Outlaw Hearts (40 page)

Lloyd noticed blood trickling down the side of his father's face. That first bullet must have grazed his head! A fraction of an inch, and his father would be dead!

“Now, look, mister, we just wanted—”

“I heard what you wanted, to kill me and my son and make off with everything that's ours! Now drop your guns! Your two friends out there are already dead. You want to join them?”

Lloyd rose and leveled his own rifle. The unexpected noise made one of the men go for his gun, and the next thing Lloyd knew, his father's rifle was blazing. He only had two bullets left in it, as he had not yet cleaned and reloaded the rifle that night. Two men went down, and Jake dropped and rolled, whipping out one of his Peacemakers and shooting down the other two men. It had all happened so fast that Lloyd had not even had time to raise his own rifle and fire at any of the men.

Jake got to his knees, and it was then that Lloyd saw another man step from the shadows and point a gun at Jake from behind. Lloyd raised his rifle and fired, and the man cried out and fell. Jake whirled, cocking and leveling his six-gun, only to see the man was already dead. It was one of the two he had shot at in the dark, and he realized he must not have quite hit his mark. He walked over and checked the body to see a hole in the man's head, put there, he knew, by a bullet from Lloyd's Winchester.

He slowly turned to face Lloyd, who walked out of the shadows to come over and stare at the dead man. “My God,” Lloyd uttered, looking down at his rifle then.

In that moment, Jake saw himself standing over his father. This was what he had feared the most, that his son would use a gun against another man. In his mind it was the worst thing that could have happened. For an instant he felt only rage, at himself, at society, at his own son. He grabbed the rifle from his hands. “What the hell do you think you're doing!” he roared. “I told you to stay put, not shoot somebody!”

Lloyd turned to face him with startled, tear-filled eyes. “What was I supposed to do, let him kill my own
pa
?”

Jake just glared at him a moment, burning, painful memories stabbing at him.
I
killed
my
own
pa!
How could this son of his ever possibly understand something like that? He would surely think it was the most despicable crime a man could commit, and he guessed it probably was.

Lloyd could not stop his tears or his own rage. “You told me just a little while ago, Pa, that if I have to shoot a man to save my own life, I wouldn't have any choice. Doesn't that go for saving my
pa's
life?”

Jake studied his son, weeping because he had killed his first man. He could only hope to God there would be no more, or that the boy would never find out just how many men his father had killed in his lifetime. He told himself Lloyd had not shot the man out of a pure mean streak like he had done so many times. The boy had shot the man because he was afraid he would kill his father. He had done it out of love. He closed his eyes and sighed, laying the rifles against a fallen log. He faced Lloyd, saw the boy struggling against tears. He folded him into his arms.

“I don't like it, Pa,” Lloyd wept. “I didn't mean to kill him. I just wanted to stop him from hurting you.”

“I know, son. It's all right. You did the right thing, and if it makes you feel any better, I don't doubt the man would have died from my own bullet anyway. I got him before you did, and close to the heart. He was already dying.”

He warned himself not to be angry with the boy, not to take out his own pain on him. It was the first time he could ever remember raising his voice to his son, and he reminded himself that at least the boy was bothered by having killed a man. He himself had lost that feeling of regret long ago, except to regret how all the killings might come back and destroy all that was dear to him. He remembered how scared and sorry he had been that first time, when he looked down at his father's dead body. He'd had no one to hold him and tell him it was all right, no one to talk to about what was right and what was wrong.

“I'm sorry I yelled at you, Lloyd. I just didn't want you to have to use your rifle that way so soon. I understand why you did it, but you have to remember to do what I say in situations like this. I can take care of myself. I heard that man behind me. I would have got him.”

Lloyd pulled away and wiped at his eyes with his hands. “I never saw anybody act so quick.” He looked his father over. “You're so fast, Pa. I never—” He hesitated. The dream! His father was shooting fast and furious, his handgun booming in Lloyd's ears just like tonight. Jake was holding him, hovering over him to protect him, shooting at several men who were firing back. He remembered it all now! It wasn't a dream at all! His mother was bleeding and screaming. His father was rolling on the ground with him. He'd been hurt that time too, and he'd gone away after that.

“California,” he muttered, watching a strange alarm come into his father's eyes. “Something like this happened in California when I was little, didn't it? What happened, Pa? We were at a fair or something like that. Why were men shooting at you? I remember you trying to protect me. I thought it was just a dream, so I never told you about it. But tonight, with all the shooting, I remember.”

Jake turned away and walked around to check the bodies. “We'll have to get their identifications, if they have any on them, and bury them, then tell Mr. Parker about this.”

“Pa, what happened in California?”

“Just some outlaws who tried to spoil the fair, that's all,” Jake lied, feeling the desperate fear again of being found out. “I was the only one there that day who was good enough with a gun to stop them. They had already hurt your mother and a few other people, were threatening to hurt more and rob the bank, so I put an end to it, that's all.”

Lloyd ran a shaking hand through his hair, looking at the rabbit that still hung over the fire. It was beginning to turn black. “But you left after that,” he said, meeting his father's eyes again.

Jake just stared at him, looking as though he wanted to tell him something very important. “I had already been planning on that,” he answered. “It was just strange timing, that's all. I'd heard there was good money to be made in the gold and silver mines near Denver, and I wasn't doing so well out in California, so I decided to come to Colorado and see if I could do better. I left your mother in California, figured the mining towns weren't a good place for her and you to be. I didn't know she was already expecting another baby when I left. It turned out I did the right thing. As soon as I landed this job and had a home ready for you and your mother, I sent Jess to get you, and that's how we all ended up in Colorado.”

Lloyd had more questions, but something told him his father wouldn't want to answer them. Why would he leave so quickly? That still didn't make sense, especially since he remembered Jake had been wounded. And why hadn't he come himself to get his family, instead of sending Jess? He turned and looked at the man he had shot, feeling a little sick. Maybe the questions didn't matter. He trusted his father, figured if there was something the man didn't want him to know, there must be a good reason.

“Do you think Mom will be angry that I shot a man?”

Jake walked closer to him again, relieved the boy had asked no more questions about California. “She'll understand.” He put a hand on Lloyd's shoulder. “You did what you had to do, Lloyd. But you can see how dangerous this job is. You're meant for better things than this. Someday you'll make your living with a pen in your hand instead of a gun. The land is changing, son. Things like this won't happen so much in a few more years, and men won't set their own law. There will be more courts and judges for things like that. Maybe you'll be a lawyer, one of the men who makes sure men like this”—
the
kind
of
man
I
used
to
be
—“don't bring harm to people anymore.”

Lloyd nodded. “Maybe.” He looked up at his father. “I don't feel too good.”

Oh, the memories. Jake remembered vomiting after shooting his father. “I know, son. I know. You just remember there was nothing else you could have done.” He pulled the boy close again, cursing himself for teaching him to use the rifle, yet knowing he'd really had no choice. Lloyd was becoming a man, and there was no stopping it, just like Randy had said. Trouble was, the older he got, the more questions he asked, and the harder it was to lie to him, but in moments like this, when his son saw the ugliness of the kind of man his own father used to be, it only seemed all the more important to keep the truth hidden.

“You go sit back down by the fire, Lloyd. I'll pull these bodies out of the way and we'll bury them as soon as it's light.”

Lloyd nodded and walked on shaking legs back to the fire. Suddenly, he wasn't hungry anymore. He lay down in his bedroll and pulled a blanket over himself, watching his father strain to pull the bodies out of sight. He knew he should probably help, but it was a strange feeling killing a man. He couldn't bring himself to touch the dead bodies, and somehow his father understood that. He couldn't help wondering how his father could kill so many men and not seem terribly upset by it. Maybe it just came with age, or maybe when a man was older it was easier to hide his emotions. After all, these weren't the first men his father had killed.

He figured Jake had had a pretty rough life when he was young, being orphaned at fourteen and all. He wished his father would talk more about it, but he never seemed to want to. He pulled the blanket closer around his neck, remembering the look in his father's dark eyes when those men had attacked them. It was a mean, frightening look he'd never seen there before, and it was still there when Jake had ripped his rifle from his hands and hollered at him. He'd never done that before, either, yelled like that. The meanness had quickly turned to something akin to fear…no, more like horror, and somehow he sensed it had nothing to do with the fact that his son had killed his first man. It was something else—something deep inside his own father—something to do with that terrible secret Lloyd was sure the man was keeping from him.

He'd seen that look before, remembered now. It was the day of that shoot-out back in California. Something was being left out, but he loved and trusted his father enough to believe that whatever it was, it must be best that he didn't know.

June 1885

Jake swallowed a drink of cold beer from a glass handed to him by one of Zane Parker's servants. He watched Lloyd dance in a slow waltz twirl with Beth, both of them laughing as Beth taught him the right steps.

“He really loves her,” Miranda spoke up, coming to stand beside him.

“I know,” Jake answered. “It's pretty obvious.” Lloyd was eighteen now, and Jake had to agree with others that the boy was damn handsome. Other young girls at Zane Parker's annual hoedown were watching him, and Jake could see the envy in their eyes for Beth, who was the only girl there Lloyd cared about. Both of them would be going off to college in the fall, Lloyd to the University of Colorado at Boulder, Beth to a finishing school in the East.

Already Lloyd was talking about writing Beth every day, and Beth was talking about not wanting to go. They didn't want to be apart, and it had taken several long conversations to convince both of them they were doing the right thing.

Jake wanted more than anything for Lloyd to have the education he'd never had; he also did not want Lloyd to risk losing Beth to an irate father who was determined that sixteen was far too young to be thinking about spending her life with someone. She had barely been out in the world away from the ranch, except to school in Denver in the winters. Zane Parker had big plans for his daughter, including sending her to Europe. Jake knew Parker liked and respected Lloyd, but this was not the time for getting too serious. He had to agree with the man, but from the look on Lloyd's face, things had already gotten beyond the mark of casual friendship. He set his beer aside and put an arm around Miranda's shoulders. “How about a dance?”

She smiled and put her own arm around his waist, and they walked onto the wooden platform Parker had erected for his guests to dance on without getting dusty. It was in front of a huge barn where tables of food and drinks were set up for the 150-plus people who had turned out for the annual spring celebration held at the ranch after roundup and branding. Not only all the men who worked on the ranch and their families came, but people were invited from as far away as Pueblo and Colorado Springs. There were even two couples there from Denver.

Jake put a hand to Miranda's waist and slowly began turning with her, thinking how beautiful and petite she looked in the new dress she had made, white cotton with pink and yellow flowers. He remembered that first dance at Fort Laramie on their wedding day. How was it, he wondered, that after nineteen years she had hardly changed; or did he just see her through the eyes of love? Maybe it was only in his mind and heart that she had not changed. She felt the same in his arms, looked the same to his eyes, except that just this year, a tiny hint of white had begun to appear in little streaks through her honey-colored hair, which sported so many shades of blond and ash that the white hairs were difficult to detect. He usually hardly noticed them at all. It was Miranda who fussed over them.

She couldn't really be thirty-nine years old, could she? That meant he was forty-nine. Some days he felt much younger, like today; but there were also days when he felt a hell of a lot older, especially when his hip acted up on him.

Miranda glanced at Evie, who was dancing with a young cowhand Jake had recently hired. Lonnie Mix was only seventeen, and had been on his own for two years. Jake felt sorry for him because he was orphaned and alone, but now he scowled when he glanced at the young man and saw his hand at Evie's waist.

“Evie is growing up too, Jake. Don't go getting all upset. It's just a dance.”

“And she's just a little girl,” he grumped. “If any man ever hurts her, I'll light into him so bad he'll never walk again.”

“Jake Hayes, you'd better face the fact that your little girl is going to fall in love and get married. She's fifteen years old. I was married myself at sixteen and I was perfectly happy.”

He looked down at her, still frowning. “Well, I'm sorry about what happened to your first husband, but I'm a little jealous of him too.” He pulled her a little closer. “I don't like the thought of any other man being with you.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek.

“Jake, people are watching!” she chided, blushing.

“Let them watch.” He studied her lovingly. “You know, there could have been any number of other men in your life. I've always wondered why you picked me, why you hung in there through all the bad times.”

She thought how age only seemed to make him more handsome. The shoulder on which her hand rested was still solid and strong. “We don't always pick the person we're going to love, Jake. It just happens. I stuck with you because no matter how bad things got, I knew nothing could be as bad as having to be without you.” She smiled. “Besides, the good times have far outweighed the bad. And look at your children, how happy and secure they are. Remember how worried you were when Lloyd was born, how scared you were of being a father? I don't think you could have done a better job of loving them, Jake.”

They watched Lloyd and Beth walk off together. “Yeah, well, as far as Lloyd is concerned, he's got a new love, but I worry about Parker suddenly deciding Lloyd isn't good enough for his daughter. I'm not sure I could keep working for the man if he hurt Lloyd that way. I've raised him to be honest and responsible, and he's as good as any of Zane Parker's fancy friends.”

“Jake, stop worrying. Mr. Parker seems to be very much in favor of their seeing each other, or he would have already put a stop to it. He told us himself he doesn't mind, as long as nothing interferes with Beth going to finishing school. It's very possible that once they're both off to college, they'll find other interests.” She shook her head. “Do you realize that you spend most of your waking hours worrying about those children? There comes a time when you have to let go and let them do their own growing up.”

The dance ended, and Jake walked her back to the table where he had left his beer. “It's hard to stop. And don't tell me
you
don't worry.” His smile faded when he noticed a small troop of soldiers riding in to join the party. He had been aware that Parker intended to invite the new commander from Fort Lyon to the event, and it made him uneasy. Parker was working on striking a deal with the government to sell beef to the fort and also for shipment to Indian reservations to the south. As Parker's foreman, Jake would have to deal with soldiers.

He watched Parker greet the soldiers and shake hands with their commander after the man dismounted. He immediately began introducing the soldier to several of his business cohorts. Jake had always liked Zane Parker, in spite of the rather pompous airs the man sometimes showed. He was always dressed in a dapper suit, gold chain-watch dangling from the pocket of his vest. The balding, blue-eyed man was not very tall, but he was stout, and he was seldom seen without a cigar in his mouth. He was probably one of the richest men in Colorado, owned several mines now, as well as this ranch, which was one of the biggest in the state; but most of the time he didn't brag or flaunt his wealth.

Parker had been fair to Jake over the years, paid him well, treated his family like his own. Several times the Hayes family had been invited to the sprawling Parker ranch-home for meals, and so far Parker did not seem to be upset by Beth always wanting to see Lloyd when she was home summers. When she was away winters, she and Lloyd wrote each other often. Jake had to admire the man for the good job he had done raising his daughter alone these past few years. Beth could sometimes act spoiled and snooty, but usually she was a sweet girl who seemed unaffected by her wealth.

Parker began walking toward Jake and Miranda, the ever-present cigar in his mouth, his arm on the fort commander's shoulder. “Jake!” the man called out. “I want you to meet the man you'll probably be dealing with often over the next couple of years.” They came closer. “This is Lieutenant Phil Gentry from Fort Lyon. Lieutenant, this is my top man, Jake Hayes.”

Jake put out his hand, and the lieutenant took it, squeezing lightly. Jake thought the lieutenant studied him a little too closely, and there seemed to be a hint of surprise in the man's eyes when he first looked at him and heard his name. Did this man know him from somewhere? Jake tried to place him, but he did not look at all familiar to him.

“Good to meet you, Mr. Hayes,” the man was saying. “
Jake
Hayes, right?”

“That's right,” Jake answered. “I've worked for Mr. Parker now for almost fifteen years.”

“Yes. He's told me how you saved his life once, says you're faster and more accurate with a gun than any man in Colorado,” Gentry said, studying Jake closely.

“And Jake knows me and the cattle business so well, I let him make all the decisions for me in that department,” Parker put in. “Once I strike a deal with the government to sell my beef, it's Jake you'll be dealing with from then on. Whatever he tells you, you can figure it's me talking. You won't need to verify anything through me first.” The man turned to Miranda. “Oh, and this is Jake's beautiful wife Miranda.”

Miranda blushed a little as the lieutenant nodded and tipped his hat to her. Jake kept watching the soldier, figured him to be about the same age as himself. He was tall and skinny, his eyes pale blue. From what he could see of the man's hair beneath his hat, it was sandy colored; at the left side of his neck was a dark brown discoloration of his otherwise light skin, a birthmark, Jake figured. That was what bothered him. He had seen that birthmark before, but when? Where? If he had ever met this man, did the lieutenant remember? He had an uneasy feeling that the lieutenant was having the same thoughts.

“Oh, and over there is my daughter, Lieutenant, with Jake's son,” Parker was saying. “Now, have you ever seen a more beautiful couple?” The man grinned and looked at Jake. “Jake, I always thought you were a handsome man, but that son of yours is a heartbreaker if I ever saw one.” He laughed. “He wouldn't break my Beth's heart now, would he?”

Jake grinned. “He's too good-hearted himself to break someone else's heart. And speaking of heartbreakers, your daughter has every man's head turning.”

Zane guffawed, a proud look on his face. “She's the image of her mother. My wife was a beautiful woman.” His smile faded a little. “I miss her terribly, but having Beth around makes me feel like she's still with me. Just wait till she gets back from finishing school. I'll wager there won't be a more beautiful, more elegant young lady in all of Colorado.”

“And by then Lloyd will be practicing law in Denver, if we can get him to leave the ranch,” Miranda spoke up. “He loves it here.”

Parker nodded. “I kind of hate to lose him. He'd be a good replacement for Jake someday.” He gave Jake a teasing look. “When Jake's too old and decrepit to keep up with this kind of work.”

Beth and Lloyd joined others in a square dance, and the conversation turned to sheepherders and barbed-wire fences. Miranda left to help some of the other wives serve up pieces of pies they had all brought to donate to the hoedown. The dessert tables were set up just outside the barn where all the food was being served, and not far away a whole young steer was being roasted over an open pit of hot coals.

Miranda watched people visiting and catching up on a winter's news, and she supposed this must be the biggest crowd she could remember. The dancers were shouting and laughing, as were the onlookers, as a man called out a confusing square dance that kept the dancers turning in circles and bumping into each other. A ten-piece ensemble of banjos, fiddles, a trumpet, a drummer, and a guitar played a variety of songs, from slow waltzes to sing-alongs to wild square dances.

She liked these get-togethers as a chance for Jake to relax after the long, hard hours he and Lloyd both put into helping with spring roundup and branding. It was a wonderful opportunity to see neighbors who lived miles away, a chance for Evie to meet new young people, and it felt good to see so many people after a long, lonely winter spent buried against the mountains, sometimes unable to get out for days on end.

She watched Lloyd and Beth leave the crowd then and walk off alone together. They seemed so happy, had been good friends for so many years now, a good foundation for love.

She was glad there had been no more incidents like the one four years ago when Lloyd had killed that squatter who had attacked him and Jake. She did not doubt that the incident had affected Jake more deeply than Lloyd. It had shattered him to see his son shoot a man, but he had since come to realize it did not mean Lloyd was going to take the wrong path in life.

Lately the problem had come up again. Over the past year, Zane Parker had set his men to ridding his land of sheepherders who had begun letting their animals graze on land Parker claimed was meant only for cattle. Jake had been left with the responsibility of leading raids against the sheepherders, and he didn't like the assignment. He had talked about quitting as Parker's right-hand man if the raids had to continue. They brought back too many memories of his own days as an outlaw, and he no longer cared to go gunning after innocent people.

Legally, a lot of Parker's land was really public land, and the sheepherders had every right to be there. The situation left Jake caught in the middle and had been a source of contention between Jake and Lloyd, which upset him even more. Lloyd wanted to go with his father and the other men on the raids, but Jake would not let him go. Lloyd had thought he was old enough and skilled enough now to be allowed to participate in all phases of ranch work, but Jake knew there could be trouble, maybe shooting, and he worried that Lloyd would be forced into a situation again where he had to use his gun against another man.

“Why is it all right for you, and not for me?” Lloyd had asked.

“Because you're a hundred times
better
than me,” Jake had answered. “You belong to a new generation, Lloyd, of men who do their fighting in the courts and not with guns. That's where this whole mess with the sheepherders is going to end up, in the courts. I'm doing what Parker pays me to do, and only because he pays me well, and that money is sending you to college so you can learn to live by the law and not by
these
.” He had held up his Peacemakers, and it was one of those rare times when he was genuinely angry with Lloyd.