Love's Sweet Revenge (26 page)

“And what will you be?”

He caressed her other breast and smiled. “I'm not sure. Maybe the big, bad lizard, or whatever it is that eats butterflies.” He stroked her hair. “And I could eat you right now. Tell me I didn't hurt you.”

“Did I protest?”

“No, but in this case, you wouldn't, and I just felt like I couldn't get enough of you—like I had to make sure I remember us this way for a long time in case I
have
to remember us this way.”

“You won't, Jake. God can't let that happen. By tomorrow night, we'll be right back here in this room, doing this again.”

“And the next day we'll all head back to the J&L and our big house and the great smells of meadow grass and your roses, and best of all, your bread baking in the oven.”

She kissed his chest. “Right now I'd settle for the smell of horse manure if it meant we were home.”

Jake grinned and kissed her hair, her ears, her eyes. “Well, when we get there, you will see rosebushes blooming all around the veranda, just like you wanted. Pepper told me Rodriguez planted those roses for you, and he's taking good care of them.”

“Rodriguez has a talent for those things.” Randy blinked back tears. “I miss those baby girls so much, Jake. I don't want to go home without you. They'll be looking for their grandpa, and they will be so disappointed if you don't come home with us.” She couldn't help more tears. “How can I go into that house or sleep in our bed without you?”

“Because we're always together, even when we're apart. That's how it was when I was in prison, and how it was every time I had to ride out on the job in Guthrie, and that's how it will be this time. Only we have to believe it won't happen, because Evie is praying her head off, and that's akin to the Mother Mary Herself praying for us.”

Randy had to smile through tears. “You keep saying she couldn't be from your seed, Jake, so maybe she's the product of immaculate conception.”

That got a good laugh out of him. He rolled her back over, unwinding the bedcovers. “There was nothing immaculate about it, Mrs. Harkner.”

Randy studied the rare smile. “
All
your seed is good, Jake. Just look at Lloyd and the boys and those precious little girls. We have a wonderful, devoted family, and it's all from you. You be proud of that tomorrow. And you remember that nothing they say in that courtroom will sway one family member from how much they love you. They won't hear anything they don't already know.”

He sighed, kissing her lightly. “Who do you belong to?”

“Jake Harkner.”

“Every bit of you, inside and out.
Yo te amo, mi querida.
”

“And I love you, Jake. This is where I feel safe. I want to fall asleep right here in your arms.”

He sat up long enough to reach down for an extra blanket at the foot of the bed and drew it over them, pulling her into his arms, not about to let her see the tears in his own eyes. He'd given thought to trying an escape tomorrow if things went bad, but he couldn't do that to her. No more running. Tomorrow things would be over—one way or another.

In Guthrie, when Jake Harkner would ride into town, towing killers and thieves and violators of women behind him, crowds always gathered, following him like the Pied Piper, wanting to get a look at him and be able to say they knew the man. Today is much the same.

Jeff scribbled the note as fast as possible in his own form of shorthand. He'd grown used to writing while walking, and Jake had insisted on walking the several blocks to the courthouse. The whole family was enjoying the chance to get out in fresh air and sunshine. So many people surrounded them that it was almost like a parade, and Jeff saw the event as the continuing story of Jake Harkner that could be serialized in his newspaper column. He would write about this with that in mind, giving more details than a normal news article. He just hoped that wouldn't mean writing about a hanging.

Police are all around. Jake is in the lead with his arm around his wife, who looks ravishing today in a beautiful yellow dress. Behind them is his son, miraculously able to walk but looking thinner and obviously in pain. He came most of the way by buggy but wanted to walk the last block with his father. He is supported on one side by his sister, Evie Stewart, and on the other by his wife, Katie. Following is Evie's husband, Brian, holding hands with a very fidgety Little Jake, seven now, and with Lloyd's son, Stephen. Out ahead of Jake is his adopted son, Ben, and on either side of Jake and his wife are two of J&L's cowhands, who seem to be posted there to protect Jake and his wife.

“Mrs. Harkner!” someone shouted. “What's it like living with a man like Jake Harkner?”

Jake kept a tight arm around Randy. “Terrible!” Jake answered for her with a wide grin. “I beat her every night! That's why she's stayed with me for thirty years!”

The crowd laughed, most of them seeming to highly enjoy watching the entourage.

Jake is in a surprisingly jovial mood
, Jeff noted.
I am guessing it's a cover in order to lighten the gravity of this situation for his family.

Jeff stayed behind the family with Peter.

“Hey, Jake, who has your guns?” another man yelled.

“I'm not sure, but whatever happens today, my family had better get them back! Those guns are willed to my grandson, Little Jake!”

Little Jake jumped up and down, looking up at his father and grinning as more laughter moved through the crowd.

“You behave, Little Jake,” Brian warned. “Once we get in that courthouse, it's very important that you sit still and be very, very good, understand?”

“I will, Daddy,” the boy answered, upon which he jerked away from Brian and ran up to walk proudly in front of Jake alongside Ben.

Jake spotted Gretta in the crowd, wearing a dark green ruffled dress and carrying a parasol with ruffles around the edge. Her red hair was piled into neat curls, and the bodice of her dress was cut just low enough to give a man a good idea of what she had to offer. “Gretta!” Jake shouted. “Come on over here and walk with us!”

There was a mixture of gasps from women and laughter from the men. Gretta marched right up to Jake, and he put his free arm around her.

“If I end up in prison or worse,” Jake told the crowd, “I might as well go down with two beautiful women in my arms!”

More roaring laughter.

“The man knows how to win over a crowd, doesn't he?” Jeff told Peter.

“Jake Harkner does and says exactly what he wants to,” Peter answered. “There is never any doubt about where he stands on anything. I just hope that doesn't hurt him today, because the prosecutor is going to bring up all kinds of things to get a reaction out of him. And I'm wondering if the prosecutor plans to use Gretta in some way.”

“Hey, don't it bother Jake's wife that he has his arm around a notorious prostitute?” one man asked as he rushed up alongside Peter.

Peter looked over at Jeff. “You want to answer that one?”

Jeff laughed. “No, it doesn't bother her. Jake is just being Jake. You have to know him well to understand, and nobody knows him better than his wife.”

The man shook his head. “Complicated man, but he sure attracts people like a magnet.”

“Now there's a good description,” Jeff answered. “Magnetic. I never seem to run out of adjectives to describe the man.”

“Jake! We're all rooting for you!” another man shouted.

The walk to the courthouse had turned into a circus atmosphere. Some of Gretta's girls followed along, as did a few well-known cattlemen and businessmen. A group of women standing on a little stage near the courthouse began singing “Amazing Grace.”

Jake stopped walking, and the whole crowd followed suit. He'd paused to light a cigarette, and Jeff thought how grand he looked today—a clean shave, his hair lying in neat waves to the collar of a clean white shirt under a neatly cut suit with a string tie. He spotted gold cuff links when Jake raised his wrists to light the cigarette. Jeff looked down at highly polished black leather boots. Randy's yellow cotton dress fit her still-lovely figure perfectly. Back in Oklahoma, when Jeff got to know Jake so well, it was not unusual for Jake to mention his wife's beautiful cleavage, and today it showed fetchingly at the square-cut, lace-trimmed bodice of her dress. Her blond hair was drawn back at the sides and tied at the crown, where tiny flowers were stuck into it. Few men failed to notice how incredibly lovely she was, and Jeff grinned at the suspicion Jake wanted her looking extra beautiful in front of the judge.

Lloyd wore black pants and shined boots with a white shirt but no suit jacket. Deep worry showed in his dark eyes, but he had that aura of “Jake's son” about him that hinted he was no man to mess with. He looked thin and tired today, obviously still not a well man.

Evie's dark beauty was accented by a soft-pink dress and pink flowers in her dark hair, while Katie wore a dark-blue dress and a little, round straw hat. Both women showed only a tiny hint of growing waistlines from the babies they carried. Brian was his usual neat, well-dressed self in a gray suit with a black silk vest under the jacket.

Ben and Stephen wore suits, although when Jeff first saw them coming out of the hotel, he could tell the boys hated having to dress that way. Little Jake wore black cotton pants and a white button shirt, but he had a way of always looking ready to go play in a mud hole.

Jake and his wife are the epitome of a handsome couple
, Jeff noted.
They don't come much more handsome than Jake, or more beautiful than Miranda, but I see the fear and dread in her eyes and in the way she clings to her husband with one arm around his back. She knows these could be her last moments with him. Jake knows it, too. He's covering. I know him too well now. He's ready to explode on the inside. This should be an interesting day.

“Jake!” Katie called out in alarm.

Jake turned to see Lloyd beginning to sway a little. He let go of the women and threw down his cigarette, hurrying over to Lloyd and putting an arm around him. His entire jovial countenance was now gone.

“Lloyd, you don't have to be here.”

“Yeah, Pa, I do. I'll be okay…once we get inside where it's cooler. Once I sit down…I'll be all right.”

“I'll help you up the steps.”

“Pa.” Lloyd held back. “You know I love you. Katie and I prayed for you half the night, and you know damn well how hard Evie's been praying.”

Evie began wiping at tears, and Randy went to her side. Gretta graciously and quietly left the scene.

“I'll be fine, Lloyd, no matter what,” Jake told his son. “I can't think of a better man to take care of Randy and all that's mine than you, so if it ends up that way, I'll rest easy. You stay strong, and you remember whose son you are but that you're also your own man now, and a hell of a lot better man than your father ever was.”

Lloyd shook his head. “They don't come any better than you.”

Jake tightened his arm around Lloyd. “You're going to be a bigger name than I ever was. Maybe you'll even be the damn governor someday. You'll be well known for far different and far
better
reasons than your old man. And I'll be watching, whether here on earth or someplace else.” He helped Lloyd up the steps. “And right now I can't get emotional, understand? Peter says I need to stay steady on that stand, which means ignoring my emotions, so this isn't a good time to talk about who's the better man. And if we ever duked it out, I still say I'd win.”

“Bullshit,” Lloyd answered. “The only chance you'd have…is if you tried it right now…while I'm still injured and weak.”

The Christian women nearby continued their hymn singing.

“Let's get inside,” Jake told Lloyd. “The atmosphere out here rings a little too close to a setup for a hanging.” He turned to the rest of the family. “Let's get this over with,” he announced. He kept a supportive arm around Lloyd while bringing Randy close again with his other arm. “Randy, have I told you how utterly beautiful you look today?”

“Several times.”

They climbed the steps to the courthouse.

“If nobody cared about that man, this wouldn't be so important to me, Jeff,” Peter told the young reporter. “If it was anyone else but Jake Harkner being questioned today, I could be pretty sure how things would go, but Jake is the most unpredictable client I've ever worked with. He goes entirely off his emotions and his ideas of what's right and wrong. I just hope he can keep that temper of his in check.”

The crowd followed, some grumbling when courthouse guards wouldn't let all of them inside the courtroom.

Jeff followed.
I thought I was done writing about Jake Harkner
, he scribbled,
but with a man like Jake, the story never ends. If I'd known all this was going to happen, I would have saved it for my book.

He turned to see how many were left behind, and then he saw a familiar face. “Good God,” he muttered, feeling light-headed.

It was Brad Buckley.

Everyone filed into the courtroom. Jeff grasped Peter's arm and pulled him aside, glad that the flow of the crowd caused Jake and the family to continue on inside.

“What is it?” Peter asked with obvious irritation.

“Peter, I saw Brad Buckley in the crowd outside!”

“
What
!
”

“It could spell disaster for Jake if he spots him inside that courtroom! Should we tell him?”

Peter removed his hat. “Holy Mother of God, I don't know which would be worse—telling him now or letting him see the man by surprise! For all I know, the prosecutor plans to call him up for some reason.”

“I think we should tell Jake now so he's prepared.”

Peter turned to a court guard. “Send Jake out here, will you?”

The man left to get Jake, and Peter ran a hand through his hair as Jake came back out looking concerned. “What's going on?” Jake asked.

“Jake, I—” Jeff started to speak up.

“Listen to me, Jake,” Peter interrupted. “It's vital that you stay calm in there no matter what. You understand that, don't you?”

“Of course I do.”

“No matter
what
. They might bring up Dune Hollow or the shoot-out in Guthrie or even go back to other shoot-outs or bring up your daughter or—”

“What the hell is wrong, Peter? We've already talked about this a hundred times.”

Peter looked around the crowd that remained close by. “You stay calm when I tell you this, all right? Don't react!”

Jake looked at Jeff. “You started to tell me something?” he demanded.

Jeff sighed and stepped closer, keeping his voice low. “Jake, just before we came inside, I saw Brad Buckley in the crowd.”

He waited, along with Peter, as Jake stood there, glaring back at him. Jake turned, scanning the stragglers who couldn't make it into the courtroom. They all stared back, some grinning and nodding at Jake.

“Good luck, Jake,” one of them called out. “We're all on your side in this.”

Jeff could swear he heard thunder somewhere, but it was a sunny day. Jake looked from him to Peter. “He's offered to testify against me. I guarantee it.”

“But what could he possibly say that would matter in this case?” Peter asked.

“I killed his father and two brothers. He'll find a way to make it look as bad as he can make it look.”

“But you were a marshal then,” Jeff spoke up.

“They'll say I overstepped my duties.”

“
Did
you?” Peter asked.

The dark outlaw look moved into Jake's eyes. “His father raped a fifteen-year-old farm girl, and then he tried to shoot it out with me. I did exactly what I had to do. And Brad's brother Bo was part of that shoot-out in Guthrie that left me in the street likely bleeding to death, so no, I didn't overstep my duties at all.”

“Well, you just let me do the questioning if it comes up. If that man shows himself, you sit still, got it? You'd better tell Lloyd and make sure he does the same. He can be as bad as you when it comes to men like the Buckleys and Mike Holt.”

Jeff could see Jake already struggling with his temper. Jake took a deep breath, and they walked into the courtroom. Before sitting down, Jake leaned over and spoke into Lloyd's ear. Lloyd immediately started to rise, but Jake pressed his shoulder. “Stay calm,” he told him quietly. “If you don't, I won't be able to either, and I
have
to, Lloyd.” He squeezed his shoulder. “It will be all right.”

Randy was still standing, and she faced Jake in near panic. “What's wrong?”

Jake leaned close, talking softly into her ear. “Brad Buckley is somewhere in the crowd.”

Randy put a hand to her chest. “Oh, Jake!”

“It's okay. At least I know it. Come sit down beside me, and don't you give one thought to that bastard.” He scanned the row of seats…Little Jake on the end. The boy gave Jake a smile, and Jake winked back at him. Next came a very anxious-looking Brian, who Jake knew was very worried about Little Jake's behavior. Beside Brian sat Evie, then Lloyd, Stephen, and Katie. Ben sat on the end, looking ready to cry. Jake walked along the railing that separated their front-row seats from the table where Jake would sit. He reached over and tousled Ben's always-tangled-looking blond hair. “It will be okay, Ben.” He couldn't help the grip at his heart at seeing his big, beautiful family…all the things he once never dreamed could be possible for him. He missed his precious little granddaughters and wondered if he'd ever see them again, feel their arms around his neck and their sweet kisses on his cheeks.

He moved back down to the aisle seat where Little Jake sat and knelt down. “You be very, very good, understand?” he said quietly. “Don't wiggle, and don't whisper.”

Little Jake pressed his lips tight, and a tear trickled down his cheek. “Are they gonna take you away today?”

“We'll try real hard to make sure that doesn't happen,” Jake told him. He leaned in and kissed the boy's cheek.

People whispered.

Jake took Randy's arm and moved to take his place beside Peter at the defendant's table. Randy sat on Jake's other side, and Jeff sat next to her. Peter stepped to a table across the aisle and shook hands with the prosecutor, then moved back beside Jake.

“That's Randall Prescott,” he told Jake quietly.

Jake glanced at the man, stiffening when he saw Harley Wicks sitting next to Prescott at the prosecutor's table.

“What is Wicks doing here?” he grumbled to Peter.

“He has a right to be here, but he can't ask you any questions.”

“I'd like to knock the man across the room. Having him over there feeding questions to Prescott doesn't help my ability to stay calm.”

“And they know that. That's why he's here. You remember that. One blow-up from you, and they've won, Jake.”

Jake seethed inside—not just knowing Wicks was here but also realizing Brad Buckley was around somewhere and might even testify in some way. In spite of a crowd stuffed into every corner of the courtroom and hanging over banisters above, everyone quieted when the court bailiff entered the room and with a booming voice ordered that everyone rise and be silent for the entrance of Judge Thomas P. Carter. The judge stepped up to his chair and pounded a gavel, telling everyone to be seated and warning them that he did not intend for this procedure to turn into some kind of circus.

“Anyone who causes a commotion will be immediately removed!” he announced.

Jake studied the tall, austere, and graying man, catching honesty in his blue eyes. One thing he'd learned over the years was how to read a man. The judge glanced at Jake, and both men studied each other a moment.

“Jake Harkner,” the judge spoke up then. “Please rise.”

Jake stood up. Peter also rose, as did Prosecutor Prescott.

“Do you understand why you're here, Mr. Harkner?”

“I do, Your Honor.”

“And you and your attorney have agreed to allow a hearing before me, rather than a trial by jury, in the matter of a shooting that took place three and a half weeks ago at the Brown Palace in which a man named Mike Holt was shot dead?”

Peter nodded and answered for Jake. “We agree.”

“And you also agree that I reserve the right to either demand a trial by jury or to sentence Jake Harkner myself without a trial if I so choose?”

“We agree,” Peter answered. Jake nodded.

The judge turned to the prosecutor. “Mr. Prescott, do you agree to this?”

“I do, Your Honor, as long as the prosecution is allowed to call a few witnesses and to question Jake Harkner.”

“And, Mr. Harkner, do you understand that I could sentence you to anything from first-degree murder—”

Jake heard Evie gasp. “Daddy!” she whispered.

“—to simple self-defense?” the judge finished.

“As long as Mr. Harkner has a right to appeal your decision to a higher authority, Your Honor,” Peter replied. “However, I believe when we are through that Mr. Harkner will be exonerated of any and all charges.”

“So be it. Everyone may sit down.” The judge pounded his gavel again.

Jake reached behind him and took Evie's hand, squeezing it reassuringly as the judge turned to the prosecutor.

“Mr. Prescott, you may call your first witness. And please keep in mind, Mr. Prescott and Mr. Brown, that I have requested neither of you bring a parade of witnesses to repeat the same story over and over. This hearing is simply to state the facts and to allow Mr. Harkner a chance to refute any and all accusations in a cross-examination. And I might remind both of you that I reserve the right to question Mr. Harkner myself.”

The prosecutor and Peter nodded.

“I would first like to call two witnesses to the stand to testify to exactly what they saw the night of the shooting,” Prescott told the judge. “They are not character witnesses but are here strictly to explain what happened.”

“Fine. I wasn't there, so I'd like to hear an eyewitness account,” the judge told him. He looked at Peter. “Do you have any objections, Mr. Brown?”

“Not as long as they simply state facts.”

“Call your witnesses, Mr. Prescott.”

Two different men testified to what they saw—both telling the same story about how fast it all happened. They testified that after Jake blew a hole in Mike Holt's head, he then rose and told everyone in the room that if they wanted to know what the outlaw Jake Harkner was like, they'd just met him. That he waved his gun at everyone in the room and demanded help for his son and warned that if anyone tried to take him away for what he'd done, he'd kill them.

“It all happened in seconds,” the second witness, Seth Kramer, told the spellbound audience. “I've never seen anything like it. Mr. Harkner was like a roaring grizzly bear. It's hard to explain the way he looked and acted.”

“Did he look like a madman? A murderer?” Prescott asked.

The witness glanced at Jake. “I wouldn't say that. He looked more like…like… Well, I said he was like a grizzly, so I guess you'd compare it to how a mother grizzly rips into anyone she thinks is threatening her cubs—something like that.”

Peter glanced at Jake and smiled softly. He quickly wrote a note.

That will help you.

Peter rose then. “Mr. Kramer, are you saying the whole incident looked more like a crime of passion?”

“Well, I guess so. I mean, the man just saw his son murdered—or at least he surely thought the boy was dead, and what Mike Holt did
was
deliberate murder. I have a son, and I'm not so sure I wouldn't have done the same thing Mr. Harkner did if the situation presented itself.”

“Thank you, Mr. Kramer.”

Prescott stepped closer to the witness. “And if you
did
find yourself in the same situation, Mr. Kramer, and you were able to wrestle the culprit to the floor like Mr. Harkner did, would you have blown his head off? Or would you have held him there and waited for the authorities?”

The room hung quiet. The witness, a small, balding man who seemed honest, glanced at Jake again. “I don't know for sure. I like to think I'd wait for the authorities, but I'm not Jake Harkner.”

“You mean you're not a
murdere
r
!” Prescott urged.

“Your Honor, I object to that statement,” Peter interrupted. “Mr. Prescott is leading the witness.”

“I agree,” the judge answered. He looked at Kramer. “Explain what you meant by saying you're not Jake Harkner.”

“Well—” Kramer swallowed. “I didn't mean that he was a murderer. I just meant that he's lived a hard life and then was a U.S. Marshal in a really dangerous place where he faced some of the worst outlaws and such. It…it would probably be easier for a man like him to kill someone than for a man like me. And it was his son lying there. I think maybe he just reacted more like a lawman than an outlaw. He did have the look of an outlaw about him, but he was in kind of a rage over his son. He even—” Kramer hesitated.

“Even what, Mr. Kramer?” Peter asked.

“Well, I don't want to embarrass a man like Mr. Harkner, seeing the reputation he has, but…well…his voice broke up really bad when he was giving those orders to help his son. It was like he…like he was trying not to cry. I don't see that as something a murdering outlaw would do.”

“Oh, for heaven's sake,” Prescott muttered.

Peter grinned. “Thank you, Mr. Kramer. You've been very helpful.”

The judge told Kramer to step down, and Peter turned to Jake, still smiling. He gave him a nod.

“I believe you have some character witnesses, Mr. Prescott,” the judge told him. “Just be sure what they have to say has true bearing on what happened.”

“It does, Your Honor.” He turned to face the audience. “The prosecution calls Mr. Henry Porter.”

Whispers moved through the crowd, and Jake just closed his eyes and shook his head as the owner of the clothing store where he'd bought his suit took the stand. Prescott established that Henry Porter was the owner of Porter Men's Wear on Sixteenth Street in Denver and that the night before the Cattlemen's Ball at the Brown Palace, he sold a suit to Jake Harkner. “And please tell us, Mr. Porter, what happened while Mr. Harkner was in your store.”

Porter held his chin high as though greatly pleased to gossip about Jake. “Well, he was in the dressing room, not even fully clothed, when Miss Gretta MacBain walked into my store—which that harlot is prone to do, flaunting herself in front of my male customers in an effort to advertise her house of ill repute.”

“And what did Miss MacBain do?”

“She walked right into the dressing room, and Mr. Harkner made not one objection! In fact, I heard laughter!”

A few gasps spread through the room, mostly women, while a couple of men chuckled. Jake reached under the table to take hold of Randy's hand, squeezing it tightly.