Do Not Forsake Me

by Rosanne Bittner

  “Pa, be careful. Some of the men in there might be part of the gang Marty hired.”

  “I am well aware of that.” Jake started inside.

  “Wait!” Lloyd told him. “Look here.” He stood beside the horse that was next to his own. “Look at the brand.”

  Jake walked over to see a capital B beside a small t. He glanced at Lloyd. “Jackpot.” He headed inside again. “Remember what I told you, Jeff.”

  Jake walked up to a makeshift bar consisting of boards on sawhorses and ordered two bottles of whiskey. Everything got quiet as he turned and set a bottle on one of the tables. “My son, this other deputy, and I are wanting to play some poker,” he told the men at both tables. Without asking if he was welcome, he sat down to one of the tables and handed the second bottle of whiskey to Lloyd. “Join the men at that other table,” he told him. “Bartender, bring us some shot glasses.”

  Lloyd took the second bottle and took a chair at the other table, nodding toward one other empty chair. “Have a seat, Jeff.”

  Trying to hide the fact that he was scared to death, Jeff sat down. The bartender brought over the shot glasses and Lloyd filled two, one for him and one for Jeff. Jake filled his own and downed the whiskey. Lloyd eyed him, a little worried Jake might have to consume a bit too much firewater before he got what he came here for. Whiskey and anger were a poor mix for Jake Harkner.

  The entire room grew tense.

  “Come on, boys. We’re just here to relax a bit before we head on out to some of the settlements,” Jake told them.

  One of the players at Jake’s table dealt a hand. “Marshal, you’re after somethin’.”

  “Just a game of cards,” Jake answered. “I’ve been on the trail awhile and need to rest. I’m tired of all the bullshit of this job. Had to come through Hell’s Nest on my way to my next stop, so I figured we’d get in a little card game.”

  “Is that your name for this place?” another asked.

  “Can you think of a better one?”

  “Guess not. It’s just as good as any.” He looked Jake over. “What happened to your face?”

  Jake lit a cigarette. “A little run-in with a shovel.”

  “Did you fight back?”

  “Beat it near to death,” Jake joked.

  “More like whoever owned the shovel, I expect.”

  “Something like that.”

  Jake drew on the cigarette as he studied the heavyset man across the table from him who’d been asking all the questions.

  “You fixin’ to give us some of your money?” the man asked.

  “Could be,” Jake answered. “Last time I played cards it was with my grandson, so I’m a little out of practice with men who know what they’re doing.”

  “You have a grandson?” one of them asked.

  “Sure. Two of them, in fact, and another on the way.” He glanced at Lloyd and grinned. “Maybe two more on the way.”

  “Pretty big family for somebody with a job like yours.”

  Jake threw down two cards and took two more. “The family came first, the job second. I didn’t take it willingly. A judge forced it on me.”

  “Back when you wasn’t no better than the rest of us?”

  Jake eyed the fat man again as he poured himself another shot and drank it down. “I’m still not any better than the rest of you.” He noticed Lloyd also eyed the man closely. His teeth were brown from chewing tobacco and his eyes a very pale blue. His thinning hair was sticking out in all directions, and his checkered shirt showed sweat stains.

  “What’s with the kid over there?” the man asked Jake after passing his hand. “He looks twelve years old compared to you and that big, tall son of yours.”

  “He’s old enough to drink, play cards, sleep with whores, and use a gun,” Jake answered. “That’s good enough for me. Besides that, he’s writing a book about me.”

  “A book? About you?” The man guffawed. “From everything I’ve heard about Jake Harkner, that ought to be one hell of a read!”

  They all laughed.

  “You gonna write about all them whores and all the killin’s?” another man asked Jeff.

  “That’s for you to find out when you read the book,” Jeff answered.

  Jake laid his cards down. A pair of tens. The fat man had a pair of jacks.

  “Thanks for your money, Harkner,” he told Jake. “You need to play cards with somebody who knows what he’s doin’, not a kid.”

  Jake watched the man pull all the cards together. He handed them to the man sitting next to him. “Your deal.” He seemed nervous. They played cards for close to an hour, and Jake tried to make each shot of whiskey last, not wanting to drink so much that his aim might be off or his judgment impaired—yet just enough keep the men around him relaxed and amiable.

  “You new in town?” he asked the fat man with the sweat-stained shirt.

  “Maybe. What’s it to you?”

  “I remember people, that’s all. I don’t remember seeing you here or anyplace else. You new to Oklahoma?”

  “Might be.”

  “Then how did you know about me? You said a book about Jake Harkner would be quite a read.” Jake looked at his hand and discarded one card.

  “Hell, the whole country knows about Jake Harkner,” the fat man answered.

  “Then you didn’t just hear about me recently—from someone looking to pay you to kill me?”

  The room quieted again. Jeff squirmed at the sounds of some kind of wild lovemaking in a curtained-off room at the back of the tent. Obviously a whore was getting, or giving, her money’s worth to some man back there. Those sitting at the card tables didn’t seem the least bit disturbed by the sounds, including Jake and Lloyd, so Jeff struggled to be casual about it himself.

  The fat man eyed Jake closely, still not responding to Jake’s last remark. “Hey, kid,” he finally called out to Jeff. “When you write that book, maybe you can end it with the name of the man who finally killed Jake Harkner.”

  “And who would that be?” Jeff asked.

  Suddenly there came a boom. The fat man flew backward and his chair fell over. Everyone jumped and backed away, including Jeff. Lloyd never moved.

  “Holy sweet Jesus!” one of the players said, looking from the dead fat man, who lay sprawled with a hole in his gut and a pistol still in one hand, to Jake, who slowly set a smoking gun on the table.

  “I wouldn’t mind playing a few more rounds,” Jake said, “unless another one of you is bent on killing me.”

  Everyone just stared at him, clearly wondering how on earth Jake knew the fat man was aiming to shoot him under the table.

  “That was…amazing,” Jeff half mumbled.

  Jake shared a look with Lloyd, who glanced at the dead man. “Shit, Pa, you just made a mess. That piece of blubber has a hole in his gut six inches across.”

  “Then somebody had better clean things up,” Jake answered casually, his cigarette at the corner of his mouth. He poured himself yet another shot of whiskey, leaving the still-smoking gun on the table. “Whose turn is it to deal?”

  The bartender came over and asked another man to help him drag the body outside. Jake drank down the shot of whiskey.

  “Trudy, get us some more beer over here,” a man at Lloyd’s table called out.

  Jake and Lloyd both turned to see the woman named Trudy, who’d just come into the barroom from behind the curtain. Her hair was disheveled and her fancy gold dress buttoned wrong. “What the hell happened in here?” she asked.

  “Jake Harkner just shot that new guy—Frank Gallus.” The man who answered nodded toward Jake, and Trudy sauntered up to Jake. She was perhaps twenty-five or thirty, with long, dark hair and the look of a Mexican about her.

  “So, you’re Jake Harkner. I’ve heard about you.”

  Jake looked her over. “Most folk
s have.”

  “What happened to that handsome face?”

  “Just a little disagreement with someone.”

  “Looks like he won.”

  “I beat the man to a pulp with a belt.”

  Her eyebrows arched. “Well, there’s a novel way of beating on someone.”

  “Some people make it their choice of punishment.”

  Trudy stood behind him, running her hands over his shoulders and up and down his arms. “I’ll bet you’d never treat anyone in your family like that. Fact is, I’ve heard you have quite a nice family, over in Guthrie.”

  The words grabbed Jake and Lloyd’s attention. “Yeah, I have a nice family. Why would that interest you?” Jake folded his hand.

  “Oh, I just thought news about them might be something you’d pay for. And I have some news.”

  A man came from the back room then, his shirt open and his boots and guns in his hand. He glanced at the fat man being dragged out and then at Jake and the still-smoking gun on the table in front of him. He hurried out the door.

  Trudy leaned over and ran her hands down Jake’s chest, under his gun belts, and into his pants. “Would you like to know what I heard about your family?”

  Jake grabbed his gun and shoved it into its holster. “Trudy, when a man has a woman’s hands in his pants, he doesn’t generally feel like talking about his family,” he told her.

  She smiled. “I’ve always heard you’re real familiar with women like me, Jake Harkner. Why don’t you come into that back room and show me just how familiar? Your wife is far, far away. She’ll never know.”

  Far away? What did this woman know? Jake felt alarm building. He grasped her wrists and yanked her hands out of his pants, then stood up, winking at the other players. “You boys go on without me. Enjoy my whiskey if you want.” He scooped up his money and shoved it into his pocket, glancing at Lloyd. “I’ll be back in a bit.” He followed Trudy into the back room.

  Lloyd glanced at the other men. “Nothing like blowing a man’s guts out and then screwing a whore afterward. Pa can go from one to the other without a second thought.”

  One of the men grinned, and another one appeared uncomfortable.

  Once behind the curtain, Trudy pulled Jake to a very messy bed and told him to sit down. She stood in front of him and began removing her clothes. “I’ll make a trade with you, Marshal,” she told him. “You screw me so I can say I got laid by Jake Harkner, and I’ll tell you what I know about your family.”

  “Fine with me.” Jake watched her undress, thinking how different she was compared to Dixie, who would give him any information he needed out of the goodness of her heart. The whore in front of him was the kind he had little use for. He waited until she was completely naked and had climbed onto the bed before acting.

  He rolled on top of her then. She smiled, reaching out to unbuckle his gun belt, but Jake forced all his weight on her and grasped her hair almost painfully. “Now you listen and listen good,” he seethed. “I’ve never hurt a woman in my life. Don’t make me start with you! I’ve known whores from Texas to Montana, and none I was ever with would do what you’re doing! We’re talking about my family here! You’re going to tell me what you know, and I’m not going to have to fuck you to find out! Understand?”

  She tried in vain to pull his hand away.

  “Understand?” he repeated.

  “Yes!” she hissed. Her eyes teared, and Jake let go of her hair but stayed on top of her.

  “You’ve seen Marty Bryant?”

  “I’ve seen him, all right. He paid me good money to bait you if you came here. He said you like whores and it would be easy to get you in here. I just figured I’d get the famous Jake Harkner in my bed before I told him what I know.”

  “You figured wrong.” Jake rolled off of her. “For the first time in my life, I want to hit a woman, and the state I’m in, I’d advise you to answer my questions.”

  Trudy scooted away and pulled a filthy blanket over her nakedness. “What do you want to know?”

  “All of it! How many men does Marty have?”

  “I don’t know for sure. Maybe ten…twelve…could be even more by now. He left here with two more—said he had just about enough to bring you down.”

  “Where did he go?”

  “Back to his place near Guthrie. He talked about making you come to him by getting to…your family because you killed half of his.”

  Jake rubbed at his temples. “Jesus,” he muttered. “Did he mention a specific plan of some kind?”

  She didn’t answer right away. Jake turned and got to his knees on the bed, grasping her face in his hands. “I asked you a question!”

  “Are you going to kill me?”

  “Don’t tempt me!” Jake could hardly believe he’d just spoken the words. Desperation was turning him into something worse than he’d ever been. He let go of her and got off the bed. “Jesus, Trudy, this is my family. How could you not have told me right away? How could you be so rotten as to try to get me in your bed when every second counts? Of all the women I’ve known, you’re the worst kind.” He faced her, wanting to feel sorry for the tears in her eyes, hating the fact that for one quick moment, his father came out of him and raged against a woman. Maybe he hadn’t completely beaten the devil out of himself after all. “I’m asking you again. Did Marty Bryant mention a specific plan?”

  She nodded. “Promise you won’t hurt me when I tell you.”

  Jake felt sick with dread. “I promise.”

  Trudy hung her head. “He said…something about you probably looking for him…so you’d be away from your family. He said them being in town wouldn’t stop him—said he had it figured out. He said it would be hard to just ride into town and try to kidnap people, so he figured he’d start a fire…grab everyone’s attention away from other things. While they were all involved in putting out the fire, he could…”

  “Could what!”

  Trudy got off the bed and backed against a wall. “He could get hold of your daughter, the one you call…an angel…and maybe even the girl your son just married…maybe your grandsons. He said that would bring you to him right quick.”

  Jake felt as though someone was ripping out his heart. Had he been wrong to think his family would be safe in town? “You filthy slut!” he moaned. “How long ago was Bryant here?”

  “About four days ago…”

  Rage like nothing Jake had ever known permeated his whole being. He had to do something to keep him from taking his anger out on this woman.

  He charged into the main room then, kicking over tables, sending money and beer flying. He shoved aside anyone in his way as he headed for the door. “Let’s go!” he ordered Lloyd and Jeff.

  Both men jumped up and followed him out.

  “He’s headed for Guthrie!” Jake shouted. “He’ll take Evie! He’ll take my Evie! Brian won’t be able to stop him, because he won’t be expecting it!” He started to mount up—then suddenly turned and vomited.

  “Jesus Christ,” Lloyd swore. “Pa!” He ran around to his father.

  Jake grabbed his arm. “God, Lloyd, they’ll take Evie, and maybe Little Jake…maybe Stephen and Katie. We never should have left! Evie! My God, Lloyd, you know what Marty Bryant is like. She’s never been touched by anybody but Brian…and she’s pregnant! Bryant will fucking rape her! He’ll rape both of them! He might even kill those kids! Trudy said he meant to start a fire in town to distract them.”

  “Pa—” Lloyd turned away, his own guts tightening with dread. “Jesus!” he swore again. “Jesus God, protect them.” He walked to his horse. “Pa, can you ride?”

  “No choice.” Jake walked to a watering trough, not caring that horses had drunk from it. He scooped water into his mouth and spit it out to rinse it.

  “How did we miss them?” he groaned.

  “They must have d
eliberately taken a different way home,” Lloyd surmised.

  Jake mounted Prince then and charged away. He felt a blackness moving through him like a raging storm. And he swore he could hear the scream of demons.

  Thirty

  They rode like madmen, stopping only to get Ben. They left their horses at the ranch and grabbed fresh ones. Jake rode until well after dark, and Ben fell asleep in his arms. The poor child got handed back and forth among all three men as Jake became relentless in getting back to Guthrie, normally a good six-day ride. On the first night Lloyd finally had to stop Jake, convincing him that without sleep he’d be of no use to finding Evie or Katie. He felt crazy himself with the thought of what Katie or Stephen could be suffering. He wanted blood as bad as Jake did, but the pace they were keeping could kill his father…

  Still, sleep was impossible. All they could do was rest, but true sleep wouldn’t come. Their only goal was to, by some miracle, reach Guthrie before Marty Bryant did. Marty wouldn’t be in near the hurry Jake and Lloyd were. “If he took a different way, it will take him longer than normal,” Jake hoped aloud once, yelling the words to Lloyd.

  Lloyd didn’t know what to do or say. They were up before daylight the next day and off again. Lloyd felt ripped apart by worry over his sister, his mother, his wife, his son, his nephew…and his father, who was like a crazy man.

  Jeff quietly made camp each night and cooked, finding ways to keep poor Ben occupied and trying to explain to the boy what was going on. He urged Jake and Lloyd to eat something, but the only one who ate much at all was young Ben.

  They made it to Dixie’s in two and a half days instead of four, changing horses at various ranches and settlements along the way. When they reached Dixie’s place, Jake walked up and grabbed her close, clinging to her as he stumbled toward the house.

  “Jake, what’s going on? Let go before we both go down.”