Jake bent over, keeping his hands behind his head as he pressed his face against the ground. “God forgive me,” he sobbed. “I had to do it. I had to do it. I didn’t mean to kill Santana. It was an accident! The bullet went right through my father and into her. I didn’t know anything about guns then!”
Cole realized Jake probably hadn’t even heard him. He sighed and stepped back, feeling like crying himself. Everybody knew the story. Everybody knew killing his father had been a weight around Jake Harkner’s neck his whole life, and the source of all his lawlessness. He wished Randy were here. She’d know what to do, what to say to him. This was the dark, ugly side of Jake Harkner that no one but his closest kin could handle.
Cole walked back to the horses and took the reins, leading them up to the big hackberry tree to give them some shade. He sat down there and waited, letting the horses graze on some soft, green grass.
Their train had arrived that morning, and it was deep into the afternoon before Jake finally got to his feet and came up the hill. He dropped to his knees in the cool grass.
“This is where he made me help bury my mother,” he told Cole in a gruff voice, “after he beat her to death and then killed my little brother. They’re buried here together. I remember this tree. I was only eight then, but I remember it.” He breathed deeply, obviously still highly distraught. “I was forced to throw dirt on their faces. He didn’t even put a blanket over them first!” He brushed his hand over the grass. “I wanted so badly to be in there with them.” He wiped at tears on his face with his fingers. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe I found them. God, I need my family, Cole.”
“I know.” He’d seen Jake do some incredibly ruthless things to those who’d threatened or hurt his family. Now he understood why. Jake Harkner had lost all that was dear to him as a little boy, and he wasn’t about to lose what he’d found in his new family. This was the source of his fierce protection of those he loved. It was why he’d killed most of the men who’d so horribly abused Evie, why he’d blown Mike Holt’s head off in Denver after Holt shot Lloyd, why he’d gone after those who’d taken Randy and tortured Brad Buckley. Every time he did those things, in his mind he was probably defending his mother and brother and killing his father all over again. Pity the man who harmed any of them.
A few people had gathered at the bottom of the hill. They were pointing and staring. A man started up the hill. He looked like a lawman. “Hey, what’s going on up here?” he called.
Cole jumped up and headed down the hill to intercept him. “Don’t go up there, mister.”
“I’m the chief of police here in Brownsville, and someone said a man was destroying one of our landmarks. That’s destruction of public property! This is the house where Jake Harkner grew up.”
“That is Jake Harkner up there, mister, and the mood he’s in right now, you’d best leave and take those people with you. He’s in a killin’ set of mind, if you know what I mean. That man suffered mightily in that house as a child, and right now it’s best to leave him alone.”
The man frowned and backed away. “You get him out of here by morning.”
“I will. But he claims his ma and little brother are layin’ under the ground up there under that tree, and he was forced to bury them after his pa murdered them. I believe him. A man don’t forget somethin’ like that. Jake’s already been to see a mortician. I suspect he asked for a gravestone he’ll be wantin’ to put up there, so I suggest the city let the mortician put it there and leave it there. If I know Jake Harkner, he’ll come back to make sure it is, and he won’t be a happy man if it’s not there. When he gets in a killin’ mood, there’s not much anybody can do about it.”
The policeman scowled. “I’ll see what I can do.” He turned and walked back down the hill. Minutes later, he’d cleared out most of the onlookers.
Cole went back up the hill and poured some water from a canteen into his hat to water the horses, then led them to a grove of small trees on the other side of the hill, away from where people could see them. He took down his bedroll, made camp, and waited. Jake needed to be alone.
Sometime in the night, Jake came to the campsite and took down his own bedroll. He opened it and stretched out on it, then lit a cigarette.
“Coffee’s still hot,” Cole told him.
“Thanks.” Jake took a deep drag on the cigarette. “In the morning, I’ll have you return that sledgehammer to the mortician and tell him where to put the headstone I ordered. I’ll leave town the back way and wait for you. I’ve drawn enough attention. We’ll head on into Mexico. There’s a man down there who needs killing.”
The mood Jake was in, Cole had no doubt Sidney Wayland didn’t have long to live. “I’ll be ready.”
Jake smoked quietly, laying his head back on his saddle. “I’m trusting you with that girl, Cole. I’m staying behind to kill Sidney Wayland after we get Annie out of there, so it’s possible I won’t be going back with you.”
“Don’t be talkin’ like that, Jake. I ain’t leavin’ without you.”
“You do what you have to do to make sure Annie is safe. That’s all that matters.” Jake took a deep breath. “What happened here today needed to happen.”
“It’s okay.”
“I just want my mother and brother to be remembered. Someone should know they existed.”
“I can’t blame you there.” Cole wasn’t sure what else to say. “Your mother produced a fine son, Jake. I’m guessin’ she’s watchin’ and she’s happy you found her again and you’re honorin’ her this way. She’s happy for all the joy you’ve found in that family of yours. She’s probably with those grandbabies right now, thinkin’ how proud she is that they came from her blood. You remember it’s her blood in you and those young ones too—not just your pa’s.”
Jake felt for his mother’s crucifix under his shirt, something of hers he’d kept ever since she died. He’d hidden it from his father because he knew the man would try to sell it for whiskey money. He’d worn the cross next to his heart through all his outlaw years and all his married years, those awful years in prison, all of it. Lo siento, mi mater. Favor perdoname. Que Dios te acompane. He rolled to his side and fell asleep with his hand wrapped around the crucifix. He wished the town hadn’t buried his father all those years ago. He should have been stripped and left for the buzzards to feast on.
Forty-three
After destroying one of Brownsville’s “famous” landmarks, Jake figured he’d better get out of town a different way than using the main crossing point. He headed west first, keeping Outlaw at a slow walk along the Rio Grande as he waited for Cole to catch up.
By midmorning, the two of them headed across the Rio Grande in a more nondescript area. One Mexican soldier stopped them, asking their business.
“Venimos aquí para las hermosas mexicanas,” Jake told him, expressing his desire to find beautiful Mexican women.
The soldier grinned broadly. “Sí, aquí tenemos las mujeres más bellas!”
Jake smiled and nodded. “Entiendo que hay un sitio por estas partes que se llama La Casa de Mujeres Celestiales. Queremos encontrar el sitio.”
“Ah, sí!” The soldier pointed to the east. “Sur de Matamoros. Es una hacienda Hermosa.” The man grabbed his privates and laughed. “Te va costar mucha lana para una de esas mujeres!”
“Pagaré lo que sea.” Jake tipped his hat and rode off.
“What was that all about?” Cole asked when he caught up.
“I told him we were looking for beautiful women and would pay whatever it cost for the best. The place we’re looking for is just south of Matamoros.” Jake removed his hat and wiped at sweat on his brow. “I’ve been living in the Colorado foothills so long I’ve forgotten how hot it can get down here. I miss the J&L already.”
“You aren’t the only one.”
“Did you take care of the tombstone?”
&
nbsp; “Yes, sir.”
“If I don’t make it back, you make sure it’s there before you go home. Will you do that?”
“’Course I will.”
They rode silently for a good hour. “Sorry I went a little crazy yesterday,” Jake finally said.
“No apologies necessary. You did what you had to do.”
Jake halted Outlaw and lit a cigarette. “We’ll get to that brothel late afternoon. Best way to gain their confidence is to act like real customers, so you, my friend, get to roll in the hay with one of them, as long as she looks like an experienced whore. If they bring you some young thing shaking in her shoes, you ask for somebody else. Tell them you like a woman with experience. I won’t tolerate some unwilling young girl, even from you.”
“Shit, Jake, I’d never do that, and you know it. And just what the hell are you gonna do?”
Jake drew on the cigarette. “I’m going to ask for a virgin. If we’re real, real lucky, Annie’s still there and for some reason still untouched. They save girls like her for the highest-paying customer, and I’ll pay plenty. We’ll lay low for the night and take her out of there in the morning. Staying a while will help us gain their confidence, and making a run for it in the morning is better timing as far as the guards being alert. If we’re real lucky, we won’t have any trouble at all.”
“You’re gonna spend the night with her?”
Jake frowned. “Jesus, Cole, how else can I make this look real? It’s just for show—but first I have to talk them into it. I’m not touching her one way or the other, but for now I have to play the part, understand? Don’t pay any attention to anything I say. There’s no sense going into that fort of a hacienda like a lawman, which is probably what Jessie Valencia did. I’ll win their confidence as just a customer. And it’s going to take a lot of money to convince them to let me have her.” He looked at Cole and smiled. “Does this look friendly enough?”
Cole shook his head. “Jake, when you get in that dark way you have, no smile is gonna help. That’s the meanest, most murderous smile I’ve ever seen.”
A more genuine smile crossed Jake’s lips. “It’s the best I can do.”
“Well, you’d better use that special smile that makes women faint. That will work better.”
Jake actually laughed lightly and shook his head. “You just be ready tomorrow morning. Get up and get your pants on before sunup and leave with the packhorse. Wait a ways away from the place. I’m hoping they’ll let me flat-out buy her, but if I have to steal her, I’ll steal her. When I come charging out, it’ll be fast. If she comes out on her own, you grab her up and ride like hell straight for the border.”
“And you?”
“With any luck, I’ll be right behind you. Either way, it’s me they’ll be after.”
Cole turned away. “Shit.” His horse snorted and shook its mane. “Jake, if we get out of there with the girl, that’s all that matters. Why risk your life by killing Wayland?”
“Because he’ll keep doing this if I don’t. And I’ll kill Luis Estava if he’s there too. He won’t be charming any more innocent young girls into a brothel.”
“Damn it, Jake, you’re in such a bad way that you’re not thinking straight. You’re taking a big risk. You’re in Mexico, damn it! They aren’t real kind to their criminals and murderers down here, especially Americans.”
“Just do what I said and get the girl into the United States and keep going, no matter what, understand? No matter what! If they get hold of you and her, you’ll be dead, and she’ll be right back where she was. I promised Gretta I’d get her out of there.”
“And you promised your family you’d come back.”
Jake smoked quietly. “I’ll find a way.”
Cole shook his head. Jake Harkner was not in a family-man frame of mind right now. He was still hung over from his rage at his father, and he was using it to build himself up for getting Annie out of that whorehouse. He was Jake Harkner the outlaw, and no argument against anything he wanted to do would work.
Jake tossed his cigarette onto the hard ground and kicked Outlaw into a faster lope, heading east.
“Here we go, boy,” Cole said to his horse. He held on to the pack animal and jabbed spurs into his roan gelding, riding hard again to catch up.
Forty-four
Late afternoon brought a thunderstorm, welcome rain for parched ground and browning grass. Lloyd walked out of the new barn and looked up at dark skies. He’d felt uneasy ever since yesterday. What are you up to, Pa? He ached to be with his father, worried if Jake had found anything from his past, and what it would do to him if he had. Once in an outlaw frame of mind, there was no stopping him, and Jake Harkner didn’t always think straight when he was like that.
He saw another fancy buggy coming over the rise toward the homestead. It couldn’t be Gretta. She’d gone back to Denver only six days ago…to wait. And there couldn’t be news about Jake yet. He would only have arrived in south Texas a day or two ago.
He closed the bottom half of the barn doors and walked farther out into the rain, not caring that he was getting wet. The cool rain felt good, and he thanked God for it. He took off his hat and shook his long hair behind his shoulders and let the rain pour through it before walking to his still-saddled horse. He hooked his hat over the pommel of his saddle and mounted up, riding out to greet whoever was coming.
Terrel rode beside the buggy, and as it drew closer, Lloyd realized who it was. Peter Brown. “What the hell?” Where was Treena? He rode at a faster gait to intercept the buggy before it reached the houses.
“Peter!” he called out. He’d never known how to feel about the man. Peter was the lawyer responsible for getting his father’s prison sentence reduced—the sentence that had sent Jake to ride as a U.S. Marshal in the most dangerous, godforsaken part of the country. Peter was also the reason the family had been able to move to Colorado for a better life, and last summer he’d come to Denver to help keep Jake’s neck out of a noose.
What he hated about the man was that he’d done none of it for Jake. It was because he was in love with Randy Harkner. Even though the man was married, Lloyd wasn’t fond of him visiting. Last summer he’d come with his wife, and she’d been greatly impressed by the J&L and wanted to come back. So why wasn’t she here with him now?
Peter waved with one hand, then drew the horse pulling what was likely a rented buggy to a halt. “Lloyd!” he shouted. “By God, you’re looking good!” he added when Lloyd rode closer. “When I left here last summer, you were still pretty weak. I didn’t think you’d be looking this strong and robust.” He climbed out of the buggy and reached up to shake Lloyd’s hand.
Lloyd reached down and grasped Peter’s hand, squeezing lightly. “It’s been a long road, Peter.” He dismounted. “I still don’t think I could hold my own yet in a fist fight.”
Peter looked up at the strapping younger man. “Well, now, I wouldn’t want to bank on that if I was on the other side of your fist.” His grin faded. “What’s this Terrel tells me about Jake being gone? I didn’t expect that. He’s in Mexico? Going after Gretta MacBain’s daughter? For God’s sake, who knew that woman even had a daughter?”
Lloyd looked toward the main house, wondering if his mother had already seen the visitor arrive. “Peter, this isn’t a good time for you to be here. This is really hard on my mother. And where is Treena?”
Peter read the jealousy in Lloyd’s eyes, realizing he might as well be standing in front of Jake himself. Lloyd had never liked the idea that any other man loved his mother, and with Jake gone, Lloyd was going to make damn sure Jake Harkner’s wife was shielded from any man who would even consider getting anywhere close to the woman. Even Terrel, on the way in, had seemed a bit defensive.
The rain suddenly stopped, and it seemed almost too quiet, their voices softened by air that hung heavy with humidity.
“Lloyd, I swe
ar I had no idea Jake was gone. How in hell could I know that? Treena is in France visiting relatives. She’ll be gone at least another month. I was caught up on my work, and this place is so beautiful and cool and such a tremendous relief from the heat and smoke and noise of the city—I just thought I’d take a couple of weeks and get away from it all instead of rambling around in that castle of a house we have in Chicago. Believe me, if I’d known Jake was gone, I wouldn’t have come, but I’m here now. At least let me talk to your mother. Maybe now is a good time for her to have a friend.”
Lloyd walked a few feet away, removing his hat and pushing some wet strands of his hair behind his ears. “Peter, she’s not totally herself. She’s scared to death my father won’t make it back this time, and frankly, so am I. I should be with him. It’s driving me crazy.” He faced Peter. “After riding with him over three years in No Man’s Land and both of us protecting each other’s asses…he took Cole with him, but that’s not the same. It should be me, but I have this place to run and three kids and another one on the way. And it would be even harder on my mother if both of us were gone.” He stepped closer. “This is fucking killing me! On top of going into danger down there to rescue that girl, Pa went to Brownsville. He grew up in Brownsville and hasn’t been back there since he left after killing his father. I don’t have to tell you what that means. One way or another I’m worried he’ll end up in a Mexican prison.”
Peter sighed and grabbed hold of the harness of the small, painted mare attached to the buggy. “Jesus,” he muttered. “Lloyd, I should go talk to your mother.”
Lloyd scowled. “Just go home, Peter. Go before she sees you.”
Peter looked up to him, unafraid in spite of the warning look in Lloyd’s dark eyes. This man and his father could be the most intimidating men on the face of the earth, but one thing he knew about them was they would never hurt a friend of Randy’s, and he’d damn well been that.
“I’m not going anywhere, Lloyd. Part of the reason I came is because Jeff Truebridge is worried. He told me Randy’s last letter sounded strange, and that was months ago. It’s not like Randy to not be herself, as you put it, even when Jake goes riding off. She’s always been strong and independent and confident in Jake’s abilities to take care of himself. What’s really going on?” He saw a flash of distrust and near guilt in Lloyd’s eyes.
The Last Outlaw Page 31