“Yes, ma’am. I thank you for payin’ me back. I don’t know how you’ll get her out of there, ma’am. It would take an army. The whole thing is actually headed by a white man, not a Mexican, name of Sidney Wayland. According to Mr. Valencia, a lot of men guard that place. Men good with guns.”
I know someone who might be able to beat those odds. “I just have to…find someone…maybe several men this time.”
“Mrs. Sellers, she said you knew of somebody who might be able to do it—some gunfighter, I think she said.”
Gretta poured herself a beer. “He used to be a gunfighter. Then he was a lawman. He helps his son run a big ranch now.” How can I possibly ask Jake to do this? “I just don’t know if he’s even able,” she told Clark. “He was hurt about a month ago stopping a bank robbery in Boulder. For all I know, he’s in a bad way now.”
“Well, ma’am, it don’t hurt to find out. Maybe once he knows it’s a young girl needin’ help, he’ll do it for you. Is he the type?”
Gretta smiled sadly, remembering the day she told Jake that Mike Holt had visited her brothel and was violent with her. Jake actually cared that she might have been hurt. How many men truly cared about a prostitute? And who knew brothels and prostitutes and this whole sordid life better than an ex-outlaw who’d lived in that world? And he was half Mexican and spoke the language. Besides that, Jake Harkner knew what it felt like to have a daughter in trouble.
“Oh, yes, Mr. Clark, he’s the type.” She picked up the folded piece of paper.
La Casa de Mujeres Celestiales.
Jake would be able to read it. She stuck the paper into her cleavage. I’m so sorry, Jake. I don’t know where else to turn.
Twenty-three
“The biggest secret is to squeeze the trigger, Ben,” Jake told his adopted son. “Don’t jerk it. If you squeeze it, it’s less likely the gun will jerk from your target once you fire it. And don’t doubt yourself. You have to see that target in your mind, not just with your eyes. And don’t forget those are hair triggers, so when I say squeeze, it won’t take much. Keep your trigger finger against the side of the gun until you’re actually ready to shoot, or that thing might go off before you want it to.”
“I’m nervous,” Ben answered, sweat trickling down his temples. “This is the first time you’ve let me or anybody else besides Lloyd touch one of your guns.”
Jake lit a cigarette. “You might as well start learning. I promised when each child and grandson turned thirteen he could fire one of these. And by the way, I told Lloyd to pick up a good .45 for you while he’s in Denver. That’s your birthday present.”
Ben lowered the gun a moment. “Thanks, Pa!” Love moved into the young man’s blue eyes, which warmed Jake’s heart. Ben was eight years old and being beaten with a belt when he’d found him. His own memories of such beatings had triggered a fury that sent Jake barreling into Ben’s father. He’d grabbed the belt from the man and begun using on him until Lloyd had finally managed to pull him off. After that, the sonofabitch actually agreed to give up his own son to Jake, as though the boy meant nothing to him. Jake legally adopted Ben, and the boy had been part of the family ever since. The now tall, strong young man was much bigger than his age would imply. “You deserve your own handgun, Ben, but only if you handle it the way I’ve taught you. And it won’t be long before you’ll be able to handle a lot of other things to do with running the J&L. I’m proud of you.”
“What about me, Grampa?” Eight-year-old Little Jake looked up at him with eager anticipation, a boy straining to be a man like his father and his uncle Lloyd and Jake. Jake noted a tiny spark of jealousy in the boy’s eyes.
“Little Jake, you have enough stubbornness and determination in you to outdo all of us some day. I have absolutely no doubt you will be one hell of a co-owner of the J&L. You know good and well where you stand with me.”
“I wanna be just like you—big and strong and good with guns.”
Jake smoked quietly, looking at the distant fence railing where several cans had been lined up for Ben to shoot. “No, Little Jake, I assure you that you don’t want to be just like me. And I don’t want you using a gun for the wrong reasons, understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re better off fashioning yourself after your father, Little Jake. Brian Stewart is just about the all-around best man I’ve ever known. Your father has an inner strength I don’t possess, and he’s wise and patient. Those things are important. Me, I don’t have much control over my temper, and I’ve done things no man should be forgiven for. Like Lloyd says, the Good Lord and I will have plenty to talk about when I stand before Him, if He even gives me the chance. He just might send me straight to hell without a hearing.”
Little Jake smiled. “No, he won’t, Grampa.”
I’m pretty sure He will, Jake wanted to answer, but Little Jake worshipped the ground he walked on, and he got upset easily whenever Jake talked about the Hereafter. The kid didn’t want to think about life without his grandfather in it, but some day he’d have to. “Ben, go ahead and shoot. Soon as we’re done here, we’ll head out to Evie’s Garden and check fences. Maybe we’ll even catch sight of Lloyd and Stephen and the rest of the men who went on the cattle drive. Lloyd should be coming back any day, as long as he didn’t have any trouble in Denver.”
The thought of Lloyd going to Denver brought pain to his heart, remembering what happened there last summer. It was only by God’s miracle his son was alive now, and he’d never forget the feeling of seeing Lloyd shot down point-blank.
“He can get there and back a lot faster now ’cuz he can load cattle onto train cars, huh, Grampa?” Little Jake asked.
“Yup. Our days of long cattle drives are pretty much over, Little Jake, now that we can catch a train from Brighton to Denver. It’s a little more expensive, but it saves us in extra pay and in food for all the men.”
The days of old-fashioned ranching were changing, and Jake wondered how long it would be before he’d have to let some of the men go…and before the government came along and set up so many new rules about grazing that Lloyd might have trouble making money on this place. He figured he wouldn’t be around to see it, but he damn well hated the thought of not always being here to help his son and the rest of the family.
Ben wiped at sweat with his shirtsleeve, then raised the gun, supporting his wrist with his left hand. “It sure is heavier than I thought,” he told Jake as he took aim.
“Remember what I told you, Ben. Decide which eye you’ll use and always practice with that same eye. Always. Consistency is important.”
After a few seconds, the young man squeezed the trigger. Jake’s gun boomed, and a can went flying.
“I hit it!” Ben exclaimed. He raised the gun again and fired, this time missing. “How in heck do you draw and fire it so fast, Pa? And you always hit your target.”
“Just a lot of practice over the years.” Jake took the gun from him and holstered it. “When Lloyd gets back with your own gun, you can start practicing with that. The best way to get better is to practice with the gun you will always use. Get used to the feel of it and whether it shoots high or low. These guns are adjusted to true sights.”
“Show us, Grampa!” Little Jake asked. “Practice now!”
“Little Jake, you know I don’t show off with these things.”
“Just once, please? Draw your gun and shoot the rest of those cans.”
“Those cans are pretty far away, Little Jake,” Ben told his nephew.
“Not too far for Grampa, I’ll bet. Come on, Grampa. Show us.”
“You’ve seen me shoot, Little Jake, last summer when those ranch hands gave us trouble, and again last winter.” When we all went to rescue Grandma.
“That’s not the same. Those men last summer were up close, and last winter you were already shooting back and forth. We just want to see you draw and shoot down
all those cans. Show us how you could shoot down those bank robbers while they were holding Grandma and Tricia right in front of them!”
“I suppose that’s the only way to shut you up, isn’t it?”
Little Jake giggled. “Yup.”
“Step away, then.” Jake switched guns so the one on his right hip would be fully loaded. “This can get expensive, Little Jake, so this is the last time. In fact, I might start making my own cartridges with the spent shells. The price of bullets keeps going up, and I don’t like wasting them.”
The boys stepped back, and Little Jake covered his ears. It took all of two seconds. Jake drew and fired in such rapid succession, Little Jake couldn’t count the shots. Six cans went flying almost at the same time. The boys stood there with their mouths open.
“Pa, you didn’t even aim,” Ben commented, shaking his head.
“I didn’t have to, not with my eyes anyway. Remember what I told you about seeing your target in your mind?”
Ben shook his head. “I’ll never be able to do that.”
“Sure you will. But until you’re sixteen, I need you to promise me that you’ll never practice or mess around in any other way with your new .45 unless I’m around, got that? If I catch you using it alone or showing it by yourself to Stephen and Little Jake or anybody else, I’ll take it away, and you’ll be eighteen before you can use it again.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You can hunt with our 30/30. I just don’t want you messing with a handgun.” Jake began reloading his six gun. “Too many men have had too many accidents with handguns, and if you wear one, it tends to start fights. Take it from someone who knows.” Jake noticed Randy coming toward them. It struck him then how much weight she’d gained back in just a month. She was close to her old, perfect self, round in all the right places, yet slender in the waist. Life hadn’t been this good between them in a long time, and he looked forward to getting back to her after a couple of days of riding fence with the boys. Nights in that big bed they shared had become extremely pleasant, and she was beginning to enjoy being as intimate with him as he’d always been with her. He holstered his gun as she came closer.
“Are you teaching these boys how to be outlaws?” she teased.
“I’m teaching them how to shoot at outlaws,” Jake answered.
“Well, then, you’d better be careful, or they’ll be shooting at you.”
The boys laughed.
“Mom, I shot Pa’s own gun! He let me try it once,” Ben told her. “And I hit a can with it!”
Randy folded her arms. “I’m not so sure I like that idea.”
Jake tossed his cigarette, stepping it out. He walked up to Randy and moved an arm around her. “What are you doing out here so far from the house?”
“I just wanted to see you once more before you leave with the boys for a couple of days. You know I hate it when you go away.”
Jake caught that whisper of the frightened woman again. “There are plenty of men left here to watch over you and Katie and Evie, and Brian is here too. He’s gotten pretty good with a gun himself, thanks to plenty of lessons from me.”
“Yes, well, he isn’t you. Brian is a fine and brave man, but he’s better at fixing gunshot wounds than causing them.” Randy moved her arms around him and looked up at him. “You’ll come back as soon as you can, right?”
“I will. And you’d better have a good supply of your famous bread ready when I get here.” He leaned down and kissed her, and Little Jake giggled while Ben looked away. “I want you and Evie and Katie and the babies and little girls to stay together at the main house, all right? The men know what to do. You’ll have plenty of protection.” He read her thoughts, hated the fact that she’d come so far but still was afraid to be alone at night. “Cole will sleep right downstairs on the couch, and you can have Button and Sunshine sleep in bed with you. Those two little imps will do so much jabbering you won’t have a chance to think about being by yourself, because you won’t be, understand?”
Randy put her head against his chest. “I understand.”
Jake wrapped her in both arms and lifted her feet off the ground. “You sure feel a lot better in my arms, Mrs. Harkner. I finally have something more to grab on to.” She looked up, and he planted a long, deep kiss on her mouth.
Little Jake laughed again. “Grampa! Old people don’t kiss!”
Jake laughed in the middle of the kiss and stopped, kissing Randy’s eyes. “They sure as hell do, and by the way, who are you calling old?”
“You are!” the boy answered.
“Don’t make me come over there and show you how wrong you are, Little Jake. I’ll throw you all the way over to those cans if you call me old again.”
“Oh, I know you’re still strong, Grampa, but old people aren’t supposed to kiss.”
“Some old people kiss a lot,” Jake answered before planting another kiss on Randy while the boy laughed again. He set her on her feet and Randy pulled away, also laughing. She kept hold of Jake’s hand.
“Are you saying I’m old too?” she asked Little Jake.
The boy shrugged. “Yeah, but you don’t look very old at all, and you’re the prettiest older lady there is. You’re almost as pretty as Katie and my mom.”
“Almost?”
“Well, they’re kinda younger.”
“And you’re kinda in trouble,” Jake told his grandson. “Remind me to teach you the proper way to talk to a woman. You keep up this kind of talk when you get older, and there won’t be a young woman in all of Colorado who will want to kiss you.”
Little Jake wiped at his lips. “I don’t care. All I care about is ridin’ good and shootin’ good and learnin’ how to run the J&L.”
“Well, those are good goals, Little Jake,” Jake answered, keeping his arm around Randy. “But some day you’ll be wanting to be good at a few other things.”
“Will you teach me?”
Jake and Randy laughed, and Jake hugged her close. “Nope. Those are things you’ll have to learn on your own. Don’t worry, though. It will come to you naturally.” He swung Randy around and kissed her once more. “Go on back to the house. I’ll watch till you get there. We have to get going.”
“All right.” Randy touched his chest. “Be careful, Jake.”
“Who shot those robbers down with hostages right in their arms?”
“You did.”
“There you go. You know damn well I can take care of myself, and all we’re doing is riding fence for a couple of days. Go on with you so we can leave.”
Randy reluctantly let go of him, watching his eyes for a few seconds as she walked backward.
“Hey, woman, who do you belong to?” Last night they’d done a good job of messing up the covers of their big bed.
“Jake Harkner,” she answered.
“Every beautiful inch of you. Now get going.”
Randy smiled and turned away, hurrying back to the house. She’d no more reached it than Rodriguez came charging down the hill toward the homestead, riding like a maniac. The Mexican’s horse actually stumbled, and Rodriguez went flying, tumbling down the hill along with the horse.
“What the hell?” Jake mounted up on Outlaw, telling the boys to stay put. He rode hard to meet up with Rodriguez, who thankfully didn’t seem to be hurt. The short, stout ranch hand was getting to his feet. Jake dismounted to help him up.
“Fuego! Hay un incendio!”
“Slow down, Rodriguez! A fire? Where?”
“En el Jardin de Evie! Toda la hierba, está en llamas! No lo puedo apagarlo!”
“Evie’s Garden?”
“Sí!” Rodriguez took a deep breath. “It is as I said. All the grass, it is on fire! Lloyd is there now, with Stephen. He and the men, they were riding home and saw it—other ranchers are there also! They say it is that farmer, Brady Fillmore, who started the fire
! Someone saw him setting the fire, and they are going to hang him! Your son, he say to come and get you first to be sure you agree!”
“Jesus!” Jake climbed back onto Outlaw. He turned the horse and rode back down to the boys. “Mount up and follow me—now! There’s a fire at Evie’s Garden!” He turned and charged up the hill. “Go tell the women!” he shouted to Rodriguez, who was helping up his horse and checking for injuries. “Tell them not to worry, there are plenty of men there! And tell Katie that Lloyd is back!”
His voice drifted into the wind as he headed at a full gallop toward Evie’s Garden. Ben and Little Jake charged behind him on their horses, already packed and saddled for their planned trip with Jake.
Jake prayed the whole damn valley hadn’t burned. The spring and summer had been so hot and dry; that grass they’d been saving was all they had for an emergency.
Twenty-four
Jake finally slowed down. Outlaw was a big horse and fast. The boys had fallen too far behind, so Jake dismounted and waited for them to catch up. Outlaw shuddered and shook his head, sweat flying off his neck. The boys caught up, and Jake told them to rest their horses.
“We’ll never make it if we ride these mounts until they drop,” he told them. He looked toward the southwest. The J&L was so big that they wouldn’t make it to Evie’s Garden until tomorrow morning. The huge, treeless lay of the land to the south was barren except for grass—and what should have been good grazing grass—but it was so dry Jake decided not to even light a cigarette.
“Look there,” he told the boys, pointing to what looked like smoke on the horizon. “That must be it.”
The boys dismounted and came to stand beside him.
The Last Outlaw Page 18