The Last Outlaw

by Rosanne Bittner

  Lloyd turned to Terrel, who still sat on his horse nearby. “Go on down to the bunkhouse, Terrel. I’ll handle this.”

  “Sure, boss.” Terrel rode off, and Peter watched after him. He got the feeling the entire ranch was on some kind of alert, everyone on edge. Was it just over Jake? He noticed a woman come out onto the porch of the main house. With that long, dark hair, it had to be Evie. He looked back up at Lloyd.

  “Tell me what the hell I’m dealing with here, Lloyd, because I am going to go down there and talk to Randy whether you like it or not. Help me know what to say to her. It might help her. Sometimes talking to a friend is a relief from family, because family is too close.”

  Lloyd’s horse whinnied and turned in a circle, ending up between them. Lloyd smacked its rump and shoved the steed out of the way. “Get going, Strawberry!” He smacked the horse’s rump again, and it ran off, charging down the hill toward the barn.

  Lloyd faced Peter. “They always head for home, no matter how far away.” He took a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, his dark eyes telegraphing a warning as he took a deep drag.

  “My God, Lloyd, from what I’m looking at, Jake Harkner will never die because he’s standing right in front of me. If looks could kill, I’d probably be dead, but thank God I trust you not to act on what you’re thinking right now.”

  Lloyd sighed, taking hold of the buggy horse and turning it, leading it up and over the hill far enough that they were out of sight of the house. Peter followed, not quite sure if Lloyd wanted to talk or meant to beat him into the ground.

  “Get into the goddamn buggy,” Lloyd told Peter.

  Peter did as he was told, and Lloyd climbed into the front seat beside him, resting his elbows on his long legs. He took the reins and tied them around a hook to keep the horse still, then kept the cigarette between his lips as he spoke, a gesture Peter had often seen from Jake.

  “Peter, between thinking I could be dying and her husband could be hanged, last summer was hard enough on my mother.” He smoked quietly for a moment, staring at the floor of the buggy, then finally took the cigarette from his lips. “What I’m going to tell you is in complete confidence. The whole family knows it has to be, even the boys and the ranch hands. As far as anyone knows, Brad Buckley has disappeared off the face of the earth, and good riddance.”

  “Oh my God…don’t tell me.” Peter removed his hat and hung his head. “That judge told Jake if he took the law into his own hands one more time he’d go to prison. He—” He hesitated. “Please don’t tell me this has something to do with Randy.”

  “It does.” Lloyd’s jaw flexed in repressed anger. “We had a barn fire. While we all fought that, Buckley and some other men made off with my mother.”

  Peter covered his face. “Oh my God! God, no,” he groaned.

  “You can imagine the rage my father was in. Him and me both. We went after them and…found her. Needless to say, they’re all dead and buried. We burned the line shack we found her in to the ground. My mother totally changed after that. It was like she was twelve years old. She clung to Pa like a scared kid clinging to her father…wouldn’t let him out of her sight. It took months for Pa to get her back to her normal self, or at least close to it. He loves the hell out of that woman.” He cast Peter another warning look. “As you well know.”

  “You damn well don’t need to tell me that.”

  Lloyd sighed and drew on the cigarette again, holding it between his fingers as he continued. “I never thought Pa could be so strong and stay sane after something like that, but he did it, for her. Mom was finally pretty much back to her old self, until Gretta came along. Gretta was desperate to help her daughter, and Jake was her last resort. She couldn’t get the law to help her, and the first man that went down there to rescue the girl never made it back.”

  “But that didn’t stop Jake from going next,” Peter said with a hint of sarcasm. “God knows there isn’t an ounce of fear in that man.”

  “You know Pa. Heaven forbid an innocent girl should be in trouble. He can’t stand the thought of a woman abused.”

  “He had to know this would kill your mother, especially when she’s not long recovered from…” Peter stopped and rubbed at his eyes. “Goddamn it,” he muttered. “What did Buckley and his men do to her?”

  Lloyd remained quiet for several long seconds. “Not what you think.”

  “Did they beat her?”

  “Yeah—pretty bad—but they didn’t break any bones. And let’s just say they humiliated her in the worst way. If I went into any more detail, I’d feel like I was betraying her. She’d die of shame if she thought you knew any of it. If she pretends everything is fine, you have to go along with it.”

  Peter held his head in his hands. “Jesus God Almighty.” His voice broke as he spoke the words. “Damn it, Randy.”

  Lloyd knew in that moment how much the man loved his mother. He spoke her name as lovingly and with as much agony as Jake would have. “She can’t know I told you,” he reiterated, “and I’m only telling you because, much as I resent your feelings for my mother, I know you care about her and about this whole family. And as Pa’s lawyer, you know there are some things you can’t talk about.”

  “Of course not.” Peter raised his head, and a tear slipped down his cheek. “Lloyd, I have to talk to her. Just as a friend come to visit.” He sniffed and wiped his cheeks. “Maybe it will help get her mind off of Jake. It might be good for her to have a visitor.” He took a deep breath. “Is she really doing better?”

  “She was till Pa left for Mexico. I see the desperate fear in her eyes that he won’t make it back this time. What he’s doing is really dangerous, and one man has already died. The place where they took the girl is pretty heavily guarded. It’s just that Pa is determined to kill the man who owns the brothel—figures it’s the only way to stop the abduction of more young girls.”

  Peter shook his head. “The man is determined to get himself shot or hanged, isn’t he? Heaven forbid he should die of old age—not a man like Jake.”

  “That’s what scares us the most. I know how he thinks, and he’s thinking it’s his time. He belongs to another world, Peter, one we can only partly understand. Pa understands it best. If he makes it back, it will be for Mom, but I know what’s in his heart. He doesn’t want to be in this world anymore.” The gravity of it hit Lloyd suddenly, and he choked on the words. “None of us…can picture life without Jake Harkner in it. If he does come back, it won’t be because he’s fought for his life. I can tell there are times when he does want to die.

  “But he’ll come back for my mother, because he promised her he would, like he’s done so many times in the past. It’s just that this time… I don’t know. I’m scared if he’s badly injured or something like that, or if he ends up in prison, he’ll give up.”

  They sat there for a few minutes, not talking at all. Finally, Peter took a handkerchief from his suit pocket and blew his nose and wiped at his eyes. He put the handkerchief back, ran his fingers through his still-thick hair, and put on his bowler hat. “I’m going to the house, Lloyd. Just remember I’m a married man, and I do love my wife. But you know damn well I also love your mother and have for years. And in all those years, even when I was still single and she worked for me back in Guthrie…I never once tried to move in on your father. You have to believe that. Not only was I scared to death of the man, but I also respect him. And more than that, I respect your mother. Believe me, I am well aware of how much she loves your father. No man on the face of the earth could take his place in her heart. At least afford me the satisfaction of being here for her for a while and helping keep her mind off things. I can keep a conversation going—tell her what’s happening with Jeff—what my wife is doing—maybe take her for walks or a buggy ride. Anything to keep her from going crazy with the waiting.”

  Lloyd wiped at his eyes with his shirt sleeve. “I guess that might
help, but no buggy rides without one of the men going along. I promised Pa she’d never be left unguarded. I know you carry a gun yourself, but ever since last winter, Pa’s wanted extra protection for the women.” He looked at Peter, his eyes red. “Besides, I’m not about to let a handsome, wealthy lawyer who’s ten years younger than Pa go riding alone with my mother.” He grinned a little.

  Peter smiled sadly. “I don’t blame you one bit.” He unwrapped the reins and whipped the horse into motion. He turned the buggy around and headed back over the hill to the three serene-looking log homes below, set against the magnificent backdrop of the Rocky Mountain foothills.

  A beautiful woman with blond hair came out onto the veranda, which was bordered with three rows of rose bushes in full bloom. Randy loved roses. That much Peter knew. He also knew she kept her own secret brew of oil from rose petals and used it like a perfume. He’d smelled it on her before, even just standing beside her.

  “My God, she’s so thin!” he remarked.

  “Yeah. I should have warned you. She’s actually gained some weight. After last winter, she stopped eating. Pa was scared she’d die from malnutrition. He finally got her eating again, and she’s doing pretty good in that department. But don’t say anything about her weight. She might think she has to explain, and she won’t want to.”

  “I understand.” Peter pulled up in front of the house, and Randy covered her mouth with her hands.

  “Peter! Oh, my goodness, you couldn’t have picked a better time to visit!” Randy opened her arms as Peter stepped out of the buggy and walked up the steps to greet her. “I just took some of my bread out of the oven,” Randy told him as they embraced. “I know how much you love it. I’m so glad to see you. Come in! Come in!”

  Peter kissed her cheek. “This place is a wonderful relief from big-city life,” he told her, “and nothing smells better than that bread you bake.”

  They walked inside.

  “Where is Treena?” Lloyd heard his mother ask.

  “She’s in France, visiting family,” Peter answered. “She would have loved to come back out here and probably will again next summer. And I’m sorry to hear Jake isn’t here.”

  “I’ll bet you are,” Lloyd said under his breath. He turned away. “Shit.” He felt like a damn jealous kid.

  Forty-five

  Sidney Wayland himself greeted Jake and Cole in the outer courtyard of the lovely hacienda. The appearance of the place was deceitful, looking more like the home of a wealthy don. They followed Sidney to the courtyard gardens, where they sat in the shade of beautiful, flowered greenery, including red and yellow roses. The air was filled with their aroma. Smelling the roses made Jake’s heart ache for Randy. If not for what this place really was, Randy would love the amazing garden.

  “Go and get the girls,” Sidney ordered a maid. “We have a very special guest. This is the famous gunman from America, Jake Harkner.” He turned to Jake. “Even here in Mexico we know of you,” he told Jake with a wide grin. “And we greet all our special guests with wine and dancing. It gets them excited for one of our lovely women, and I am sure the handsome Jake Harkner, who was raised by whores, appreciates beautiful women.”

  “Sidney, I’ve been with the same woman for a lot of years, but she’s in Colorado and I’m down here, and what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. I’m ready for something different…and younger.”

  Sidney laughed heartily and signaled a small band to come out of an alcove and entertain his guests. The four men played a rapid-beat Mexican tune using maracas, a guiro, guitar, and violin. In the next moment, four beautiful young women emerged from a side door into the courtyard, smiling and swirling to the music. They swayed and turned in beautiful, brightly colored skirts and low-cut tops. They grabbed the ruffled hems of their skirts and lifted them in circular, shifting motions, just enough to give the men a peek at the fact that they wore nothing underneath.

  One woman in particular moved in rhythmic thrusts toward Jake to indicate she could most certainly please him in bed. Her flat belly rolled in tempting lunges, her hip bones showing above the very low waistline of her skirt, just above the hairs of her privates. Her blouse threatened to burst open from her generous bosom as she shook her breasts temptingly close and cast sexy, suggestive smiles through full lips. Her dark eyes promised a very satisfying night if Jake chose her.

  None of it affected Jake. His leftover rage from yesterday kept away all thoughts besides his purpose. He gave the woman a once-over look that told her he desired her, but the only desire he had was for Sidney Wayland’s death.

  The four women finished the dance with a quick lift of their skirts as they turned and bent over to reveal four naked and very firm young bottoms. Jake couldn’t help wondering if more than one of them had been an innocent virgin not so long ago. How many were here of their own free will, and who had been forced into this by Wayland, a small-built man with a slightly upturned nose. His lips were so thin it was almost as though he had no lips at all, and his pale-blue eyes were oddly lifeless—a man with no feelings, Jake guessed, other than for sex and money. Jake could read him like a book. What Wayland was doing made him feel important…a small man aching to be famous and feared in his own way.

  Jake lit a cigarette as Sidney handed him a glass of wine. “Tell me, Jake Harkner,” the man asked. “Why do you bring this man with you? Might you have ulterior motives for being here, which is why you need an extra gun along?”

  Jake sipped some wine, scowling. “I don’t bring ‘extra guns’ along if I have gunplay in mind. I don’t need them.”

  Sidney chuckled. “I have offended you?”

  “Yes, you have. I came down here to buy horses, which is why I brought one of my ranch hands to help me herd them back home. Someone up in Brownsville suggested I look up the Heavenly House of Women while I’m down here, so I thought I’d take them up on their suggestion.” Jake drew deeply on his cigarette and drank more wine. He could hear Lloyd scolding him for drinking, which was dangerous for him in his state of mind. He had no choice. Too much alcohol could turn him into the monster his father had been, but he had to convince Sidney Wayland he was for real. “The man I spoke with told me you specialize in young white girls from America…virgins. Hell, it’s been a long, long time since I screwed a virgin, and I figure if you have one here, she’s probably already a little wild.”

  He scanned the four beauties parading in front of him. “You are all beautiful,” he told them. “Gracias.” He turned back to Sidney. “These girls are some of the prettiest I’ve ever seen, and my friend Cole here can have his pick. He just wants to poke something. Me—if I’m going to come to a place like this, I’m going to take a look at the top of the line, so to speak. And at my age, a virgin would be damn exciting, and I have plenty of money with me.”

  Cole signaled one of the four women to come and sit on his lap. “This is all I need right here,” he told Sidney. “How much?”

  “Two hundred dollars American.”

  “Two hundred!” Cole squinted in thought. “That’s a lot of pesos.”

  “And she is worth it,” Sidney told him. “She will do things you have never even thought of doing, my friend. We offer only the best to wealthy American men. That is why we are so successful.” He waved his hand. “Look at this hacienda! It’s big and beautiful and clean. How do you think I got all of this? And I have my pick of all these women whenever I need one. I never sleep alone, my friend, and usually with a different woman every night. I love it here in Mexico. A few U.S. dollars go a long way here.” He smiled at Cole, who looked at Jake questioningly when Jake sipped on another glass of wine.

  Jake knew what Cole was thinking—the same thing Lloyd would be. Cole could drink any other man right to the ground, but he knew Jake Harkner and alcohol didn’t mix well, and Jake was in a bad enough mood as it was. Jake raised his glass to Cole and grinned. “I know you’re itching to hav
e at it, my friend, so you go ahead and take that pretty young thing to her room. I’ll pay the man, but it’s coming out of your pay when we get home.”

  “As long as you’re willin’,” Cole answered. The Mexican whore screamed as Cole picked her up in his arms and made off with her. He glanced back at Jake. “What time do you want to leave out in the morning for them horses?”

  “Early. Sunrise.”

  “You’d best lay off the wine then, Jake,” Cole told him with a warning look. He set the girl on her feet and headed down a long hallway, past the courtyard, with his arm around her.

  Jake turned to Sidney. “I’m holding out for a virgin, which is why I can’t drink any more wine. The Harkner blood doesn’t mix well with alcohol—makes us mean. Besides, I want to remember and feel and enjoy every minute tonight, and sometimes alcohol can make a man—you know—not quite up to par. Plus, I have a long ride ahead of me in the morning.” He took a last drag on his cigarette then put it out in a stone ashtray on a table beside the big wicker chair. “From the stories I hear, you always have one or two virgins that you save for special sales.”

  Just then, a very handsome Mexican man joined them. He wore a sleek, blue-silk suit, his smile bright, his black hair slicked back. “Señor Jimenez told me we have new customers of a higher class,” he told Sidney. He flashed a bright smile at Jake. “I am Señor Wayland’s right-hand man,” he said, putting out his hand.

  “Luis, this is the famous Jake Harkner, the gunman from America,” Sidney told him. “He is in Mexico to buy horses, and he heard about this place. He is, uh, interested in a virgin.”