Love's Sweet Revenge Read online

  “Not to an innocent person,” Peter answered, rising.

  “All people are innocent until proven guilty,” Prescott shot back.

  “Mike Holt served time for being at Dune Hollow,” Peter reminded the judge.

  “And he was let go early because there was no proof he actually participated in violating Evie Stewart!”

  “The man bragged about it to Gretta MacBain! Bragged about it! He went so far as to admit he blindfolded the woman first!”

  Jake stood up so fast that his chair fell over. “Get my daughter out of here—now!” he roared.

  “No!” Evie rose. “Let me say something, Judge Carter.”

  The prosecutor threw up his hands, and the judge sighed, running a hand through his hair. “State your name, please, for the record.”

  “Evie, don’t,” Jake said softly.

  Evie met his gaze. “I have to.” She left her seat and approached the judge’s bench. “I am Evita Louise Harkner Stewart, named after my beloved grandmother, Evita Ramona Consuella de Jimenez, who was murdered in front of my father when he was only eight years old—by his father.”

  Jake pushed his way past Peter and walked up to his daughter. “Evie, stop this,” Jake told her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

  “I’m okay. The judge should understand what you’ve gone through to become the good man you are now.” She faced the judge the whole time she spoke. “My father is a better man than most anyone else in this room. I can tell you myself that Mike Holt was one of the men who violated me, because I remembered his voice. When you go through what I went through, you remember things like that!”

  Brian got up and rushed to her side. “Come on, Evie.”

  “No, wait!” She stood rigidly facing the judge. “The only reason they couldn’t prove Mike Holt was one of them is because my father wouldn’t let me testify. He knew back then that I couldn’t handle it, and he loves me too much to put me through that. But I’m stronger now, and I’m telling you that if I could have testified, I would have told them Mike Holt was one of them, which means he would still be in prison. The night of the Cattlemen’s Ball, Mike Holt came up to me and threw it all in my face, telling me how much prettier I was without a blindfold over my face!” She wavered a little, and Brian grasped one arm while Jake took hold of the other.

  “Evie, please,” Brian begged.

  She ignored him. “Lloyd saw what was happening, and he ran over to get Mike Holt out of there, and Holt pulled a gun on my brother, who was unarmed! Holt shot Lloyd in cold blood, and if my father hadn’t gotten to him in time, he would have murdered Lloyd for certain, because he had his gun pointed straight at Lloyd’s head for a second shot! Your first two witnesses failed to mention that. And you want to blame my father for shooting that man? What would any father do in a situation like that?”

  She broke into tears and stumbled. Brian took full hold of her. “Come on. You’ve had your say, and you need to lie down.”

  “But I have to know what they decide,” she wept.

  “You will know one way or another. I’ll not take no for an answer, Evie.” Brian turned with her to leave, but she stopped to hug her father. Jake embraced her.

  “Go on. Do what Brian tells you, Evie. I’ll be all right.”

  “What if this is the last time I get to hug you?” she sobbed.

  “It won’t be. Please go, Evie. It will be easier for me if you aren’t here.”

  Randy quietly wept, and a few women in the crowd could be heard sniffling.

  “Yes, you should leave Mrs.…Stewart, is it?” the judge asked.

  “Yes,” Brian answered. He glanced at Jake. “We’ll be at the hotel.”

  Jake nodded, fighting an urge to strangle Prescott.

  “I want everyone else to sit down where they belong,” the judge ordered. “What just happened is far beyond protocol for this hearing, and I’ll have no more of it.”

  On his way out with Evie, Brian took Little Jake’s hand to take him with them, but the boy jerked away. “No! I wanna be with Grampa!” he insisted, breaking into tears and running over to Prescott, holding up a small fist. “You leave my grampa alone!” he ordered through gritted teeth.

  Soft laughter filled the room. Little Jake started to run to Jake, but Prescott grabbed his arm. “You’d better go back and sit where you belong, son,” he ordered Little Jake.

  Little Jake tugged, and Prescott squeezed tighter.

  “Oh my God!” Randy whispered.

  “Get your hand off my grandson!” Jake spoke the words calmly but in a low growl.

  Brian and Evie turned and froze in place.

  The room became completely silent again.

  Prescott looked up at Jake and paled at the look in his eyes.

  “You have about ten seconds to let go of that boy,” Jake warned, “or I’ll forget every rule set in this courtroom! My grandson went through enough back at Dune Hollow! Nobody lays a hand on any child related to me! Let go of him!”

  Randy reached over and grasped Jeff’s arm, squeezing it almost painfully. “Don’t do it, Jake,” Jeff heard her whisper.

  “Prescott, I have a feeling you’d better let go of that boy,” the judge advised.

  Right now you could hear a piece of dust drop in this room, Jeff scribbled with his left hand while Randy continued to grip his right arm.

  Prescott let go of Little Jake and straightened. The boy ran to his grandfather and threw his arms around Jake’s hips because he wasn’t tall enough to reach his waist. His eyes still on Prescott, Jake picked up his grandson. The boy burst into tears and hugged him around the neck.

  Brian and Evie breathed a sigh of relief. “Come on,” Brian told his wife softly. “Let’s hail a cab and get you back to the hotel.”

  “I should stay,” Evie protested again.

  “No. Little Jake is fine with his grandpa. I want you out of here.” He gently but forcefully led Evie out of the courtroom.

  Jake finally carried Little Jake back to his chair beside Randy. “Little Jake, you can’t do this,” Jake said quietly. “What did I tell you?”

  “I don’t care!” the boy cried. “I’m not gonna let them take you away.” He clung so tightly to Jake that Jake didn’t have the heart to make him let go. He sat down, and Randy reached over to stroke Little Jake’s dark hair.

  The judge pounded his gavel again. “Mr. Harkner, I believe I’d like you to take the stand. I have a few questions, and then we’ll get this over with, but you need to pry that little boy from around your neck first. I promise no one else in this room will touch him.”

  Jake patted Little Jake’s back. “Little Jake, you have to let go, understand?”

  “No!”

  “Do you love Grandpa?”

  “Yes.” His slender body jerked in a sob.

  “Then let go, Little Jake. Sit on Grandma’s lap and be good. If you want to help me, you have to let go.”

  The boy pulled away, wiping at tears on his cheeks. “Are they gonna shoot you?” he sobbed.

  Jake smiled through tears. “No, they won’t shoot me. I promise.”

  “They should give you your guns. Nobody can hurt you when you wear your guns, Grampa.”

  The room rippled with a mixture of soft laughter and women sniffling.

  “Well, sometimes they can, but we’ll talk about that later. Come on now. Mind what I tell you.” Jake moved the boy over to Randy, who took him onto her lap and wrapped her arms around him, kissing his hair.

  “It’s okay, Little Jake,” she told him, looking at Jake with tear-filled eyes. People whispered when Jake leaned over and kissed her, then kissed Little Jake’s cheek. He turned to glance down at a note Peter had written. “Our best witness,” it read.

  Jake grinned and nodded.

  “I’m sorry I blurted that out about Evie,” Peter
told him aside.

  “Couldn’t be helped.” Jake walked around Peter and up to the stand, where the bailiff swore him in. “I always speak nothing but the truth,” Jake answered. “Anyone who knows me knows I don’t waste words or try to hide anything.”

  A ripple of whispers moved through the crowd, and the judge pounded his gavel again. “Let it be known that I want no further questions from either the prosecutor or from Attorney Brown,” he told everyone. “I actually just have a couple of questions, and we’ll be finished here. I’m sure Jake’s wife is getting tired, and his son is obviously not completely healed yet and needs to rest, so I do not intend to drag this out.”

  He pounded the gavel again. “Jake, take a seat.”

  Jake sat down and breathed deeply for self-control, noting the warning look in Peter’s eyes. Little Jake’s shivers from the aftermath of crying tore at his heart.

  “Mr. Harkner, you do admit that the night of the Cattlemen’s Ball, you held Mike Holt down on the floor, put your own gun to his head, and pulled the trigger. Is that right?”

  Jake kept his eyes on Randy. “That’s right.”

  “Can you tell us in your own words why you did that?”

  Jake scanned the crowded room then. “Because the man deliberately upset my precious daughter, who he’d viciously violated four years ago. Then he turned on my son, who was unarmed, and shot him point-blank in the chest. He even said to Lloyd, ‘How does it feel to be shot when you’re unarmed?’ He’d hurt both my daughter and my son in the worst ways. A man can take only so much, and I’m a man who protects his own. It’s my nature to go after anyone who dares to harm those I love. My family is my lifeline, my sanity, and my strength. And when I thought Lloyd was dead, all I could think about was that Mike Holt had even taken away my chance to tell my son I love him before he…died. And I truly did think he was dead.”

  Jake zeroed in on Prescott then. “Holt pointed that gun at Lloyd again, aiming to shoot him in the head and make sure he was dead, but I got there before he could pull the trigger. For a moment I considered holding him there like everyone thinks I should have done, but he pulled back the hammer of his gun to shoot Lloyd again. I grabbed his wrist and pushed up so he couldn’t shoot him. His gun went off and went through my left shoulder. I’ve been in a lot of gunfights, and you have to think lightning fast. I knew that if I fired while Holt was standing, my bullet could go through him and into a bystander, so I shoved him to the floor first. And yes, again I considered not pulling that trigger, but all I could think about was the hideous things he’d done to my daughter—and that he’d just shot my son and deserved to die…so I shot him because he’d taken my son from me.”

  Randy watched Jake pause to take a deep breath. He swallowed and shifted restlessly, a sure sign he was trying to get through his testimony without going into a rage. She tried to tell him with her eyes to stay calm.

  “In that moment it didn’t matter if I hung for shooting Holt. I pulled the trigger because I thought I didn’t have anything left to live for. Once I realized what I’d done, I knew I might be wanted at least for questioning, but my son-in-law had told me Lloyd was still alive. I couldn’t risk being carted off to jail because I knew Lloyd would need me in the worst way, which is why I threatened to shoot anyone who tried to take me away from him. All those years we rode together back in Oklahoma, I always had his back. This time I’d failed him, and I can hardly live with that.” He quickly wiped at his eyes and leaned back in the chair. “He went through so much pain we had to hold him down several times, and all I could think of was…it should have been me lying there. Me! I’m the old one. I’m the father. Sons aren’t supposed to…die…before the father. I’m the one who deserves to die like that…not my son.”

  He cleared his throat and shifted in the chair yet again. He glanced at the judge.

  “You know the rest. My family is my only reason for existing. I’ve protected them with my life for years. It’s who I am, and there is no changing it. And now all any of us wants is to get the hell out of Denver and back to the J&L and back to normal living…” He stared absently at his hands. “If anything can be called normal when you live with Jake Harkner.” He glanced at Lloyd. “It’s not an easy name to carry, but my son has brought a lot of pride and respect to the name.”

  “You’ve done that yourself, Pa,” Lloyd told him.

  The judge pounded his gavel again.

  “Judge Carter, can I point out just two things before you make your decision?” Peter spoke up.

  Carter took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. For a moment there was nothing but silence in the room. “Make it quick,” he finally told Peter.

  Peter rose. “Judge, in Guthrie, I managed to get over three hundred signatures on a petition asking a judge in St. Louis to shorten Jake’s original sentence to serve as a marshal in the most god-awful and dangerous country you can imagine. All three hundred of those people agreed Jake had done an excellent job of keeping the peace in the Guthrie area, and believe me, in a lawless place like Oklahoma was then, that wasn’t easy. He risked his life over and over, and it cost him and Lloyd a lot of time away from their families. They ended up making enemies that continue to hunt them and try to make trouble for them, which is just what Mike Holt was doing. The point is, three hundred people admired and respected Jake enough to help me petition the judge in St. Louis to shorten his sentence and let the man live in peace. That’s all Jake and his wife want—to live in peace now.” Peter stood there hesitantly, then finally sat down. “Thank you, Your Honor.”

  The judge leaned forward then, pausing to weigh his words before finally speaking up. “Ladies and gentlemen, this has been the most unusual hearing I have ever held, unprecedented in some of the things that happened and were said here today, completely disorderly, at times humorous, and at times far from humorous. Through it all I’ve sat here and watched the love this man’s family has for him, and in return, I’ve sensed the devoted, passionate side of a man whose reputation defies all of that. I believe he is just a man who loves his family beyond measure, but he is also a man who needs to remember we live in a new era of law and order, and that we deal with justice in a different way from the kind Jake Harkner and his son dealt as marshals in Oklahoma. I am giving him the benefit of the doubt only because he grew up in different times…totally lawless times. He was raised knowing only brutality and the outlaw way. For a man to overcome a past like that says a lot about what really lies inside. He has shown himself to be a good family man, a devoted husband, a loving father and grandfather, and a friend to those who earn his respect and those who respect him in return.”

  He turned to Jake.

  “But you have to understand, Jake, that in this day and age, a man can no longer live just by the gun. There are laws and men who are appointed to carry out those laws, and regular citizens have to abide by those laws. Is that understood?”

  Jake glanced at Randy and Little Jake. “The safety of my family is a different matter.”

  “I understand that, and I don’t believe that you are any kind of danger to the general public. You even considered that when you held Mike Holt down so your bullet wouldn’t injure a bystander. That sounds strangely contradictory, I know, but it’s a fact. And overall you are well liked by most people and can be quite affable and productive most of the time. The fact remains that you should be punished.”

  The judge hesitated, while everyone waited with baited breath to hear his decision.

  Twenty-eight

  Randy thought she might faint from terror over what the judge would say next. She held Little Jake tightly, her gaze locked on Jake, who in turn watched her lovingly, telling her with his eyes how much he loved her, how much he would miss her if he was going to jail…or worse.

  Judge Carter shuffled a few papers before finally continuing. “Jake, were you aware that you were not supposed to be carrying a gun at that
Cattlemen’s Ball?”

  Jake sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Sir, if you were me, would you go anywhere without protection?”

  The judge just shook his head. “Probably not, but that’s not what I asked you. Did you carry a hidden weapon at that ball when you knew no one was supposed to be armed?”

  Jake looked at Peter, who nodded that he should reply truthfully.

  “Yes,” Jake answered.

  “And for that I fine you ten dollars.”

  Jake looked at him in surprise as mumbles and whispers moved through the crowd. Randy sat up straighter, still clinging to a quivering Little Jake. No one could figure out if the very affordable fine was a good sign or not. Jake glanced at Peter, who just smiled.

  The judge reached down and took something out from under his desk, setting a gun belt and ivory-handled guns on top of the desk. The holsters were decorated with white stitching with the letters JH. He reached underneath the desk again and took out yet another gun belt and guns. Jake recognized the mahogany handles of Lloyd’s guns, and the fancy scrolled L on the holsters.

  “Now, Mr. Harkner, these, as you can see, are your guns and Lloyd’s. Right now they are not loaded.”

  “Well, sir, I hope whoever unloaded them was very careful. Those guns have hair triggers. You could practically fire them with a baby’s breath.”

  More whispers and a few chuckles.

  The judge closed his eyes and sighed. “Yes, believe me, they were very careful.” He shoved both holsters toward the end of the desk where Jake was sitting. “I said you needed to be sentenced, Jake, so my sentence is another one hundred dollars for threats against the public and against our fine police department the night of the shooting. And for what I consider manslaughter, a year in jail.”