Do Not Forsake Me (34 page)

Brian nodded, fighting the tears that wanted to come. “She was only eighteen when I met her. I'm the only man she's ever been with, the only one who owns her heart and soul, just as she owns mine. This changes none of that, and I'll damn well help her see that.” He choked in a sob. “What hurts the most is that I failed to protect her.” He rubbed at tear-filled eyes. “A man is supposed to be the protector. I mean—look what Katie did. I should have done something like that.”

“You were taken by surprise. And
I'm
the one who failed to protect her, Brian. I took it for granted you would all be safe if you stayed in town. And you
have
protected her, your whole married life. You've sheltered her from everything mean and ugly out there, loved her with gentleness and respect. You've given her a good life. She's never known a raised voice or a physical threat, and you have the kind of job that lets you be with her almost constantly. That's the kind of husband she needed. She wouldn't have been strong enough to be married to some gruff, gun-toting lawman or hunter or blacksmith, or some man who likes to drink in taverns. Hell, you don't even smoke.” He put an arm around Brian's shoulders.

“You're more of a man than I am in a lot of ways, Brian. You care about people and you save lives. I
take
lives.” He took a deep breath, fighting another urge to vomit over the thought of men abusing Evie. “If you'd ever hurt Evie, I probably would have thrashed you within an inch of your life and kicked you out. But never once have I seen Evie upset or unhappy. She's always…smiling…and I can see the love in her eyes. I thank you for that.”

Brian breathed deeply for self-control. “Hell, I can't take a whole lot of credit, because she's so easy to love. I take hope in the fact that she's her father's daughter, which means she has a silent, inner strength that I don't think even you are aware of, Jake. I've seen it, mostly when you were still in prison and she was as stubborn as Randy about refusing to be told she couldn't visit you or that I couldn't give you a doctor's attention when you were dying in there. She has helped me with surgeries, and she can handle blood and guts just fine for someone so soft and innocent in other ways. Don't underestimate her strength, Jake. And Little Jake—God knows how stubborn
he
can be. He's probably making all those men nervous, babbling about how ‘Gampa' will come and hurt them with his guns.”

Jake managed a faint smile. He decided not to voice his fear that they would hurt Little Jake just to be mean. Brian had enough to grieve over. He sighed and rose. “Brian, I need you to promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“If I don't survive tomorrow, and if Lloyd doesn't either, there's a little eight-year-old boy at a brothel called Dixie's Place, a bit northwest of Guthrie. I left him there with a promise I'd come back for him. I need you to promise you'll go and get him and welcome him into your home or see that the Donavans get him.”

Brian shook his head. “Only you would leave a homeless eight-year-old boy at a whorehouse to be cared for.”

Jake came and sat down beside him again. “Hell, I was raised in whorehouses, and look how I turned out.”

Brian managed a smile. “That doesn't give that kid much hope.”

“Yeah, well, that kid is the reason for this wound on my face. We found him on our way to a crappy settlement I call Hell's Nest. His father was beating him with a belt.”

Brian closed his eyes. “Good God. I can just imagine your reaction.”

Jake cleared his throat. “No imagination required there. As I was lighting into his father, I hit my face on the edge of a shovel tied to the side of the man's wagon. I took that belt from him and used it on him until Lloyd managed to stop me from beating him to death. I made him sign a paper to give up the boy—actually, he signed voluntarily, like the kid was nothing more than a pet dog. I kept him with us and promised him a good home. If the Donavans don't take him, I'll damn well raise him myself, because he's
me
, Brian. He's
me
. So if I don't live through tomorrow, I need you to go and get him for me. The woman who runs the place has a good heart…a good heart. A lot of those women have good hearts, and women like that raised me, so it doesn't bother me at all leaving Ben there. Don't ever think less of them, especially Dixie. She's good people.”

Brian nodded. “I'll go and get him.”

“I'd appreciate it. And I want a couple more things from you.”

Brian sniffed and wiped at his eyes. “What?”

“I don't want you using that rifle, for one thing. Have you ever fired a gun in your life?”

Brian swallowed. “No, but I sure as hell can pick one up and aim it.”

“Maybe so, but you're a man born to save lives, not take them, and I can't afford to have bullets flying in the wrong directions, especially if Lloyd and I are down there in the thick of it and not knowing where Little Jake is—and they'll probably have Evie right out front as a way to keep us from shooting at them. You stay at the top of the ridge and use that rifle only if one of those bastards is coming toward you. Wait till he's close and then shoot him, and don't think twice about it. We'll likely need you more as a doctor than a shooter, so keep yourself healthy.”

“What's the second thing you want?”

Jake picked up a piece of tall grass to chew on it, longing for a cigarette. “If I live through this, I'll likely get down there first. Give me five minutes alone with Evie before you come for her. Just five minutes. It will take you that long to get down that ridge anyway. You first tend to any of those men with us who might get hurt, especially if it's Lloyd. You find Little Jake and make sure he's all right. I just want five minutes with Evie.”

Brian rose with a deep, pitiful sigh. “She'll want to know you're all right anyway. In fact, the only thing that comforts me is that she knows her father will come for her. That will give her courage.” Brian ran a hand through his hair. “Get her out of there, Jake. Just get her out of there. I'll damn well take care of the rest.”

Jake listened to the owl again, thinking how quiet it was tonight, and how tomorrow the air would be filled with the sounds of gunfire. “I'll get her out of there, even if it means my life. That's a promise.” He rose and walked over to put an arm around Brian. “Try to rest. You'll need your wits about you tomorrow.”

Brian nodded and they walked back to camp. His own body aching from lack of sleep, Jake laid out his bedroll next to Lloyd's.

“Try to stay calm tomorrow, Son, no matter what we see down there. If we do this right, we'll get your sister back.”

Lloyd stared at the night stars. “Pa?”

“What?”

“I love you. I don't say it often enough.”

Jake thought about his own father. How he would have loved to be able to say those words to the man, and to hear them back. He sat there quietly for a moment. “I love you too, Lloyd. You'll never know how much.”

“I think I do. You told me to stay calm tomorrow. You have to do the same. I'm not ready to lose you, and if something happens to you, it will kill Evie. She'll fall into a million pieces and never recover from this. You remember that, and don't be too ready to hand yourself over to them. If Evie has to suffer a little more in order for you to find another way, she'll gladly do it. Don't underestimate her. She's the one who was strong when you went to prison. I ran off. I'll never be able to make up for that.”

“You've more than made up for it. Do you realize what it means to a man like me to hear his son say he loves him? That alone makes up for everything else. A man couldn't ask for a better son.”

Lloyd sighed. “Or a better daughter,” he added.

Both remained quiet for a moment. Jake pulled his hat down over his face.

“Pa?”

“What?” Jake kept the hat over his face.

“We've had some wild times together, haven't we?”

“That we have.”

“You can be a damn lot of fun sometimes…when times are good. We've had each other's backs for quite a while now. I'd die for you. You know that, don't you?”

Jake remained quiet for a moment, forcing back emotions that might get in the way tomorrow. “I damn well know it.”

Evie awoke to the still-dim light of dawn. Everything hurt, and she curled up against the ugliness of what the two men who lay on either side of her had done to her over the past six days.

Morning sickness engulfed her, made worse by the smell of perspiration and men's filth. She sat up and deliberately leaned over Hash as vomit spewed forth. The man cried out and cursed, slamming a hand across her face. The incident woke Marty, who followed suit and threw Evie to the floor. He then jumped up and grabbed a pitcher of water, throwing some of it into Evie's face, then tossing the rest over Hash.

“Shit! Go outside and clean up in the horse trough,” he ordered Hash. He looked at Evie. “You bitch!” He crashed the pitcher against a wall, then threw a shirt at her naked body. “Put this on and make us somethin' to eat! And make sure that kid of yours don't do any cryin' again today.”

Evie picked up the shirt with shaking hands and pulled it on. It, too, smelled of perspiration, but at least she could use it to cover her nakedness. She was inwardly pleased she'd vomited all over Hash. Her sickness would keep both men away from her.

She wondered how long the sight of Marty's face, with its sewn-up eye socket, would haunt her.
Your
pa
done
this
to
me, so you can damn well look into this face while I take what's his!
the man had sneered.
And
you
can
thank
your
pa
for
what
you're goin' through now, missy.

The only thing that kept her going was drawing on the strength she knew her father would have. She was Jake Harkner's daughter, and she'd rely on that strength until he came for her…and that was one thing she did not doubt. Her father
would
find her.

She managed to get to her feet, quietly thanking God that she'd so far managed to hang on to her baby. Little Jake, normally a totally happy, rambunctious child, lay in a corner of the ramshackle cabin Marty had brought them to, just watching his mother but saying nothing. She buttoned the shirt and went to him, kneeling down and smoothing back his dark hair.

“It's okay, Little Jake. Grandpa will come for us.”

“Hurt,” the boy said sadly.

“I know, my precious.”

“Gampa's guns hurt that son-o-biss.”

Evie would normally scold him for using the word, but not now, not now. “Yes, Grandpa's guns will hurt them. Grandpa will come and help us, Little Jake, you'll see.”

She'd no more gotten the words out than she heard it…a whistle.

Daddy!
Her heart pounded. Jake Harkner would surely prefer the element of surprise, but he probably couldn't wait to reassure her he was here.

Little Jake bolted upright. “Gampa's guns!” he said, brightening.

Evie put a finger to her lips. She had to think of something to keep Little Jake quiet and in one place so he wouldn't get hurt in the shooting that would surely follow. “Hush, Little Jake. Remember to stay very still. Grandpa won't come unless you stay right here and don't move.”

“What's going on?” another man in the cabin asked. “What was that whistle?”

“Harkner!” Marty exclaimed.

Evie rose. “You're going to die today, Marty Bryant! My father must be pretty sure he has you trapped, or he wouldn't have let you know he's here!”

“Shut up, bitch!”

“He's out there somewhere,” Evie goaded, feeling empowered by just the thought.

“There ain't no way Jake has got here yet,” Marty answered, going to a window. “Even if he has,
he's
the one who will die today!”

“Think what you want. After today you will be roasting in hell,” she said calmly. “Jake Harkner will see to it.”

Marty went to the door. “Hash, did you hear that whistle?”

Hash splashed water over his face. “I heard it, but I ain't worried. Let him come. It's what we've been waitin' for, ain't it?”

“But there's no way he could have found us this quick.“

Evie sensed the fear in Marty's voice.

The others inside scrambled, pulling on pants, loading guns. Marty stuck his head a little farther out the door. “You men out there!” he yelled. “Make ready! That's Jake Harkner who just whistled!”

“Shit!” someone cursed.

“I'm tellin' you, Marty, the man would be comin' in from the west, not over that ridge to the east,” Hash argued.

Evie stepped outside the door, studying the top of the ridge, trying to see something…anything…but she saw no sign of life. Yet she knew her father was up there, and most certainly her brother too. She fought the sick fear that Brian might have been killed when Marty Bryant had slammed a gun into his head.
Dear
Jesus, let Brian be alive. And be with my father and brother. Help them.

How would Brian feel about her now? Eight men. Eight men had defiled her in the worst way. If Jake had taken longer to find her, she was sure the other men would have decided to take their turns with her too.

She couldn't bear any more of this hideous abuse, or to watch Little Jake suffer. She rubbed at her belly, praying she would keep this baby because he or she, and Little Jake, might be all she had left of the sweet love she'd shared with her beloved husband. She turned to go back inside…and that was when she heard the gunshot. Just one…a loud crack in the crisp morning air. In the same instant, Hash Bryant fell forward into the watering trough, blood reddening the water.

Yes, Jake Harkner was definitely up on that ridge.

After that, all hell broke loose. Four men came running from behind the cabin and started shooting toward the ridge. A bevy of gunshots spit from behind brush on the hill, and all four men went down. Marty tackled Evie to the ground and dragged her kicking and screaming back into the cabin. She'd hoped to keep him outside where he would be an easier target, but he managed to get her into the cabin and slammed the door shut.

* * *

Jake watched Marty drag Evie into the cabin, her screams ripping at his insides.

“Fucking bastard!” Lloyd groaned. “She was trying to keep him outside, Pa, so we could get a shot at him.”

“I know.”

“She's smart. Sweet as she is, she's got the Harkner fight in her.”

Jake put more cartridges into his rifle. He couldn't think about what he'd just seen. “We got five of them before they scattered for cover like roaches.”

“Marty sure as hell knows we're here now,” Harry Wilkes said excitedly.

“I
want
him to know,” Jake told him. “Marty scares easy. You boys did a good job picking your targets. I'll have Marty Bryant shaking like a tortured puppy before this is over.”

“Jake, we can't be sure how many more there are inside that cabin, or anywhere else,” Fenton Wales commented.

A covered wagon below rocked from the movement of men inside, and more had run into a barn. Someone opened a wooden shutter that had covered the cabin window. “That you, Jake?” Marty yelled from below. His voice seemed to echo in the morning air.

“You should be wishing it wasn't, Marty!” Jake yelled back, keeping behind brush cover near the top of the ridge.

“How'd you get here so fast?” came Marty's reply. “What are you doin' up on that ridge?”

“You didn't plan this out very well, Marty. I have the advantage now, so send my daughter and grandson out, or you won't live to see the sun set!”

“I ain't never comin' out! You come on down here instead.”

“Is Dell with you, Marty? Do you want to see your little brother get killed today?”

“Dell is a man now. He done learned with your daughter! And he's the one who attacked that stagecoach and freed me!”

“Yeah, Jake!” It was Dell who shouted then. It sounded like his voice came from the barn. “Your daughter's a sweet one, that's for sure!”

“Jesus Christ,” Lloyd groaned. “I can't wait to kill that little sonofabitch.”

“Hold it!” Someone below shouted the words. A man came running out of the barn. “Let me leave, Harkner! I never touched your daughter! It was the
rest
of 'em! Not me!”

Brian put his head down on his arm. “Sweet Jesus,” he muttered. “I can't take much more of this.”

The man who'd come out of the barn put his hands in the air. “I'm unarmed!”

“That's my sister down there! Did you try to help her?” Lloyd yelled.

“I…no… I was outnumbered!”

“He didn't try to help on account of he was havin' at her like everybody else!” Dell shouted, followed by laughter.

Lloyd rose, taking aim with his rifle.

“Get down!” Jake ordered.

“Sonsofbitches! I'll kill every one of them!” Lloyd swore.

“Lloyd, he's giving himself up,” Jake warned.

Lloyd crouched back down and looked at Jake with a dark, hateful glare. In that moment, Jake saw himself, the old Jake, the outlaw Jake. “Don't do it, Son.”

“Do what?”

“You
know
what! Don't do it! I've
been
there, and that hatred and thirst to kill will destroy you. Remember that Evie is watching us.”

“You heard what they said!”

“I want to kill every one of them as much as you do,” Jake growled. “But you start shooting the ones giving themselves up, and Marty might shoot Evie just for spite, and we could
both
end up in prison if we don't handle this right!”

Lloyd rubbed at his eyes and turned his attention back to the hollow. Just then, the man who'd decided to give himself up started running.

“
Now
, Pa?”

“Hell, yes.”

Lloyd aimed and pulled the trigger. His rifle shot cracked through the air and the man went down.

Men below began cursing a blue streak.

“Murderin' bastard!” one man shouted.

“It was you that shot him, wasn't it, Lloyd Harkner? You're as bad as your pa!”

“I take that as a compliment,” Lloyd shouted back.

“That was my brother,” another man shouted. “He wasn't even armed!”

“The way I saw it, he was running from the law,” Lloyd shouted back, actually grinning. “It's not my fault the sonofabitch gave me an excuse to shoot him. The rest of you would be wise to give yourselves up right now!”

“So you can shoot us when we put down our guns?” Dell shouted. “You and your pa ain't no better than vigilantes.”

Jake looked over at Red and the others. “What do you think, boys? Are we all vigilantes?”

“Hell, yes,” Red answered. “Once this is over, you can hang every one of them that's left as far as we're concerned, Jake.”

Jake turned his attention back to the hollow, where men remained hidden. “I'd sure like to, but Evie's down there,” he told Red. “I have a feeling she'd be mighty upset by that, in spite of what she's been through. We can't let her see us string up a bunch of men.”

“Then we'll just have to shoot them all before we get down there,” Lloyd suggested.

A rant of curses came out of Marty's mouth then, ending with a promise to “get Lloyd” for kicking him into the street and throwing him into the prison wagon and making him lose his eye patch.

“Keep them talking,” Jake told Lloyd. “I'm trying to spot Marty in a window.”

“Things will be a lot worse for you once we come down there!” Lloyd goaded, feeling a wicked pleasure at shooting the unarmed man. He lowered his voice. “They're scared shitless, Pa. We've got the lowdown on them damn good.” He yelled again, “You really screwed up this time, Marty! There's no getting out of this one!”

Jake watched the cabin window, but he couldn't get a good view of Marty and wasn't sure if Evie might be standing right beside him.

“Gampa! Gampa!” Little Jake screamed the words from inside the cabin. It tore at Jake's heart.

“Show yourself, Harkner, or I'll shoot the kid and turn his ma over to the other five men in this cabin!” Marty yelled.

“Five plus Marty,” Lloyd muttered. “That's six in the cabin. We took down four plus Hash. With the man I just shot, that makes twelve in all accounted for. There must be more in that wagon and more in the barn.”

“We need to get Marty outside,” Jake told Lloyd and the others. “If I can take him down, the others will try to run off. That's when we get every last one of them.” He aimed his rifle again. “Marty!” he shouted.

“I'm listenin'!”

“I want to see my daughter again, and my grandson! You bring them out, and I'll come down.”

“No, Daddy, don't you come down here!” Evie screamed out the window.

Someone jerked her away. More screams. Little Jake kept crying for his “gampa.”

“Jesus, I have to go down there,” Jake told Lloyd.

“No! Every man there will take a shot at you, Pa. You'll be riddled with bullets before you ever reach bottom. Every damn one of them wants to say he killed Jake Harkner.”

“I don't have any choice.”

“Try once more to get him to come out. The man is
stupid
, Pa. We can flush him out.”

More screams.

“My God, they're hurting her,” Brian agonized.

Jake struggled not to give in to his own personal horror. “Stay calm, Brian.” He fired into the wagon and someone cried out. Things quieted again after that, and it sounded like men were arguing inside the cabin.

“They're starting to get real scared, Brian,” Jake told his son-in-law. “A scared man makes stupid mistakes, and he won't take the time to mess with a woman. He'll be more concerned with how to save his neck.”

Little Jake had stopped crying, which worried Jake.