As she watched Ross's face, she could see his resolution falter. Then his lips tightened into a firm line and he walked to the other side of the cabin. His deep, resonant voice filled the room as he shouted through the boarded window, "All right, Sheriff. I'll send Miss Dale out to you. Hold your fire."
"No!" Devina cried. "I'll talk to them through the window, but I won't go outside the cabin. If I leave you alone in here they'll"
"Does it really make any difference to you what happens to me? Think a moment, Devina. You've been rescued. My great plans for revenge have fallen through. You won't have to go to Mexico, after all. You won't have to endure my loving. You won't have to pretend I'm Charles. All those plans I told you about were nothing but a dream, a lot of talk that never came out to reality, just like Pa striking it rich. You'll be able to go back to your father's beautiful house and the good life he has planned for you. You can go back to Charles. That's what you wanted, isn't it?"
Devina shrank from the anger in Ross's gaze. She had never seen such hatred and fury.
Ross gave his gun a quick last-minute check. Then, grabbing her arm in a painful grip, he dragged her to the door and attempted to open it, but Devina threw herself against it, forcing it closed.
"You're not going to surrender, are you?" Devina swallowed against the hard lump that had formed in her throat. "You're going to try to fight. You know you don't stand a chance. You know what'll happen."
Ross laughed, but the sound was devoid of mirth. "I made my choice a long time ago, Devina. I'm not going back to Yuma. I'll take my chances here and now."
Grasping her arm, Ross pulled her away from the door, but Devina fought his imprisoning grip. Kicking and punching with all her strength, she refused to allow him to open the door and force her outside.
"We're waiting, Morrison. Send her out."
Anger and frustration flashed across Ross's face, but Devina would not relent. Abruptly freeing himself from her with an angry thrust, Ross turned toward the doorway. "She'll be out in a minute, Sheriff. The lady doesn't want to be rushed."
Panic drove all thought from Devina's mind except the stark reality facing her. Ross was going to send her out, but he wouldn't surrender himself. He'd be killed.
His attention was still directed toward the armed men waiting beyond the shuttered windows. No! She wouldn't let him do it!
Turning, she scanned the room. The branding iron Ross had used for a poker lay beside the fireplace. Devina snatched it from the floor. Advancing silently toward Ross's back, she swung it with all her might.
Ross cried out sharply as the iron struck his arm, knocking his gun to the floor. He doubled over, clutching his arm in pain.
Quickly, Devina retrieved the gun and flung open the door before Ross could step forward. She was running toward the figures barely visible in the uneven terrain.
"It's all right," she shouted. "Don't shoot. He's unarmed. I have his gun."
Within moments, Devina was snatched up into familiar arms. She glanced up, a moment's shock shuddering through her as she glimpsed Charles's face.
Separating himself from her after a few moments, Charles drew back with concern. "Are you all right, Devina. Ross didn't hurt you?"
"No, but Ross is inside. I hit him. You have to help me get him out before they"
"Take your hands off my daughter, Carter!"
Turning toward the sound of her father's peculiar rasping voice, Devina noted with alarm his livid color, the deep lines etched in his face. "Father!"
"I said get your hands off my daughter, Carter."
Her father took a step forward, but Devina turned away from his advancing step at the shout that echoed behind her.
"All right, Morrison, come out with your hands up or we'll come in after you."
Devina squirmed free of Charles's grip, her eyes darting toward the cabin. She turned back, panic in her gaze.
"Charles, he won't let them take him alive!"
With a low gasp, Devina halted her impassioned plea. Sam Sharpe was inching his way toward the cabin, a gun in his hand. She knew instinctively Sharpe wouldn't care if Ross was unarmed.
She started running back toward the cabin. The sound of heavy footsteps sounded behind her. One running step faltered and stopped, but the other continued on. She could not take time to turn. She had to reach the cabin before Sharpe.
She burst through the door of the cabin, knowing that Charles and Sam Sharpe were not far behind.
Ross's arm was hanging limply at his side, but he gave a low laugh, his eyes darting to the men behind her. "So you're back with your rescuers behind you. Don't worry, you did a good job. I couldn't pull the trigger of a gun right now even if somebody put one in my hand."
The posse filed past her through the doorway. Sharpe grasped Ross's arms, twisted them cruelly behind him, and bound his wrists.
She heard Charles's voice in sharp protest. "Watch what you're doing. He's been hurt."
Sam Sharpe's low sneer sounded in response as he pulled the rope tighter. "Not as much as he's
goin
' to be, Doc."
Devina felt Charles's supportive hand at her waist, and she realized she was shuddering. Her eyes trained on Ross, she was unable to move as he was pushed into motion and thrust roughly past her and through the cabin doorway.
Suddenly numb, Devina turned and followed him outside. She was standing in the late-morning sun when she saw her father walk unsteadily toward Ross. A jolt of fear penetrated her numb mind. Something was wrong with her father. His color was abnormally high. He was twitching, his handsome face distorted as he attempted to speak. She felt Charles's hand drop from her shoulder as a low sound of concern passed his lips. She walked faster, her eyes on her father's face as he stared into the venom of Ross's gaze.
"So you thought you'd win out over me, Morrison, and take my daughter." Devina was at her father's side, and she felt his arm slip around her shoulder in a weak, trembling grasp. "But I have her back, and you'll be sent back where you
belongto
Yuma, Morrison, back to Yuma. You'll"
A low gasp interrupted her father's tirade. A drop of spittle falling from the corner of his mouth, he strove to catch his breath, his handsome face distorting, twitching with more violent spasms. The arm on her shoulder went abruptly rigid as her father's body began to convulse uncontrollably. Devina attempted to support his crumbling frame, but it was no use. His eyes rolled up into his head, and he slipped from her clutching hands to the ground.
Unable to move, Devina watched as Charles kneeled at her father's side and began working vigorously over his prone figure. She raised her eyes as if drawn by a second sense to meet Ross's intense stare.
His low, bitter voice filled the void of silence. "So, there is some justice after all. Don't worry, Devina. You're your father's daughter, a true Dale. You'll"
A quick, unexpected blow from Sam Sharpe's hand caught Ross across the face, knocking him backward. Blood spurted from his mouth, and Devina felt a drop hit her cheek. A peculiar light-headedness assailed her as her eyes touched on Ross's bleeding face. The sound of her father's rasping breaths grew louder. Unconsciously she touched the warm blood on her cheek and saw the stain on her fingers.
The world began whirling around her as fragmented pictures assailed her mind. Ross, her father, the sound of rasping breaths each shard like image stabbed her with excruciating torment until she sank slowly to the ground. The darkness accepted her, and her escape was complete.
Chapter XXI
Charles frowned as the key grated in the metal lock and the steel bars of the door were drawn open to allow him entrance into Ross's cell. Sheriff Bond's low warning registered in the back of his mind as he met dark eyes so similar to his own.
"You only got five minutes, Doc, and don't try
nothin
' except for fixing his arm. Hear?"
Charles nodded as the bars slammed shut behind him and the key again grated in the lock. An uneasy silence followed the sound of the departing footsteps and the closing of the outer door.
"How are you, Ross?" Charles said finally.
The face looking back at him still amazed him with its resemblance to his own, but Charles was only too conscious of the marked differences now reflected there: a swollen lip and tight lines of anger and bitterness surrounding that bruised mouth. The realization that he was responsible for part of the bitterness reflected there was a burden he did not carry lightly.
The caustic tone of Ross's response was the only open indication of the anger he so carefully controlled. "Is that the doctor talking to me, Carter? I suppose it is, because I can't think of any other reason you'd be here right now."
Remorse stabbed at Charles's mind. Ross despised him. What else could he expect?
"Let me check your arm. You can believe what you want to believe, Ross."
"Since it's Dr. Charles Carter talking to me, I'll answer just as I'd answer any other doctor right now. There's nothing wrong with my arm that a few days' rest won't cure. I don't need anything from you."
Charles allowed a few seconds for that response to settle between them before he grasped the arm that hung lankly by Ross's side. His brother's gasp of pain brought a responsive frown to Charles's brow.
"Don't be stubborn, Ross. Even Sheriff Bond saw the need for you to see a doctor. If you don't want me to attend to you, I can call Dr. Hastings. But if your arm's broken, the sooner it's tended to the better."
"My arm's not broken."
"Devina will be glad to hear that."
Anger flared to open flame in Ross's eyes. His attempt to withdraw his arm from Charles's grasp caused another spasm of pain to cross his face. He uttered a low curse. "I'm not interested in what Devina will be glad to hear. Is that why you're really here, Carter? So you can report back to Devina how good a job she did?"
Charles held Ross's gaze for a few moments longer without reply. Realizing there was nothing he could say to alleviate the heat of his brother's anger, he carefully rolled up the sleeve of Ross's shirt and examined the muscular arm beneath.
"We may look alike, but I'll be damned if I ever had biceps like these," he said with a short laugh.
But Ross wasn't laughing. "Prison life builds a bigger, better man, Carter."
Charles met his brother's eyes again in silence. Returning to his examination, he finally pulled back with a satisfied expression. "Well, you're right. Your arm isn't broken. You'll probably be able to use it more easily in a day or so. It sure took a hell of a whack."
"I didn't need a doctor to tell me that."
Charles paused. "Devina regrets having had to do this to you."
Ross's expression turned suddenly vicious. "Spare me Devina Dale's secondhand regrets." He had pulled away and was fumbling in his attempt to roll down his sleeve.
Charles felt a familiar despair assail him. How could he tell his brother he'd been a damned fool? He took a deep breath. "Ross, I've been a damned fool."
Ross's head jerked up at Charles's unexpected statement. Suspicion moved across his face. "Have you, Carter? I'd say you were pretty smart. Here you are on top again, untouched by your criminal brother's actions and probably a hero in a lot of eyes. And you've even got Devina."
"Got Devina?" Charles was startled. "Devina and I are friends. She asked me to tell you"
"I told you I didn't want"
"She's coming later this morning to see you. Harvey Dale's had a stroke and she"
"A stroke?" Ross gave a short laugh. "Hell, maybe there really is a God."
Charles frowned. "In any case, I didn't come here to discuss Devina. I came here to look at your arm and to tell you that I was a long time realizing the part I unwittingly played in this whole situation. Apologies don't mean much at this stage of the game but"
"That's right, Carter. They don't mean much at all."
Charles took another deep breath, a deep sense of futility sinking into the pit of his stomach. "But I want to say it anyway. I'm sorry, Ross. I'm sorry I didn't believe you and our father."
"Like you said, Carter, your apology doesn't mean much. Pa's in the ground, and everybody believes he was nothing but an ignorant prospector who wasted his big strike. Harvey Dale got away with everything, and with his luck, he'll probably live to pull the same trick a half-dozen more times."
"I'm going to get you a good lawyer, Ross."
Ross laughed again. "Why? I'm guilty of everything they're going to charge me with, aren't I? Ask Devina, she'll tell you. I'm sure she'll be only too happy to repeat the whole sad story I told her." Ross laughed, his bitterness twisting the sound to hollow mockery. "But don't worry, Carter. They can try me and sentence me, but they'll never get me back to Yuma."
Charles shook his head. "What are you telling me, Ross?"