Outlaw Hearts (25 page)

“You've had your warning, kid.” Jake shoved the gun back into its holster. “Pay attention to it and thank God you're still alive!” He stepped back to the bar and glanced around the room, seeing no one who looked willing to give him any trouble. He looked at Mellie then. “Will you come with me and tell my wife what you know about her brother? She might have questions only you could answer.”

Mellie looked down at herself. “If she won't mind talking to a…to somebody like me. Let me change clothes first. I'll be right back.”

She turned and hurried up the stairs, and Jake watched Clarence, who was apparently not so well-liked. No one made a move to help him as he bent over, crying and choking.

“Clean up that stinkin' mess, Clarence,” the man behind the bar shouted. “If you're gonna puke again, do it outside.”

Clarence got up and ran out the back door, and the bartender offered Jake another whiskey. “Don't worry about anybody believin' that kid,” he told him. “He's been hangin' around here puttin' on airs about bein' a big man. He talks big, but we all know he ain't nothin'.”

Jake took the whiskey, figuring he needed one more to deal with the torrent of emotions churning inside him. He had to tell poor Randy that her brother was dead. They had come to this hellhole for nothing. Now she would have to have her baby here, and he wasn't sure he could be a decent father. Now this thing with Clarence Gaylord. The stupid kid was only eighteen, but he had hurt him bad. Was he wrong to do that? Visions of his own father lighting into him brought knots to his stomach.

Mellie came back down the stairs wearing a woolen coat. She walked up to the man behind the bar. “I have to go talk to this man's wife, Toby, about her brother. I knew him. I'll be back in an hour or so.” She looked up at Jake. “Let's go.”

Jake followed her out, and the rest of the men returned to their cardplaying. At nearly every table the conversation was about the man with the guns who called himself Jake Turner. None had ever seen anyone draw so fast. A few glanced at Clarence when he came back in holding a handkerchief to his nose, tears on his pale face. He carried a few rags and used them to clean up his vomit, still shaking from thinking Jake Turner would blow his head off.

The way he was raised, Clarence never knew a man could hate so much. He felt humiliated, felt like a fool, and it was all because of that sonofabitch Miranda Hayes had married. Indirectly, the bitch had brought him down again, embarrassed him again. If he could ever find a way to get back at her and that big bastard she married, he'd find it! He hated both of them so bad it made him feel sick again, and he ran back outside to throw up for the third time.

Jake closed the doors to the tidy parlor of Mrs. Anderson's boardinghouse. He liked this place. It was the nicest home he'd ever lived in, and he hoped he could make as nice a place for Randy someday. Lace curtains and braided rugs and lovely plants decorated the room, a warm fire crackling in the fireplace. He was not used to living like this, but it was something he wouldn't mind
getting
used to. Then again, maybe he wasn't meant to live this way. Maybe it was too late for a man who had lived in shacks and above saloons all his life. It all depended on Randy and if she still wanted him. He'd hurt her badly this morning, and he saw how she watched him now, knew what she must think of him bringing someone like Mellie here. She probably thought he'd been with the woman. Mellie had changed into a simpler dress, but the paint on her face and the dangly earrings readily told what she really was.

“I asked Mrs. Anderson to let us be alone in here,” he said, turning to Randy.

She looked from Jake to the woman he had introduced as Mellie. Was he trying to throw this in her face to make her hate him more so she would leave him? Jealousy raged in her soul. How dare another woman touch her Jake!

“This isn't what you think, Randy,” Jake spoke up quickly. He came over to kneel in front of her. “I brought Mellie here because she knew your brother. I've been asking all over town all day long, and I finally found somebody who can settle things for us.” He took her hand but she pulled it away, glaring at Mellie.

“You know my brother? Why isn't
he
here? Does he make a habit of hanging out with women like you?”

Jake grasped her arms. “Randy, don't insult her. She was a good friend to Wes. I brought her here in case you had any questions I might not think to ask. Randy, look at me.”

She met his eyes, her heart quickening at the sorrow there.

“I'm damn sorry about this morning. We have a lot to talk about, but right now—” He sighed deeply. “Wes is dead, Randy. He was killed in a mining accident almost a year ago.”

Miranda just stared at him, the words roaring in her ears. That couldn't be! Wes was her last living kin. “Do you have proof?”

“I'm your proof,” Mellie spoke up.

“Why should I believe you?”

Mellie stepped closer. “Honey, I've got no reason to lie about it. Wes and I were good friends. Some of the other men knew it. When he was killed in an explosion, they brought his body to town. I saw it with my own eyes. It was Wes. I made sure he got a nice burial. If you want, I can take you to the graveyard and show you where he's buried. I made the undertaker put up a headstone with his name and age on it. I'm real sorry you came all the way here for nothing.”

Miranda felt the tears wanting to come. How could this be? Her father, her mother, her husband, now her brother. And Jake. Did she even still have Jake? She looked at him, felt his hand come over hers again. This time she did not pull away. “Do you believe her?” she asked. “You…you know women like her better than I do.”

“I believe her. She even started crying when I showed her the picture. And don't be rude to her, Randy. She didn't have to come here.” He squeezed her hand. “I'm damn sorry about Wes. If I could change things, I would. I'd even take his place, if that would make you happier.”

A tear slipped down her cheek. “Don't say that.”

He put a hand to her face and wiped at the tear with his thumb. “Is there anything you want to ask Mellie?”

She sniffed, pulling a handkerchief from the pocket of her dress and wiping at her eyes more. She looked up at Mellie. “I'm sorry to act so rude. There are other reasons I was upset when you walked in with my husband.”

Mellie felt a little embarrassed at witnessing a tender scene between a husband and wife. “It's all right. Women like me are pretty tough-skinned.”

Just
like
Jake
, Miranda thought. “Was Wes happy?” she asked aloud. “Did he ever talk about our father? About me?”

Mellie smiled. “Sure he did, but he mostly referred to both of you as just ‘Pa' and ‘my sister.' I wasn't even sure what your name was, or I might have tried to write and let you know what happened. Besides that, I didn't know if you'd appreciate hearing about him from somebody like me. He was happy, because he was doing something he really wanted to do. He told me he had gotten bored with farming, but he felt a little guilty about leaving you and your pa.” She shrugged. “Hell, he was young and wanted some adventure, that's all. Lots of men that age get the yen to strike out on their own. He had big dreams about finding his own claim, but he ended up working at one of the mines instead. He made good money, but I'm afraid he gambled most of it away every week. He only had about twenty dollars on him when he died. I used that for his burial and grave marker. I hope that was all right.”

Miranda rose and walked closer. “If you don't mind, I'd like you to take us tomorrow to show us his grave.”

“Sure. I don't mind.”

Miranda studied her, guessed her to be perhaps thirty. It was hard to tell. The woman had a hard look to her, had obviously had a rough time. What made women choose this life? She thought of Jake's remark back when she first met him, about how some women like this did what they did because they'd been abused as he had. Who was she to judge? “I hope you were good to him.”

Mellie almost laughed at the innocent remark. She glanced at Jake and knew he was thinking the same thing, but she kept a sober look. The sadness of the occasion far outweighed the humor the remark would otherwise have evoked. “As good as I could be,” she answered. “We didn't always…well, you know.” She reddened a little. “Sometimes he just wanted to talk, so I listened. That happens a lot here. These men get lonely, miss their family, get their expectations dashed to the ground. It's not as easy to come to a place like this and get rich as one might think.”

Miranda swallowed back a lump in her throat. “Did he…suffer?”

Mellie shook her head. “They told me he was killed instantly. They use lots of dynamite in those mines. Accidents like that are pretty frequent.”

Miranda nodded. She reached out and surprised Mellie by hugging her. “Thank you for being his friend, and for coming here to tell me. Can you be here tomorrow morning around ten?”

Mellie glanced at Jake again. She had a feeling he knew that women like her seldom got up before one o'clock in the afternoon. There was something about the man that told her he was familiar with saloons and whores. How had he ended up with this lovely woman who was obviously a proper lady? He was so big and dark and dangerous-looking, and she was so small and refined.

“Why don't we make it around two, Randy?” Jake suggested, to Mellie's relief. “It will be warmer midday. I don't want you getting chilled in your condition.”

“Fine. I'll see you at two then.”

Mellie nodded.

“You want me to walk you back? It's dark out there,” Jake spoke up.

Mellie laughed lightly. “You don't really think that matters, do you?”

“Sure it matters.”

“I'm all right. Just about every man in this town knows me. I'm safe.” She smiled rather sadly. “Besides, there isn't much a man can do to me that hasn't already been done now, is there? You stay here and comfort your wife, Mr. Turner. I'll be by tomorrow.”

The woman left, and Miranda just stood staring at the doors. The ordeal of the journey to get here, the horror of being left to die at the trading post, and the terror of her pain and of the men who cared for her, all combined with the thought today that Jake might go back to his old life, crashed in on her on one wave of emotion. Now to learn that Wes was dead, that she had given up so much and risked so much to come here for nothing, brought her such terrible grief and disappointment, she grabbed the back of a chair to keep from falling.

In an instant, Jake was there, lifting her up with strong arms and carrying her to their own room. He kicked the door shut and sat down on the bed, holding her tightly on his lap. “I'm sorry, Randy, not just about your brother but about all the rest. Just tell me what you need,
mi
querida
.”

“I just need you to hold me,” she sobbed. “I need you to want our baby.”

He kissed her hair. “I told you I do want the child. It's just that my whole life I never gave one thought to being a father, figured I'd never be very good at it. I just don't know if I'm even worthy to have a kid call me Pa.”

“You are, Jake. How many times do I have to tell you you're as worthy as the next man? I know you love me, Jake, and you'll love our baby. But you've got to learn to love yourself too.”

He felt an ache in his chest at the remark. He realized how right she was. It was hard learning how to love and be loved, harder still to learn to love himself; but then he figured if a woman like Randy could love him, there must be a part of him that was worth something.

“It's more important to me now than ever for us to be family, Jake,” she was saying. “You and the baby are all I've got, and we're all
you
have.” He smelled of whiskey and smoke, and she clung to him. “I was afraid you wouldn't come back.”

He stroked her hair. “I'll do and say a lot of things that don't make sense sometimes, Randy, but one thing I know is I can't be without you. There are times when I might leave because I've got to be alone to think things out; but I'll always come back. Always.” He began unbuttoning her dress. “Let's get a nightgown on you so you can get some rest. Tonight I'll just hold you, and tomorrow we'll have a nice breakfast and go visit Wes's grave. When you feel stronger, we'll talk about the baby.”

He undressed her and put on her gown, insisting she stay in bed while he went to the kitchen to see about bringing her something hot to drink. Miranda pulled the pillow to her, her emotions torn. The news about Wes was so disappointing. She had gone through so much to get here. The only thing that made the grief more bearable was the fact that Jake was here. She had trusted that he would come back, and he had. She put a hand to her belly, realizing her waist had gotten thicker. If Jake Harkner didn't fully understand about love, the baby would teach him the rest. “You'll be the best father who ever walked the earth, Jake. I know it in my heart.”

***

Miranda laid some flowers on Wes's grave as Mellie left them. She put a hand to her aching chest, her grief more piercing at having never gotten to see her brother again. It felt strange to know that all that had been a part of her blood and her past was gone.

“There is nothing left now, Jake.” She rose and faced him. “No past, for me or for you. This is a sign that we have to go on and look only to the future, our baby, a life together. All we have is each other.”

They stood high on a hill that overlooked Virginia City. With the influx of thousands to the silver town, the graveyard had also quickly expanded, filled mostly with men killed in mining accidents or in fights in town. In the distance someone was conducting a funeral. A hawk flew overhead and screeched, and Miranda thought what a sad place this was, full of the graves of lonely, forgotten men come here in search of a dream and finding only death.

“I don't want you to be afraid of being a father, Jake,” she told him. “You know exactly what you would have liked to have for a father, and I know in my heart you'll do everything you can to make life very different for your child than it was for you. You think you know what love is all about now, but you won't know until you hold this baby in your arms. I have a feeling our biggest problem will be you spoiling him or her to death.”

Jake walked a few feet past her. “I'll tell you what bothers me most, Randy,” he said, his voice strained with emotion. “It's the same thing that hurts the most about my own pa. It wasn't the beatings so much as the fact that I hated him so much, was so ashamed of him. A kid needs to be
proud
of his pa, Randy. If I ever saw that same hate and shame in my own kid's eyes…” He turned to face her. “That's why this baby and any others we have can't ever be told about my past. If they find out what I used to be, find out I killed my own pa, they'd look at me with those same eyes, and any love they had for me would be lost.”

“I don't believe that, Jake.” She drew her coat closer around her neck, a cold mountain wind blowing her hair away from her face. “We'll
make
them understand.”

“No.” He came closer, his dark eyes determined. “I don't want you ever to tell them. We'll find a peaceful place in California to settle. They don't ever need to know.”

She frowned. “Jake, my own father used to say that telling the truth right away was always better than letting it be found out some other way further on in life. It saves a lot of hurt and misunderstanding.”

“I mean it, Randy. If you ever say anything, I'll leave, because I'm not going to stay around and have my children look at me with that shame. I don't ever want them to know. You've got to promise me.”

“Jake—”

“
Promise
me! I never want them to know about my past.”

She folded her arms, seeing again that little-boy fear in his eyes. “All right. I think you're wrong, Jake. If they find out later, it will be worse, but if that's what you want, I'll agree to it.” The wind suddenly blew a little harder, and she shivered, something deep inside telling her the promise she had just made was a decision they would both one day regret.

Jake breathed deeply in relief. “I found an honest-to-goodness doctor in town,” he told her. “I think you should go and see him, get to know him. At least you'll have some help when the time comes. Soon as that baby is born and you're both strong enough, we'll get the hell out of this place.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I'm sorry about Wes.”