Do Not Forsake Me

by Rosanne Bittner

  Randy appeared a bit stunned. Jeff could tell she’d had no idea Jake had been thinking about these things.

  Peter finally spoke up. “Jake, what does all this have to do with me?”

  “I want you, or some lawyer you know who’s good at criminal justice, to petition the judge in St. Louis who sentenced me and ask if my sentence can be reduced. He gave me five years. I’ve already served close to two. I want to ask for the sentence to be reduced from five years to three. I want to take my whole family and get out of this goddamned, dusty, lawless hellhole of a territory and hang up my guns for good. The only firearms I want to use are my rifle or my shotgun for hunting. I want the whole family to come with us. Randy and I will be buried there, and Lloyd and Evie will take over, and someday they’ll lie beside us, and then the grandkids will take over. I want that grave site on a hill under a great big tree, and it will be beautiful and green and peaceful. I want peaceful, Peter—a peaceful life. Will you do that for Randy? She deserves to have some peace at last.”

  “Jake, I’m fine.”

  “No, you aren’t fine. God knows you’ve had enough stress in your life to kill you off, and now this. Maybe knowing there is light at the end of this tunnel will help you fight whatever is wrong now.”

  Peter looked at Randy with obvious love and concern. “That’s the second time Jake has mentioned something being wrong, Randy. What is it? Is it serious?”

  “I…no. I mean, I don’t know. It’s personal.” She looked at Jake. “Jake, you never told me all this before.”

  Jake sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “You’ve put up with enough. You’ve been through too many years of hell, thanks to me.”

  “I’ve been loved like most women wish they were loved!” Randy answered sternly. “I’ve been treasured and respected and adored. I’ve been given two beautiful children and two wonderful, loving grandsons. You did that!”

  Jake reached for a cigarette from a pocket inside his vest. “I did a lot of things.”

  “Jake, where is all this coming from?”

  “You know where it’s coming from. But this thing about moving to Colorado is something I thought about long before we found out you could be…” He hesitated. “Jesus,” he muttered, stopping to light the cigarette.

  “Randy?” Peter asked.

  “Look, she needs surgery for something that could be cancer,” Jake told him. “We won’t really know until she sees Ed Rogers.”

  Peter closed his eyes. “Oh, for God’s sake.” He leaned back in his chair again. “I’m damn sorry. Damn sorry—for both of you. I know what you share, and neither of you deserves this.”

  Jake looked at Peter as he took his first drag on the cigarette. “Do you think there’s a chance I could get this marshal job over with sooner?”

  Peter still watched Randy with great concern. He moved his gaze to Jake, and Jeff could see the continuing challenge there. “I can try. I know that you were cleared of what you went to prison for, so what’s the excuse the judge used to sentence you to this in the first place? Why didn’t he just set you free?”

  Jake smoked quietly for a moment. “You name it, I’ve done it,” he finally answered. “Except for abusing women. That never happened. But just the fact that I rode with the Kennedy bunch and they robbed and murdered and they kidnapped and raped a woman once was enough to put me away for life. The judge felt that because I’d gone unpunished for all the other crimes I’d committed, I should still serve some time, but he also saw an opportunity to fill the need for federal marshals in the West. It’s a lousy job most men don’t want. Since I’d turned my life around and had a family, the judge decided I should be free, but that I should still do time, so he sentenced me to something that would let me be with my family but still use my expertise with guns—for good instead of bad. He figured since I once ran with outlaws, I’d know how to track down the same kind of men.”

  “Well, he was certainly right about that, wasn’t he?” Peter wrote on his tablet again. “Who’s the judge?”

  “Robert Mitchell. He’s in St. Louis.”

  Peter made a few more notes. “I’ll get the paperwork done for the book and the trust, but I’ll see about petitioning for a lesser sentence first. That’s more important.” He glanced at Randy, who was quietly crying. “Are you all right, Randy?”

  She nodded. “I just…didn’t know Jake was thinking about this. I don’t want to get my hopes up about Colorado.”

  “Giving you some peace is all I think about,” Jake told Randy. He sighed deeply. “Are we done here?” he asked Peter.

  Jeff glanced at Peter, who watched them a moment with obvious pain in his eyes. “I think so—for now. Go ahead and take Randy home. In fact, there is a buggy tied outside with a pinto horse rigged to it. It’s mine. I’m leaving soon for a meeting with some people outside of town. Have Jeff use it to drive you two back to your house. It’s five blocks away and you need to get off that leg, and your wife needs some rest. Jeff can take you home and bring the buggy back to me.”

  “Thank you, Peter,” Randy said softly, wiping at her eyes.

  Jake nodded to him. “I appreciate anything you can do about the sentence. If it means paying a higher fine, I’ll pay it. I still have money in a bank in Denver from when I raised horses in Colorado. We used some of it to help support Randy and Evie when I went to prison, but there is enough left to make a new start, and Lloyd has quite a bit of his own money. I know he’ll help pay the fine if necessary. And he’ll want to go to Colorado with us.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Peter told Jake. “I have a few connections that might help.”

  “Thanks for whatever you can do for Randy.”

  Peter folded his arms. “Believe it or not, part of me wants to do it for you too, Jake.”

  Jake looked him over. “I’ll let myself believe that, and I thank you for trying. We’ll wait to hear from you. Lloyd and I have to head out on rounds in a week or so, and I don’t want Randy working for you while I’m gone.”

  “Jake—” Randy started to protest.

  “I’m not saying that to be rude.” Jake kept his eyes on Peter. “No offense, but it’s because I want Randy to rest and spend time with Evie and Katie and the grandsons.”

  Peter nodded. “I understand. I have no problem with her taking care of herself. I just hope things turn out for the better rather than worse.”

  Jake drew on the cigarette and put it out in the ashtray on Peter’s desk. “Yeah. Well, I can’t live without her, so it has to turn out for the better.” He rose and took Randy’s arm, moving his own arm around her as she walked around her chair to join him. She thanked Peter again and left with Jake.

  Jeff looked at Peter Brown. “Do you need anything more from me?” He actually felt sorry for the man. Peter looked devastated, and Jeff realized that helping Jake get out of being a federal marshal so he could move back to Colorado meant Peter would never see Randy Harkner again, something that had to hurt. But the man would do it—for Randy—which showed Jeff just how much Peter loved her. And hearing she was sick had apparently hit him hard.

  Peter cleared his throat and straightened, trying to hide his feelings. “You drive those two home first. Then you can come back and give me the particulars on yourself. See if you can get Randy to write down Jake’s father’s full name and bring it to me. I have no doubt she knows what it is but was afraid to say it out here today.”

  “Sure.” Jeff started out, but Peter called to him. “What do you know about Randy’s health…this…surgery she might need?”

  Jeff shook his head. “I just heard about it myself this morning. I don’t know the details.”

  Peter frowned. “I know Ed Rogers pretty well. Maybe I can learn something from him.”

  “Maybe. I’m sick about it myself, Mr. Brown. She’s a wonderful woman.”

  “She certainly is. In all hi
s years of living the outlaw life, Jake struck pure gold when he met Randy. Nothing he ever stole or earned can match what he found in her.”

  “I have no doubt he is completely aware of that, sir. I think she’s real worried about what he would do if he lost her. So is Lloyd.”

  Peter rubbed at his eyes. “I understand Jake Harkner more than you know, Jeff, and that’s the hell of it. The man loves as passionately as he hates, and there is no competing with him.” He looked at Jeff sadly. “Do you know what I’m talking about?”

  Jeff nodded. “I think I do, sir.”

  “Yes, well, it’s just kind of understood. It’s just…there…a fact that I can’t deny, and Jake damn well knows it. He has every right to put a gun to my head for thinking like I do, but out of respect for Randy, he won’t do that—although I can’t be real sure of that if I step over the line. Which I would never do anyway, because I know it’s hopeless, plus I respect Randy too much.” He eyed Jeff directly. “That’s between you and me, not something for that book of yours.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Go on now and take them home.”

  “Yes, sir.” Jeff walked out, his head spinning with all the angles he could use for his book. This was turning into a far more complex project than he’d dreamed it would be. A love story. A story of the outlaw way. A story about what could cause a young boy to kill his own father. A story of tragedy and triumph and gunfights and secret feelings and stashes of money and everything that made a damn good book.

  He hurried out and climbed into the two-seater buggy Peter had told them to use. Jake sat in the backseat with his arm around Randy, who rested her head on his shoulder. Jeff got the horse moving and headed for Jake’s house. On the way, they passed a flatbed wagon going the other way. Hash Bryant was driving it, and Brad Buckley lay in the back of the wagon. Hash looked darkly at Jake as the two vehicles passed each other.

  No, this thing with the Buckleys and the Bryants is not over, Jeff thought. He glanced at Randy. She had closed her eyes and apparently didn’t notice Hash Bryant, but Jake…Jake did.

  Twenty

  “I don’t know what to do, Katie. Everything is a mess.”

  Katie curled up against Lloyd, kissing his cheek. “I wish I knew what to tell you. Brian said we have to think positive about this.”

  Lloyd stroked her hair. “Dr. Rogers verified what Brian figured. She’s got some kind of growth. And he isn’t even sure he or any doctor in Guthrie can operate on her, so now she and Pa have to decide what to do next. He has to head out the day after tomorrow, so it will have to wait. And that scares all of us, because we don’t know how long is too long to wait. Dr. Rogers said it’s best to operate soon to have a chance of getting it all.”

  They’d decided to lie in bed together after sending Stephen off to school, knowing they had only today and tomorrow before Lloyd had to leave again.

  “I’d go alone this time so Pa can be with my mother, but if the judge finds out he’s not doing his job—”

  “Lloyd, surely the judge would understand.”

  “Maybe, but with Pa asking for a reduced sentence, he can’t take any chances, and with Marty Bryant out there somewhere with a new bunch of men behind him, Pa would never send me out there without him, and I’m not letting him go without me. And with Evie carrying and having to watch after Little Jake, Brian doesn’t want to leave her, plus she’s had a lot of morning sickness this time, so she’s been pretty tired and weak.”

  “Could there be a doctor in Edmond who could operate? That’s not so terribly far, and if you and Jake get back soon enough, Jake could take her there.”

  “Brian and Ed Rogers are looking into it.” Lloyd sighed and pressed her closer. “It isn’t just my mother or the timing. It’s my pa. I know him, Katie, and I don’t even want to think about what he’ll be like if my mother dies. If that happens, I’ll actually lose both of them, because there will be no reaching my father.”

  Katie kissed him softly. “Whatever happens, I’m here, Lloyd.”

  Lloyd pulled her close, relishing the feel of her nakedness, the sweet warmth of having just made love. “I wish I didn’t have to leave you, Katie. While I’m gone I want you to stay close to town at all times, understand? Your parents will be here tomorrow to stay awhile so you won’t have to be alone. Once Pa and I find Marty Bryant, we can relax more.”

  “How long will you be gone this time?”

  “It’s hard to say. Some of it will be routine. We do have to serve Jessie Buckley those death certificates and see if we can find out anything about the whereabouts of Marty Bryant. The paperwork is piling up, and if the judge thinks Pa is shirking his duties, he might not even consider a reduced sentence.”

  “I’d love to move to Colorado with you and get away from all this. I thought I could handle it better than this, but I’m already wondering how long I can live this way.”

  There it was—the little wedge that kept trying to come between them. Katie was having a hard time accepting the situation, but then, so many unexpected things had come up since they married. It had been difficult to settle into any kind of normal routine. Most women didn’t have to worry about their husbands facing constant violence, but Lloyd was having trouble with Katie always being afraid. Something was still amiss. Deep down Lloyd felt as though she wanted him to choose her…or his father. Beth would never have asked that of him, but then Beth understood better all that had happened after Jake went to prison. She’d been through the worst of it with Lloyd and fully understood his reasons for always wanting to be close to Jake.

  He still missed Beth, and he felt so guilty for it. He couldn’t blame Katie for that.

  “Katie, when I get back I’ll tell you all of it—the truth about Pa’s past, all right? He doesn’t just love me like any normal father loves his kid. He needs me. There is a fine line there, between sanity and just…going crazy. That’s why I’m so concerned about him losing my mother. She’s the anchor that keeps him from drifting away to a really bad place.”

  “I want to understand, Lloyd…all of it.”

  “And you have a right to know, so it doesn’t keep coming between us.” Lloyd stroked her hair. “I promise things will get better once we find Marty Bryant and end all this…and once we move to Colorado.” He moved on top of her, kissing her lightly, then stiffened when someone knocked at the door. “Damn,” he grumbled.

  “I knew we shouldn’t do this in the middle of the morning!” Katie lamented.

  Lloyd moved off the bed and pulled the covers over her. “Stay there.” He quickly pulled on a pair of long johns.

  The knock came again and he yelled out, “Just a minute!” He grabbed his denim pants and yanked them on. “Whoever it is, I’ll tell them you don’t feel well. Maybe it’s just Pa or my mother.” He hurriedly buttoned his pants and grabbed a shirt and started pulling it on as he hurried out and closed the door. “Who is it?” he called.

  “Lloyd, it’s me—Brian. I have someone with me.”

  “Jesus God Almighty,” Lloyd grumbled. He ran his hands through his disheveled hair and pushed it behind his ears. Evie had recently told him he was starting to look like an Indian, but Katie liked it long and he hated sitting for haircuts, so he just kept letting it grow. He opened the door, his shirt open and his feet bare. He frowned when he saw Peter Brown standing there with Brian.

  “I’m sorry, Lloyd, but we need to talk to you,” Brian told him.

  Lloyd shook his hair back again and stepped aside. “Come in.” He closed the door after them. “Come into the kitchen. Katie isn’t feeling well and I don’t want to bother her.”

  Brian and Peter followed him into the kitchen.

  “Sit down,” Lloyd told them. “There is still some coffee on the stove. Either one of you want any?” He poured himself a cup.

  “No, thanks,” Brian told him. “I’m really sorry to bother you.
I know you and Jake have to leave day after tomorrow.”

  “It’s all right.” Lloyd set his cup on the table and then took a tin of Lone Jack cigarettes from the top of a cupboard. He took out a cigarette and lit it with a stove match.

  “What’s going on?” Lloyd asked as he turned a kitchen chair around and straddled it, leaning forward on the chair back.

  Brian glanced at Peter, then back to Lloyd. “We just want your opinion about something. Don’t fly off the handle. Just listen. If you love your mother, you’ll agree we need to do this.”

  Lloyd stiffened. “Do what?”

  Brian rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Peter here knows of an excellent surgeon in Oklahoma City. He talked to Ed Rogers about him, and Ed agreed that if your mother has cancer, this man is the best there is. And Peter has to go to Oklahoma City on business. He also knows a lawyer there who would be willing to go on to St. Louis to petition Jake’s judge for a reduced sentence. So—”

  “He wants to take my mom with him to Oklahoma City?” Lloyd immediately stood up. “This is my dad we’re talking about! Do you really think Jake Harkner is going to let a man who’s in love with his wife take her that far away? Alone?”

  “Lloyd, think about it! This can’t be put off without possibly endangering your mother’s life—more each day! Who better to go with her than someone who loves her just as much as your father does?”

  The remark brought fire to Lloyd’s eyes. He rose, fists clenched. “Did you hear what you just said?”

  “Lloyd, you know I’d never suggest this if I didn’t love Randy just as much as you do,” Brian told him boldly.

  “Nobody loves my mother as much as Pa loves her!”

  The room hung silent as Peter laid a long sheet of paper on the table, filled with signatures. “Look at this. I’ve been going around town for days gathering signatures on this petition. It says your father deserves to have his sentence reduced because of his outstanding service and because he has a family and this is endangering their lives. The petition says he’s a good citizen and well liked. I worded it myself, and I’ve been working night and day on this. I have three hundred signatures, Lloyd. Three hundred. That should show you how much I respect Jake and how much a lot of people in this town respect him. I’m doing everything I can to get that reprieve. I want the judge to see this. This should show you my good intentions.”