Outlaw Hearts (36 page)

Jess was grinning. “I see you ain't lost the old fire or confidence.” He nodded. “Tomorrow mornin' is fine with me.”

“Just remember I'm going to have to go by some other name to keep bounty hunters off my back.”

“Whatever you want. One thing is sure, I don't have to worry about my safety with you along.”

Jake just smiled with a hint of bitterness. “Yeah. I guess I'm good for
some
thing.” He picked up his whiskey bottle and handed it out to the man. “You can have this if you want.”

Jess grinned. “Thanks, friend.” He sat back down and took Jake's glass, pouring himself a shot.

Jake knew Jess was right. A good woman and a loving family was not something a man gave up easily. Every bone in his body ached for Miranda, ached to hold Lloyd close and touch his baby-soft cheek, ached to see the new baby.

Jess began talking about Colorado, and Jake thought how strange and ironic it was to see the man again after six or seven years. He recalled Miranda's belief that all things happened for a reason. He had always laughed at her for her silly ideas, but now she had him thinking like her.
Was
there some reason Jess York had walked through the door and asked him to go to Colorado with him, right at a time when he was feeling his lowest? Was this the answer to some prayer of Miranda's?

There was one way to find out. He'd go to Colorado with Jess. Maybe he could get a job similar to the one he had had in Virginia City, working at a mine. There sure weren't any opportunities around here to get honest work, and he couldn't go back to California yet. As long as he had an old friend to travel with, he might as well go.

“I'm going to check my gear and turn in,” he told Jess. “I'm camped out behind the livery. Meet me there at sunrise and we'll head out.”

“Fine with me,” Jess answered.

Jake left, shaking his head and realizing that even after months apart, Miranda was as much with him as if she were walking right beside him. The woman was keeping him from returning to his old ways, scolding him, holding him tight, even though they were separated by hundreds of miles.

Damn
slip
of
a
woman.
He supposed he would never again be the same man he was before he'd met her.

***

December 1870

Miranda came from the tiny bedroom where she had put Lloyd and Evie down for their naps. At three-and-a-half and nine months they were a handful, and she welcomed the afternoon quiet. She walked to a rocker and picked up some mending that she had to finish for Mr. Eastman. She needed the money. She was working as many hours as she could, many of them at night while the children slept, had taken Evie off breast milk early so that she could spend more time away from the baby working odd jobs to make money.

She sat down wearily in a rocker, her neck already aching from hours of mending. She was not sure how much longer she could survive this way, not knowing about Jake, loving him and wanting to believe in his promises, wanting to uphold her marriage vows. She missed him so, needed to feel him holding her, but if she was to survive, she couldn't stay in Desert forever. She had to get to a bigger city where she might be able to find a steadier job, but if she did that, how would Jake find her? Would he even try? How much more was her love and faith in him to be tested?

She glanced at the sad little Christmas tree in the corner, decorated with popcorn strung by her and Lloyd. There was no extra money for presents. Lloyd had asked about his father again today. He never stopped asking, and she never stopped promising he would see his daddy again, never stopped praying that her promise would come true.

She had continued her charade of divorcing Jake. She had even made a trip to San Diego with Dr. Henderson, on the pretense of seeing a lawyer. While the doctor ran some errands and stocked up on medical supplies, she had gone into the lawyer's offices, but she had never really talked to anyone. Now all she told people was that it was taking time, but that she should have her papers by the end of the year. In order to make people believe that and keep protecting herself and the children, she would soon have to tell them the divorce was final; and to continue providing for her family, she would have to get out of Desert.

Tired. She was so tired, more from the strain of not knowing what to do than from the long hours she put into a hundred odd jobs to keep food in the house. There was still some money left in their savings, but she knew she might need that to find a place to live when she left Desert. She leaned back in the chair, suddenly unable to find the energy even to pick up the shirt in her lap and sew on the buttons.

She heard footsteps then on the outside stairway that led to the apartment, and she sat up and put the mending aside. She had been on the verge of tears over her emotional quandary, and she quickly wiped them away when someone knocked at the door. “Mrs. Harkner? It's Jerry Eastman. Got some mail for you.”

Miranda quickly walked to the door and opened it before the man could knock again and wake up the babies. He handed her an envelope. “Kind of fat,” he commented with a grin. “You got a long-lost relative in Denver or something? Somebody owed you a long letter.”

He handed her the envelope and she glanced at the return address. “Lawrence Baker, Denver, Colorado,” she read quietly. Lawrence Baker! That was her
father's
name. Who would use…Jake! It had to be from Jake! Who else would put that name on a letter to her! He knew she would realize who it was from, and he certainly couldn't use his own name! “Yes,” she answered aloud. “Lawrence Baker is my uncle. I didn't know he was in Denver!”

“Well, then, when you leave Desert, maybe that's where you should go. You've been worryin' about where you should settle. Maybe the man would take you in.”

Miranda was still staring at the envelope. Jake! It had to be from Jake! “What?” She looked up at Eastman. “Oh! Yes, maybe he would. Thank you, Mr. Eastman.”

The man nodded and left, and Miranda closed the door, hurrying over to the rocker and sitting back down. With shaking hands she carefully opened the envelope, taking out a letter and gasping when a wad of money fell into her lap. “My God!” she whispered. She gathered it up and began counting…one hundred, one fifty, two fifty, three, four hundred dollars! She hugged the money to her breast. “Jake!” She sighed. “Oh, God, please don't let this be from him going back to his old ways. Don't do it, Jake. I can forgive anything but that.”

She barely held back tears of joy as she picked up the letter, almost afraid to read it, afraid it would say he was never coming back, that the money was just to keep her going until she really could get a divorce.

Dear
Randy, Here's four hundred dollars. I'm okay. Found work. Will find a way to send for you soon as possible.
Work! He had a job. It must be a very good one to be able to send her so much. Had he sent her every dime he had earned?
Took
a
chance
sending
money
this
way, but couldn't wire it or somebody would know it was from me. Sorry it's taking so long. When the time is right to send for you, I'll understand if you don't want to come. I love you, Randy. Sorry to put you through this hell. Give Lloyd and the new baby a hug for me. Hope all went well and you and the baby are all right. If you do still love me, don't give up the faith. If you're crazy enough to still want me, just come when I send for you. I can't say exactly where I am in case someone sees this. Am with an old friend. He might be the one to come and get you, so don't be afraid of him. His name is Jess York. You can trust
him.

I
love
you, Randy, and I hope nothing bad has happened to you while I've been gone. You have already put up with more than any woman should. I respect that and will honor whatever decision you make. All my love,
Jake

A couple words were misspelled, and the handwriting was shaky, but what a letter from a man who didn't even know how to read or write when she'd first met him, a man she had taught herself, and who had learned eagerly the things he had never been taught as a child.

She smiled, broke into tears, hugged the letter close. “Oh, Jake, how can you think I wouldn't come?” He couldn't have timed the letter better. She had plenty to live on now until he sent for her, and he
would
send for her! She wasn't sure if her tears of joy were more for the fact that he was alive and working and was sending for her, or for the fact that he had conquered his old feelings of defeat and had not returned to his old ways. He had gone out there alone and he had kept his pride and determination and had not let old feelings of worthlessness make him give up all that he had struggled to gain for himself! It was a personal victory for him, an emotional victory for her. He had needed her love, her belief in him, and he had survived one of the darkest moments in his life. They had
both
survived!

She jumped up and carried the letter and the money into the bedroom, leaning over to kiss little Evie and Lloyd, both of them looking so sweet and innocent lying there asleep. “We'll be with daddy soon, my babies,” she whispered. “Merry Christmas.”

July 1871

Miranda set her iron aside when through the window that faced the outside stairway she saw the figure of someone coming up the stairs. She quickly wiped at the sweat on her brow with a handkerchief she took from her apron pocket, and she imagined she must look terribly wilted. It was miserable ironing in the sizzling heat all of Southern California was experiencing this month, but things like ironing never went away and it had to be done. Besides that, she had to keep up a pretense of needing to work for money, since others might begin wondering where she was getting enough to live on while she decided whether or not to leave Desert. She didn't want anyone to know about the money Jake had sent her.

She smoothed her apron as someone tapped on the door and she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Her hair frustrated her in this weather. It was so fine that it was difficult to keep it pulled up on top of her head without pieces of it constantly refusing to stay put. She opened the door to greet a clerk who worked downstairs at the hardware store. “Hello, Luke.”

The young man nodded to her. “Mr. Eastman told me to come up here and tell you there's a man downstairs who says he's a relative of yours, name of Lawrence Baker. You want I should send him up? Mr. Eastman don't like sending strangers up here unless you say it's all right. He asked the man if he was the uncle you said you got the letter from in Denver, and he said he was.”

The uncle she had gotten the letter from? Miranda's heart beat faster with anticipation. Could it finally be happening? Had Jake sent Jess York for her? She put a hand to her pale cheek, realizing that besides looking wilted and tired, she wore no cheek color today, no lip color. Her hair was a mess and she was wearing one of her oldest dresses.

For
God's sake, what does it matter!
she scolded herself. “Stay here with the children for just a moment while I go and see,” she told the clerk. She rushed past him, hurried down the stairs and through the front door of the hardware store. Eastman turned to look at her, and standing beside him was a man she guessed to be about Jake's age. He was quite handsome, with a quick, bright smile, pleasant features, thick, sandy hair. He held a black felt hat in his hand, and he wore clean denim pants and a white shirt with a black string tie. He was not as tall or broad as Jake, but he was well-built. She had wondered after getting Jake's letter if this man had also been an outlaw. Jake had said he was an old friend, and what other kind of “old friends” did Jake have?

The man stared back at her with near awe in his hazel eyes, and both of them felt hesitant at first. Miranda realized then that it was important for Eastman to believe this was her uncle. She would take the chance of making a fool of herself. “Uncle Larry!” She rushed closer and threw her arms around him.

A stunned Jess York embraced her, realizing he had better go along with the ploy. Actually, he did not mind it a bit. Jake had described this woman to him, but he had not really believed she was as small and beautiful as he'd said she was. How in hell did an ornery cuss like Jake Harkner end up with someone like this? “Hello, Randy,” he spoke up, struggling to act casual.

“I'm so glad you came.” Miranda pulled away, her cheeks flushed at having to embrace a complete stranger; but Jake apparently trusted this man, and that was good enough for her.

“I, uh, I brought a wagon, sweetheart,” he said, a teasing grin now showing. “I was hoping you'd come back to Denver with me. You divorce that murdering liar you married yet?”

Miranda watched his eyes, knew the man was deliberately goading her now. He gave her a wink, and Miranda found it difficult to remain serious. “Yes,” she answered, her smile fading. “Come upstairs and I'll tell you all about it.” She glanced at Eastman. “It's all right. I expect I'll be moving out tomorrow or the day after, Mr. Eastman. Thank you for letting me rent the rooms upstairs.”

“No problem. I'm just glad you've got someplace to go now, with somebody who can take care of you.”

Miranda glanced at York again, wanting to jump with joy, and full of questions about Jake. “Follow me.” She led him out and up the stairs, and young Luke left them alone. Immediately Miranda grasped Jess's arm and led him to a table. “You
are
Jess York, aren't you?”

“Yes, ma'am.” He looked her over as he took a chair. “And I've got to say, Jake didn't do you justice when he described you to me.”

Miranda blushed again, putting a hand to her hair self-consciously. “Well, I'm afraid I have to apologize for the way I look. I've been ironing all day, and in this heat—”

Four-year-old Lloyd came bounding out of the bedroom then, followed by his little sister, who toddled after him on chubby legs. At sixteen months, Evie was walking well. She looked like the prettiest of little Mexican girls, her black hair hanging past her shoulders, her big, dark eyes staring at the stranger. She hurried to her mother's lap and crawled into it. Lloyd walked right up to Jess and boldly asked who he was.

“I'm Jess—”

“This is my uncle Larry,” Miranda interrupted. She looked at Jess. “He's four years old and very bright. He might say something to someone, so let's just let you be my uncle until we get out of Desert.”

The man nodded, studying the dark, handsome boy, who seemed too big for just a four-year-old. “I wasn't sure what your explanation would be for my presence. The man downstairs asked if I was your uncle Lawrence from Denver, so I just went along with it and said that I was.”

Miranda smiled. “I'm sorry to put you on the spot like that. When Jake sent that first letter and the money and used my father's name, telling people here I had an uncle in Denver was all I could think of, so I'd have an excuse when Jake sent for me.” She sobered, her eyes showing her anxiety. “Is Jake all right?”

“Yes, ma'am, and itchin' for me to get you to Colorado.” The man stood up and reached into his pants pocket, pulling out the rosary. He sat back down, handing it to her. “Jake said you might be a little suspicious about me, so he told me to give you this—said you'd know it was okay to go with me if I gave you somethin' that was special to him.”

Miranda hardly heard the man. She took the precious beads, clutched them in her trembling hand. She could not hold back the tears then. “I'm sorry,” she wept. “I've waited so long. When Jake sent that money, I knew he really would send for me. I just didn't know when…or how.” She breathed deeply, still clutching the beads. She set Evie on the floor, and the girl ran off to play with Lloyd. “What has he been doing? How is he? Will we be going to Colorado?”

Jess still could not get over how beautiful she was, even all frazzled from the heat and wearing no color on her face. It was difficult to believe the Jake he had known back during the war had a wife and a beautiful family like this. No wonder he had worked so hard preparing a home for them.

“Well, ma'am, the man talks about you constantly, so's sometimes I wish he'd shut up.” Miranda smiled through tears. “I've got to tell you, he's gone all out to make a lot of money so he could send for you, risked his life for it, in fact. He's been workin' as a guard for gold and silver shipments from the Gooseneck Mine, west of Denver. Fact is, he got wounded in a shoot-out with robbers a few months back, but he foiled the robbery and saved the shipment.”

Miranda's eyes widened with concern. “Wounded! Is he all right? Dear God, I should have been with him!”

“Well, he's feelin' a lot worse for not bein' able to be with
you
for almost two years now, believe me. Jake's fine. Took a bullet in his left shoulder that landed him in a Denver hospital. He said to tell you it didn't hurt as bad as when you shot him, but I think he was pullin' my leg. He's been a long time gettin' back the use of his arm.”

Miranda covered her mouth with her handkerchief in surprise. “He
told
you about me shooting him?”

Jess laughed lightly and shook his head. “I gotta say, you two had one strange way of gettin' together.” His smile faded. “He loves you an awful lot, ma'am, you and the boy. When I found him, he was drinkin' himself stupid, pinin' over you, thinkin' maybe it was best to leave you be and stay out of your life. Him and me, we've done a lot of talkin'. I knew Jake back during the war. Some people just get along and can talk with each other easy. There's no explainin' it. That's how it was with me and Jake.”

They talked quietly while Lloyd played with Evie, apparently lost in a set of blocks enough that he did not grasp the conversation. “Me, I lost my wife and kid to Yankee raiders back during the war,” Jess went on. “The Yankee bastards murdered them both, burned our place down. I wanted revenge, so I turned to raidin' Yankee trains and stealin' their rifles and ammunition, and money when it could be had. I helped smuggle the guns to the Confederates. That's when I met Jake. He was doin' the same thing. At any rate, after the war we kind of lost track of each other, both of us continuin' to live on the wrong side of the law, except I never got into as much trouble as ol' Jake managed to get himself into. Then a few months back I run into him at a place called Robber's Roost. It's on the Outlaw Trail and it's a place where men wantin' to avoid the law go to hide out. When I found Jake, it was pretty obvious he was thinkin' about goin' back to that old life. He'd already had a few run-ins with some men who figured they'd try to take down Jake Harkner. They're pushin' up flowers now. But Jake, he never really got back into the rest of it, rustlin', robbin', things like that. I was on my way to see about gettin' some respectable work in Colorado, and Jake decided to go with me.”

Miranda's mind whirled with a thousand questions. Surely she could trust this man. He had an honesty about him in spite of having lived on the wrong side of the law part of his life. “I'm sorry about your wife and child,” she told him. “It must have been terrible for you. I lost my own husband in the war, and then my father was killed by rebel raiders. Now it doesn't seem to matter who fought for which side. So many lives were destroyed.”

A sadness came into York's eyes as he pulled an envelope from his shirt pocket. “Yes, ma'am. I was just a law-abidin' farmer before it all started.” He handed her the envelope. “That there is a letter from Jake. By the way, he calls himself Jake Hayes now, decided to use the name you had before he married you so's it wouldn't feel so foreign to you.”

Miranda laid the rosary carefully on the table and took the letter, quickly opening it. She wiped at tears first so that she could see the writing better.
Dear
Randy, I'm sorry this all took longer than I thought it would. I have a place for us now in Colorado. It's real pretty here, not as warm all year as California, but prettier. Jess will explain how I ended up here. I'm a ranch foreman, and it's steady work that means we can settle here. I hope this letter finds you okay. I don't even know about the new baby, if it's a boy or a girl, how the birth went. How can I tell you how sorry I am about that? I miss you and Lloyd so much that I can hardly stand it
sometimes.

You
can
trust
Jess. He's an old friend and he knows all about us. He's probably the only person besides you who knows the whole truth about my past, about my pa. You know I wouldn't tell those things to anybody I didn't
trust.

I'll be going crazy waiting and wondering if you're going to come back with Jess. I sent him off when there was still snow in the mountains so he could reach you in time to get back here through the mountains during the summer months. I can only pray he'll reach you and get you back
safely.

I
love
you, Randy. It's safe now and I need you, but you do what you feel is right in your heart, what is best for you and for the babies. I won't give you any trouble over it, but I'll never know another day of happiness or ever love again like I love
you.

I'd tell you in Spanish, but I can only speak it. I can't write it. If you want to hear it in Spanish, you'll just have to come to Colorado. Love,
Jake

Miranda refolded the letter, smiling at the last words. She bent her head and wept quietly, the letter crushed in one hand, her handkerchief in the other. “Thank God,” she whispered.

York watched her, understanding now why Jake had been so hell-bent on making a home for this woman. How many women were strong enough to put up with such a long separation, to live not knowing whether or not they would ever hear from their husband again? She and Jake had both gone on blind faith, and it was obvious this woman's love was uniquely strong. How he would like to find a woman like this for himself. He just hoped he could get her back to Colorado with no trouble. He wouldn't want to answer to Jake if anything happened to the woman or the children. He wondered if he should comfort her somehow, but then she was Jake's woman, and he didn't think he ought to touch her. The embrace for the sake of Mr. Eastman downstairs was a necessity, but this woman was not for just any man to hold without a damn good excuse.

He cleared his throat, not quite knowing what to say to her. “Jake, he's workin' for the man who owned the mine. His name is Zane Parker, and he was along when Jake had the big shoot-out with the robbers. Parker figures Jake saved his life as well as the gold shipment. The man owns a huge spread south of Colorado Springs, about twenty thousand acres. He wanted to repay Jake for riskin' his life to save that gold shipment, and for savin' his life. Jake told him the best way to pay him was to let him work at the ranch for him, where he could settle some and send for his family. He told Parker he had a wife and two kids in California waitin' for him to find steady work, so Parker, he give Jake a piece of land in the northwest corner of the ranch—loaned it, so to speak. He had his men help Jake build a real nice home there, and put Jake in charge of the whole damn ranch. It's a hell of a good job, Randy, pays good, prettiest place you'd ever want to live. A job like that, stayin' on that ranch near the mountains, it ain't likely anybody will ever know who Jake really is. He's sure now it's safe for you to come there.”