He shook his head. “No, we don’t. You don’t know what kind of man my brother is, but I do. I know he’s cruel, but I owe him. If not for Pete, I’d have never survived after the death of our parents. He’s harsh because that’s the way the world made him.”

“He’s harsh because he’s—”

O’Connell stopped her words by placing his fingers on her lips. His heart tearing apart, he leaned over, kissed her gently on the mouth, and whispered, “Until the day I die, I’ll always remember you.”

He touched Diana’s hair one last time, then he turned and walked away.

*   *   *

O’Connell met Pete by his pinto, which Pete must have saddled. His brother was as fair-haired and fair-skinned as O’Connell was dark. The two of them had always been opposites in most everything. Even Pete’s eyes were a brownish green.

And never before had O’Connell felt so much resentment and hatred for the brother who had once protected him.

“Why can’t you just let me go?” he asked Pete. “I’ve paid my debt to you a thousand times over.”

Pete gave him a hard glare. “You’re my family, Kid. Like it or hate it, it’s just you and me.” Pete smiled wickedly. “Besides, you’re the only man I know who can blow a safe and not destroy half the money with it.”

“You’re not funny.”

Pete shucked him on the shoulder. “Now, don’t get sore on me, Kid. You can do better than her. I told you that years ago. She ain’t nearly pretty enough for you.”

He grabbed Pete by his shirtfront. “I’m not a kid anymore, Pete, and I’m no longer scared of you. Catherine is my wife and she deserves your respect. If you ever say anything else against her, as God is my witness, I’ll tear your hide apart for it.”

For the first time in his life, he saw a glimmer of fear pass through Pete’s eyes. “All right, Kid. Whatever you say.”

O’Connell let him go. He had barely taken a step when he heard the front door of the boardinghouse open.

The marshal strode out across the porch with two men in tow. And all three of them carried shotguns in their arms. By the grim, determined looks on their faces, he knew what they wanted.

Him and Pete.

His blood went cold.

The marshal stared at Pete as he leveled the shotgun on them. “Pete O’Connell,” he said slowly. “Never did I expect to receive such a great Christmas present. Imagine the bounty of both O’Connell brothers.”

Pete swore, then went for his gun.

O’Connell didn’t think. He merely reacted. He was tired of his brother’s schemes, and tired of the lives Pete had taken for no reason.

It was time for it to end.