Love's Sweet Revenge (5 page)

“Jake, two of them are trying to work their way behind us.”

“I know. You just stay low, understand? Keep an eye behind us, but you let me do the shooting unless something happens that I can't.”

The whole time Jake spoke, he kept a keen eye on the five men cautiously approaching. Randy jumped when he suddenly fired his Winchester, then cocked and fired again before the crack of the first shot even finished echoing through the valley.

“Jesus Christ!” someone yelled.

Jake fired again. A man cried out. “My leg! I'm shot!”

“The other three are sneaking through the tall grass,” Jake told Randy. “Keep watching our backs.”

Randy struggled against tears, remembering another gunfight back in Guthrie, when she almost lost her husband to nearly unstoppable bleeding. Another gunfight, back in California years ago, when he took a bullet to the hip. Another huge gunfight when they both saved Lloyd from a gang of outlaws out to kill him. And when he rescued their daughter Evie from hell itself, he and Lloyd were both wounded.

“Who's there?” one of the rustlers called out.

“Jake Harkner! And those are my cattle you're stealing, you sonofabitch!”

Things got quiet for a moment.

“Shit!” someone swore. “
The
Jake Harkner?”

“I've never come across another man by the same name!”

“Goddamn it, Harkner, we didn't know it was
your
cattle we were stealin'.”

“You do now!”

“You did your share of rustling once yourself, you damned outlaw!”

“Long time ago—and a different man!” Jake shouted. “I'll give you one chance to ride off, long as you head north and you leave my cattle behind. Nobody has ever gotten away with rustling off the J&L, and I intend to keep it that way!”

“Jake, behind you!” Randy gasped.

Jake whirled, his six-gun out, and fired in the blink of an eye. It boomed much louder than the Winchester, and the man sneaking up on them flew into the air with a scream, a huge hole in his chest.

“Billy, there's a woman with him!” a second man somewhere behind them called out.

“Lie down flat!” Jake ordered Miranda.

Randy did as he told her, just as a bullet pinged against the rock right where she'd been sitting. She felt Jake's weight on her then when he laid himself over her. Randy squinted and covered her ears when he fired his .44 five more times.

Randy heard a man screaming. It sounded like he was running toward them. “That was my father, you bastard!” he was yelling. She felt Jake move, realized he was reaching for the six-gun she'd left lying on the flat rock. More shots rang out, pinging against the rocks and ricocheting in all directions.

She felt Jake's body jerk. “Jesus!” he grunted. He fired the second .44 twice. Another man cried out.

“Jake, are you hit?” Randy screamed from under him.

“Just grazed. I think it was a bullet that ricocheted off a rock.”

“Come on out, Harkner!” one of the men in the grass yelled. “You can't stay there forever. The minute you up and run, we've got you, on account of we'll take your woman down first. If you don't want her to suffer, you ought to come on out of there.”

“You two are all that's left,” Jake shouted. He remained on top of Randy. “Do you really think I can't take you both down, even out in the open? Let's make it a fair gunfight! You two against me!”

“Jake, no! You're hurt, aren't you? You're hurt!”

He moved off her, staying low. “Load my other six-gun, quick!” he told her. “And stay low like I told you.”

Staying on her belly, Randy reached out with a shaking hand and grabbed the empty gun he'd left near her. She grabbed the bag of cartridges nearby and dumped them on the ground, picking out the right ones for his .44s. She nervously began loading the gun while the man Jake had shot in the leg lay groaning and crying. “My leg! My leg!” he kept hollering. Suddenly, he raised up and pointed his gun at Jake.

Jake fired again.

“You bastard!” one of the others swore. “He was wounded!”

“So am I! He should have stayed down!”

“The poor guy was confused from pain, you murderin' sonofabitch!” the first man answered.

“I've been called worse!” Jake turned to Randy, still keeping his head down. “Keep your fingers away from that trigger,” he reminded her.

“I know.” Randy noticed the back of his jacket was soaked with blood. “Jake, you're bleeding!”

“Doesn't matter. I can't let them get to you. Finish loading that thing and give it to me.”

Randy slammed the cylinder closed and handed him the gun, keeping the barrel pointed down and her fingers away from the trigger. One of the men behind them groaned.

“Jake, one of those men back there is still alive.”

“I doubt he's in any shape to do us harm,” Jake answered, shoving his six-gun into its holster. “How about it, mister!” Jake yelled louder. “An even gunfight, me against the both of you!”

Randy realized he was using his only option at flushing them out once and for all.

“You'll lose, Harkner, and then your woman will be all ours, or at least at the mercy of which one of us is left!”

“Hank, that's Jake Harkner you're talkin' to,” the other man yelled. “You shouldn't have threatened his wife. He's taken on a lot more than just two men on his own. Let's just get out of here!”

“I'm not leaving without taking that sonofabitch down,” the first man growled. “He killed Cal, and Cal was already wounded!”

“That's the whole point! He don't miss! You know his reputation! Let's just go!”

“Too late, boys!” Jake shouted. “You get up on those horses, and you're dead! I said you could ride off, but I've changed my mind. You shouldn't have threatened my wife! Your only chance now is to face me down fair and square.”

There came a long silence. Randy noticed Jake grimace with pain, and perspiration began to bathe his face. “Jake, don't do it! You're hurt!”

“Not bad enough to let either one of those bastards get to you. Remember what I said about that shotgun!” He shimmied up to the crack in the rock to keep an eye on the men lying beyond in the grass. “Make up your minds!” he yelled. “Sure death—or a tiny chance at living!”

“This ain't fair! You're Jake Harkner.”

“And you made the decision to steal my cattle!”

“We didn't know this was your spread.”

“Hank!” the second man shouted. “Somebody is riding toward us from the north. Let's get out of here!”

“Harkner ain't gonna let us leave.” The one called Hank dared to stand up, his hands in the air but six-gun still in hand. “I'm callin' you, Harkner! Fair fight, but Billy here gets to be part of it, just like you said.”

“I ain't drawin' on no Jake Harkner!” Billy answered.

“We have no choice, Billy! Put your gun in its holster. Let's get this over with!”

Jake slowly rose, holstering the gun Randy had loaded for him.

“Jake, don't!” Randy begged.

“Stay put,” he told her. He walked from behind the boulder, noticing riders in the distance. He could tell it was Lloyd because of how his long hair flew out behind him in the wind.

The one called Billy slowly got to his feet. He carefully holstered his gun, as did Hank. They held their hands away from their holsters.

Jake staggered slightly.

“He's hurt!” Hank sneered. “I
told
you. We've got a chance, Billy.”

“Then let's get this over with. More men are comin'!” Billy answered. He went for his gun. Hank went for his at the same time, but before either of them could clear their holsters, Jake's gun was blazing, and they both went down.

Randy started to rise, not noticing until then that the man left alive behind them had gotten to his feet. She grabbed up the shotgun and fired.

Jake whirled at the boom. Randy was sitting on the ground, still clinging to the shotgun.

“Jesus!” Jake holstered his guns and knelt beside her. “Randy?”

“I'm okay. The shotgun knocked me down.”

Jake helped her to her feet, pulling her close. He wrapped his arms around her. “You sure you're okay?”

“I'm fine.” She glanced toward the man she'd shot at. “I think I missed. The shotgun kicked up when I fired it.”

Jake kissed her hair. “Stay put.” He walked over to check out the man. “He's dead,” he called out, “but not from any buckshot.”

Randy closed her eyes with relief, unable to accept killing a man as easily as her husband did.

Jake came back and pulled her close again, hugging her so tightly she could barely breathe. “That's it. You're not coming with me again.”

“Jake, you can't judge by this.” Randy hated realizing the spell was broken. The trip had been so beautiful, until now.

“I mean it, Randy.”

Still shaking, Randy broke into tears. “I don't want the morning to be spoiled. You promised me we'd go back to that line shack. It's so beautiful and peaceful there.”

“We'll figure out a way. You're just upset right now. All I know is that I can't bring you with me this time of year, when the men are so spread out. You're safer at home when I have to go this far.”

“I hate it when you're gone.” Randy clung to him.

“Well, I'm here right now.” He sighed, keeping her close. The far riders came closer. “Lloyd is coming, and he has more men with him.” He rubbed her back. “It's okay, Randy.”

Randy pulled away, wiping at tears with a shaking hand. “Lloyd's coming? How did he know there might be trouble?”

Jake kept an arm around her shoulders. “I don't know. I'm just glad he's here.”

Randy kept her arms around his waist as the riders drew nearer. Lloyd charged up the hill to where they waited, dismounting before his horse even came to a complete stop. “Pa! We heard there might be rustlers in this area. You okay?”

“We're all right,” Jake told him. “A bullet ricocheted off the rocks and ripped across my back, but there's no bullet in me that I can tell. I think it's just a gash.”

Lloyd touched Randy's shoulder. “You all right, Mom?”

She closed her eyes and pulled away from Jake. “I'm just a little shaken up. I shot at one behind us, and the shotgun slammed pretty hard against my shoulder. I have a feeling I'll be bruised by morning.” She began to cry then. “It's just that I never know when I'll lose your father to something like this.”

Lloyd pulled her into his arms. “Mom, you know that mean sonofabitch doesn't go down easy.” He leaned down and kissed her hair and turned to Jake, keeping an arm around his mother.

“Thanks for the kind names you call me,” Jake quipped.

“Just saying it like it is,” Lloyd told him, loving to trade barbs with his father, who never spared words himself when voicing exactly what he was thinking. He gave his mother a gentle squeeze. “You've turned this woman into a nervous wreck over the years.”

“Lloyd, I'm fine,” Randy objected. She pulled away. “Take care of your father.”

Lloyd frowned, walking around to see that the back of Jake's sheepskin jacket was soaked with blood. “Take off your jacket and let me look at that wound.”

“I'm fine.”

“Damn it, Pa, you're bleeding worse than you think! I saw enough blood after that gunfight back in Guthrie. I don't need to see you nearly bleed to death again. For all you know, you need stitches.”

“And who will do that?
You?
”

“Hell yes. I would take great pleasure in yanking a needle through that wound and hearing you yell.”

Jake scowled at him as he removed the jacket. “I'll just bet you would.”

“Turn around, old man. Let me at least put some whiskey on it.”

Jake sighed. “Thanks for coming,” he told Lloyd, sincerity moving into his eyes. “If something had gone wrong, they would have gotten ahold of your mother.” He winced when Lloyd tore open the back of his shirt. “Go through those men's gear and see if you can find some identification,” Jake called out to Pepper and Cole.

“The bleeding is slowing. I'll put whiskey on it anyway, just for safekeeping.” Lloyd walked over to his horse and took a flask from his saddlebag, along with a roll of gauze.

Jake glanced at a shaken Randy. “You really all right? You're not hurt anywhere?”

She walked up to him and leaned against his chest as he moved an arm around her. “I'm fine.”

Lloyd returned with the supplies, and Randy felt Jake jerk when Lloyd doused the deep cut with whiskey, then pressed the gauze against the wound and held it there a moment.

“I'd rather
drink
some of that whiskey,” Jake told him.

“I expect you would.”

“I suppose I've added another scar to my back,” Jake grumbled.

Lloyd glanced at his mother. Randy saw the pain in his eyes at knowing the scars on his father's back were nearly all put there by Jake's own father when Jake was just a little boy—by the buckle end of a belt. “I suppose so,” he answered quietly, “but I don't think it will have to be stitched up. We'll let Brian look at it when we get back.”

“God knows it's a good thing your sister married a doctor,” Jake tried to joke. “He doesn't need a practice of his own. His family keeps him busy enough.”

Lloyd smiled sadly. “Yeah, well, if you'd learn to stay out of trouble, we wouldn't need him so much.”

“Hey, Jake!” Cole called out as he rummaged through the clothing on one of the bodies. “Do you ever leave a man alive when you get into something like this?”

“Sometimes,” Jake answered, taking a Lone Jack cigarette from a pocket on the front of his shirt and lighting it.