Outlaw Hearts

by Rosanne Bittner

  “Bill Kennedy,” he answered, following her up the stairs eagerly.

  “Well, Bill Kennedy, Jake Turner has left Virginia City for parts unknown.” She figured she had only half lied. She knew he had gone to California, but where in California she wasn’t sure. For some reason Jake had not wanted anyone to know. Actually, she had only seen Jake one other time, other than when she went to meet his wife to tell her about Wes. Jake had surprised her by coming to tell her good-bye and to thank her for helping them find out about his wife’s brother. She had asked around after they left, but no one in town knew where in California Jake and Miranda Turner and their new son had gone.

  “You must know if he went to California, Oregon, Arizona?”

  “No,” she lied. “I had known his wife’s brother and knew he was dead. That’s how I met Jake. He was asking about the brother.” She led Kennedy into her room. “Because I had helped him find out about Wes Baker, Jake came to tell me good-bye. He was a pretty private man, never said where he was going. I don’t think anyone else in town knows, either. My guess is he’ll take his wife back to Kansas. I expect she’d just as soon go back home since her brother is dead.”

  Kennedy chuckled. “Honey, he’s not going back to Kansas, believe me.” He suddenly kicked the door shut and grasped her around the throat in a choking hold, startling her. “Now, why don’t you tell me everything you know about ol’ Jake?” He slammed her against the bed rail, and she grunted from pain in her back. “I can get real mean, Miss Mellie! You don’t want to know how mean!”

  Mellie’s eyes teared, and she grasped at the man’s wrist, but he just squeezed harder so that she began losing her breath.

  “It’s real easy,” he told her. “Just tell me everything you know, no lies. Then we’ll have us a good time and I’ll be on my way and you can go on about your business.”

  She watched the wild, blue eyes, knew instinctively he’d kill her in the blink of an eye if she fought him. How was it Jake Turner knew men like this? Could he have been this way once? Surely not with women. There had been something about him that told her he could never lay a hand on a woman. But she did remember how he had treated Clarence, the vicious blows, the gun stuck in the kid’s mouth.

  Kennedy released her and backhanded her, knocking her to the floor. Mellie lay there a moment gathering her thoughts, putting a hand to her throat and trying to get her breath. She felt Kennedy bend over her then, stroking her hair. “Now don’t make me do anything worse. Where’s Jake?”

  “I only know…he went to California,” she gasped, her voice husky from the injury to her throat. “Nobody knows…where in California…I swear it. You can…ask all over town…or up…at the Yellow Jacket. He worked there.”

  “How long ago did he leave?”

  “Six weeks, maybe.”

  “By wagon?”

  “Yes.”

  “His wife with him?”

  “Yes.” He didn’t ask about a baby, so she was not going to volunteer the information.

  “What did Jake do when he was here? He have a job?”

  “I told you, he…worked at the Yellow Jacket.” She sat up slightly, still rubbing at her throat. “He was…some kind of troubleshooter.”

  Kennedy grinned. “So, he made himself a reputation with those guns, did he? I figured as much. I’ll bet there are other people in this town who know as much or more about him than you do. Men like Jake don’t go unnoticed for long.”

  “Why don’t you…leave him alone? He’s…happily married…not doing you any harm.”

  He grasped her hair and jerked her head back. “The harm’s already done! He stole a good piece from me, shot up a lot of my men doing it, including my stepbrother! He went against my orders. I was head of our gang. Nobody goes making decisions on his own!”

  “Gang?”

  “I guess out here folks don’t know much about names like Bill Kennedy and Juan Hidalgo and Jeb Donner. But by the time we’re finished out here, they’ll know our names well enough! There used to be another name connected with us—Harkner, Jake Harkner! Your happily married man used to ride right at my side until he turned traitor!”

  Mellie eyed him maliciously. “Maybe he rode at your side, but I don’t believe…he was ever the stinking coward you are…beating up on a woman to get…information!”

  He grabbed the front of her dress and ripped it away from her breasts. “Honey, I’ve done more than just beat up on a woman, and I don’t generally pay a slut like you to get what I can get for free!” He punched her hard in the side of the face, and Mellie felt a blackness closing in on her, felt her clothes being ripped away. She knew that if she fought him he would only hurt her more, maybe send the scarred one up here. She lay still and let him get it out of his system, wondering how it was that even someone like herself could feel sick and humiliated when she was forced. Whoever these men were, she prayed to God they never found Jake and poor Miranda.

  ***

  Clarence watched the stranger emerge from Mellie’s room, wondered why Mellie herself didn’t come back down. He had not gotten the man’s name, but he was excited that he was asking about Jake. Anybody could tell that he was looking for vengeance, and the thought of bringing harm to that damn bitch Miranda Hayes Turner and the SOB she had married got his juices flowing. He moved out from behind the bar and walked over to the man, grabbing his arm.

  “You looking for Jake Turner, mister?”

  Kennedy’s steely blue eyes bored into the youngster. He studied the young man’s crooked nose and front teeth that were turning black. The kid might have been good-looking at one time, but he wasn’t anymore. “You heard me askin’.”

  “He went to California, him and his wife and their kid.”

  Kennedy’s eyes widened. “Kid! Jake’s got a kid?”

  “Yes, sir, about two months old by now, a boy. Everybody in town knows, on account of Jake stopped a bank robbery not long after he got here and got a write-up in the Enterprise.”

  Kennedy grinned. Jake had a kid! That would slow him up even more, and it would give them yet another way of torturing the man before they killed him. What the hell had gotten into him, marrying and having a kid! That sure didn’t sound like the Jake he had known, but then, Jake had been changing a little those last few months, talked sometimes about getting out of the life they led and maybe settling. He had just never believed Jake would really do it.

  He glanced up at Mellie’s room, wanting to hit her again for not telling him about the baby. She’d pay for that one. He looked at the young man standing before him. “You know where in California he was headed?”

  “No, sir. But if you don’t mind, I’d like to go along with you to find him. Something tells me you’ve got a big grudge to settle, and so do I.”

  “You?” Kennedy looked him over. “You’re just a kid.”

  “I hate his guts. He’s the reason my nose is crooked and my teeth are rotting out of my head. Besides, I’m getting sick of this place. I want to do something new.”

  Kennedy leaned closer. “You ever rob a bank, boy? You ever raid a farm and take what you wanted, including the women?”

  Clarence swallowed. From the looks of the Mexican who had been in here earlier, these men were obviously dangerous, probably killers. If he rode with them, he’d have plenty of protection when they did find Jake; and in the meantime he could learn a lot about how to handle a gun and all. It could be exciting taking up with a gang like this. “I’ve never done those things, but I’m willing to learn. And once you find Jake, I’d be one more gunhand against him. He’s awful damn good with those guns, but a man can take on only so many men at a time.”

  Kennedy grinned. “Well, you’re right there, boy.” He put an arm around his shoulders. “We can always use new blood. Ol’ Jake, he used to ride with us, but he got the crazy notion to try to turn good.”

  “I k
new it!” Clarence told him, following the man back to the bar. “I knew he wasn’t any lawman back East. Was he an outlaw?”

  Kennedy frowned. “Don’t say that so loud, boy.”

  “Damn!” Clarence ordered a whiskey, and the bartender scowled at him.

  “You work here, remember? Get back behind the counter and help me out.”

  “I don’t work here anymore, Mr. Steed. I work for this man now.” Clarence pulled at his beard, which was getting a little fuller. “What’s your name, anyway?”

  “Kennedy, Bill Kennedy.” Kennedy looked the boy over. He’d take him in. Why not? Might be fun teaching the kid a thing or two. He would either end up being a good man to have along, or a pest. If he was a pest, Juan would slit his throat and they’d leave him in the Sierras. No big problem. He glanced at the bartender. “By the way, Mellie said to tell you she won’t be down any more tonight,” he told the man. “She’s not feelin’ too good.”

  Toby Steed glowered at Kennedy, and the look in Kennedy’s eyes told him not to ask any questions. Kennedy ordered another drink, then held the glass up to Clarence. “Welcome to the group, boy. Here’s to findin’ Jake Harkner.”

  Clarence grinned and joined him in the drink.

  ***

  Jake pushed on the brake, and he and Miranda scanned the valley below them. It stretched out for endless miles like a soft green and yellow painting. As soon as they had moved down out of the mountains and the huge fir trees on their slopes, the sun hit their skin with a radiating warmth. Birds flitted about, their songs soothing and pleasant to the ear. Wild roses bloomed, seemingly everywhere, filling the air with their sweet perfume.

  “Jake, it’s beautiful! I’ve heard so much about California, how the weather is always lovely, how a man can grow just about anything in the valleys.”

  Jake took a good look around, feeling like he had driven straight into heaven. “Sure is pretty.” He looked at her, glanced down at the baby in her arms. “So is what I’m looking at now.”

  She smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. “Oh, Jake, we can be happy here, I know it. We’ll start a brand-new life here, you and me and little Lloyd. Let’s not make camp just yet. Let’s go on closer to Sacramento. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can see about land for sale, decide where we’ll settle and whether we’ll farm or ranch—”

  “Not Sacramento.”

  She raised her head and looked at him. “What? I thought we had decided.”

  Jake looked behind them, then out over the valley. “Don’t ask me why, Randy. I just have a gut feeling we should head farther south. I expect most folks who come through here figure on settling in Sacramento or San Francisco. Others probably decide to go on down to Los Angeles. I don’t want to do the expected. Nobody has even seen us yet to say where we might have gone. I’m turning south. We’ll follow the foothills and look for some little out-of-the-way place most folks haven’t heard of. California is a big state—easy to get lost in—and that’s what we need to do—get lost.”

  “Jake, we left no enemies back in Virginia City. They all wished only the best for us.”

  He pushed his hat back, wrapping the reins around a peg and taking a cheroot from his pocket. “It’s not the people of Virginia City I’m worried about.” He lit the cigar and puffed on it quietly for a moment.

  “Then who? The law wouldn’t bother tracking you all the way from Missouri.”

  “Probably not. But I know somebody who would, and if he gets even the slightest taste of my trail, he won’t quit.”

  “Bill Kennedy?”

  Jake sighed. “I hope you never meet him, not just because of what he’d do if he found us, but because you’d see even clearer just what kind of man I used to be.”

  She quelled the hint of fear he had stirred in her soul. “Jake, Sheriff McCleave told me clear back in Kansas that Kennedy and his men had gone on to Indian Territory to try to find you. There is no way they would ever track you back to the Oregon Trail and clear out here.”

  “He’s one of the best trackers I know, him and Juan Hidalgo.” He picked up the reins to the mules that pulled the wagon. “I don’t want to upset you. I wasn’t worried in Virginia City, because I knew if they did track us, they’d have a late start and probably get stranded by winter; but part of the reason I wanted to get the hell out of Nevada as soon as you could travel was to stay as far ahead of him as I could, if he’s even following us at all. I knew once we got here we’d be almost impossible to find, especially if I hang up my guns and lay low so I don’t draw any attention to myself. Maybe I should change my name again.”

  “But the baby’s last name is Turner.”

  He took the cigar from his mouth. “He’ll never know the difference. How about Logan? John Logan?”

  “Jake, I don’t want to—”

  “You don’t know what they’re like, Randy! Now more than ever I want a peaceful life, a nice place for you and Lloyd. I never thought too much about Kennedy and his bunch till Lloyd was born. Then I knew I wanted to make it as good for the both of you as I can, take no chances. Kennedy carries a mighty grudge. It never mattered to me when I was on my own. I still don’t care just for myself, but if they ever got hold of you and Lloyd.” He looked away. “We’re heading south, and we’re changing our name again. Our last name is Logan, understand?”

  She put a hand on his knee, knowing the pain he suffered at thinking he might be the cause of harm coming to them. “All right. But we might as well keep the first name Jake. I’m so used to calling you that, I’d probably slip up and cause more attention than if we just keep your right name.”

  “Fine. It’s Jake Logan then.” He put the cigar back in his mouth and rubbed at his eyes. “I’m sorry, Randy. Maybe I’m just getting too anxious about the whole thing. Here in California, farther south in the valley somewhere, we can be lost to the rest of the world.”

  “We’ll settle wherever you want, Jake. All that matters is that we’re together.”

  Jake moved his arm to rub at her back. “I love you. I’ll get you settled soon and there won’t be any more of this living out of a wagon, I promise.” He kicked off the brake, flicking the reins and shouting at the mules to get moving. He headed the wagon down the hill, Outlaw and the packhorse following. As soon as they reached the valley, he headed south.

  Sixteen

  September 1869

  Jake came inside for lunch, hanging his hat on a hook near the door. He had left his boots just outside, not wanting to dirty the bright braided rugs Miranda had so painstakingly made herself to decorate their three-room log home.

  He smiled at the thought of how good life was here in California. The main room of their house, which he had built with his own hands, along with help from generous neighbors, was large and pleasant, with several windows to let in the California sunshine. Lace curtains graced the windows, and a huge stone fireplace took over one whole wall at the kitchen end of the room. It wasn’t needed often for cooking, since he had bought Miranda an iron, coal-burning cookstove, which was her pride and joy.

  The other two rooms were bedrooms, one for them, the other for two-year-old Lloyd, who was taking a nap. Miranda greeted him with a smile and told him lunch was nearly ready, and he watched her pop a loaf of fresh-baked bread from its pan. She was wearing that yellow dress he liked. She hadn’t worn it for a long time. He remembered the first time he saw her in it, when she first started making him think maybe he wanted to change his life.

  “That foal is doing great,” he told her. “I’ll have a good herd to show that buyer who comes to the fair every year. We ought to make some good money, besides the profit we made on the feed corn and the onions. By next year we’ll have to hire help. The grapes will start to produce enough by next year to ship to market in San Diego.”

  Miranda set the bread on the table. “I have to admit, Jake, I never thought you’d tak
e to farming and ranching quite this well.”

  He came around the table and pulled her into his arms. “You should have more faith in me, woman.” He leaned down and met her mouth, giving her a long, deep kiss. He moved his lips to her eyes. “I’m hungrier for you than I am for that food,” he told her.

  “Jake, it’s the middle of the day! Someone could come, or Lloyd could wake up.”

  “Nobody will come and you know it, and Lloyd wouldn’t know what we were doing.” He swept her up into his arms. “Hell, Randy, I’ve been so busy getting in the crops and worrying over that mare and her foal that all I’ve done is collapse into bed at night and hardly given you any attention at all.”

  “Jake Harkner, put me down!” She liked to use his real name in private, felt he should hear it and learn to be proud of it. She made a mild protest when he dumped her on the bed and moved on top of her, but her weak objections vanished when his lips covered her own again in a penetrating kiss. This was so like the man she loved, spontaneous, gently demanding, sometimes a little wild and unpredictable. “Jake, this is crazy.”

  He moved his lips to her neck and ran his hand under her dress. She wore the dress alone today, except for a camisole and drawers. It was warm, and she hadn’t bothered with slips. “Just a quick little sign of affection, mi querida,” he said softly. She felt the drawers coming off. “Maybe tonight we’ll do this again, take our time.”

  Just the words brought on a surge of hot desire. When Jake Harkner “took his time” with a woman, he had the most exotic ways of taking her to a world of ecstasy. She never dreamed she could let a man do such things, or that there were so many ways to make love. With Jake it always seemed so right and natural.

  For now there would be this quick but sweet sign of affection, clothes still on, pants unbuttoned. He moved into her, the penetration hot and hard, and she remembered how glad she was to know even after the baby that they could still get so much pleasure out of this. His thrusts were deep and stimulating, and he patiently held back until she arched up to him in her own climax. She wondered if it was like this for other women, or if she was simply lucky to have found a man who knew all the right ways to arouse her, to bring out this wanton desire. She could not quite understand why some women complained about this, acted as though allowing their husbands their pleasure was such a chore. Perhaps they would faint if she told them all the things she had let this man do to her. There was not an inch of her body that had been left unexplored. It was the nature of the man to have a woman completely at his command when she was in his bed, and she had never minded one bit. He carried a deep and amazing passion for a man who at one time thought he could never love, and never once had she felt used or dirty. Every touch, every taste, every joining was filled with sweet pleasure and grew out of a desire to express their love.