Outlaw Hearts (27 page)

“It's…okay. Get the baby, Jake. I want…to see you…holding your son. Please, Jake.”

“Come and see your son, Jake.” Mrs. Anderson touched his arm.

Jake straightened, looking over at the cradle he had asked a local carpenter to build for the baby. He had brought it home two weeks ago, finding it difficult to picture a child of his own lying in it. Why did he dread this? What if he really did love the child? What if he found out his son meant more to him than his own life, more even than Randy? That meant he couldn't bear for anything to ever hurt the child, especially not his past.

The
sins
of
the
father
are
visited
upon
the
son.
He remembered hearing a street preacher shout that to a crowd once back in Missouri, recalled how he had applied those words to his own father, figuring it must be true. Look how he had turned out, just as mean and unfeeling and murderous as his father. To think his own past could somehow scar his son…

Mrs. Anderson was lifting the child from its cradle. She handed him out to Jake, smiling. “He won't break. Just let him rest in the crook of your arm, Jake.” The woman wondered if this man had ever held a baby in his life. Lawman or not, this Jake Turner had surely led a wild, violent life. It was written in his eyes, and in the scar on his neck. She and the others who lived at the boardinghouse had talked about Jake and Miranda a few times when the couple was not present, trying to figure how they had ended up together. The big, dark, dangerous-looking Jake Turner simply did not seem to fit with the tiny, pretty, quiet woman he had married, yet they seemed very much in love.

Jake took the baby into his arms. Mrs. Anderson signaled the doctor that they should leave the couple alone for a few minutes, and she and the doctor left. Jake just stood there staring down at the red-faced, dark-haired infant that looked back at him with big, nearly black eyes.
So
, he thought,
the
kid
even
looks
like
me
. Was this real? God, what if he hurt him? His legs actually felt weak, and he walked back to the bed and sat down on the edge of it. Never had he had such a feeling. It was all he had dreaded. He had a perfect, beautiful son, and already he knew he would die for the kid. He didn't want to feel this way. It just wasn't a feeling he was used to. A father! This kid was going to call him Pa, was going to look up to him for guidance. Who the hell was he to give direction to another human being when his own life was such a mess? Who was he to teach a child about tolerance and living right?

“Jesus,” he whispered. He stuck a big finger against the baby's tiny palm, and the child grasped at it lightly. “I never saw anything this little in my life,” he said a little louder.

“Let me…see,” Miranda spoke up, her voice a little stronger.

Jake held the child up slightly so she could look at him. Miranda smiled. “Jake, he's…so beautiful!”

The boy made little gurgling sounds, and Jake quickly wiped at his eyes with his shirtsleeve. “I can't do this, Randy. He deserves better than me.”

She managed to move her hand to touch his arm. “He's got…the best father any child…could want. You'll…try harder than most, Jake. It's going to be…so good for us now. We'll go…to California…as soon as the baby is a month old…and we can get through…the mountains. We'll have a good…life there, Jake. You'll see. Now…let me have…my baby.”

Jake carefully laid the infant beside his mother, and the child started to squall. Jake felt a chill at the memory of how his father used to toss his little brother around when he was hardly any bigger than this, roaring at the child to stop crying.

“He's hungry. Help me…roll onto my…side, Jake.”

“Are you strong enough?”

“I…don't know, but…he's hungry…no choice.”

He leaned over and propped some pillows behind her. He opened her gown and positioned the baby so that the infant could reach a full breast. As soon as he found his mark, the child stopped crying and sucked away contentedly. Jake watched, never believing he'd see such a lovely, intimate moment, let alone know the mother and baby belonged to him. That promise Randy had made not to reveal his past to this child meant more to him than ever now.

“I want…to name him Lloyd,” Miranda spoke up. “Your name…is Jackson Lloyd. His will be…Lloyd Jackson…Lloyd Jackson Harkner.”

A rush of regrets over a past he could never erase whipped through Jake with near pain. “Turner,” he corrected her. “Lloyd Jackson Turner.” That was the only name his son would ever hear. “Don't ever mention the name Harkner in front of him.”

Miranda looked at him in a way that told him she still thought he was wrong. “If that's how you want it.”

“That's how I want it.”

She smiled a little. “You love him…already…don't you?”

Jake touched her hair, leaning down and kissing the baby's soft cheek, then kissing her breast. “I love you both. You've got to help me on this, Randy. You've got to live and get stronger.”

“I'll be fine…now that I've seen…how you look…at your son.” She touched his hand. “Jake…my Jake. You'll be a good father. You'll see.”

She closed her eyes and seemed to drift off. The baby kept nursing, and Jake watched, wondering if a man could experience anything more wonderful than this. But then he wasn't just any man, and he didn't deserve to have this happening to him. He rose and went to a chest of drawers, opening one and taking out his mother's rosary, which he kept under his shirts. He had never felt much need for it until now. He grasped it tightly and closed his eyes. “God help me,” he muttered. He didn't know what else to say, how else to put it. He just squeezed the jeweled cross and hoped that by some miracle there was a God who did listen to men like him.

***

Mellie sauntered up to the tall, sandy-haired man at the bar who was throwing money around as though its source was endless. She thought how he could be considered good looking, if not for the chilling meanness in his icy blue eyes, and the fact that he needed a shave and a haircut; but, then, most men in this town needed that. She had gotten used to the smell of whiskey and perspiration, had a lot of money in the bank from putting up with those very things. Someday she intended to start a business of her own, maybe a restaurant or something, anything to get away from this miserable life. In the meantime, she would do what she did best. There were plenty of other men she could approach tonight, but she had heard this one asking about Jake Turner, and that got her curiosity going. She rubbed a hand over his bottom, and he turned to look at her, grinning, a stub of a cigar between his teeth. “Well, hello there, honey.”

Mellie smiled. “Can I do something for you tonight?”

He set down his glass of whiskey and his eyes fell to her exposed bosom. “I expect so. You cost much?”

She looked past him at a dangerous-looking, scarred Mexican who stared at her in a way that made her shiver. That one she would definitely
not
do business with. “Five dollars,” she told the first man. “But first you have to tell me your name and why you're looking for Jake Turner.”

He took the cigar from his mouth. “You know him?”

Mellie noticed the Mexican lean closer, a murderous glint in his eye. She had no doubt that their reason for finding Jake was not a friendly one. She never had been able to determine the truth about Jake, had always wondered about him. She knew men pretty good, and if Jake Turner was an ex-lawman, she was a nun. Had he once run with the likes of these two? If so, how had he ended up with a woman like Miranda Turner?

“I knew him. He's not around here anymore.”

“Shit!” the Mexican cussed. “I knew it!” He pulled out a big knife and slammed it into the bar, making Mellie jump and a few people nearby turn and look. Some of them quieted, feeling uneasy even sitting close to the dark man with the crazy eyes.

“Relax, Juan,” Kennedy told him, his gaze on Mellie. “Why don't you go find a card game or something? This lady and I have things to talk about.”

Juan jerked the knife out and shoved it into its sheath, turning and stalking out.

“Don't mind him,” Kennedy told Mellie. “He's a little short-tempered from that long journey through the Nevada desert. I never knew it could get so hot in June. Never been in country like that. At any rate, it was a journey through hell, and we're all exhausted. Had mountains to cross first. We've been looking for Jake for a long time. He's an old friend. The rest of my men are spread out in town, asking at other saloons about him.”

“An old friend?” Mellie looked him over. “Why do I doubt that?”

Kennedy laughed. “You know people pretty good, don't you?” He ran a finger over one milky shoulder. “You, uh, knew Jake
real
good? I mean, I heard he got married, but then I'll bet that wouldn't stop the Jake I knew from goin' 'round with somebody like you now and again.”

Mellie decided that the less this man knew, the better for Jake. “I just saw him around a few times. I don't know much about the wife. She never showed herself much.” Why was she so sure it was best this man did not know that Jake Turner had a son? She glanced at Clarence, who was working behind the bar tonight. She knew he had heard, knew he hated Jake. She took Kennedy's arm and pulled him toward the stairs to get him away from Clarence. “You still haven't told me your name. Mine's Mellie.”

“Bill Kennedy,” he answered, following her up the stairs eagerly.

“Well, Bill Kennedy, Jake Turner has left Virginia City for parts unknown.” She figured she had only half lied. She knew he had gone to California, but where in California she wasn't sure. For some reason Jake had not wanted anyone to know. Actually, she had only seen Jake one other time, other than when she went to meet his wife to tell her about Wes. Jake had surprised her by coming to tell her good-bye and to thank her for helping them find out about his wife's brother. She had asked around after they left, but no one in town knew where in California Jake and Miranda Turner and their new son had gone.

“You must know if he went to California, Oregon, Arizona?”

“No,” she lied. “I had known his wife's brother and knew he was dead. That's how I met Jake. He was asking about the brother.” She led Kennedy into her room. “Because I had helped him find out about Wes Baker, Jake came to tell me good-bye. He was a pretty private man, never said where he was going. I don't think anyone else in town knows, either. My guess is he'll take his wife back to Kansas. I expect she'd just as soon go back home since her brother is dead.”

Kennedy chuckled. “Honey, he's not going back to Kansas, believe me.” He suddenly kicked the door shut and grasped her around the throat in a choking hold, startling her. “Now, why don't you tell me everything you know about ol' Jake?” He slammed her against the bed rail, and she grunted from pain in her back. “I can get real mean, Miss Mellie! You don't want to know
how
mean!”

Mellie's eyes teared, and she grasped at the man's wrist, but he just squeezed harder so that she began losing her breath.

“It's real easy,” he told her. “Just tell me everything you know, no lies. Then we'll have us a good time and I'll be on my way and you can go on about your business.”

She watched the wild, blue eyes, knew instinctively he'd kill her in the blink of an eye if she fought him. How was it Jake Turner knew men like this? Could he have been this way once? Surely not with women. There had been something about him that told her he could never lay a hand on a woman. But she did remember how he had treated Clarence, the vicious blows, the gun stuck in the kid's mouth.

Kennedy released her and backhanded her, knocking her to the floor. Mellie lay there a moment gathering her thoughts, putting a hand to her throat and trying to get her breath. She felt Kennedy bend over her then, stroking her hair. “Now don't make me do anything worse. Where's Jake?”

“I only know…he went to California,” she gasped, her voice husky from the injury to her throat. “Nobody knows…where in California…I swear it. You can…ask all over town…or up…at the Yellow Jacket. He worked there.”

“How long ago did he leave?”

“Six weeks, maybe.”

“By wagon?”

“Yes.”

“His wife with him?”

“Yes.” He didn't ask about a baby, so she was not going to volunteer the information.

“What did Jake do when he was here? He have a job?”

“I told you, he…worked at the Yellow Jacket.” She sat up slightly, still rubbing at her throat. “He was…some kind of troubleshooter.”

Kennedy grinned. “So, he made himself a reputation with those guns, did he? I figured as much. I'll bet there are other people in this town who know as much or more about him than you do. Men like Jake don't go unnoticed for long.”

“Why don't you…leave him alone? He's…happily married…not doing you any harm.”

He grasped her hair and jerked her head back. “The harm's already done! He stole a good piece from me, shot up a lot of my men doing it, including my stepbrother! He went against my orders.
I
was head of our gang. Nobody goes making decisions on his own!”

“Gang?”

“I guess out here folks don't know much about names like Bill Kennedy and Juan Hidalgo and Jeb Donner. But by the time we're finished out here, they'll know our names well enough! There used to be another name connected with us—Harkner, Jake Harkner! Your happily married man used to ride right at my side until he turned traitor!”

Mellie eyed him maliciously. “Maybe he rode at your side, but I don't believe…he was ever the stinking coward
you
are…beating up on a woman to get…information!”