Free Kilkenny 03 - Kilkenny (v5.0) by Louis L’Amour Page A

came faintly at the corners of his eyes, eyes long accustomed to squinting against desert suns. She remembered the quick way he walked, the strong brown hands, the way his green eyes could grow cold—although they had never grown cold when they looked at her.
    She remembered that first day down in the Live Oak country, the day she had first seen him. She had looked across that room at him and suddenly they had seemed alone, as if only they remained in life and nothing else could or did exist. She had looked into his eyes and known this man wanted her, and had known that she wanted him, and they were right for each other and nothing else in the world would ever matter but him.
    And now he was here again, close to her. He had been outside in the darkness, nearby. Had he known she was there? Had he been thinking of her? What had been his thoughts as he stood out there in the shadows, watching the lights? What time had it been? Had she been reading? Or getting ready for bed? Or already with her head upon the pillow?
    “Jaime,” she turned swiftly, “I want to see him.”
    The Yaqui looked at her and nodded. “Si, but to find him, who knows how? He is like the wind, and he leaves no trail.”
    “Think, Jaime! Where would he be? Remember what he said? That you did not follow a trail on the ground unless you could also trail with the mind? You have to think as the man you follow thinks, then you know where to go. You know him, Jaime. Where would he be?”
    The big Yaqui shrugged, but he was thinking. That was the way, of course. To follow him with the mind. It was like the deer—once you knew where he watered it was not hard to find where he slept and where he fed. It was the same with all game, and with men. They established patterns. Kilkenny had said that, and he had never forgotten, for Kilkenny could follow a trail where even an Apache would fail.
    But to follow the trail of Lance Kilkenny was something else again, for he was one who knew how to think, and knowing that he followed men by their patterns of thought as well as by their tracks upon the sand, he would think in different ways at different times. That, too, he had told Brigo.
    One possibility there was. He would want a place that was far off and lonely, difficult to find and easy to defend, a place where he might stand off his enemies if need be. Especially would he want such a place with the Tetlows to consider.
    “I think—maybe I could find him,” he ventured. “I could try, but to be away from here now? It is not good.”
    “Find him!” Nita insisted. “Tell him I must see him.”
    “Perhaps there is another way,” Blaine ventured. “Wait until he comes back into town. He will come, you know, and I know from what Leal Macy said that he has offered to back him if he needs help. Dolan knows him also.” Blaine scowled thoughtfully. “Dolan might even know where he is. He would know if anybody does.”
    “Jaime. Ride to town with the doctor. Find out if Dolan does know.”
    Despite her anxiety it almost frightened her to think of seeing him again. She understood well enough his motives for leaving her as he had, and respected him for it even while she regretted it. That she was quite prepared to accept him despite what might happen he well knew. Yet the thought of seeing him again and the chance of losing him again frightened her. After his disappearance she had adjusted herself only after a long time, and doubted if she could go through it again.
    Her childhood training, her father, all her background conditioned her to love for one man only. Moreover there was something inwardly fastidious about her that avoided the thought of any other man but this one.
    “Let me go to Dolan,” Blaine suggested. “I know him. I’ll explain, and then you’ll have Brigo if trouble starts.”
    Brigo waited, liking this idea better. He had cared for Nita since she was a child and resented the thought of leaving her at such a time. Kilkenny was the only man who