The Last Outlaw

by Rosanne Bittner

  “No, sir. I’m sorry. I heard the doctor say he was still alive. That’s all I know. I walked over to the telegraph office to tell them what happened so’s they could telegraph the news, and then an old man came over and said as how your mother said somebody should come and get you as fast as possible. I just got my new motorized bike, so I said I’d go. I took the train to Brighton and then rode here from there. I came fast as I could. Without having to rest a horse, I made it in two days.”

  There might be an advantage to motorized vehicles after all, but there wasn’t time to worry about that now. Lloyd turned to Katie. “I already have Strawberry ready to ride. I was going to go out to the southeast quarter and check for more strays, but now I’ll have to ride to Brighton and catch that train. Pa would have left our carriage there to store while he and Mom took the train on into Boulder, so we’ll use that to bring him home…if he’s even alive.” His voice broke on the last word.

  “Lloyd, Jake is tough as nails. You know that. You have to believe he’s all right.”

  Lloyd looked at Connor. “Thank you for hurrying here to let us know. Rest yourself a spell. Katie has lemonade in an icebox inside. She’ll give you some.”

  “Lloyd, what about Tricia? I should go with you,” Katie argued. “She’ll need her mommy.”

  “You’re still nursing. You stay here. Evie will need your support, too. You know how she is about Pa. And if Brian and I go alone, we’ll be able to travel faster. Tricia is with Teresa, and she loves that woman to death. She’ll be fine.”

  By then Evie had come running back. “Brian is getting ready,” she told Lloyd. “I missed what happened.”

  “Connor can explain when Brian and I leave. We’ve got to get to Boulder and see about this. Pa is hurt, but this young man here doesn’t know for sure how bad.” He saw his sister’s terror. She worshipped her father, and after everything… He grasped his sister’s arms. “Evie, you know Pa. Is there a tougher man on the face of the earth?”

  She looked up at him, tears in her eyes. “I know, but—he’s still just human, Lloyd. Mother was always so afraid she’d see him killed in a hail of bullets. Maybe—”

  “Don’t think that way! They thought I was dead, too, last summer in Denver, but I survived. Right?”

  Evie nodded, suddenly hugging her brother. Lloyd put his arms around her. “Don’t you worry. He’ll be just fine.”

  “It was quite something!” Connor told Evie. “Your father shot those men even while they held hostages right in front of them! A person couldn’t ask for a better show of gunplay than what people saw during that robbery!”

  Evie put a hand to her stomach, remembering Dune Hollow…when her father shot the man holding her, using a rifle from so far away she couldn’t even see him. She’d felt the bullet whiz by her cheek, and the only thing she’d seen just before that was the glint of a rifle barrel. It would be impossible to make out anything else. She knew better than most how accurate Jake Harkner could be.

  “I’m sure the papers are full of stories today,” Connor told them. “Jake Harkner, the famous ex-outlaw, foiling a bank robbery!”

  “I wish I could have seen Grampa shoot those men!” Little Jake exclaimed.

  Evie pulled away from her brother. “Go inside, Little Jake. Set out some glasses for your aunt Katie so she can pour some lemonade for all of us.” She saw a glint of tears in the eight-year-old’s eyes. Her son loved his grandfather beyond measure. He practically worshipped the man, and yearned to be all grown-up and able to carry his own guns. He and Stephen and Jake’s adopted son, Ben, had been hurt last winter trying to defend their grandmother when men came to drag her off. They rode out with Jake and Lloyd and several ranch hands to find and rescue her. They were just boys striving to be men, and the descendants of a man whose reputation would follow them everywhere. She looked up at Lloyd. “What about mother?”

  Lloyd sighed, removing his hat and shaking his long, black hair behind his shoulders. “I don’t know. Connor here says when they carried Pa off to a doctor, she just sat there in the street, looking confused. You know what that means. She must be terrified. I’ve got to get there fast.”

  Evie looked away. “Poor mother.”

  Brian came running, carrying a small carpetbag of clothes and his doctor’s bag. At almost the same time, Terrel came from the barn with a saddled horse.

  “What’s going on?” Brian asked Lloyd.

  “We have to go to Brighton and catch a train to Boulder. I’ll explain everything on the way. Pa’s been hurt.” He looked at Brian, deciding to make light of it, because at the moment he wanted to cry himself. “So what else is new? The man doesn’t have enough scars already.”

  Brian sighed, adjusting his hat. “I’m running out of places to stitch him up.”

  “Yeah.” Lloyd sobered. “I have no idea how bad he is, Brian, and it’s been close to three days since it happened. I guess I’ll have to give in and see if we can get a telephone out here so we can find out these things sooner. Go ahead and mount up. I’m going inside to get my rifle and some clothes.” He stopped to shake Connor’s hand. “Thanks for hightailing it out here. It’s a long trip across the J&L, let alone between here and Brighton. My wife will see to it you get paid something for your trouble.”

  “Oh, no, sir. It’s an honor to have seen your father in action, and to meet you, too.”

  Lloyd just shook his head. “Yeah, well, I’ve seen my father in action one too many times.” He put an arm around Katie and headed for the house. “The women will give you something to eat and drink before you head back,” he called to the messenger. He opened the door, and Katie hurried inside to lay Donavan on a blanket on the floor. She then quickly set a pitcher of lemonade on the table while Lloyd headed into the bedroom to grab a couple of clean shirts. He stuffed them into a small carpetbag and grabbed up his rifle from a corner of the room, then hurried back into the kitchen.

  Katie looked at him with tear-filled eyes. “Oh, Lloyd, I hope your father isn’t wounded really bad. The state your mother is in, she couldn’t handle that.”

  “Yeah, well, a man can only take so much, and he’s getting older—and don’t tell him I said that. He hates it when I tease him about his age, but God knows he’s tough as ever.” He rubbed at his eyes. “I’m not so sure even I could take it if something happened to Pa. We covered each other’s backs for so many years as lawmen back in Oklahoma.”

  “Be careful, Lloyd.” Katie walked around the table and reached up.

  Lloyd pulled her into his arms, then kissed her deeply when she looked up at him. “You just sit tight and take good care of our new son,” he told her. “We’ll get back here with Pa as fast as we can. If it’s going to be a while, we’ll send a runner back out to let you know how he’s doing, or if…” He didn’t want to finish the sentence.

  “It will be okay,” Katie tried to reassure him. She touched his cheek, then leaned up to kiss him once more. “You’d better get going.”

  “Yeah.” Lloyd left her and headed for the door. He took his gun belt and six-gun from where it hung over the doorjamb, where it was always ready to grab in case of trouble. All kinds of things could happen fast on a ranch as big as the J&L.

  “Give Connor Grace two or three dollars for his trouble,” he told Katie. He headed out the door, hooking the bag of clothes over his saddle horn and then strapping on his gun belt.

  Connor Grace watched him. “Is it true you’re as good with those guns as your father, Mr. Harkner?” he asked.

  Lloyd mounted up. “Nobody is as good with a gun as Jake Harkner,” he answered. He rode off, Brian following.

  Ten

  “Daddy!” Little Tricia ran off the hotel porch to greet her father before he even climbed down from the buggy he’d rented when the train arrived in Boulder.

  Lloyd leaned down and scooped her up, hugging her tight as she wrapped her littl
e arms around his neck.

  “How’s my baby girl?” Lloyd asked, kissing her chubby cheek. “Daddy heard you and Grampa were in a big gunfight, and I was so scared for you.”

  Tricia kissed him back. “I’m okay, Daddy, but Grampa got hurt! I was scared!” Her eyes began to tear.

  “I know, baby. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here. Are Grandma and Grandpa okay?”

  Tricia nodded. “Teresa took me to see them at the doctor’s office. Grampa was sitting up, but Grandma was laying down on a bed beside his. She looked real tired, and Grampa said I shouldn’t jump on her bed.”

  Lloyd felt tremendous relief at what she’d said about Jake, but he felt sick inside at what this must have done to his mother. If a child as young as Tricia actually thought her grandmother looked tired, that wasn’t good. Kids usually didn’t notice those things. “I’m just glad my baby girl is okay.”

  “Those men were shooting! Bang! Bang! Bang! It hurt my ears.” Her arms flailed around as she excitedly told her story. “Grampa shot right back, and I felt a bullet whiz right by me. I know that’s what it was, ’cuz the man holding me fell down and dropped me. I wiggled away, and I laid right down on the ground like Grampa said to do. And then Teresa laid on top of me. It was funny, ’cuz she said she was scared she would smash me.”

  Lloyd grinned and kissed her cheek again. He looked at Teresa, who stood watching near the hotel doorway. She was a hefty woman and laughed at Tricia’s remark. “I did not put all my weight on the little one, señor.”

  Lloyd winked at her. “Rodriguez was glad to hear you’re all right, Teresa. Thank you for helping save my daughter. I don’t know what this family would do without you and Rodriguez.”

  “It is your father who did the saving. I am glad he is better.”

  Tricia kissed her father’s cheek several times over as Brian greeted Teresa.

  “Is Jake really doing better?” he asked her.

  “Sí, Señor Doctor Brian, but he will be very sore for a while.”

  “I wanna see Mommy,” Tricia said with a pout. “Is she here, too?”

  “Mommy had to stay home with baby Don. I’ll make sure we all get home real soon, and then you can see her and help Mommy with the baby again.”

  Tricia’s bright smile returned, showing dimpled cheeks and tiny white teeth. She had her mother’s red hair, but Tricia’s was a mass of curls. Lloyd had to smile at the contrast to his own long, nearly black hair, which his father was constantly chiding him about. Too bad for Jake; Katie liked it long.

  He gave Tricia another hug and buzzed her neck, making her scream and laugh. He looked at Teresa. “I didn’t know what I would find here,” he told her. “Thank you, Teresa, for watching over her and keeping her from being scared.” He handed Tricia to her uncle Brian, who gave her big hug.

  “Well, now, you don’t look hurt at all, Tricia. I’m very glad.”

  “Yeah, you don’t have to make me take any medicine,” she answered.

  Teresa stepped closer to Lloyd. “I think your father, he will be fine. He is such a strong man.”

  Lloyd removed his Stetson and wiped at sweat that had formed on his brow from the unusually warm day. “You don’t need to tell me that,” he told her. “It’s my mother I’m worried about.”

  “Sí, señor. You are right to worry about her. Your father, he has been insisting that she eat. He, too, is worried. She is so thin. He says he is afraid that if he touches her wrong, she will break.”

  A man holding a camera ran up to Lloyd. “Are you Lloyd Harkner?”

  Lloyd scowled at having his conversation interrupted. “What’s it to you?”

  “They say you’re as good with guns as your father, and when I saw you—I could tell from looking at you that you must be the son! You look just like him except for that Indian hair! You should have seen it! That shoot-out is the talk of the town! I saw the whole thing, you know. Your pa was in the street, and he suddenly started telling people to get out of the way! He shot a couple of those men right off their horses, and then more came out of the bank holding your mother and that little girl there, and two more. Most men would have been too afraid to shoot in a situation like that, but your father—”

  “Slow the hell down!” Lloyd interrupted. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Dick Crenshaw, a reporter for the local newspaper. Can I get a picture?”

  “No! I haven’t even seen my father yet, and I’m a little upset and concerned at the moment, so go away. After last summer, my father and I don’t need or want any more publicity.”

  “You mean that big shooting in Denver? You look pretty good for being shot point-blank. Boy, I wish I’d been there to see what your father did to—”

  “Shut up, Crenshaw!” Lloyd barked. “I said we don’t need any more publicity, and if you think my father has a temper, keep pushing me, and you’ll find out what my temper is like!”

  Crenshaw, a small man wearing a tweed suit and a white shirt with a collar that looked too tight, backed away at the look in Lloyd’s dark eyes. “Sir, I just thought—”

  “You thought wrong. The last thing this family needs is newspaper headlines all over the country again, which I’m sure has already happened. My father has enough trouble with men who are out to make a name for themselves. This kind of news just brings that much more attention.”

  The reporter backed away more, and Lloyd turned to Brian. “Let’s go see my dad. Something tells me my mother needs you worse than Jake does. You know how he is. He gets meaner than a skunk when these things happen, and he’s probably worried about my mom.”

  Brian handed Tricia to Teresa. “I’m worried, too.”

  Still irritated over the nosy reporter, Lloyd turned to him, scowling. “Where is the doctor’s office?”

  Crenshaw swallowed before answering. He turned and pointed down the street. “About a block down—that building that’s painted yellow. I, uh, I hope he’s doing better.”

  Lloyd sighed, angry with himself for being so rude. “I’m sorry, Mr. Crenshaw, but I’m worried about my father.” Lloyd turned to Brian. “Let’s go.” He tied the horse and buggy to a post in front of the hotel. “Get us an extra room, Teresa,” he told the woman. “We’ll probably stay the night. I’m hoping we can take my parents home with us tomorrow. We’ll have Brian with us, so if either one of them needs a doctor, we’ll have one.”

  “Sí, Señor Harkner, I will get a room.”

  Lloyd walked toward the doctor’s office, lighting a cigarette on the way. He tried to remember a time when his life hadn’t been in some kind of turmoil because of his father. Leave it to Jake Harkner to walk right in on a bank robbery.

  “Here we go again,” he muttered.

  Eleven

  Constance came into Jake’s room and leaned close to him, speaking softly. “Your son is here, Mr. Harkner. I told him to wait outside because your wife is sleeping. Are you able to walk outside to talk with him?”

  Jake moved to the edge of the bed and sat up. “Of course I can,” he answered quietly. “Help me get dressed.” He winced as he took a pair of denim pants from where they lay over a nearby chair. “I can’t quite bend over yet enough to get my feet into these damn things.”

  Constance smiled, kneeling down and helping him get his feet into the pants. “I’m still not used to your cussing, Mr. Harkner, but I’m trying.”

  “Sorry. The words just fall out of my mouth.” Jake stood up, and Constance pulled the pants up with him. She stepped away as he buttoned them. “I have to tell you that some of my friends are very jealous that I get to care for you,” she told him. “They’ve asked some very personal questions.”

  Jake softly laughed. “I don’t think I want to know what they were.”

  “I told them I’ve never seen a man your age in such good shape. I’m taking great pleasure in teasing them about that.”

&nb
sp; Jake shook his head as he pulled a leather belt through loops on the pants, then faced Constance. “We didn’t get off to a very good start, but that was six days ago, and I was in a lot more pain.” He took a shirt from the back of the chair and pulled it on. “Thanks for all you’ve done, and for looking after my wife.”

  “It’s been a pleasure,” Constance answered.

  Jake left his shirt open and took a gun from his gun belt, which hung nearby on the bedpost. He shoved the gun into his belt on his right side, away from his still-bandaged wound. “I’ll likely leave tomorrow, Constance. I’ll miss you.”

  He walked out, and Constance glanced at Randy, who slept soundly. What have you been through? she wondered. Such a beautiful man physically, and so loving, yet he shot those men the other day without hesitation. How could any man even hope to turn out decent with a past like his? What had Mrs. Harkner seen in him all those years ago?

  She began pulling covers off Jake’s bed, figuring she might as well change them. She smiled at the gasps and twitters and giggles from her friends who wanted to know all about Jake. He’s one hell of a man, she’d told them. Hard muscle everywhere, his hair still thick but with just that little bit of white in it, his smile unnerving because it’s so handsome. I envy his wife, but then again, sometimes I don’t.

  * * *

  Jake gingerly walked outside, where Lloyd and Brian straightened from where they’d been leaning against the railing.

  “Pa!” Lloyd walked up and gave his father an embrace. “You’re walking!”

  “Hell yes, I’m walking.” Jake slapped his son’s shoulder. “It’s good to see you, Lloyd.”

  Lloyd stepped back. “Damn it, Pa, I didn’t know what the hell to expect.” He quickly wiped at an embarrassing tear. “I wish I’d been here for the big shoot-out. It would have been kind of like the old days of riding together.”

  “Yeah, well, those old days are behind us, and good riddance.” Jake turned to Brian and gave him a quick embrace. “Brian. Looks like I’ve proven again that this family is enough to keep a doctor busy full-time.”