Love's Sweet Revenge (3 page)

Peter absently twirled the glass between his fingers. “Of course I know it.” Peter sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. “Old memories can really sting sometimes, Jeff.”

“I know. I have some of my own. Half living with them for so long left its mark.”

Peter met his gaze. “I think you should tell Jake about Mike Holt. He and Lloyd have a right to know so they can at least be on the lookout.”

Jeff nodded. “I think so, too. Of course, a man like Jake is always on the lookout anyway. He'll never quite get over wondering if someone is out there ready to make a name for himself.”

Peter grunted a laugh. “God help the man who thinks he can take down Jake Harkner.”

Jeff smiled and nodded. “I've held those guns, and I've ridden with the man. He's the best friend anyone could ask for when you're sincere and honest…but you sure as hell don't want to be his enemy.” He rose. “I'd better get back. I have a cab waiting for me. You can keep that paper if you want. I'll get more details.” He sighed. “In the meantime, I'll send a wire to Denver. A courier rides out to Jake's ranch once a week with news. I'll be sure the wire says someone should go out there right away. If I wait till it hits the papers, it might be two weeks or more before Jake would know. He gets the
Denver Post
in bunches every couple of weeks. He lets Randy read them and pick out anything he might care about. Jake isn't a man with the patience to sit and read for hours.”

Peter also rose. “No doubt about that. There isn't much of
anything
Jake Harkner has patience for, except for his wife and those grandchildren.” He walked around the desk and shook Jeff's hand again. “We had quite a time back in Guthrie, didn't we?”

“We sure did. You don't run with a man like Jake Harkner without it leaving some pretty vivid memories.” He squeezed Peter's hand. “And you don't meet up with a woman like Randy without her leaving one hell of an impression.”

Peter didn't reply. He felt as though someone was physically squeezing his heart. He released Jeff's hand and headed for the door. “Thanks for the information, Jeff. And if you need me for anything—anything at all—let me know. I'm glad you told me about this. Please keep me updated on anything you find out, will you?”

“You know I will.”

Peter opened the door and walked out with Jeff, who first took his hat from the stand at the door. The two men looked at each other once more, vivid memories swimming between them. “You let me know about that baby,” Peter said.

“I will.” Jeff turned and left.

Peter watched him climb into the carriage that had brought him there, and the driver snapped a small whip, urging the horse into a trot. The horse's hooves echoed on the brick driveway as they drove off, reminding Peter of another horse—a big, black horse that held a big, well-armed man back in Guthrie, Oklahoma. In some ways, it seemed a lifetime ago.

“Peter? Are you all right?”

He turned to see his wife standing there, watching him.

“What did Jeff want? You look upset.”

Peter smiled sadly and reached out to embrace her. “He just wanted some advice on something,” he told her. “Nothing to worry about. Why don't you go start changing for that benefit we're attending later? I'll be up in a minute.”

Treena leaned up and kissed him lightly. “All right. But you are clearly upset. When you're ready, you tell me what's going on, Peter Brown.”

He kissed her cheek. “I will. I promise. Go on with you.” He watched her turn and go up the wide, winding staircase to the bedrooms, then walked back to his office, going over to a bookcase. He took out a hardbound book, staring at the title.

Jake Harkner: The Legend and the Myth.

Legend for sure, but no myth. The man was very real, and Peter had no doubt he could still be very dangerous—and ruthless. If Mike Holt had any intentions of finding revenge for the shoot-out at Dune Hollow, he'd be wise not to act on them. Jake Harkner might be a little older, but a man like that never got softer, and he sure as hell still knew how to use those guns.

Lloyd led his horse into one of several whitewashed board-and-batt barns on the J&L, weary from a long day of herding cattle into pens and sorting cows and their calves from the breeding bulls. Among the male calves, some would be castrated and fattened up for slaughter. Grown steers ready for market were separated into their own holding pens in preparation for the new herd that would be coming in after spring roundup. They'd already found one bull they called Gus, the meanest of them all. The ornery animal had nearly managed to gore Lloyd's horse earlier in the day.

“Ole Gus is one mad bastard, Sammy,” Lloyd told his horse, patting the animal's flank. “Good thing you're so good at what you do. Things will get a lot livelier once we head out for roundup and bring in more cows and their calves. There's a lot of hard work ahead for you and me both.”

Cattle splintered into every direction through the winter, and finding all of them on fifty thousand acres was a daunting task every spring. Lloyd thanked God that he'd found several new calves already, all healthy and alive. It always hurt to find those who'd not survived the wolves and the deep snows. Every time he came across a dead bull or steer it made him feel lonely. It brought back memories of Beth, buried back in Guthrie after bleeding to death from a miscarriage. At least he had Stephen, a part of Beth he could keep forever. Sometimes he had to fight the old urge to blame Jake for all the years he lost with Beth, but it was really his own fault for running off in anger when he learned the truth about his father's past. If he'd stayed…

Lloyd forced his mind away from that old pain. He wondered at his own ability to feel sorry for a dead animal when he could shoot a man down with no remorse. Routing out the scum of the earth day in and day out as a U.S. Marshal did that to a man. It was even easier for Jake, who long before becoming a marshal had lost count of how many men had met the wrong end of his gun. Yet there was so much goodness in him, and a kid couldn't ask for a better father. When he feared he was losing Jake to death after the shoot-out back in Guthrie, that's when he knew more than ever how much the man meant to him. He'd not leave him again—ever.

“Live and learn, Sammy,” he mumbled, wondering why he was talking to a horse that didn't understand a word he said. “Some of us are slower at it than others.” If only Jake had told him the truth about his childhood and what led him down the wrong path in his early years, it might all have been different. But as a father himself now, he was beginning to understand how hard it would be to tell his own son he'd killed his own father and lived the first thirty years of his life as a wanted man.

He threw his saddle over the sidewall of the stall, then removed the blanket. “I'll give Stephen the chore of rubbing you down, boy,” he told the gelding, proceeding to remove the animal's bridle. “Time to teach the younger ones how to run a ranch, since it will be theirs someday.”

Life was good here. He was more than happy that his days of riding beside Jake as a marshal were over. So was Katie. And Evie. He sobered at the thought of what had happened to his sister back in Oklahoma. She was damn strong, strong deep inside like their mother, and tough like Jake. They didn't come any stronger than his parents. But Katie—she was growing stronger every day, too. God knew a woman had to be strong and determined to put up with the likes of him and his father. It felt good to know that his marriage to Katie became more solid every day since coming here to Colorado, their love becoming deeper and more devoted. He was finally able to see Katie for who she was—a sweet, caring woman who knew how to please a man and who was a good mother to his son, Stephen, and to the baby girl they'd had together. He was finally able to stop comparing her to Beth.

He walked over to take a bag of feed from a shelf on the opposite side of the stall. “I'll give you a few oats, Sammy, but not too much.” He hoisted the sack to his shoulder and carried it back to the horse, grunting a little as he set it down and untied the bag. “I don't want you getting the colic,” he muttered. He lifted it again, pouring some into a trough.

“I like watching those muscles at work,” a female voice spoke up as he lowered the bag of oats to retie it. The voice startled him a little. He whirled to see his wife standing outside the stall.

“
Katie?
Where in hell did you come from?”

“Cole Decker rode in earlier and said you were on your way back. I know this is the barn where you always put Sammy up.” She put her hands on her hips and swayed a bit seductively. “I took our little Tricia over to Evie's so we could be alone. Stephen and Ben are out in the south pasture helping Terrel Adams corral a few breeding cows. I've been watching you from the loft.”

Lloyd grinned. “You little vamp. You sure were awful quiet climbing down that ladder.” He carried the bag of oats out of the stall and stopped to close the stall gate, then set the oats aside and grabbed her close, whirling her around and planting a long kiss on her. He moved his lips to her neck. “Honey, I need a bath and a shave and—”

“I don't care. You can do all that when you come to the house. I have a couple of blankets laid out in the loft. All you have to do is put that board over by the door through the handles so no one can get in and then come join me.”

Surprised, Lloyd set her on her feet. “Are you serious?”

Katie darted away. “I most certainly am.” She ran over to the ladder, lifting her skirt to show most of one leg before she scurried up the narrow wooden steps.

“Sweet Jesus,” Lloyd muttered. He hurried over to the barn door and closed it, picking up the board used to slip through the handles to keep it secured. He practically ran to the ladder, climbing three rungs at a time up to the loft to see Katie's dress was already off. He stood there a moment just looking at her soft, white skin and the way her bright-red hair spilled over her shoulders. Her blue eyes glittered with love as she unlaced her camisole. He loved her colorful glow—all white and red and blue, and in the most pleasing places…pink.

“You sure, baby? I really do need a bath, and—”

She opened the camisole to reveal full breasts, pink nipples peaked from desire. She proceeded to drop her underpants. “I'm sure.” She sat down on a blanket spread out over the straw and lay back. “Come here, Lloyd Harkner.”

It didn't take Lloyd long to undo his gun belt, throw it aside, and get his clothes off. He knelt down and drank in the sight of her as he ran his hands up her legs, over her belly. He plied her breasts, scooting his knees between her legs and bending close to taste her taut nipples. He kissed her neck, licked her behind the ear, moved to her mouth, and she opened her lips to greet his tongue. Lloyd kissed her hungrily, apologizing then for wanting to just get inside her without foreplay.

“I'll allow it this time,” she told him with a sexy smile, “but when you're through, I demand that we do it again—and you have to pleasure me first.”

He kissed her over and over. “God, Katie, this is so sweet of you,” he groaned. “I'm so sick of nothing but cows and horses and men who smell worse than the animals. I hope I don't smell that bad.”

“You always smell good. Right now you smell like a fresh stream of water.”

“Yeah, well, I bathed in a creek the best I could just yesterday, so I wouldn't be too hard to be around when I got back.”

Katie smiled. “You're never hard to be around.” She gasped when he rammed himself inside of her with pent-up need. She arched to him in response, leaning up and capturing his mouth with her own.

They moved in wild rhythm, and it wasn't long before Lloyd's life spilled into her, life he hoped would again take hold, and they would have their second baby together, another brother or sister for his Stephen, another baby for his precious Katie, who'd lost a baby girl and a husband before they met and married.

They both needed this. They'd both lost one love and found another. And they'd both come to understand that that was okay.

“I'm sorry, Katie. I just couldn't hold it in. It's been too long.” He raised up on his elbows. “And you're so damn beautiful.”

Katie pulled at the leather tie that held his waist-length black hair at his neck. She let his hair fall down and surround her. “Lloyd Harkner, your skin is so dark next to mine.” She fanned his hair out even more. “Are you sure you don't have Indian blood?”

“Not that I know of, unless some Indian stole my mother away one night, and she never told Pa.”

Katie laughed. “I'd like to see any man steal Randy Harkner away from Jake.”

Lloyd grinned. “Yeah, any man who made off with my mother would be one sorry sonofabitch.” He kissed her eyes. “It would be the same if some man dared to touch my Katie.”

She smiled, leaning up to kiss his chest. “For the rest of my life, you'll be the only man touching me.”

“You bet.” He kissed her, groaning with renewed want. “I can't believe you did this, you brazen little hussy,” he told her, kissing her throat again.

She ran her hands over his arms and shoulders. “Why, Mr. Harkner, I declare, you are the most handsome man in all of Colorado,” she told him with a teasing fake southern accent. “You make me feel like a tiny little flower lying under a big oak tree, or perhaps a shivering, helpless captive of a wild Indian, with all that hair and that skin tanned dark. I suppose you intend to ravish me now.”

Lloyd laughed. “Oh, I intend to do just that.” He met her mouth again, moving a hand to secret places. “How much time do we have?” he asked between kisses.

“Evie said she'd keep Tricia—”

A kiss.

“—as long as necessary,” Katie answered.

Another kiss.

“You mean she knows what we're up to?” he asked, kissing her breasts.

“Of course she does.”

“Good Lord, she's going to tease me something awful when Mom has us all over for Sunday dinner.”

“No more than we'll tease your parents about riding the line alone all this time.”

Lloyd leaned down and kissed her hungrily again, grasping her face in big, strong hands that could so easily break her, yet gently adored her instead. “You're one wild woman, Katie Harkner.”

“And I love a wild man,” she answered.

Before they could act on their desire to make love a second time, someone yelled to Lloyd from outside the barn.

“Lloyd! You in there cavorting? Your parents might need you!”

Lloyd wilted a little and sighed. “Now what?” He moved off Katie and leaned down to give her one more quick kiss. “I'm sorry, honey.”

They both sat up. “Go see what he wants,” Katie told him. “Here.” She handed him a towel she'd brought with her, and he cleaned himself as best he could.

“Lloyd!” one of the men shouted again.

“Just a minute!” Lloyd yelled, frowning with irritation. He stood up and pulled on his long johns. “Sounds like Pepper,” he told Katie. He buttoned his long johns and hurried over to the loft door, swinging it open to see three ranch hands on horseback waiting below. He directed his words to the one called Pepper. “What the hell do you want?”

Pepper grinned. “What're you doin' in your underwear, boy?”

“None of your goddamn business, you dirty-minded old sonofabitch. What's going on?”

Pepper looked over at Cole Decker and Vance Kelly, and all three men chuckled. Pepper, whose real name no one knew, looked back up at Lloyd. “Well now, I hate to interrupt, but Vance here has a message some special courier from Denver brought out and gave to your sister a few minutes ago. She looked kind of upset when she read it—said to give it to you. And that ain't all. The courier—that fella called Jason Hawk from Denver—he said he's pretty sure some rustlers might be headed toward the western edge of the J&L. Your pa is in that area. Anybody knows Jake Harkner can handle a few rustlers, but your mother is with him, so between that and whatever is in this message, we didn't have much choice but to come and get you.”

“Shit,” Lloyd grumbled. “Wait up!” he yelled down to them. He turned to Katie. “I'm sorry, but I'd better go see about this. And here you had things all set up for us to spend some time together.”

“It's okay.”

Lloyd saw the anxious look on her face, like the one she used to get when he had to ride away for days or weeks at a time as a marshal, never knowing if he'd make it back. “This is different, baby. It's just a few rustlers, and we have extra men. If my mother wasn't out there—”

“I understand. We'll pick up where we left off when you get back and the kids are sleeping.” She gave him a weak smile.

“Sure we will.” Lloyd hurriedly dressed, then strapped on his gun belt. Katie sat there wrapped in a blanket, and he leaned down to give her a quick kiss. “I love you, Katie-girl. I should have said it sooner.”

“And I love you. Be careful, Lloyd.”

“Hey, it's me and Pepper and Cole. I'll tell Vance to stay here and keep a lookout. We'll be fine. If there are rustlers out there, they will definitely regret trying to steal from us.” He put on his wide-brimmed hat. “And if Jake gets to them first, they won't live long enough to regret
any
thing.”

He scurried down the ladder and, needing a fresh horse, quickly saddled a roan gelding in a nearby stall. He led the horse to the door and removed the board that kept it closed, then mounted up and ducked his head as he rode out of the barn.

Katie stood up and hurried over to the loft door, staying to the side and out of sight.

“Did Jason say how many there were?” Lloyd was asking.

“Quite a few, maybe six or eight,” Cole answered. “Jason has rode all over this country, and he knows what looks right and what doesn't. He said this particular thing didn't look right, because he knows this time of year we'd never be herding cattle to Denver yet. Lord knows Jake can handle six or eight men on his own, but when your ma is with him, that might put a kink in things.”