Love's Sweet Revenge

by Rosanne Bittner

  “That it is.” Jake glanced at a confused-looking Katie. “Go dance with your wife,” he told Lloyd. “She looks kind of lost and scared.”

  Lloyd nodded to Gretta. “Nice to meet you, ma’am. Thanks for stepping in when you did.” He glanced at Jake again and just shook his head before taking Katie’s arm and urging her away from the table and back to the dance floor.

  “Lloyd, I thought that man was going to try to arrest your father,” Katie told him.

  “Well, he didn’t.”

  “Who’s that woman?”

  “I’ll tell you later.”

  “Is she—”

  “Yes.” Lloyd put his hand to her waist and began turning to the music.

  “Kind of hard to stay out of trouble when you’re Jake Harkner, isn’t it?” Gretta asked Jake.

  Jake nodded. “Sometimes.” He turned to Randy. “Randy, this is the woman I told you about.”

  Randy got up from her chair and touched Gretta’s arm. “Thanks for smoothing things over.”

  “Well, Harley Wicks can be a real sonofabitch,” Gretta answered, glancing over to see Wicks talking with the local sheriff. “He likes to act important, but I have a few things on him that I can use sometimes to knock him down a notch or two, know what I mean?”

  Randy grinned. “I believe I do.” She grasped Jake’s arm. “And you must be the one who told my husband he reeks of sex.”

  Gretta paused and sobered. “He told you?”

  “Jake tells me everything.”

  “And you aren’t upset?”

  “I know Jake all too well. And thank you for helping him pick the right size ring.” She held out her hand, and Gretta studied the ring. She met Randy’s eyes then in a mutual understanding between two women leading very different lives.

  “Ma’am, you should know that Jake picked out that ring. He just wanted me to try it on to see how it fit. You shouldn’t think that someone like me chose something so special. It was all Jake.” She glanced up at Jake, who just smiled.

  “I told you she was quite a woman, Gretta.”

  Gretta met Randy’s eyes again. “Mrs. Harkner, most women in this room turn their backs when I get anywhere near them. They are probably all gossiping about you right now because you’re talking to me.”

  “Why shouldn’t I? You warned Jake about Mike Holt, and I appreciate that. And Jake has always had friends among women of your…profession.”

  Gretta threw her head back and laughed, turning to grasp the arm of the man who’d accompanied her to the dance. “Sam, meet Mr. and Mrs. Jake Harkner.”

  The man nodded to both of them. “It’s a privilege.” He put out his hand, and Jake shook it.

  “Sam here kind of manages my place. Kicks out the no-goods.”

  Jake studied the huge, burly man. “Well, Sam, you look like someone who could kick out a grizzly if he had to.”

  “I do my best to protect the lovely ladies,” Sam answered with a grin that showed a missing eye tooth.

  “And Gretta pays you well?” Jake asked.

  “Very well,” Sam answered enthusiastically.

  Both men laughed, and Jake turned to Gretta. “I’d better take Randy and do some visiting with some of the other cattlemen here.”

  “You go right ahead.” Gretta took Sam’s arm. “Let’s dance, Sam. The other women here need something to talk about behind their fancy fans and gloved hands.”

  The next hour was spent mixing and mingling. While Jake and Lloyd talked business with other cattlemen, their wives and daughters nearly swarmed around Randy and Katie. Randy ached for Evie, who avoided the gatherings and stayed near Brian. She knew Evie feared how some of them would look at her and wonder what it was like to suffer what she’d suffered.

  “Oh, my dear, the things you have been through,” Olivia Draper soothed Randy. Mrs. Draper was the woman who had a flirtatious eye for Jake. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to be married to a man like Jake Harkner.”

  “Actually, it’s quite wonderful,” Randy answered proudly. “Jake is a good husband and father, very loving and caring. Oh, and look at the new wedding ring he bought for me!” Randy eagerly showed the ring, enjoying the chagrined look on Olivia’s face.

  “Oh my, it’s quite beautiful.”

  Several of the other women gathered around to look. “How long have you been married to the man?” one of them asked.

  “Thirty years. Actually, this dance is part of our anniversary celebration.”

  “Well, you both look so young!” another put in. “You have a beautiful family, Mrs. Harkner. With your newfound fame, you should move to Denver. There are so many social societies you could join, and some feel your husband would make the perfect sheriff for our county. I’ve heard some of the other men say so.”

  Randy shook her head. “Jake is done with that kind of work. I’ve spent most of our marriage wondering if and when Jake was coming home, or if he would make it home at all. We are perfectly happy with the peace we have found on the J&L.” Randy glanced over at Lloyd and Jake sharing laughter with several of the men.

  “Perfectly happy? That’s not what I heard from Henry Porter,” another said snidely behind a fan. “I’ve heard your husband has an affinity for prostitutes.”

  There came a few gasps.

  Randy faced her squarely. “Oh, you must mean Gretta MacBain,” she shot right back, wanting them all to know she wasn’t the poor, abused wife who was ignorant of the truth. “Men like Jake have unusual friends, and there is a reason, Mrs. Lane. Perhaps you wouldn’t trust your own husband around such women, but I totally trust mine.”

  The woman’s eyes widened with indignation, and she marched away.

  “Don’t mind her, Mrs. Harkner,” another spoke up. “That’s Corinne Oates, and she’s the worst gossip in all of Denver.”

  The rest of them twittered and laughed.

  “What’s he really like?” another asked. “I can’t imagine being married to someone so handsome and able but with such a reputation. How do you handle a man like that? Is he as ruthless as they say?”

  Randy was getting tired of all the questions. She just smiled and shook her head. “Only when he is protecting his own or if…” She sighed. “Down inside he’s just another man who wants to be loved and who is good to his family.” She decided to give them what they were after. “And he adores women. He can be quite the gentleman, and he’s very good at… Well, let’s just say he’s good at making a woman feel beautiful.”

  They all giggled and some blushed. Jake walked over to rejoin Randy then, and the women all gawked at him, some blushing harder. Jake smiled and nodded to them. “Ladies, I would like to dance with my wife again.”

  Obviously flustered, they backed away as Jake pulled Randy out onto the dance floor. “The tension was a bit thick over there,” he told her. “You okay?”

  “I am wonderful,” Randy answered with a smile. “They are all properly curious and imagining all kinds of things about you and me. I gave them an earful.”

  He pulled her close again. “Well then, let’s add to their curiosity by dancing too close.” He whirled her around the floor again as Brian walked Evie over to the table where punch and champagne and cookies were being served.

  “You sure you want to do this?” Brian asked Evie.

  “All us women need to take a turn serving. I’ll be fine.”

  He kept an arm around her and kissed her cheek. “I’d like to talk to Dr. Cook over there about some new findings on pain drugs. I’m getting rusty.”

  “Brian, if you want to move closer to town and restart a practice, I’ll make do. I’m taking you away from what you really want to do.”

  He kissed her lightly. “I want you to be where you feel happiest, Evie, and that’s with your family. I’ll manage just fine. I just want to find out what books and articl
es I might be able to take back with me to study.” He squeezed her hand. “Don’t be concerned about my practice. I certainly get plenty of chances for doctoring on the ranch.” He looked around as if to check to see if anything was out of the ordinary. “I won’t be long.”

  He left, and Evie turned to another woman at the table. “You can go join your husband for a dance, if you would like,” she told her. “I’m Evie Stewart. I thought I would take my turn serving punch.”

  “Oh, thank you! You’re Jake Harkner’s daughter, aren’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve heard what a kind woman of faith you are. My husband is a preacher here in Denver. Daryl French. I’m Linda French. Whenever you come here and want to go to church, you come and visit us, Mrs. Stewart. It’s the Methodist Church on the east side of town.”

  “Thank you! I would like that.”

  “Well, from all I’ve heard, you are a great testament to faith and forgiveness. Please don’t take offense, but many of us, especially the women, respect you for how you’ve risen above…what happened to you.”

  “I don’t take offense at all. Thank you for the invitation.”

  Linda French left, and Evie began pouring punch into glasses with a large dipper. Several people came and went, all kind and smiling, some asking what it was like to be the daughter of a rather infamous man.

  “My father is wonderful,” she would always answer.

  “Well, he has a very beautiful daughter,” one man told her. “You’re even prettier when a man can see those big, dark eyes.”

  Evie frowned at the neatly dressed and decent-looking man. His teeth were a bit yellow, and one eye tooth was missing, but he seemed clean and gentlemanly. “Excuse me?” she asked. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  He moved around the table, standing closer. “You have beautiful eyes. I couldn’t see them that day back at Dune Hollow, when you were blindfolded.”

  Evie felt as though all the blood was running out of her through her feet.

  “Something wrong?” he asked. “You look pale in spite of that lovely dark skin,” he told her. “I’ve always thought women with Mexican blood were more beautiful than most.”

  Evie stumbled backward, reaching for something for support but grabbing the punch bowl instead. It tipped over and went crashing to the floor, drawing everyone’s attention.

  After that, her whole world changed—as did that of her whole family.

  Nineteen

  Seconds.

  Everyone turned at the sound of the crashing punch bowl.

  Brian saw Evie standing speechless, gaping at a man near her. He knew instantly who it was. “My God!” He charged toward her, unaware the music had stopped, or that people gasped and backed away, or that he shoved some of them out of the way as he ran to Evie.

  Seconds.

  Lloyd was faster. As soon as the punch bowl crashed and he turned to see why, he, too, headed for Evie. Somewhere in the unreal events unfolding, Brian heard Lloyd roar, “Get away from my sister, you sonofabitch!”

  Someone else shouted, “Everybody down!” Was that Jake?

  Lloyd reached Mike Holt, bolting right over the food table and sending food and punch cups flying.

  More crashing sounds.

  Brian and Lloyd reached Evie at nearly the same time.

  Holt had already drawn a gun that just one second earlier no one knew he even had.

  Seconds.

  Brian grabbed Evie and literally tackled her to the floor, staying on top of her to shield her. Even as they went down, he heard the loud boom of Holt’s gun…heard people scream.

  “Oh my God! Lloyd! Lloyd!” Was that Katie screaming?

  More people screamed. People were running out of the room. Brian saw someone duck behind chairs in one corner of the room, and at the same time Lloyd’s body came crashing down close to where Brian held Evie on the floor.

  Seconds. How many had passed? Two? Three?

  “Lloyd!” This time it was Evie, screaming at the sight of Lloyd lying there with a bloody hole in his chest. He didn’t move. In wide-eyed terror, Brian saw Mike Holt move to stand over Lloyd, preparing to shoot again. “How does it feel to be shot down when you’re unarmed?” he screamed.

  A dark figure loomed close then.

  “How does it feel to have your head blown off when you are armed?” a voice growled.

  Jake.

  The room became dead silent.

  Holt froze. “I was told no one could bring guns to this dance,” he told Jake.

  “I’m never without a gun, and you are fucking dead!”

  “My gun is cocked!” Holt told Jake, panic in his voice. “You shoot me, and it will go off—another bullet into your son or maybe your daughter or some innocent—”

  He didn’t get a chance to finish. In an instant, Jake grabbed the man’s wrist and shoved his gun hand upward. Holt’s gun went off, skimming across Jake’s shoulder.

  More screams.

  “Jake, no!” Randy screamed from somewhere.

  Seconds. Jake didn’t even flinch when Holt’s bullet ripped through his upper shoulder. In a black rage he shoved Holt to the floor, his knee in the man’s chest and his .44 pressed against his forehead. “I wouldn’t want my bullet to go through your skull and into someone else,” Jake growled, “so it’s best you’re against the floor when I pull this trigger!”

  Holt stared at him in wide-eyed terror.

  “Daddy, don’t!” Evie screamed. Too late…and fruitless. She watched in horror as Jake fired the gun. The boom of the famous .44 made people jump and scream.

  Evie broke into terrified sobs as she buried her face into Brian’s shoulder. “Daddy! My God, Daddy!”

  Mike Holt lay there with a huge, gaping hole in his forehead while blood streamed from under his head.

  Jake rose, his shoulder bleeding, smoke coming from the barrel of his gun.

  “Lloyd!” Katie screamed again, running across the room to kneel beside her husband. “Oh my God! Oh my God! Lloyd! He’s dead! He’s dead!”

  In a moment, Randy was beside her. Jake looked around at those remaining in the room, all staring as they stood frozen in place, women whimpering.

  “Some of you want to know what Jake Harkner the outlaw was like!” Jake roared.

  Evie clung to Brian. “Daddy, stop!”

  “You’ve just met him!” Jake finished. “Anyone comes against me right now, and this gun goes off again!” He slowly moved the gun around the room.

  No one moved.

  “Brian, see if my son is”—Jake’s voice wavered—“dead or alive.”

  Brian moved off Evie and scuttled over to kneel beside Lloyd. Evie curled up and wept. Jake pointed his gun at a group of cattlemen. “You! If Lloyd is still alive, I’m asking some of you to please help get him”—his voice wavered again—“to his room.”

  Jake watched everyone carefully as Brian ripped open Lloyd’s white ruffled shirt, now stained with blood. He checked for a pulse.

  “Lloyd. Oh God, Lloyd,” Evie continued sobbing, her words and tears mixed with Katie’s.

  “Tell me he’s still alive,” Jake asked Brian, his voice gruff with rage and sorrow.

  “He is,” Brian answered.

  “Some of you men get over here and help carry Lloyd up to his room!” Jake roared. “Brian, you go with them. Evie, Katie…” Jake took a moment to glance at Randy. The devastation they both felt hung thick between them. “Randy…all of you go with them!”

  “Jake, this isn’t something I can handle alone,” Brian told him. “There is a doctor here I was just talking to. He’s one of the best. I’d like him to go with me.”

  “Which one of you is he talking about?” Jake demanded, again keeping his .44 pointed at the crowd.

  Dr. Graham Cook stepped forward, swallowing
nervously. “Me.”

  “Are you any good with bullet wounds?”

  “Yes, sir. It’s my specialty.”

  “Then go with my son-in-law!” Jake ordered.

  “Mr. Harkner, I’ll have to run over to the hospital first and get instruments and supplies, and something for pain.”

  “Then do it! And you’d better by God get back here alone! And fast! My son is likely”—the word caught in Jake’s throat, and he struggled not to break down—“dying!”

  “I’ll be back fast as I can,” the doctor told him, hurrying out.

  Jake looked at the cattlemen he’d asked to help carry Lloyd to his room. “Move!” he roared. “Time is important! Get Lloyd up to his room so my son-in-law can do something for him!”

  They quickly obeyed.

  “Jake,” Randy said softly, moving beside him. She dared to touch his arm. When he was like this, even she feared setting him off so he’d do something worse—not to her…never to her—but this was the ruthless Jake she’d first met, and when he was in that dark place, he was unpredictable. “He’s still alive,” she said in a shaking voice, wanting to scream Lloyd’s name in anguish. She had to stay calm… “Please put your gun away before someone innocent gets hurt.”

  Jake looked at her, and again Randy nearly gasped at the rage she saw there. He was the Jake she’d shot thirty years ago because she was so afraid of him—the Jake who’d blown a man away in the supply store where he first set eyes on Miranda Hayes. “You and Katie go on up to the room with Brian and Evie like I told you,” he told her firmly. “And I’m damn well not putting this gun down! Not yet!”

  “Jake.” She nearly groaned the word.

  “Go!” It was a quiet command. Randy knew there was no arguing with him—not when he was like this. She wanted to scream and weep and collapse to the floor, but she told herself to stay strong for Katie and Evie…and for Jake.

  “I’ll be along,” Jake told her, his eyes gleaming with the look of an outlaw, his voice cold.