Outlaw Hearts

by Rosanne Bittner

  He smiled sadly. “How can I, with my ever-hopeful wife around?” He faced her, putting a hand to her face. “See if that attorney can arrange it for me to clean up and shave before I have to face the judge. Get me some clean clothes.”

  “I will.”

  “Jess with you?”

  “He’s out in the main area with Evie.”

  “Good. I don’t want you walking around without him, understand? Some men get strange ideas about women married to criminals.”

  “Oh, Jake, you’re no criminal. Not now.”

  “I mean it. Keep Jess with you. He’ll watch after you, gladly.” He met her eyes. “The man loves you, you know.”

  She felt herself blushing. “Jake Harkner, what makes you think that?”

  “I don’t think it. I know it. If something happens to me…”

  “Jake, stop it! There could never be anyone else for me.”

  “You aren’t that old, and you’re a beautiful woman. I need to know someone will love you, take care of you. I wouldn’t mind if it was Jess.”

  Her throat ached with a need to cry. “I can take care of myself, Jake Harkner! I did it before you came along and I can do it again. Don’t go pushing me into some other man’s arms just yet. You might be coming home with me.”

  He shook his head. “You know I won’t, Randy.”

  Their eyes held. They both felt the agony of needing to be together just once more. They would not make love again, never again enjoy the freedom and happiness they had shared for the last nineteen years. There had been bad times, but they had gotten through them. This was the worst, and, she thought, perhaps he was right. Perhaps he wouldn’t be coming home, ever.

  A guard came to the cell door then. “Time to go, Mrs. Harkner.”

  Miranda blinked back tears. “Keep faith, Jake.” Her voice began to break. “Remember what I said, about how we were meant to be? I still believe it. God will bring us through this. Lloyd too. You’ll see.”

  He gave her a weak smile. “I’ll see you at the trial.”

  The guard unlocked the door, and she stepped out. She looked back at Jake. They had not even kissed, and she knew he wanted it that way. “Good-bye, Jake,” she said softly, remembering the day she had said it years ago when he rode off and left her back in Kansas City.

  ***

  The courthouse was packed, as it had been for the three days of Jake’s trial. The general public, many for whom the days of lawlessness during and after the war were a vague memory, or younger ones who did not remember those days at all, were there out of curiosity, to see a “real outlaw.” Others who had stronger, more painful memories of those days, were there to see that the “goddamn, murdering rapist” paid his just dues.

  A few testified against Jake about the robbery and the abduction in question, and Attorney Steven Mattson, a young lawyer who had taken the case for Miranda at a reduced fee because she’d convinced him Jake was innocent of the charges, did an excellent job of discrediting some of them. He pointed out the fact that after twenty years, memories can become vague. After so long a time, how could they possibly remember seeing Jake at the scene? Several of the others in Kennedy’s gang dressed like Jake did then, carried several guns, were just as big, some bearded.

  Miranda was furious at the prosecutor for bringing up things totally unrelated to the specific charges for which Jake was being tried. The man kept mentioning other raids and robberies that “men like Jake Harkner” had committed before and after the war. He put Lieutenant Gentry on the stand. The man testified that as a Confederate agent during the war he had bought stolen guns from Jake, guns Jake had killed to get.

  Mattson protested vehemently. “But you had no reservations about buying those illegal guns, did you, Lieutenant?” he shot back. “Even though you knew men had died in their taking. I will remind you, Lieutenant, that there was a war going on at the time! Men do strange things in time of war. A lot of innocent people usually die, but it’s forgiven because it was war. How many innocent people did you kill in the war, Lieutenant?”

  The courtroom had broken into pandemonium for several minutes. Once the judge managed to calm things down, Mattson argued that nothing else Jake did or was rumored to have done should be considered. Affidavits from old acquaintances supporting Jake were read to the court. Zane Parker showed up to testify that he had indeed been a dependable ranch foreman for years, but Miranda did not miss the man’s cool attitude toward her and Jake. There had been a brief recess after his testimony, and the man had stopped to talk to Jake.

  “I’m sorry about all of this, Jake. I’ve done all I can do.” He looked at Miranda. “I just hope you understand why I can’t let your son see my Beth any longer. In fact, Beth has married and moved to Chicago.”

  “Married!” Miranda’s heart fell.

  “Who?” Jake asked. “And why? Why didn’t you just send her to school?”

  “I can only tell you the man is reputable and is quite fond of her. Marriage was the only way to make sure she didn’t try to see Lloyd. She understands it was the best thing to do.”

  Miranda had watched after him in disbelief. The man had forced his daughter to marry a man she didn’t love!

  “This will kill Lloyd,” Jake had told her. “Maybe he already knows.” He had looked around the courtroom, as he was doing now, searching for his son, but still he had not come. There was only Evie, faithful Evie, who had wept so many tears and stayed by her mother’s side through it all. She sat behind her father, with her mother and Jess.

  Finally Miranda herself was able to take the stand. Jake watched her with an aching love. So brave and strong and devoted. She looked especially beautiful, in a russet-colored, beautifully pressed cotton dress with white lace trim around the moderately cut bodice. Her hair was done up in curls, topped with a fashionable hat that matched her dress and sported tiny flowers. She was every bit the lady, looking refined, sitting straight and proud, showing absolutely no shame or embarrassment for being Jake Harkner’s wife.

  Miranda’s testimony as to the kind of man he was left the courtroom silent, until the prosecutor asked her to explain how she had met Jake. When she told about shooting him, a courtroom mumble grew to a near roar of gossip and laughter that caused the judge to pound his gavel in order to bring order. The prosecutor began badgering her, asking her about other violent incidents, Jake’s work in Virginia City, the shoot-out in California. “Why in God’s name did you marry such a violent man, Mrs. Harkner?”

  Miranda watched Jake quietly for a moment. “I married Jake because I fell in love with the real man beneath all the bravado,” she answered, facing the jury. “I learned about his battered childhood. His father beat him severely and often, killed his mother and little brother. You have heard the awful story that he killed his father. He did it because he was only fifteen years old, and his father was raping a girl even younger. He didn’t know how to stop the man, so he shot him. After that, he was an orphaned young man with no direction in life, a young man who knew nothing about love, either how to give it or receive it. He led a life of wandering and getting into trouble. I taught him it was all right to be proud of himself, all right to let people love him. With me and through the children he found a whole new world like nothing he had known before.”

  “That’s enough, Mrs. Harkner,” the prosecutor interrupted.

  “Let her finish,” the judge told the man.

  Miranda kept her eyes on Jake. “I have loved Jake Harkner for almost twenty years,” she continued. “I have never for one moment regretted marrying him, and at his side I have known nothing but happiness. He has been a gentle man who never once raised a hand to either of his children. He never told them about his past because he loved them so much and was afraid of losing their love.”

  She looked up at the judge. “The man on trial here today, sir, is far different from the man whose picture is on th
ose twenty-year-old wanted posters. The old Jake Harkner is a stranger.” She looked at Jake, proud of how nice he looked today in spite the weight he had lost, the way he had aged. He was still her handsome Jake. She had picked out a pair of black cotton trousers and new leather boots for him. He wore a white silk shirt that made him look even darker. The collar of the shirt was dressed with a black string tie, and he wore a black suit coat.

  She turned to look at the jurors then. “Jake is a man with many scars, both physical and emotional, all put there by a violent, brutal father. He survived and brought himself out of that hell. He is a changed man, and the new Jake Harkner does not deserve to be hanged or put in prison. He has already suffered much worse punishment through his own struggles and nightmares. As far as the things he is charged for here, he was not with Kennedy’s men that day. If the girl he helped that day were here, she would tell you he risked his life to rescue her from them. That’s why Bill Kennedy searched for Jake afterward, for revenge. That is what led to the shoot-out in California.”

  She looked defiantly at the prosecutor, as though to dare him to come up with something else to try to make Jake look bad. The man glowered at her. “You’re a clever woman, Mrs. Harkner, but then a woman who lives with a wanted man has to learn to be clever, doesn’t she? She has to constantly be changing her name, lying to her children and her friends. She has to pretend life has been all honey and roses to try to convince others her husband is a changed man, because if she doesn’t, she might suffer at his hands.”

  “I have never suffered at my husband’s hands. I have suffered more these last few minutes under your questioning than I ever did in nearly twenty years of living with Jake Harkner.”

  The man’s face reddened as several in the courtroom chuckled. The judge pounded his gavel and things quieted again. Jake’s attorney rose, smiling. “Your Honor, I was going to ask Mrs. Harkner a few more questions, but she has already answered them. I daresay her testimony just now has done more than anything else I could say at this moment. I would like her to step down and I will call Mr. Harkner himself.”

  Miranda rose as deputies unlocked Jake’s handcuffs but left ankle cuffs on him, making it difficult to walk to the stand. As they passed each other, Miranda touched his arm. “Yo te quiero, mi esposo,” she said softly, giving him a supportive smile. If only the girl he had rescued were here to testify. Louella Griffith, the court had said her name was, but there was no longer any trace of her in St. Louis.

  For close to an hour, Jake was grilled. He refused to react with anger or violence when the prosecutor kept bringing up other facets of his past, including what had happened with his father. Miranda was proud of his composure. He fully denied having any part of the robbery in question, told his own story of how he had found Miss Griffith with Kennedy’s men and had stolen her away from them and taken her home.

  “Miss Griffith never said anything about anyone ‘rescuing’ her,” the prosecutor put in. “It was assumed she was dumped on her parents’ doorstep after you and Kennedy and the others were through with her. She suffered so much shame and horror that she was delirious. Her family moved away without a trace, probably to go somewhere where others wouldn’t know what had happened to their daughter.”

  “I can only tell you the truth about what I know happened,” Jake answered. “There is nothing I can do about the fact that the woman isn’t here to back up my testimony.”

  The questioning finally ended, and Jake returned to his seat, looking weary and beaten. The finishing arguments were given, and the jury was sent to deliberate. Miranda watched the guards take Jake out of the room and back to his prison cell, and she sat down in her seat, putting her head in her hands to pray. It was done now. His life was in the hands of twelve people who didn’t know him, didn’t know the kind of man he really was. Jess put an arm around her, and she allowed herself a good cry on his shoulder. She had told him that it was not necessary for him to be there, but secretly she was glad for his quiet presence and gentle understanding…glad for his silent love.

  It was only two hours later that the jurors returned and the judge had Jake brought back into the courtroom. Jake turned to look at Miranda when he reached his chair. She rose and leaned forward, touching his shoulder and kissing his cheek, not caring that others watched and whispered.

  “I love you, Father,” Evie told him from where she sat, her eyes puffy from crying.

  Jake nodded to her. “I love you too.” He glanced around the room again, and Evie knew he was still watching for Lloyd.

  “He’ll come back, Father. He loves you.”

  Miranda’s heart ached at the words. Lloyd! Where was their son?

  The judge brought the court to order. People waited anxiously, some excitedly, as the foreman of the jury rose and read each charge. “Guilty” of robbery. “Guilty” of murder. On the charge of rape, “guilty.”

  Miranda gasped. People mumbled, a few sounded disappointed, others nearly cheered. It took several minutes for the judge to quiet them down. Jake turned to look at Miranda, deep pain in his eyes. If only he could hold her. Whatever the judge handed out to him in punishment, it couldn’t be as bad as losing his son’s love, having his marriage destroyed, knowing his daughter would go out into the world without her father’s protection.

  The judge ordered Jake to rise. Jake obeyed, facing the judge squarely. “Do you have anything to say, Mr. Harkner?”

  Jake drew in a long, deep breath, suddenly seeing his father. Well? What do you have to say for yourself, you little bastard? Any little thing that went wrong was always his fault. I didn’t do it, Pa. Honest! “I did not commit the crimes for which I was tried here,” he said aloud, “but I rode with the men who did do them, so I suppose I should expect to be judged for that. I can only say that for the last twenty years I tried to make up for it.”

  “Mr. Harkner, I have no doubt that part of your guilty verdict was based on the known fact that you did ride with the Kennedy gang,” the judge told him. “We will probably never know the truth about the day of the robbery in which innocent people died and a young woman was ruined for life; but I must tell you that since twelve people feel you were involved, it is my duty to see you get the proper sentencing. However, I also must tell you that there is as much lack of proof in this case as there is proof; twenty years is a long time to remember details amidst such quick violence and shock as those involved suffered that day.” The man glanced at Miranda, who sat wiping at her eyes. “You can thank your lovely, gracious wife for impressing me deeply with her testimony. I might add that your own testimony, the sincerity and love that I have seen you feel for your wife and daughter, shows me that you are indeed a changed man. But, being changed does not erase your past.”

  The man cleared his throat and looked at some papers, then back at Jake. “I have given this a lot of consideration. I don’t believe you are any longer a danger to society; however, that same society expects men to pay for their crimes. If they were not made to do so, this land would remain lawless, and we all know that is no longer so. Men like the Youngers, the Daltons, the James gang, are all either dead or in prison. It is true that the terrible war this country suffered had a great deal to do with giving birth to such outlaws, but a man chooses his own way, and he must answer for it. In weighing your punishment, because of your behavior the past twenty years, I am going to be more lenient than I would normally be. The punishment for your crimes would ordinarily be death or life imprisonment. However, in your case I sentence you to fifteen years in prison, with a chance for parole in eight years.”

  Jake closed his eyes. He heard Miranda gasp and break into tears. He knew what she was thinking, what he already knew. At his age, living in a prison, the sentence was the same as life. He was used to the out-of-doors, to the sweet mountains and wide valleys of the West, used to riding free on the back of a horse. The arthritis that had set into old wounds would only get worse staying in a sma
ll, damp cell where he couldn’t get any exercise. He would not last fifteen years, probably not even eight. He’d been in local jails more than once in his younger days, had known men who’d been to the bigger prisons, knew what hellholes they were. A lot of men died there from tuberculosis.

  “I feel this is a lenient sentence,” the judge was saying, “given the severity of the charges. Your final destination will be determined at a later date, but I will request that you be sent to Joliet in Illinois, where I usually send those with long-term sentences. They have better facilities for such prisoners.” The man pounded his gavel. “This ends the matter of the State of Missouri versus Jackson Lloyd Harkner.”

  The courtroom broke into loud talking, and Jake turned to Miranda. Evie was already around the railing and running to her father. She embraced him, as Miranda approached him more slowly, their eyes meeting in mutual understanding and horror. She knew that if her husband had to stay in a penitentiary for very long, she would never see him alive again.

  The disappointment in her eyes tore at Jake’s gut. She had tried so hard, had been so sure she could get him off with a lighter sentence. She came closer, and he drew her into his arms, hugging her and Evie both. “Let it go, Randy. End the marriage and get on with your life.”

  “No! Never!” she groaned. “Something will happen. It won’t end this way.”

  “It’s already ended.” He kissed her hair, held her tightly when he felt her body tremble in sobs.

  “Let’s go,” one of the deputies told him.

  “No, wait,” Miranda begged.

  Another man pulled her and Evie away. Jake glanced at Jess. “Take care of her.” His eyes showed their terrible grief as the deputies forced him to leave.

  Jess put an arm around both women. “You two had better get on back to the hotel and get some rest. Randy, I’ll bring you back tomorrow and you can see Jake. We’ll find out where they’re sending him. Maybe we can get the judge to send him out to the territorial prison at Laramie. There’s lots of federal prisoners there. That wouldn’t be such a terrible move for you, and we could maybe both find work in Cheyenne. That way you’d get to go see Jake once in a while.”