Outlaw Hearts (53 page)

Brian watched in dismay. The things he had heard from others about this man's past did not fit the man he saw now, a devoted father weeping over his son's wayward life. In spite of his condition, Jake Harkner still emanated an aura of power and danger. Somewhere behind those tired, dark eyes he could detect the man who could be ruthless, who could kill, the battered boy turned murderous outlaw. Miranda Harkner had tamed that part of him, and his children had taught him the true meaning of love, so much so that the man was shattered by the loss of his son's affections.

“It's the whiskey,” Jake said, once he was able to speak again. “He just needs to get off the whiskey. It's just like my pa. He could never control his drinking. That's why I never drank a whole lot and never wanted Lloyd even to try it. He's got it in him, Randy. He's got that damned weakness for whiskey my father had, and it's making him do crazy things.”

“There is one difference, Jake,” Miranda answered firmly. “Lloyd is
not
your father! He doesn't have that meanness in him. He's softhearted and a good person deep inside; and the one biggest difference is how he was raised. Look what a good person Evie is. Lloyd is the same. He just needs to learn a few things the hard way, but he
will
learn, and he'll remember. He'll come home. If I have to go into outlaw country myself and fetch him, he'll come home!”

“Don't you dare!” Jake sat up a little straighter, and Brian saw the flash of meanness. “Don't you dare go into that country alone, you hear me? I wasn't even going to tell you about Lloyd because I was afraid you'd do exactly what you're talking about doing! Those places are filled with bastards as ruthless and worthless as the men I used to run with. It's no place for someone like you!”

“Then I'll find someone who can take me.”

“Who? Who besides Jess could you trust? With Jess gone there's
no
body! There's only
me
! I'm the only one who can do it! I just have to get well and find a way to get the hell out of here!”

Miranda glanced at the doorway. A guard stood just outside. Jake was the only one left in the medical ward today, so there was no one to hear. “Please don't talk that way, Jake. If you try to escape, I'll never see you again! They'll either catch you and shoot you down, or put you back in here for the rest of your life! If that doesn't happen, you'll have to run forever. Either way, you'll be gone from my life.” Her eyes teared with terror. “Please don't try it, Jake.”

“What the hell else am I going to do? Lloyd's the only one who matters here. It's for our
son
!”

“Jake, I could go with Randy, or help her find someone trustworthy,” Brian put in.

Jake glanced at him, leaning back against the pillows with a scowl. “Don't get me wrong, Brian. I'm sure you're a brave man who can hold his own, but you don't know the kind of men you'd be up against. The only way to know who to trust among such men is someone who was once just like them, someone who can read them inside and out. They're ruthless. Most of them don't give a damn about another human life. They'd just as soon shoot you in the back for the rings on your fingers as to look at you. I sure as hell ought to know.”

“Father, we'll find a way to help Lloyd,” Evie put in. “We'll do whatever it takes.”

The door to the ward opened then, and all four looked up to see Warden Pruett coming toward them, a piece of paper in his hand. The man had a look of chagrin on his face, and he scowled at Miranda as he came to stand at the foot of the bed. “Well,” he said with a hint of sarcasm, “I don't know what you've been telling that judge back in St. Louis, but something is up.”

Miranda's heart quickened, and she rose. “What do you mean?”

Pruett held up the paper. “This is a letter from Judge Mitchell. Soon as Jake is able to travel, he's to go back to St. Louis for a possible resentencing. All it says is that some new evidence has been discovered. I've got no idea which way he means, good news or bad.”

Miranda took the letter from him and read it to the others.
To
the
attention
of
Warden
Howard
Pruett, Wyoming Territorial Penitentiary, Laramie, Wyoming Territory: You are ordered to transfer prisoner Jackson Lloyd Harkner to St. Louis, Missouri, St. Louis County Jail, where he will be temporarily under my jurisdiction until decision has been made regarding new evidence and resentencing. Transfer is to be made as soon as possible.
Miranda looked at Jake, her eyes alight with hope. “This is something good, Jake! I feel it. I've prayed too hard for too long to have it mean anything but your freedom!”

Jake put a hand to his head. “What the hell kind of new evidence can they possibly have after twenty-four years? It's probably just somebody else who wants to testify to some raid or some other murder.”

“It can't be. The judge said at your trial that evidence pertaining only to the charges you were wanted for could be used against you.”

“They can always come up with new charges, open a new trial for different reasons. I don't think you've ever understood the kind of reputation I had back there.” He took the letter from her and studied it. “Maybe Texas has decided to try me for my father's and Santana's murders. They figured I killed
both
of them deliberately.”

“Jake, read the letter. It says new evidence—resentencing. You're being transferred to Judge Mitchell's jurisdiction, not to Texas. That can only mean it pertains to the charges you were already tried for, nothing new.” She handed the letter back to Pruett. “Thank you for letting us stay here this long.”

Pruett took the letter. “Frankly, I'll be glad to see all of you leave, including Jake. I hope
none
of you will be coming back.” He folded the letter. “I'll wire the judge and tell him Jake is sick and that we'll send him back as soon as he's well enough. In the meantime, all three of you will have to get out of here. I've gone against the rules letting you stay this long.” He saw the worry in Miranda's eyes. “Look, Mrs. Harkner, I want to get rid of him as bad as you want him out of here. We'll take good care of him.”

The man left, and Miranda pulled the blankets up closer around Jake's neck. “You've got to get well just as fast as you can so we can go back to St. Louis. After that, we'll decide what to do about Lloyd. This could be something that might change everything for us.”

Jake watched her, grinning slightly. “Damn slip of a woman,” he muttered. He looked at Brian. “She's like a damn mother hen. I don't know what to do with her. I've tried to make her give up on me a hundred times over the years, but she just keeps hovering around. I can't get through to the woman.”

Brian smiled. “She loves you.”

“Yeah? Well, I should have left her back there at Fort Laramie all those years ago and just ridden out of her life. She would have been a hell of a lot better off.”

Miranda took his hand. “I would have been very unhappy for the rest of my life.”

Jake studied her gray-blue eyes. “I want to take hope in the letter from that judge, Randy, but after four and a half years in this place, it's pretty hard for a man to take hope in anything.”

“In a few days, when you're well enough, we're going to leave this place, Jake Harkner, and we're never coming back.” She kept a tight hold of his hand. Their eyes held, and Brian saw in Jake's eyes an amazing love and adoration he would not have thought possible for a man with his past. He had always thought that all of Evie's love and passion and sweet devotion came from her mother. God knew Miranda Harkner had shown a great capacity to love beyond all obstacles and disappointments, a patience few people possessed. But it was obvious now that a great deal of Evie's loyalty and compassion came from her father, the notorious outlaw Jake Harkner. He realized now more clearly than ever that Jake had never been a killer at heart. In his worst days the man had really been an angry, frightened boy, lashing out at the world. Randy had understood that.

He closed his eyes and said a quick, silent prayer that the news in St. Louis would be good. He didn't want to see the looks on either Randy's or Evie's face if they were told Jake would be coming back to this place to spend the rest of his life here.

***

Jake waited in the St. Louis County Jail, grateful that at least these cells were bigger than those at Laramie. He was waiting to see the judge, still in the dark over what this was all about. Attorney Mattson was still in town, and Miranda had gone to see him, but the man had told her he couldn't say what it was about. He didn't want to give her too much hope when it might all come to nothing.

Right now Jake was not in his cell. Guards had brought him to a windowless room where there was just a table and chair. He sat in the chair, nervously rubbing his hands together. He'd been guarded by six men on the train ride back to St. Louis, kept in a separate car from Miranda, Evie, and Brian, who had all come along. In spite of both his hands and ankles being cuffed all the way there, just being outside of the Laramie penitentiary, being on that train and able to look out a window at a world he hadn't seen in over four years, gave him a taste of freedom that persuaded him he'd do anything not to have to go back.

All that mattered now was Lloyd. Somehow he had to help the boy. If he was sent back to prison, he'd break out. He felt better now, stronger. He wasn't fully recovered, but he'd gotten plenty of rest on the trip, which had taken nearly a week. For two weeks before that at the prison, he'd forced himself to keep still, eat right, keep warm, and drink plenty of water like Brian had instructed. He hadn't touched a cigar or cigarette for over three weeks because Brian said it would only irritate his lungs, but he figured he sure as hell could use a smoke right now. Whatever was going to happen, it would happen today, and the waiting was torture. Finally he heard voices outside. “You sure, lady?”

“Yes, I'm sure,” he heard a woman answer one of the guards. “I want to see him alone.”

Jake couldn't see outside the door. He heard the key turn in the lock, and the door opened. A woman stepped inside. She was beautiful, dressed in an elegant, deep green velvet dress that spoke of a person of wealth. Her feathered hat was perched perfectly atop dark red hair that was drawn up and pinned into a cascade of curls. She held her head erect and proud, her eyes as green as the dress, her skin lovely but slightly lined, telling him she was probably older than she looked. He took a rough guess that she was about Miranda's age, maybe a little younger. Something about her looked familiar.

He rose from the chair to greet her, surprised when the guard closed the door and left them alone. After all, he was supposed to be a notorious outlaw, a rapist, and he hadn't been alone with a woman in years. Why wasn't this woman afraid of him? He stood there before her in confusion, glad he'd been given the opportunity to shower and shave, had been given a haircut and a new shirt and denim pants to wear before having to go before the judge. He wouldn't want this elegant woman to see him looking his worst and wearing prison clothes. But why was she here? He studied her intently just as she was studying him in return. Her eyes moved over him, rested again on his face, met his eyes.

“It
is
you,” she said softly. “You don't know who I am, do you, Jake?”

Jake frowned, trying to remember. “You look a little familiar. Am I
supposed
to know you?”

She smiled with a hint of sadness. “You should. You risked your life to save mine about twenty-four years ago. I was only sixteen then. I was devastated and terrified and suicidal at the time. It took me a while to remember what really happened, who helped me, but after a year or two of healing, I remembered.”

Hope welled in Jake's heart. That red hair, those green eyes! “Louella Griffith?”

She stepped a little closer. “Louella Adams now. My parents moved with me to New York. We never told anyone what had happened to me. I eventually married a very wealthy man who owned a shipping empire. I've been living in Europe for several years now. By the time I remembered all the details of what had happened to me, I was a married woman, and I didn't want my husband to know about—” She looked away. “Those men, what they did to me. You were long gone. No one had ever been arrested, so I let it go. I wanted to forget about it, all of it, if that was possible.” She shivered, turned back to face him. “My husband died this past winter. I came home to spend some time with my parents while I'm in mourning. They told me then that you had been arrested and sentenced a few years ago. They had kept the newspaper article about it.” She smiled. “Did you know you made the New York newspapers?”

Jake just stared at her in disbelief. Here was the woman he had rescued! Here was his proof of innocence. He couldn't find his voice.

Louella studied him closely again. “I remembered you. You told me your name was Jake Harkner. You wrapped a blanket around me and held me, and you told me not to be afraid of you. I remember the awful gunfire, the hard ride on that horse. You're older now, but the face isn't so different, especially not the eyes. I always remembered your eyes, how they could be so ruthless one minute and so kind the next. When I heard you were sitting in prison, that you had a wife and a son and a daughter, I knew I had to do something.” She reached out and touched his arm. “You saved me, Jake. Those men would have killed me. You gave me a chance at life again. Now I can do the same for you. I have already talked to the judge. That's why he ordered you back here, so I could identify you. I couldn't be sure until I actually set eyes on you again. We're going over to the courthouse in a few minutes. I'll testify for the record that you had nothing to do with that robbery or the killings that took place or with what happened to me. I don't know what the judge will do then. I can only tell my side of the story. I'm just sorry I wasn't here when you were tried, but then my husband was still alive and I probably couldn't have spoken up anyway. I never wanted him to know.” Her cheeks flushed. “I'm sure you can understand why.”