“Don’t be, Mr. Lacey,” Lloyd told him. “My father is pretty touchy about his past and never feels like he deserves the good things that happen to him. I’m sure he’s grateful, but it’s just not his nature to take credit for anything. You three come on inside, and my wife and sister will fix you a bite to eat before you head back. There’s some damn good bread, and some leftover ham and potatoes.”
“Well, thank you!” John Carney held up the check. “We can discuss exactly how you want this money deposited—that is, if you trust us with all this money.”
“If I can’t trust Pinkerton men, who can I trust?” Lloyd told them.
The men laughed and Lloyd ushered them inside, then looked into the distance where his parents were walking toward the new barn. How many ways were there to tell a man he was forgiven…that he was worthy of the love and family he had now? Jake would never truly accept that.
He turned to go inside, only to see Evie also watching their parents walk away.
She looked at Lloyd with tears in her eyes. “I think it embarrassed him to get that reward,” she told her brother.
“Yeah, I expect so.”
Their gazes held, both of them knowing their father was actually hurting right now, fighting to stay out of the dark place that always followed him whenever something reminded him of his past.
Twenty-one
Jake kept an arm around Randy’s shoulders as he led her into the new horse barn. “You haven’t even been in here since it was built,” he told her. “I was afraid it would bring back bad memories from the night of the fire.” He stopped and looked down at her. “Do you want to see it?”
I see what’s in your eyes, Randy thought. Stay out of your own bad memories, Jake. “Yes,” she answered, not really sure of her emotions. She remembered the fire, remembered the horrible orange glow of it against the night sky, remembered seeing the shadow of a man run across her veranda and thinking it was one of the ranch hands…until Brad Buckley and those with him burst in from both the back and the front of the house. She remembered fighting them, remembered Ben and her grandsons trying to stop them, only to get beaten off.
She stopped at the entrance. “I think one of the worst memories is of how the boys tried so hard to stop those men…seeing them hit the boys…seeing the awful, helpless look in the boys’ eyes. I felt so sorry for them.”
“That’s why we let them come and help us rescue you. It helped them feel better about the whole thing.” Jake paused and pulled her close. “They saw me do some pretty awful things that day. I’ve talked with them about it.” He crushed her even closer. “Damn it, Randy, I don’t want them to end up like me. I hope they understand that. Everything is different now. A man can’t deal his own justice anymore.”
Randy hugged him around the middle, being careful of his wounded side. “Jake, they were raised entirely different from you. They know love and they know the Christian faith and they know right from wrong. They’ll be fine.” She leaned back and looked up at him. “And I’m glad you’re putting that money into Lloyd and Evie’s accounts, and some to Ben; but you do deserve it, Jake. How many men survive what you have survived in your lifetime? You’ve come so far. Everyone has forgiven you—even the law has forgiven you. You just need to forgive yourself.”
He shook his head. “Think what you want. I just can’t quite accept any of it. An ex-outlaw accepting a reward for bringing down men no different than he was just doesn’t seem right.” He led her farther inside the barn, where Rodriguez was raking out a stall. “Amigo,” Jake called to him. “Can you go do something else for a while?”
Rodriguez set the rake aside. “Sí, señor.” He smiled and nodded to Randy. “Señora, it is good to see you out here. It is a beautiful barn, no?”
Randy looked up at the two-story-high rafters, lofts running along both sides of the barn, everything held by huge pine beams. The building was at least twice the size of the one that had burned. “Yes, it is!” She looked up at Jake. “How many stalls are there?”
“Twelve on each side,” Jake told her. “We keep only the best riding and cutting horses in here, but we have some stalls to fill yet after losing so many horses in the fire. Lloyd will be looking to buy more when he drives the cattle to Denver.”
Rodriguez nodded to them and left, and Randy looked up at Jake again. “Jake, you aren’t going to Denver, are you? I think you should wait a year.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not going.” He led her past his own horse’s stall, and Outlaw whinnied and tossed his head. Jake reached out and petted the horse’s neck. “You’re glad to see Randy in here too, aren’t you, Outlaw?”
The horse nodded and shuddered.
Randy smiled and stroked the big animal’s black mane. “Seems like every animal around here is called Outlaw.”
“Thanks to the kids,” Jake told her. “I know that damn rooster in the henhouse sure earned the name.”
They laughed, and Jake took her arm and led her to another stall, one that had a name engraved on the gate. pepper.
“We figured we should commemorate Pepper in the new barn, so we had his name engraved on this stall. We’ll never use it for a horse. We put Pepper’s saddle, bedroll, and gear in the stall.”
“Oh, Jake!” Randy put a hand to her mouth. “Poor Pepper! He was such a loyal hand.”
“Yes, he was. I kept trying to go in and get him, but the fire was just too hot and burned too fast.” He turned away for a moment, sighing deeply. “Jesus, Randy, we should have known. We should have known.”
“You couldn’t have. When you hear your best horses whinnying in terror because they’re being burned alive, how can you think of anything else but trying to save them?” She touched his back. “It’s all right, Jake. We worked things out last night, and I’ve made up my mind that it’s over and I have to move on, just like Evie had to do. She told me once that part of the reason she managed to do that was for Brian. She had the best husband a woman could ask for, and he was so patient with her for so long. She realized she was punishing her own husband in a way, for something he didn’t even do. She was letting those awful men destroy something beautiful, and Brian didn’t deserve that. I thought about that after we talked, back in Boulder, and I realized I was doing the same thing to you. Our relationship was never so strained. I was missing how it used to be, just like you were. And last night…you have no idea what that meant to me.”
Jake turned around and pulled her close again, running his hands into her hair, which she’d left long this morning. For him? She knew he liked her hair down. “It wasn’t exactly a sacrifice on my part, Mrs. Harkner.”
She laughed lightly and kissed his chest.
He pulled lightly at her hair so she had to look up at him. “My God, Randy, do I dare believe I have you back? Two or three days ago, you couldn’t have joked about that.”
“I know. But when you actually listened to me and understood…” She felt the blood coming into her cheeks then. How ridiculous was it to feel embarrassed in front of the man she’d been intimate with for over thirty years? She laughed and put her face against his chest. “My God, Jake, it was like being with you for the first time. And at the moment, I am totally embarrassed.”
He kissed her hair. “Why? This is Jake—your husband—remember? And last night was beautiful. And everything we do is up to you, understand? I love you for the incredible woman you are, and I love making love to that woman. That’s all I need or will ever need from you.” He grasped her face and leaned down to kiss her gently. “You’re the air I breathe, Randy Harkner. These last few months have been the loneliest I’ve ever experienced, even though I was with you night and day. I never want it to be like that between us again.”
Randy searched his dark eyes. “I’m so sorry, Jake.”
He put fingers to her lips. “Don’t say that. Just stay with me this way. We’ll take it a day at a time,
and whenever you need something I don’t seem to understand, you tell me, all right?”
“You have to promise to do the same.”
Jake grinned. “I don’t generally leave any doubt about what I need or want.”
Randy laughed. “I have to agree with you there.”
“Yeah? Then what if I told you I’d like to take you up in the loft and make love to you the old-fashioned way?”
“I’d say no, because those Pinkerton men are still here and we really should go visit with them.”
Jake frowned. “Boring. I like my idea better. I’ve never felt closer to you.” He nuzzled her neck. “And I’ve learned something new and sexy about you.”
“Jake Harkner, we are not going into that loft. You will have to save that for tonight. Right now, we are going back to the house.” She ducked from under his arms, but Jake caught her and held her gaze as he gently gripped her.
“You really okay now?” he asked her. “Tell the truth. That’s what you always ask of me, Randy.”
She put a hand over his. “I’m really okay.”
“And who do you belong to?”
“Jake Harkner.”
“Has anyone else ever touched you?”
“Just my first husband, and that was thirty-four years ago, before he went off to war never to return. And we were kids. Then along came Jake Harkner, who saved me from dying and who has loved me better than any man on earth could love me. There will never be another Jake Harkner in my life.”
Jake searched her eyes. “Remember that when a bad memory tries to destroy what we have, Randy. Open your eyes and look at me and remember I’m the one touching you. Don’t slip away from me again, baby.”
“I won’t.” Randy studied him in a shaft of sunlight. “As long as I have you and as long as you understand, I can handle it.”
He smiled sadly. “Nobody understands better than me what it’s like to battle bad memories, so you talk to me when you need to talk about it. You’ve always told me that, so I’m telling you the same thing.”
Randy’s eyes teared. “All I have to do is open my eyes and see you, and it all goes away.” She came closer again and leaned up to capture his mouth with her own. “You’re a beautiful man, and the best lover a woman could ask for.”
Jake grinned. “This isn’t the way to talk me out of throwing you over my shoulder and carrying you up to that loft, Mrs. Harkner.”
Randy ducked away again. “We have company, Mr. Harkner.” She backed away. “We will finish this tonight.”
Jake folded his arms. “Save your energy.”
Randy laughed lightly and hurried out. Jake watched after her as he lit a cigarette. He had his wife back, all right, and seemingly better than ever. He thought he knew everything about her…had her all figured out. He took a deep drag on the cigarette. “Women,” he mused, shaking his head before following her out of the barn.
Part Three
Twenty-two
July 10, 1897
Gretta adjusted the bodice of her purple ruffled dress as she went to the door, looking down to be sure her breasts were exposed nearly to the nipples. She opened the door and smiled at the man standing there. He was decent-looking and relatively clean but had a mop of brown hair that stuck out from under a wide-brimmed hat, and he looked like he hadn’t shaved for a few days. He wore a clean shirt with its long sleeves turned up, a tie that looked like it had seen plenty of wear, denim pants that were a bit too big on him, and scuffed black boots. He nodded to her. “Ma’am? Might you be Miss Gretta MacBain?”
Gretta smiled. “I might be. Who are you?”
“Can I come inside?”
Gretta shrugged. “Sure.” She stepped back and let him in, ushering him into the parlor. Two of her girls were there drinking with their own customers, one sitting on a man’s lap and giggling when he reached inside her see-through negligee.
“Make yourself at home, big fella,” Gretta told the stranger. “Would you like a drink?”
“No thank you, ma’am,” he told her. “I ain’t here for that, or for…you know…the other.”
Gretta almost laughed at his shy attitude. “Have you ever been to a bordello before?”
He looked her over, his eyes showing more curiosity than desire or bad intent. “No, ma’am. I came at somebody’s request—with a message.”
“Oh? Who?”
He looked around, noticing the woman in the see-through negligee was practically naked now, her customer putting his hand between her legs. The woman made a moaning noise, and the stranger looked back at Gretta. “Can we go someplace else? Where there ain’t no other women?”
Gretta smiled, moving up close and touching his face. “My room?”
“No, ma’am. Maybe the kitchen or somethin’ like that, as long as there ain’t no other women around.”
Gretta thought it an odd request, but she shrugged and indicated he should follow her. She led him to the back of the house and to the kitchen table. “Have a seat,” she told him. “Sure you’re not thirsty?”
“Yes, ma’am, I’m sure.” The man sat down. “A Mrs. Loretta Sellers sent me.”
Gretta instantly sobered. “Loretta!” She sat down across from him, suddenly self-conscious of her nearly naked breasts. She put a hand over her cleavage. “What happened? Is my daughter all right?”
“I don’t rightly know, ma’am. I brought a message from Mrs. Sellers that she said would be important to you. She said you’d probably be open for business, and she was afraid to come in the evening like this. She asked me to come on account of I’m a man, actually a single man, so she said it would be okay.”
Gretta’s heart fell. She’d struggled to keep her worry over her daughter buried deep so she could continue with her business. She’d considered the fact that someone in Mexico might ask for some kind of ransom money, so she’d been saving up as much as possible. Lord knew no decent person in Denver would help her with any of this.
“What’s the message?” Gretta asked. “And where on earth did you come from? That sounds like a Texas accent.”
“That’s on account of I am from Texas, ma’am. I have a horse ranch down there, almost clear to the border in Brownsville, where right now it’s doggone hot.” He removed his hat and set it on the table. “It’s a lot cooler here in the Rockies.”
“No small talk, mister. What’s your name, anyway?”
“Otis Clark, ma’am. I recently took care of a man down at my place by the name of Jessie Valencia, afore he died. He said—”
“Died!” Gretta gasped the word. “From what?”
“From a couple of bullet wounds, ma’am. It happened across the border. He made it as far as my farm, and I took him in. Afore he died, he said he’d gone to Mexico to look for a young girl that was kidnapped. Them that took her put up a big fight, and he got shot when they chased him to the border. That’s all I know, except he said to tell Mrs. Sellers here in Denver that he wasn’t able to get the girl but that he knew where they keep her, so if Mrs. Sellers wants to hire somebody else to go get her, that might help.”
Gretta closed her eyes against tears. One of the girls came into the kitchen and told her one of her regular customers was there to see her, and she snapped at her. “Not tonight, Tillie! Maybe not ever!”
“Gretta! You okay?”
“No!” Gretta wiped at her eyes. “Have one of the other girls take care of him. I know who it is, and he won’t care.”
“Sure.” Tillie left, and Gretta wiped at her eyes with a cloth napkin lying on the table.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry to upset you. I came all the way up here on account of there’s no phones down in Brownsville and on account of it involved a young girl, so I figured this Mrs. Sellers was the mother, and I thought such news ought to be delivered in person. Took me about four days to get here. If it weren’t for trains and st
agecoaches, it would have taken me a lot longer, but I have to get back to my farm, you know. Anyways, when I told Mrs. Sellers, she was really bad upset, and she said as how I should come here and tell you on account of you’re the girl’s real mother.”
Gretta nodded, swallowing back more tears. “I truly thank you for taking care of Mr. Valencia and making such a long trip, Mr. Clark. I—would you like a cold beer or something?”
Otis nodded. “Well, I said I wasn’t thirsty to be polite, but a cold beer does sound good. That would be real fine.”
Gretta felt removed from her own body as she got up and went to the icebox. “It’s true. That girl is my daughter, Mr. Clark,” she explained. “I had her at a real young age and…well, I couldn’t raise her in a place like this, so I found a good Christian couple to adopt her. That was Loretta Sellers and her husband, of course. Mr. Sellers died, and my daughter took it hard. She reached those years where girls get all starry-eyed over the first handsome man who comes along, and one did.” She brought a bucket of beer to the table and poured some into a mug. She breathed deeply for self-control. “Did Mr. Valencia say anything about the kind of men who came after him?”
Otis drank down some beer, then pulled a folded piece of paper from his shirt. “He wrote down the name of a…well…a brothel…just across the Rio Grande. It’s wrote in Spanish, but he says it means House of Heavenly Women. He said it was a place where they…well, where they break girls in for wealthy customers. They keep the prettiest ones, and I guess your daughter was one of those. They take the rest of them someplace else. Mr. Valencia, he was mostly Mexican himself, so he fit right in, but when he tried to help the girl escape, they got found out and he had to run. He ended up gettin’ shot. He got infection at my place, and there was nothin’ I could do. He died in awful misery. I felt real sorry for him.”
Gretta put her hands over her face, feeling like she might vomit. “I wanted so much more for my daughter,” she lamented. “I can’t explain how I ended up like this, Mr. Clark, and it doesn’t matter now. What matters is getting my daughter out of there. I just fear too much damage has already been done, but I have to try.” She wiped at her eyes again. “I’ll pay you whatever it cost you to get up here. And it helps so much to have the name of that place.”
The Last Outlaw Page 17