gun exploded. There was an answering shot—or was it only an echo? The very ground beneath her knees seemed to echo and vibrate; the acrid smell of smoke burned her throat and blurred her vision. When the haze cleared she saw Stringer Sam sprawled face-down in the dirt.

But so was Kane.

H
e lay on his side. Somehow she was on her knees next to him. Blood welled through the fabric of his shirt, thick and oozing. Alarm erupted inside her. She pressed her hands against his chest. Her fingertips came away crimson. “He’s bleeding,” she cried, feeling as if she were flying apart inside. She began to sob. “Oh, God, help him! He’s bleeding!”

Suddenly Dillon was there, shouldering her aside. He ripped Kane’s shirt apart, revealing a blackened hole in the flesh of his left shoulder, perilously near his heart. Bile rose to Abby’s throat. She pressed ice-cold fingers to her mouth to keep from vomiting.

Dillon’s expression was hard and intent. “Jesus,” he breathed. “We’ve got to stop this bleeding ….” He cursed. “Damn! There’s no exit wound. The bullet’s still in there.”

Abby began to shake. Kane’s eyes were closed, his lashes a dark crescent against skin that was white as a sheet. All she could think was that he looked just like Pa, in the very instant the Lord had taken him away.

“He’s going to die,” she moaned. “Oh, God, he’s going to die and it’s all my fault.”

“Abby, there’s a clean shirt in my saddlebag. Get it—and hurry!” When Abby didn’t move, he turned on her. Grabbing her shoulder, he shook her hard. “The nearest town is a four-hour ride from here,” he told her sharply. “He’ll be dead by the time we get him there. If he’s going to live, you’re going to have to help me!”

Somehow that penetrated Abby’s daze. She listened intently to Dillon’s low instructions, then scurried to obey. When she knelt down once more beside Dillon, Kane stirred at last. His lashes fluttered but didn’t open. Abby laid her hand against his unshaven cheek. “Kane,” she whispered. “It’s okay. You’ll be all right.”

He gave a low moan. A spasm of pain twisted his lips.

Dillon uncapped the whiskey bottle she’d brought from his belongings. In his other hand was a small, vicious-looking knife with a curved tip; the blade gleamed silver in the sunlight.

“The bullet has to come out,” Dillon said tersely.

Abby’s jaw went slack. “Don’t tell me you’re going to take it out!”

“It’s you or me,” he said grimly, ripping the shirt into strips. “And I don’t think you’re in any shape to do it.”

“But you’re not a doctor!” she cried. “Dillon, how—”

“Abby, didn’t you hear me?” He wound a swath of cloth into a small pad as he spoke. “We don’t have any choice—there’s no time to get him to a doctor. If there’s any chance at all for him to make it, we have to do it
now
. I’ve seen it done a dozen times before—I’ll just have to do the best I can.”

Her stomach pitched violently as he began to wipe away the blood, then held the pad firm in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. She had helped out at the ranch a hundred times for different injuries. Normally she wasn’t so squeamish. She fought the wild panic that surged within her, struggling for calm. Dillon was right. They had no choice if Kane had any chance at all of survival.

She smoothed her hands on her knees. “Just tell me what to do,” she said levelly.
Lord
, she prayed,
don’t let Kane die. Please, just help me through this—help
him.

When the bleeding had eased off, Dillon liberally doused the knife with the whiskey—and Kane’s shoulder as well. Abby’s eyes widened as he straddled Kane, sitting squarely atop his legs. Gripping the knife, he nodded at Kane’s head.

“Try to hold him as still as you can,” was all he said.

The knife descended. Abby tried hard not to look.

As Dillon began to probe the wound with his knife, Kane’s head jerked up off the ground. He let out his breath in a low, whistling sound that was almost a sob. Her lungs burning, Abby wanted to cry along with him. Instead she cleared her mind of all thought and concentrated on holding him still. The only way she could do that was to brace her knee on his good shoulder.

Dillon probed deeper. Kane’s entire body convulsed. Abby thought fuzzily that he must have sensed what they were doing; although his arms and limbs went rigid as a stone pillar, he didn’t try to fight them. His eyes squeezed shut. The tendons in his neck stood out. A sound that was inhuman ripped from his throat. Abby bit down so hard on her lip she tasted blood. She darted an anguished glance at his face. His flesh was colorless beneath his tan, stretched taut across sharply jutting cheekbones. His lips were contorted in pain. Then, mercifully, she felt his body go limp. He lost consciousness.

That made it easier—at least for Dillon. He gave a triumphant whoop as he extracted the bullet and gave it a toss. By then silent tears streaked Abby’s cheeks. She wiped them away as Dillon began to carefully bandage Kane’s shoulder with the strips from his shirt.

Finally he rocked back on his heels, wiping away the beads of sweat that dotted his upper lip. He glanced over at her and flashed a crooked grin. “We did it.” He rubbed his jaw, frowning suddenly. “Christ, who is he anyway?”

Abby took a deep breath. Her fingers curled unconsciously around Kane’s hand where it rested on his chest. “His name is Kane,” she whispered. Softer still, she added, “He used to ride with Stringer Sam’s gang.”

“Stringer Sam!” Dillon leaped to his feet. “What the hell—! Did the bastard kidnap you?”

Her gaze slid to Kane. She shook her head. The merest hint of a smile crossed her lips. “It wasn’t like that at all, Dillon. In fact, you might say it was the other way around …”

Her smile withered. She swallowed convulsively. “Dillon,” she whispered. “Pa’s dead …”

Later Abby reflected it was the longest night of her life. She wept in Dillon’s arms as she told him how Stringer Sam had killed Pa and was hot on his trail. But his lips were thin with disapproval by the time she’d finished.

“An outlaw, Abby! Didn’t you realize what he might have done? He could have killed you! What the hell made you think you could trust a man like that?”

“At first I wasn’t sure I could,” she admitted. “But Kane isn’t—well, he’s not evil, not in the sense that Sam was evil.” She shivered. “You had only to look at Sam and know he was a horrible man.”