Love's Sweet Revenge (33 page)

“Grampa, did you learn Mexican from your mother?” Little Jake asked. “Is it okay to talk about her?”

Jake felt the stabbing pain of watching his mother die. “Yes, it's okay to talk about her,” he answered, “and yes, I learned Spanish from her, but mostly I remember it from growing up in Texas around others who used it pretty regularly.”

“Will you teach us some Spanish?” Stephen asked.

Jake shook off the memories. “Sure, I'll teach you some Spanish. Why not?”

They reached the house, where the women were standing anxiously on the veranda.

“Daddy! We heard shooting!” Evie exclaimed. “Are you okay? Where's Lloyd?”

“Lloyd is fine. It was just some trouble between a couple of men back at the bunkhouse. They're all drinking. Whiskey and bragging and cards don't always go together too well. A couple of them decided they didn't like me and Lloyd giving them orders, so they figured they'd make names for themselves with their guns. They found out it was a pretty stupid idea.”

“Jake! Tell me no one is dead!” Randy said, hurrying up to him. “You can't afford to have something like that happen so soon after Denver.”

Jake moved an arm around her. “No one is dead. They're just
wishing
they were dead.”

Little Jake ran up to Evie and gave her a hug. “I love you, Mommy!”

“Well, thank you! I don't get that many hugs from you, Little Jake. And maybe I should stop calling you ‘Little' Jake. You are really growing all of a sudden. I swear you've grown an inch in the last week!”

Little Jake pulled both his parents aside. “You should have seen it!” he said excitedly. “Grampa can pull a gun faster than a man can blink!”

Randy grasped Jake's arm. “What was this whole thing
really
about, Jake? The men have had little tussles before, but mostly nothing serious.”

Jake frowned, leaning down and kissing her cheek. “I'll tell you later.”

Now the boys were babbling about how fast Jake and Lloyd pulled their guns.

“Grandma, you should have seen it!” Stephen told her.

Randy looked up at Jake. “I
have
seen it,” she answered ruefully. She sighed and moved her arms around Jake. “I
have
seen it.”

Jake wrapped her in his arms.

Late September

Jake finished his coffee after a hearty lunch and rose just as someone outside whistled.

“Jake, you in there? Got a rider comin'.”

Jake rose, grabbing his gun belt from where he always hung it over the door. He looked through the screen to see Vance Kelly standing at the bottom of the veranda steps. “Who is it?” he called out.

“It's that marshal fella who came callin' last spring.”

With a worried look, Randy turned from the kitchen pump where she'd been helping Teresa with dishes.

“He alone?” he yelled to Vance.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. If he was here to arrest me for something, he'd have five or six men with him.” He strapped on his gun belt. “Stay here,” he told Randy.

Ben came running from his bedroom where he'd gone after lunch to read his lesson for the day. Stephen and Little Jake were with him, all there for schooling with their grandmother. “What's he here for, Pa?” Ben asked.

“We'll just have to find out, won't we?” Jake strapped his holsters to his legs and grabbed his hat. He put it on as he went out the door.

“Grandma, is it something bad?” Stephen asked.

Randy wiped her hands on her apron. “Let's hope not. You boys stay inside like he told you to do.”

“I wish that man would quit coming here,” Little Jake grumbled.

Randy thought how big the boys were getting—even Little Jake had taken a sudden summer growth spurt. It was obvious by the longer legs he'd sprouted that he and Stephen, who was already a head taller than Ben, even though they were the same age, were going to be Harkner men through and through—in height and coloring and with that defensive edge Jake always carried. Jake and Lloyd were grooming the three of them to run the J&L someday, and she could already see the hint of “man” trying to burst forth from the “boy” in them. She'd also noticed how much more mature they'd seemed to become after Jake and Lloyd took them out for the talk they'd promised them. It had somehow changed them—made them more serious about things.

She joined them at the window as Marshal Hal Kraemer rode in, wearing the familiar duster that reminded Randy of when Jake dressed and armed himself with the same array of weapons Kraemer now displayed as he dismounted.

Terrel Adams and Charlie McGee accompanied Kraemer.

Randy whispered to the boys to be very quiet so she could hear what was being said.

“He's a marshal,” Charlie was telling Jake in his drawling southern accent. “Couldn't very well tell him he ain't welcome.”

Jake leaned against a support post and lit a cigarette. “Who said he's not welcome? As long as he's not here to try to drag me off to jail, company is always welcome.”

Randy watched Lloyd ride up to the veranda. Brian and Evie were approaching from their house. Lloyd dismounted and didn't stop to tie his big bay before hurrying up the steps.

Kraemer nodded to Jake. “Does your whole family always surround you when they think they smell trouble?”

Jake took a drag on his cigarette. “Like ants on sugar.”

“Well then, considering your penchant for trouble, they must come running pretty often.”

Jake smiled. “Just a family tradition.”

Lloyd came up the steps and stood next to Jake.

“You already know my son, Lloyd,” Jake told Kraemer.

Kraemer tipped his hat. “Lloyd, your reputation runs a close second to your father's, so I'll be sure not to reach for my weapons.”

“Might be a good idea,” Lloyd answered with a hint of a grin. “What's going on, Kraemer? We just finished lunch and have a lot of chores today.”

Kraemer nodded. “May I at least get down off this horse?”

Jake grinned. “Come sit on the veranda and out of the hot sun.” He glanced at Lloyd. “Didn't take you long to get here.”

“I was out at the milking barn, talking to Rodriguez. Saw the marshal riding past the barn toward the house.”

Inside, Randy left the boys at the window. “I'm going out there to see what this is about,” she told them. “You three stay here.” She patted the sides of her hair and straightened her dress, then quietly walked out onto the veranda. Jake glanced at her as he and Lloyd sat down in wicker chairs. Jake kept his cigarette between his lips and nodded toward a wooden chair nearby as Kraemer mounted the steps. “Have a seat,” he told Kraemer.

Kraemer tipped his hat to Randy as she moved to stand behind Jake. “Mrs. Harkner, you're looking lovely today, as always.”

Randy wished he wasn't here but decided to be cordial. “Thank you, Marshal Kraemer.”

Kraemer heard whispers at the window as he took a seat. He glanced at the three young faces behind the screen. “I apparently have quite an audience.”

Lloyd grinned. “The place is overrun with Harkners. And two more are on the way.”

Kraemer shook his head, glancing at a very pregnant Evie as she and Brian came up the steps. He rose yet again and tipped his hat. “Ma'am, I remember how concerned you were last time I was here. I assure you I'm not here to bring harm to anyone or take your father away.”

Evie glanced at Jake. “Is it okay?”

“Go on inside where it's cooler. It's okay. Sadie is waiting for you to come take her home anyway.” He turned to look up at Randy. “Do you have some of that lemonade you usually keep in the icebox? I'm sure the marshal could use some refreshment.”

Randy didn't want to serve the man anything, but she knew Jake was trying to keep the situation calm. “Certainly.”

Evie went inside with her, but Brian took another chair on the veranda, nodding to Kraemer. “Marshal.”

Kraemer nodded to him. “You're Jake's physician son-in-law?”

“I am.”

“Well, if anybody needs a doctor around close, it's Jake.” Kraemer glanced at Lloyd. “Son, I heard what happened in Denver, and I'm damn sorry. You look like you've recovered all right.”

“I have, but it's been a hard road. I still get tired easily and have pain. Brian says it's just something that will take a long time to go away, and some of it won't.”

“I know. I've been there myself, and so has your father. Comes with the territory, I guess.” He looked at Jake. “I have to say I'm glad you got out of that mess, Jake. Part of me figures the man you shot damn well deserved it, considering he was part of that disaster at Dune Hollow.”

“Yeah, well, I don't like to talk about that. And thanks for your concern over Lloyd.” He drew on the cigarette again. “Why don't you just get around to why you're really here? Like Lloyd said, we're pretty busy.”

Kraemer reached inside his duster, watching Jake move his hand closer to his gun when he did so. “Just getting out some mail,” he told him. He pulled out three envelopes. “I figured since I was coming here, I'd stop off in Boulder and see if you had any mail.” He handed it out.

Jake took it and laid it on a table next to his chair. “And?”

Randy came outside, carrying a tray that held glasses of lemonade. Kraemer rose yet again as she walked around to set everything on the table beside Jake. She picked up a glass and handed it to Kraemer.

“Thank you, ma'am. I'm right thirsty.”

Kraemer drank down the lemonade, and Randy glanced at Jake. He gave her a thin smile. “Sit down, Randy. You've had a long day.”

Randy couldn't help feeling nervous at the marshal's visit. She handed out the rest of the lemonade and walked over to sit in a wooden chair beside Brian.

“You were saying?” Jake told Kraemer.

“I'm to tell you they are having a shooting contest at the summer fair in Boulder. They'd love for you to come there and show them how fast you can draw.”

Jake shook his head. “Not interested. I'm not a circus act, Kraemer. And I don't want my grandsons thinking guns are for showing off. Besides, the last time I got in a shooting contest, it drew too much attention, and I ended up in a shoot-out with about seven men who injured my wife and tried to kidnap my son.”

Kraemer smiled. “Your son looks pretty big to be kidnapped.”

“He was only about a year and a half old at the time.” Jake drew on the cigarette and took it from his lips. “And a shooting contest and picking up mail aren't good enough reasons for a U.S. Marshal to come all the way out here. What's your
real
mission?”

Kraemer leaned back in his chair, putting a booted foot up on his other knee and hanging his hat on his foot. He drank more of the lemonade before he answered. “The Cattlemen's Association has an offer for you, Jake. They sent me to tell you about it.”

“What kind of offer?”

“Range detective.”

Lloyd straightened in his chair. “What the hell is a range detective?”

Kraemer guzzled down the rest of his lemonade. “Pretty much what it sounds like. There has been too much rustling going on, as you well know, Jake. You've had a run-in with rustlers yourself. And nesters are also becoming a problem. The cattlemen have decided they need men to ride the range looking for trouble. If anyone can sniff out troublemakers and then handle them himself when he finds them, it's Jake Harkner.”

“No!” Randy suddenly gasped.

Jake looked her way and saw the terror in her eyes.

“Jake, no! It's too dangerous!”

Jake looked back at Kraemer. “Sounds to me like that's work for a regular marshal like yourself.”

“Not necessarily. Only another cattleman can recognize men who don't belong on his land and recognize which brands belong to which ranchers. We keep the law in other ways, but this is a need unique to cattlemen. You know the wide range marshals cover. We can't be everywhere at once, Jake. Range detectives can zero in on particular ranches and handle rustlers and such. You find them, arrest them, and then bring them to us. I know that part would be hard for you, given the fact that you tend to shoot first and ask questions later, but you'd have to abide by the law of the land.”

Jake tamped out his cigarette, glancing at Lloyd.

“I need you here, Pa.”

“You run this ranch just fine without me, and it's mostly yours.”

“It pays good, Jake. You'd make a lot of money,” Kraemer told him. “The cattlemen know how good you are, and they're willing to pay you five hundred dollars a month. That's a whole lot more than you ever made as a marshal, and if this ranch ever hit bad times—like a hard winter that killed off most of the cattle, or a drought that burned up your grass—you'd be able to support it by taking this job.”

“I have money!” Lloyd put in. “I inherited it from my first wife, and I'm not worried about this ranch going under. We'll be just fine. I rode with my father as a marshal in Oklahoma, and every damn day I was scared some sonofabitch would shoot him in the back! All it got him was even more enemies—men who turned around and hurt my whole family. My father doesn't need to be making even
more
enemies! Just a few days ago three of his own men—”

“Lloyd!” Jake interrupted.

Kraemer raised his eyebrows. “Did you have some new trouble out here, Jake?”

“Nothing Lloyd and I couldn't handle. And if you're asking if I killed anyone, I didn't. I just hope I don't live to regret that. I've learned over the years it's better to put someone down for good than to create new enemies. But all the new laws they're coming up with now make it hard for a man to protect his own family.” He leaned back in his chair. “Look at my wife, Kraemer.”

The marshal moved his gaze to Randy as she wiped at her eyes with a shaking hand.

“That woman has been to hell and back—
with
me and
for
me,” Jake told the marshal. “We moved out here for the peace we've been wanting the whole thirty years we've been together. We're pretty damn close, but I'm worried about the three men I kicked off the J&L a few days ago. They weren't exactly in good health when they left. And there is still the little matter of one Brad Buckley, a leftover from Oklahoma who is still wanting revenge because I killed his father and two brothers. I'm needed right here in case that man decides to pull something. Lloyd and I and the men who work for us will take care of rustlers and any other trouble on the J&L. The other ranchers can take care of it however they want, but I'm not interested. My wife went through enough in Oklahoma.” He took another cigarette from a shirt pocket. “Besides, I'm getting too many aches and pains from old wounds to be sitting in a saddle all day long every damn day and sleeping on the hard ground at night. I prefer my own bed, where I don't have to fight insects and worry about a snake crawling into my boots or my knapsack while I'm sleeping. A good woman in your bed at night is a lot more welcome.”

“Jake!” Randy chided. The three boys inside snickered.

Kraemer smiled. “You've got me on that one, Jake. You're one lucky man.”

“I think so.” Jake lit the cigarette. “You tell the cattlemen thanks for the offer, but I'm not interested.”

Kraemer nodded. “You can go to Greeley and wire a message to my office in Denver if you change your mind.”

“I won't.”

Kraemer took his hat from his foot and put it back on, then set his empty glass on the table. He rose, nodding to Randy. “Thank you, ma'am, for the refreshment. And I didn't mean to upset you.” He turned to Lloyd and put out his hand. “Glad you're going to be okay, Lloyd.”

Lloyd shook his hand, and Kraemer turned to Jake.

“Jake, you're somebody worth knowing. I expect riding with you in Oklahoma was quite an adventure. I wish we could have gotten to know each other better.”

Jake gave him a firm handshake. “Come and visit any time. If you and your men need a place to hole up once in a while, you're welcome to use one of the barns. We have a cook who would make sure you got some of the best steaks in Colorado.”