Love's Sweet Revenge (9 page)

Jake rode into one of the barns to put up his horse and get a fresh mount. Pain from old wounds stabbed at weary bones as he unsaddled and removed the gear from his equally weary cutting horse.

Daily routines had changed, as they always did when spring roundup and branding became the most important chore. He hated that Randy, Katie, and Evie were kept busy helping Teresa with constant cooking for the men, but they didn't seem to mind. Rodriguez usually did the cooking out at the cookhouse, but this time of year he was busy helping the rest of the men.

As he'd promised Evie, Jake kept Little Jake with him for the first time on roundup. So far, the boy had obeyed every order, but Jake could tell he wanted to get on his own horse and ride down a calf and try to rope and brand it by himself. Maybe next year. For now he spent most of the time sitting on a fence, watching, but sometimes Jake let him ride behind him on his horse when he rode away from the main homestead to rustle up more stray cattle.

Stephen and Ben came inside also to change horses. They were big enough now to ride and do some herding themselves. Watching them learn to rope and brand was something the whole family enjoyed. Jake smiled at the fact that they were wanting to be men in the worst way. He and Lloyd sometimes had trouble convincing them there were certain things they still weren't ready for, which included carrying their own six-guns, something Jake flat-out refused to allow.

“Don't waste too much time, boys,” Jake told them as he threw a blanket over a gray-spotted Appaloosa. “We have to get back out there.”

“Yes, sir,” Stephen answered.

The boys unsaddled their horses a little too quietly, and Jake glanced over to see them whispering.

“What's going on?” he asked.

They approached him rather hesitantly. Stephen met Jake's gaze boldly, as though he needed courage. “Grampa, you let us hunt, so why can't we learn to shoot pistols? You're the best there is. You could teach us really good.”

Jake was not oblivious to the boys' attempts at flattering him into letting them have their way. “Stephen, I don't intend to discuss it. And besides that, I'm not the one to ask. Ask your father.”

“He always says I should ask you.”

Thanks a lot, Lloyd
, Jake thought. Lloyd was just as hesitant about his son using a six-gun as Jake was, but Jake had even deeper reasons than just the danger. “Stephen, I can tell you for a fact that knowing how to use a gun can bring you a lot of heartache. And you and Ben are still way too young for handling pistols. They're a lot more dangerous than a rifle.”

“Is it true, Grampa?”

Jake heaved the saddle onto the horse, then turned. Both boys stood facing him, eyes wide with curiosity. “Is
what
true?”

Stephen shrugged. “You know—about the way you used to live. About your own pa and all that? Nobody will let us read the book Jeff wrote about you. Grandma and my pa say you have to tell us when we can read it.”

Jake studied them, remembering when Lloyd once asked him about his past, and he'd refused to tell him. His not knowing had led to tragedy when Lloyd was older and learned the truth the hard way. “Stephen, why are you asking this now? We're in the middle of herding and culling and branding.”

Stephen's eyes actually teared. “I don't know. I just thought it had something to do with why you won't let us use a handgun. I'm sorry I asked.”

“We'll get our horses saddled.” Ben spoke up with urgency in the words. His eyes showed an odd fear Jake hadn't seen there before.

Ben turned to go to another stall.

“Ben!” Jake spoke up. “Stay right here.” Jake left his horse only partially saddled and walked out of the stall, ordering the boys to sit down on some stacked hay. They looked at each other, then obeyed. Jake walked over and knelt in front of them. “What's going on?” he asked them.

Ben swallowed. “Nothing.”

“And you just looked at me like you were afraid of me. What did I tell you the day I took you from your father and adopted you?” Jake asked Ben.

“You said…I'd be your son, and nobody would ever hurt me again.”

“And did I keep that promise?”

Ben nodded, tears brimming in his eyes.

“Then why did you just now act like you were afraid of me?”

Ben quickly wiped at the tears. “I'm not afraid of you. I'm afraid something bad will happen to you 'cause of you killing all those men a couple weeks ago. Sometimes we get scared when you act like that, but nobody tells us why you can get mean sometimes. You're never mean to us.”

Jake had never felt so touched. The boy's remark about being afraid
for
him was the epitome of all he'd ever wanted in life—love and family. He wondered if he would ever get used to these feelings, and he knew it was time to tell his grandson and Ben things he'd rather not talk about. He reached over and pulled a nearby crate closer, then sat down on it, facing the boys. He lit a cigarette.

“All right.” He took a long drag on the cigarette, hoping he could do this without visiting that dark place that usually took over when he had to talk about his father. “It's really hard for me to talk about these things, boys, but you need to know that everything you've heard about me is true.” He rested his elbows on his knees, keeping the cigarette between his lips. “When I was your age, I'd been beaten too many times to count by a father who instilled in me the idea that I was worthless. I'd already witnessed him murder my mother and my little brother.” He paused to keep his voice steady, taking the cigarette from his lips. “He…uh…he made me help bury them.” He struggled against the sick anger.

“Grampa, that's terrible!” Stephen told him, looking ready to cry again.

Jake took the cigarette from his lips and just stared at it for several quiet seconds. “I have scars on my back from all the beatings, often with the buckle end of a belt. Someday I'll show you the scars, but not today.” He looked at Ben. “Now you know why I attacked your father, Ben—why I took you away from all that. I knew what that was like.”

Ben quickly wiped at silent tears. “I won't forget what you did. I'll be a good son.”

“You're a wonderful son. I don't regret for one minute taking you into our home.” Jake sighed. “As far as what happened after my mother and brother were murdered, I lived in hell for seven more years. When I was fifteen, I found my father…doing something bad to a young girl I cared about. He was a big, strong, brutal man who drank too much. The only way I could think to stop him was to shoot him…so I did. I didn't mean to kill him. I just wanted to stop him.”

He took another drag on the cigarette. “So yes, I killed my own father. And back then, I didn't know a bullet could go through one person into another. When I shot my father, I accidentally killed that young girl, too. I'll never forget that or forgive myself for it. I just didn't know what I was doing, and I was scared, afraid people would accuse me of murder when it wasn't that at all. I rode off scared to death I'd hang for it, so I joined up with a gang of outlaws, and for the next several years, that's how I lived—robbing and killing and learning I was damn good with a gun. I felt like a worthless murderer and figured maybe that's all I'd ever be known for, so why should I care about living any other way?”

He smoked again, then reached over to flick the cigarette into a bucket of water kept in the barn for such things. He ran a hand through his hair and rubbed at his eyes. “I didn't used to be able to talk about this, but a preacher, and Randy, helped me learn to deal with it and taught me I was better off talking about it than holding it all inside. It's up to you boys to decide how you feel about what I did. And I don't want you telling Little Jake yet. I'll decide when to tell him.”

“Okay, Pa,” Ben told him, his eyes wide and curious.

Stephen shook his head. “It's okay, Grampa. You were a kid like us and didn't know what else to do.”

Jake smiled sadly, taking Stephen's hand. “Stephen, I hid the truth from your father till he was almost grown. He found out everything when I was arrested after years of running and they took me to prison. I didn't even do some of the things they accused me of, but I ran with some really bad men, so I was accused of all the things they did. When Lloyd found out, it hurt him really bad. He'd always looked up to me. So he went on kind of a rampage against me, because my going to prison cost him the woman he loved…your mother. Her father found out she was in love with the son of an outlaw, so he took her away. Lloyd never knew she was carrying you, Stephen, until almost five years later. That was a really bad time for Lloyd. He ran off while I was in prison, and he lived like an outlaw himself.”

“Will he get mad if I ask him about it?”

“I don't think so, but let me say something to him first. I just want you to know that my not telling Lloyd the truth about my past caused a big rift between him and me that broke my heart. I lost my son for a while. I never want that to happen between me and any of my grandchildren, or to you and your father, Stephen. Your grandmother preaches to me constantly about telling all of you the truth, so that's what I'm doing—and for me to be able to talk about it at all is a miracle, and it's all thanks to Randy. There are some things you just never quite get over, boys, things that live down deep inside that sometimes come back to revisit you in bad ways. That happens to me sometimes. Randy has taught me it's okay to let people love me, because I've never felt I deserved it. Evie has also taught me a lot about love and forgiveness. She has a beautiful soul, boys, and I think it all comes from Randy. God knows it couldn't have been me. Don't ever underestimate how bad a life I led for a while, because I was as bad as they come. You might as well know it.”

“Some of Aunt Evie's goodness
does
come from you, Grampa,” Stephen told him. “You love all of us real good. That must mean you're good inside, too.”

Jake couldn't answer right away. He swallowed before speaking again. “Well, I guess that's for God to decide when I meet my Maker.” He turned to Ben. “And don't ever, ever be afraid of me, Ben, no matter what you hear from other people—understand?” He looked at Stephen. “Understand? As bad as I was in the past, I never hurt a child or a woman.”

Both boys nodded.

“It's a man's job to protect and defend his own,” Jake continued. “I think both of you know what happened to Evie back in Oklahoma—or you at least have a pretty good idea. Lloyd and I killed a lot of men that day, but it had to be done. I just don't want either one of you to worry I'll go back to prison, because I haven't done anything wrong, and I
won't
do anything wrong if I can help it. But I'll damn well use my guns to protect my wife and my children and grandchildren if I have to. And it's
because
these guns I wear have brought me a lot of trouble and heartache that it's hard for me to teach you to wear guns. It's hard for Lloyd, too. Can you understand it's because we love you and don't want you to get hurt or in trouble?”

The boys nodded, and Stephen suddenly threw his arms around Jake's neck. “Don't do something that makes you have to go away, Grampa.”

Jake struggled against his tears. “I'll try real hard not to let that happen,” he promised.

“I heard one of the men say that Mike Holt wants to kill Pa. Is it true?”

Jake reached out to grasp Ben's hand while he clung to Stephen. “Yes, it's true. But, Stephen, your father is just as good at handling men like that as I am, so don't you worry about it, okay? Is that why you and Ben want to carry your own guns?”

“Yeah,” Ben answered for Stephen. “What if you and Lloyd need protecting? He's my brother now.”

Jake squeezed his hand. “Boys, I assure you that Lloyd and I can handle ourselves just fine—and we've got plenty of hired hands, all good men. This is the J&L, and nobody is going to get onto this land without us knowing it. Nobody will get near any of us. And even when we leave the ranch and take the cattle to Denver, we'll be on the lookout. Lloyd and I rode together for three years as U.S. Marshals. We know what we're doing. Promise me you'll stop worrying.”

Stephen sniffed and pulled away, wiping at his eyes. “Will you still teach us someday about how to use handguns?”

“Sure I will, but not till you're at least fifteen or sixteen, understand? And in your case, Stephen, only if your father agrees.”

“He likes you now, doesn't he?”

“Likes me?”

“I mean, he's not mad at you anymore about when you went to prison? You said Pa was real mad at you.”

Jake smiled sadly. “Your father and I have never been closer, Stephen. We still have our differences, but I'd die for Lloyd, and he damn well knows it. And I think he'd do the same for me. I hope you and Lloyd will always be as close as he and I are. I might have had a father from hell, but one thing I learned from the man was the kind of father I
wanted
to be. It took me a long time to learn how to do that, but your grandmother taught me things about love I didn't understand when I first met her. And let me tell you something—both of you—no better woman ever walked the face of the earth than Miranda Harkner. Because of me, she's had a hard life, but she stuck through it and never complains and has shown me what love really means. I pray both of you find a woman like that someday.”

Ben made a face. “We don't want nothing to do with girls.”

Jake grinned. “Believe me, when you are older, you will change your mind, Son.”

Stephen frowned. “Eddie Holmes told me his pa said you used to run around with bad ladies. Did you?”

“Bad ladies?” Jake couldn't help laughing. “That was before I met your grandmother, and that is a whole different subject, boys. Stephen, that's for your father to tell you about. But you shouldn't really call them that. They aren't bad. Most of them are good at heart.” He sobered. “Women like that half raised me, and sometimes they shielded me from my father when he was having one of his drunken rages. One even took a beating to protect me. Many women like that have a lot of good in them, and most have had their own tragic past.” He tousled Ben's hair. “You boys listen to me. When you get older, you respect all women.
All
women, understand? Don't you ever think of a woman as bad, and don't ever, ever lay a hand wrongly on a woman. That's one thing I will never tolerate. If I ever learn you've abused a woman when you get older, I'll toss you right off the J&L and disinherit you. Understand?”