Love's Sweet Revenge (38 page)

Lloyd jumped off his horse before the animal even came to a full stop. He ran toward Jake, who held a man by the front of his woolen jacket. “I didn't touch her!” the man screamed.

“You didn't
help
her either!” Jake kicked him hard in the privates. The man yelped and bent over, and Jake kicked him under the jaw, sending him sprawling. “You fucking bastard!”

Lloyd recognized Ronald Beck.

“Somebody stop him!” Beck begged. “I didn't touch her! I was comin' to tell you where they took her!”

“The
hell
you were!” Jake growled.

“My horse threw me!” Beck yelled through bloody teeth as he got to his hands and knees to get up. “I think my leg's broke, and I think I've got cracked ribs from you ridin' your horse over me, you sonofabitch.”

He rubbed at his left thigh, which was exactly where Jake kicked him again. The man screamed in horrific pain and rolled on the ground, holding his leg with one hand and his privates with the other. “Stop! Please…stop!” he slurred through pain, spitting more blood. “I didn't plan on…him takin' your wife, Jake! I can…help you find her!”

Jake reached for him, but Lloyd grabbed his arm. “Pa, wait! Maybe he knows where they plan to hole up. That could give us an advantage!”

The rest of the men surrounded Beck, and the three boys rode up with Rodriguez. Before anyone could stop him, Little Jake got off his horse and picked up a rock. He threw it directly at Beck, cracking it against his forehead. The man cried out and cringed, wrapping his arms around his head. Brian jumped off his horse and grabbed hold of Little Jake, hanging on tight as the boy struggled to get away so he could “beat up” Ronald Beck some more.

“Let Jake and Lloyd handle this!” Brian ordered his son. “We need information, Little Jake. You calm down!”

“You're a sonofabitch!” Little Jake snarled at Beck while Brian still held him. “Grampa's gonna
kill
you for hurting my grandma!”

Stephen ran up and kicked dirt on the man, and Ben came up behind him and kicked him in the rear.

“You boys get back now,” Jake told them. He walked up and shoved Beck onto his back with a booted foot, holding his foot against his throat. “You want to live?”

Blood poured from both sides of Beck's mouth, and he kept one knee bent in an effort to protect his privates, while his left leg was sprawled out oddly sideways. “My leg! My leg!” he screamed.

“I'll
stomp
on it if you don't help us find my wife!” Jake threatened. “And I don't want any lies!”

“I'm tellin' the truth!” Beck nearly sobbed. “We was just supposed to burn the barn…make sure you lost a few horses and feed for…shootin' half my hip away and blowin' Clyde Pace's fingers off!” He winced and groaned. “My leg!”

Lloyd walked around the other side of Beck. “We could legally hang you just for that!” Lloyd told him. “Pepper died in that fire, you bastard!”

Beck's eyes widened. “Oh, man, we didn't mean for nobody to die in it!”

“Too late!” Cole spoke up. “My best friend died a horrible death on account of you! If Jake don't kill you,
I'll
kill you! It won't be the first time I've killed a man. Jake knows I ain't no angel, and he won't stop me!”

“Wait!” Beck begged, looking up at Jake in wide-eyed terror. “I can help! Jake, I didn't mean for somebody like Pepper to die or for that Buckley kid to take your wife! That wasn't part of the deal!”

Jake took his foot away and pulled out his .44 and cocked it before pointing it at Beck's head. “This thing has a hair trigger, so if I think for one minute you're bullshitting me, I'll get all upset and might accidentally kill you!” he growled. He knelt down and shoved the gun against Beck's cheek. “How in hell did you get mixed up with Brad Buckley?”

Beck grimaced in pain. “Gretta's place…just before you…came to Denver and…got in that trouble.” He gritted his teeth when Jake shoved harder. “Buckley was there…with Mike Holt. Me and Clyde and…Tucker…we…got to know 'em…found out about Holt wantin' Lloyd dead, and Buckley…he hated you. He told us about all the shit that happened…back in Oklahoma.” He tried to scooch away, his eyes wild. “Please don't…pull that trigger! I know what you did to Mike Holt!”

Lloyd shoved a foot against Beck's back so he couldn't wiggle any farther away. “We know Clem Sutton was part of this!” he growled. “How in hell did you meet up with Clem? You never worked for us the same time he did.”

Jake shoved the gun harder against Beck's cheek, and Beck cringed, making a childish squealing sound. He spit more blood.

“Goddamn it, I think some of my teeth are loose, and I think I've got some broken ribs,” he repeated. “And my leg—” He broke into tears. “Please don't—” he whined.

Jake shoved the gun harder. “
Fuck
your leg! I'll break your
other
leg if you don't talk!”

“You're lucky your balls are still attached to the rest of you!” Lloyd stormed. “Did my
mother
cry like you're crying now? Did she beg Buckley to let her go?”

“I told Buckley…he shouldn't take her—”

“The hell you did!” Lloyd knelt down and grasped the man's hair, pulling hard. “Tell us how you all ended up in on this together!”

Beck spit more blood. “That night…after meetin' up with Buckley and Holt at Gretta's place…me and Clyde and Tucker went out and got…drunk with them. Buckley thought it would be a good idea for me and Clyde and Tucker to try gettin' a job…at the J&L…get to know the lay of the land so's Buckley could make plans…'cause he knew he couldn't…come on to the J&L…so he needed somebody to…help him.” He looked at Jake, his eyes showing his terror. “Then you shot Mike Holt…and Buckley got run out of Denver…so me and the boys decided to get a job with you…anyway…'cause you were so famous and all…figured we could take you and make a name…for ourselves. When you…shot us up and kicked us off, we went back to Denver, lookin' for work. Clem…he showed up at that same tavern one night…braggin' as how he'd like to kill…Jake Harkner on account of you'd…beat him up bad. So we got to talkin' about…how we could all…get even with you. We'd all…worked on the J&L…so we knew winter was the best time to sneak in…when not so many men was out watchin' the borders.”

Lloyd jerked his head back. “What about Brad Buckley? He was forced to leave Denver! How did you end up with him?”

“We all got jobs…at the railroad depot. Needed time to…plan and…lo and behold…Brad Buckley came back to Denver on a train one day…and we all…got back together. Buckley, he came up with the idea of…burnin' down one of your barns. He was…glad to know men who'd worked on the J&L. But I swear, Jake…the thing…with your wife… That was all Buckley's idea.”

“You and the others abused my wife and beat on my grandsons!” Jake growled. “
Boys!
Just
boys
! Nobody hurts anyone in my family and gets away with it!” Jake slammed the barrel of his gun across Beck's face, and the man cried out, staying on the ground and begging Jake not to shoot him. He curled up, bawling like a baby.

“What have they done with my wife?” Jake roared.

“N-nothin',” Beck answered. “Not…yet. Clyde and…Tucker… They don't want nothin' to do with hurtin' her.” Beck's words were muffled against the snow as he kept an arm up against his head. “It's…Buckley who kept sayin'…what he was gonna do to her. I got…throwed by my horse. That's how you…found me. My leg hurt somethin' awful…and I couldn't get up. The others…just left me behind.”

Jake jerked him onto his back again. A deep gash on his right cheek was bleeding profusely. “So your first story about leaving them to come and tell us where to find my wife was a
lie
to save your ass! You saw us coming and figured to make up something that sounded good.” He pressed the barrel of his gun painfully against Beck's eye. “You've told us two stories, Beck! How about the
truth
this time? Where did they take my wife?” he demanded, unmoved by the man's weeping. “Is she warm? Did any of you hit her?”

“No! Not me!” Beck sobbed. “Buckley…he hit her. The more she fought, the more he hit her. He threatened…to do things…with her…but we didn't want…no part of that. They're takin' her…to that old cabin on the west side…of Fire Valley. Me and the boys…told him that was a good spot…'cause they can see you comin' from the cabin. They're gonna…hole up there and…take you down.”

“And through it all you didn't do a thing to help my
wife
, did you?” An enraged Jake brought his pistol hard across the side of Beck's head, this time near the temple. He got off the man and holstered his gun, walking a few feet away and bending over in grief at the thought of Buckley hitting Randy, maybe doing something worse.

Beck rolled over again, managing to get to one knee. Blood dripped onto the ground from his mouth and from the cuts from Jake's pistol-whipping and split skin at his forehead where Little Jake had hit him with the rock. He wept from the sharp pain in his scrotum and his broken leg. “I couldn't…help her. Buckley…would have shot me!”

“Well, now
I
want to shoot you!” Lloyd seethed. “You should have taken your chances with
them
!”

“Buckley was…in a hurry! He didn't want…to wait for me.” Beck reached up to put his hand against the cut on his head. Jake turned to Lloyd, and the look on his face made Lloyd fear his father was about to have a heart attack and die. “Pa, let us go on without you. We can do this. You look really bad.”

“I'm
fine
!” His voice was gravelly with rage and devastation. He walked closer to Beck. “We have a right to hang this man for burning down the barn. A man
died
in that fire! That's murder. And taking your mother is kidnapping.”

“No! Don't hang me! Please!” Beck collapsed. “My head! My…head!” He groaned, rolled sideways into the snow, then onto his back. He looked at Jake pleadingly before his eyes rolled back so only the whites showed. He suddenly stiffened.

Lloyd frowned. “Pa, I think he just died.”

Jake pushed at his body with his booted foot and got no movement.

“Is he dead, Grampa?” Little Jake asked.

“I hope he
is
dead,” Stephen spoke up.

“Brian, get over here,” Jake told his son-in-law.

Brian finally let go of Little Jake, whom he'd held onto through the entire ordeal. He walked over and knelt beside Ronald Beck. He felt for a pulse, then sighed. “I think Stephen got his wish. He's not breathing.” He rose. “Could be a broken rib punctured a lung, or maybe it was that last blow to the head. You came awfully close to his temple, Jake. I suspect he was bleeding inside the skull.”

Jake glanced at the boys. “I told you there would be violence. I hope you boys understand a man can't always behave like this. All of you know right from wrong, and you'll likely be better at handling these things when you grow up than I am. Rodriguez can take all of you back home if this is too much for you.”

“No, sir, we aren't going anywhere!” Stephen told him. “We came to help, and I think me and Little Jake can help more than you think.” He looked at his cousin.

“Can't we, Little Jake? Remember that big crack in the rocks we found by that cabin at Fire Valley?”

Little Jake's eyes lit up. “You mean Little Jake's Valley,” he said proudly. “And yeah, I remember that big crack.”

“Me, too,” Ben added, his face brightening.

“Stephen, what are you talking about?” Lloyd asked.

“That time late last summer when you and Grampa took us with you to Little Jake's Valley to shoot rifles and look for wild mustangs, you let us play up at that cabin. There's a cliff right behind the cabin with a big crack in it.”

“I know that. The cliff must be a good twenty feet higher than the cabin. It butts right up against it.”

“Me and Little Jake and Ben looked into that crack and wanted to see how far it went. So we wiggled into it sideways,” Stephen told Lloyd.

“You could have got wedged in there and been trapped!” Brian scolded.

“It gets bigger when you get in there,” Little Jake told his father. “We just kept goin', and it got wider at one spot, then smaller again.”

“It kept going up, and we just kept following it because we wanted to see how far it went,” Stephen explained. “It ends out at the big rise that leads up to the cabin from the side. We went back the other way and ended up right back at the cabin.”

“We never told you because we thought you'd be mad at us for going in there,” Ben told Jake.

Jake frowned. “You saying you boys could get close to that cabin without being seen?”

Stephen nodded. “Ben can't now 'cause he got a lot bigger over the winter. But I'm still tall and skinny, and Little Jake is, too. Those men will be watching for us all to ride in across the valley—figure we'll make good targets, I'll bet. But you guys could ride around the outer rim to the north side behind trees and boulders above the cabin, while me and Little Jake sneak through that crack and come out to the side of the cabin where they don't see us. We could chase off their horses so's the men in there can't run out and get away.”

“You gotta ride straight up from the valley to get to the cabin otherwise,” Ben added. “This way you'd be closer without them seein' you, and you could use all those big boulders for cover. Without their horses, they'd be trapped in there.”

“Yeah!” Stephen added. “You'd have to be on foot if you go around behind it up high, but at least you'd be close enough to shoot at 'em without them seeing you coming.”