The Last Outlaw Page 3
“Ole Jake could have a good lay today if he wanted,” one of the others joked.
They laughed again as Tucker dealt a new hand.
“He has a beautiful wife,” Till commented. “Just beautiful. If I had a wife who looked like her, I wouldn’t need any whore on the side.”
“I think he is a bad man with a good heart,” Sonoma called to them from behind the bar.
“Is there such a thing?” Clete quipped as he carried the tray of empty glasses back to the bar.
“I think so.” Sonoma glanced toward the doorway. “And his name is Jake Harkner.”
Three
Jake lit a cigarette and stepped farther out into the street. A motorized buggy passed by, startling two nearby horses. They whinnied and pulled at the reins that held them to hitching posts. The buggy suddenly backfired, and one of the horses screamed and reared up, tearing completely away from the hitching post. The animal ran off, spooking another horse, which reared and nearly tossed its rider. The rider cursed at the driver of the motorized buggy and told him to “get that thing out of here!”
Jake just shook his head. Things had changed dramatically since his younger days. And through all the changes in a growing West, and what he and Randy had been through, the love they shared had never changed…until now.
He wished he could kill Brad Buckley over and over again for what he’d done to Randy. He’d like to see the man come back to life in screaming pain, his privates still blown off, and then he could torture and kill the man on a daily basis, just for the satisfaction of seeing him beg.
He looked around for Randy, always worried if she was all right. He’d urged her to go shopping on her own, without him by her side. Earlier, she’d gone into a hat shop a few doors down with Teresa and their precious little granddaughter, Tricia.
He watched the hat store and saw no sign of them at the moment, but when he looked farther up the street, he spotted something far in the distance that didn’t look right. He squinted, adjusting his hat to keep the sun out of his eyes. What he saw was just a cloud of dust, the kind stirred up by stampeding horses or cattle. Some rancher probably bringing in a few steers to sell in town.
He turned his attention back to the hat store and finally spotted Randy coming out with a hatbox in her hand. She looked around anxiously, and it broke his heart to see her almost childish panic. Damn it, Randy, how can I help you get over this? People didn’t understand why she’d become so skittish, or why she hated letting him out of her sight. No one knew about last winter…or the men who’d died for what they’d done. No one would ever know. Brad Buckley and those with him had simply disappeared from the face of the earth, and Jake took great pleasure in picturing them screaming from pain as they lived in the tortures of hell.
He stepped farther into the street so Randy could see him. Teresa had hold of Tricia’s hand. When Randy spotted him, he nodded to her, and she smiled, looking relieved. She hurried down the boardwalk toward where he stood.
Jake stepped back up on the boardwalk and watched her lovingly. Did the woman ever age? Lord knew he’d put her through enough that she damn well had a right to be totally white-haired and shriveled up—yet at fifty-one, she was as pretty and well preserved as any thirty-year-old, but for being so thin. He’d always admired her blond tresses and those mysterious eyes that were sometimes green, sometimes blue, but over the last few months, he’d lived in fear she’d get sick and die. What the hell would he do without her?
“New hat?” he asked when she reached him.
“Yes. You don’t care, do you?”
“’Course not.”
“I’m going to the bank with Teresa. She has something to take care of there for Rodriguez. Do you care if… I mean… Can I take more money out of our account? I saw a dress I just love, and that fund-raising fair is coming up.”
“Take whatever you need,” he told her before she finished.
“You’ll go to the fair with me, won’t you? It’s a fund-raiser for that new luxury resort Boulder wants to build—some kind of place for people to come and listen to concerts and readings from the great novelists and noted speakers and such.”
Jake took hope in the fact that she wanted to go at all. “I’ll go.”
“They will even have preachers come. I’ll bet Evie would love that. I’d really like to go, but I’d rather you were with me, even if Evie and Katie and everyone else goes too.”
Jake smiled, sad inside at the plea in her eyes and the way she nervously rattled on. “I said I’d go, Randy.” How many times had he been compelled to remind her he was right here and she was safe, especially nights when she clung to him, insisted that he never leave the house at night, and sleep with his arms around her? “Lloyd is pretty much running things on his own now,” he added, “and I’m getting a little old to wrestle down steers. This is our time, remember? I’ll do whatever you want to do.”
Randy blinked back tears. “I’m sorry, Jake. I know you didn’t even want to come into town—”
“Stop,” he interrupted. “There’s nothing I like more than being with you.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Besides, I like it when we get away from the ranch. Tricia can stay with Teresa tonight again so you and I can be alone.”
Two women who were walking by had seen the quick kiss and heard his remark. They whispered and reddened as they hurried away. Randy put a hand to the side of her face. “Honestly, Jake, you shouldn’t say those things in front of people.”
Jake took a cigarette and match from a small pocket inside his jacket. “Hell, it gives them something to talk about.” He paused to light the cigarette. “And last night wasn’t bad, was it?” He smiled for her.
“Jake!”
“I enjoyed it. Didn’t you?”
Randy sobered. “But you were upset with me afterward.”
He drew on the cigarette and took it from his lips. “Concerned, baby. Not upset. I just want you to be happy.” He glanced past her to keep an eye on the street.
“What’s wrong, Jake?”
He met Randy’s gaze again. “What do you mean?”
“How well do I know you? You look troubled.”
He sighed, taking another drag on the cigarette. At the same time, there was hope in that little glimpse at the real Randy—the one who knew him like a book and read his every mood. “Nothing important. I had a few words with Brady Fillmore in the saloon, that’s all. He’s gone now.”
“Oh, that awful man! He’ll get himself hanged by the cattlemen someday, that’s what.”
Jake had to laugh at the flicker of her old spirit. “Wouldn’t bother me any.”
“What did he do? What did he say?”
Jake smiled and kissed her cheek again. “It doesn’t matter. I think he’s left town.”
Randy handed him the hatbox. “Will you hang on to this?”
He took it from her and set it on a nearby bench. “I’ll watch it, but I’m not going to be caught holding that thing.”
Randy smiled, grasping his free hand. “You love me, don’t you?”
“I’ve told you a thousand different ways.” Why does she always ask that? The old Randy never had to ask. She knew. He squeezed her hand. “It’s good to see you walking around town without me.”
She grasped his wrist and pressed his hand tighter against her cheek. “I’m trying, Jake.”
“I know. Just quit asking if I love you. This is Jake Harkner you’re talking to. I loved you the minute I laid eyes on you back in that dry goods store in Kansas, and I’ve never stopped loving you.”
Randy looked around warily, still clinging to his hand. “Did you buy more peppermint? You always have peppermint. What if we decide to…in the morning…you always have peppermint.”
“I already bought some. I have a whole bagful in my jacket pocket.” He pulled out a brown bag to show her. “See?”
“Can I have a piece now?”
Jake smiled. “Well, we don’t want to waste it for all the times we’ll need it in the mornings.”
“Jake! Honestly!” She smiled. “Just one piece? It makes me feel close to you.”
Jake opened the bag and broke off a small piece of peppermint stick. He stuck it between her lips. “Now, go join Teresa at the bank.”
Randy blinked back unwanted tears as she took the candy from her lips for a moment. “I’m sorry, Jake. I’m scared all the time, and that’s not me. I hate this. And I don’t like taking that sleeping potion Brian gives me.”
“Our son-in-law is a good doctor, and he loves you like his own mother. He just wants you to be able to sleep, and so do I.”
Randy nodded, unable to speak because of more tears that wanted to come. Jake set his cigarette on a railing and grasped her face with both hands. “Randy, you’re the bravest woman I’ve ever known. You’ll get over this. And right now you’re in Boulder, and it’s a peaceful, law-abiding town, which means I’d better not stay too long,” he joked. “If anything goes wrong, it’s bound to involve me.” He kissed her forehead. “Now get going. And go buy that dress you were talking about.”
Randy looked up at him with that “help me get over this” look he’d seen far too often.
“Go.”
She gave him a weak smile, then put the peppermint back into her mouth and left. Jake watched her walk, hated the way her dress hung a little too loose. He decided he was going to get stricter with her about eating better. Another motorized buggy chugged by.
They had electricity at the ranch now, and in town, more and more men drove things with motors rather than rode horses. In town, people had telephones, and Randy was hoping they could get that, too, at the ranch.
The best thing about change was that finally all the ugly haunts and rotten, leftover enemies from his past were gone…all dead and buried, and that was fine with him. The sickening part was that his own wife had ended up paying some of the price. He watched her walk into the bank, then turned to take another look at the storm of dust in the distance. He squinted, still not quite able to figure out what it was. His concentration was interrupted when four women marched up to him and drew his attention away.
“Mr. Harkner, we have a request!”
Frowning, Jake turned to the women, all dressed very prim and proper, with hair pulled back so tightly he wondered if it hurt. They wore small hats of different designs, gloves on their hands, and long-sleeved dresses with necklines that looked like they might be choking them.
Jake tipped his hat. “Ladies?” He picked up his cigarette from the railing and took another drag. “What can I do for you?”
They looked a bit flustered. Jake knew women well, and he didn’t doubt this bunch felt he was the worst sinner who ever walked the face of the earth. They likely saw him as nothing but a gunman who’d been raised by whores. Maybe they thought he still ran with women like that. After all, he was standing in front of a saloon, and everyone in town knew what went on upstairs. He didn’t doubt they prayed for his soul in church on Sundays, so what in hell would such women want with the likes of him?
One of the oldest stepped forward, her huge bosom straining at the bodice of her black dress. “Mr. Harkner, we…we need your services.”
Jake took another long drag on the cigarette and leaned against a support post, thinking of all the very embarrassing answers he could give to that poorly worded statement. He imagined they felt very nervous standing in front of the saloon, and he knew they didn’t even realize the connotations of what they’d said. He forced back an urge to burst out laughing.
“My services? What kind of services would those be?”
“Well, we—”
Laughter came from inside the saloon, and the four women glanced at the doorway and seemed flustered.
Jake tossed his cigarette into the dirt street. “You ladies shouldn’t be standing in front of a place like the Silver Saddle.” He put his hand to the big woman’s waist, and she gasped an “oh my!” as he escorted her and the others farther away to stand before a hardware store. “Now, what can I do for you?”
One of them blushed, and they twittered nervously. Jake braced himself against a wooden railing, watching the women. But now that cloud of dust in the distance was getting closer. He took a quick look and realized it was men on horseback. More of his old senses came alert, outlaw and lawman alike.
“Mr. Harkner, I am Hilda Conklin,” the bigger woman told him. “My husband is the minister at the Methodist church a few blocks down. This lady beside me is Betty Stable, a banker’s wife. Linda Tackas is a teacher, and Sara Baker, on the end there, is a lawyer’s wife.”
They smiled, Sara Baker twisting a pair of gloves in her hands. Hilda continued her speech. Jake found himself somewhat distracted by her bosom, wondering if the bodice of her dress might split open at any time. Even the upper sleeves looked stuffed and ready to burst.
“Mr. Harkner, perhaps you have heard about Chautauqua?”
Jake nodded. “I have. Sounds like a rich man’s project and not something that interests me.”
“Boulder is becoming quite popular for its wonderful weather, and we’ve become a civilized town, with an opera house and nice restaurants and churches and such. Soon all the streets will be bricked. We’ve realized we are the perfect place for another Chautauqua. These resorts started in New York State, but have been springing up all over the country, you know.”
Jake frowned. “You chasing me out of town because a fellow like me doesn’t belong in your fine community?” He leaned closer. “I promise I’m a law-abiding man.”
The four women laughed and blushed again.
“Quite the contrary, Mr. Harkner!” Mrs. Conklin fanned herself, her bosom straining at her dress again.
Jake wondered if the woman was deliberately wearing a dress that used to fit her in an effort to convince herself she hadn’t gained weight. He gave them one of his best smiles, the one that always undid Randy when he thought there was something to forgive. “What is it you want, ladies?”
“Well, we are having a fund-raising fair in two weeks and are thinking of activities we could put on to raise as much money as possible. We thought perhaps… Well… Would you be willing to put on some kind of a show?” She glanced at the famous guns he wore low on his hips. “With your guns—either a shooting contest or something to show people how fast you can draw those”—she hesitated, glancing at the guns again and actually backing away, as though they might jump out of their holsters and attack her—“those guns and perhaps shoot bottles off a fence or something like that…something for the men. It’s hard to find something at these things that interests the men. These fairs always turn out to be more an event for women, and we thought—”
“No.” Jake glanced at the riders again, then turned back to address the women. “Ladies, I appreciate your hard work, and I hope you come up with a lot of ways to raise the money. I’ll even help if I can, but I’ll not use these guns like a circus act. I’ve taught my son and grandsons that guns are not entertainment. They’re something to be taken very seriously.”
“Well, we…we just thought—”
“You thought wrong.” Jake tipped his hat. “Please don’t be upset. I genuinely understand your intent, ladies. My wife and I will be here one more night—staying at the Gold Dust Hotel. If you come up with some other idea—”
The riders came closer. Jake watched them head toward the bank. “Jesus!” He pushed at the women.
One of them screamed, “What on earth?”
“Get inside the hardware store and stay there! I think the bank’s being robbed!”
One of the women gasped and another screamed as they hustled inside.
Jake ran toward the saloon. Randy! She couldn’t take something like this. She was still too fragile!
And little Tricia was with her! He barged into the saloon. “Get the sheriff!” he ordered the card players. “Now! I think the bank is being robbed!”
The men looked at one another as Jake ran back outside.
“Sonofabitch!” Till Medley swore. “Harkner’s out there! This should be quite a show!”
“Goddamn if we won’t get the chance to see Jake Harkner in action!” Bill Tucker exclaimed.
Clete ran out the back door to find the sheriff.
Four
Nine riders charged recklessly through the town, causing people in the streets to dive out of their way. One man jerked his little boy aside just before one of the horses would have trampled the child. The horses’ hooves spewed clods of dirt and clouds of dust around them. Jake ran toward them, pulling off his jacket and tossing it down as he hurried to catch up with the riders. Peppermint sticks went flying.
“Everybody get inside!” Jake yelled as he ran, pulling one of his guns. A few women screamed, and several men hesitated, not sure what was happening. Jake noticed a young girl standing transfixed as the men rode by. He grabbed her up and ran with her to the boardwalk, half tossing her to her father. That one move cost him some time, and already five of the riders had dismounted and charged into the bank. The other four remained mounted and ready to ride, holding the horses.
A shot rang out. Jake felt the jolt in his lower left side. People were screaming and running as he went down.
“Shit!” he swore. He rolled behind a watering trough, then got to his knees and shot one man off his horse. He grunted against pain and forced himself to concentrate. The sheriff was running toward the bank, and Jake yelled at the man to stay down.
Another shot rang out, and the sheriff went down. Jake let go of his bleeding side and pulled his other gun out, then charged away from the trough, guns blazing. The three men waiting out front dropped before they even got a chance to fire their weapons again. Their horses scattered, one of them dragging its rider down the street with his foot caught in the stirrup.