Outlaw Hearts (54 page)

He looked down at the slender hand on his arm, touched it hesitantly with his own hand. “I don't know what to say, except thank you. My wife and daughter are here with me. They have prayed and prayed for something to happen that might get me out of this. Seeing you walk in here is like a miracle. You're a godsend, Louella.”

She met his eyes. “And you were a godsend all those years ago. Sometimes God uses the most unlikely people to answer prayer, Jake. He used you that day to answer my prayers that I be freed from those awful men.”

He grinned. “I can't quite see myself in that light, but you can look at it however you want. I'm just glad as hell you're here.”

She moved away from him and went to the door, turning again for a moment. “I went to the courthouse and saw your wife and daughter. They're both quite beautiful. I heard a reporter interviewing them, and I could tell by the way your wife spoke that she loves you very much. Your daughter talked about what a good father you were all of her life, wept with the hope that maybe you were going to be released. I knew then I was doing the right thing.” She glanced at his hips. “You don't look fully dressed without those guns you wore. I'll always remember how fast you were.” She turned and called for the guard. The door opened, and she left.

Jake stared after her, wondering if it was real. Louella Griffith had finally emerged from the past to tell the truth.

***

Judge Mitchell pounded his gavel and commanded the courtroom to quiet. Word had spread that Jake was back and that there was new evidence regarding his case, and by the time he was brought to court, the room was filled with curious onlookers. Louella Griffith Adams had just finished her testimony. “Jake Harkner is not guilty of any of the charges for which he has been imprisoned for the last four years,” she concluded. “He had nothing to do with the bank robbery that day, or with my abduction and abuse. The man saved my life and risked his own in doing so.”

The filled courtroom had come alive, and reporters wrote rapidly on their tablets. A photographer who had been allowed to set up his camera near Jake took a quick picture, the flash powder exploding in a
poof
. Jake turned and scowled at the man, and he backed away, grinning nervously. The judge kept pounding the gavel for quiet, and Miranda clung to Evie's hand, unable to control her tears. Louella Adams was like an angel from heaven as far as she was concerned.

Attorney Mattson rose. “Your Honor, I move that all charges against Jake Harkner be dropped and that he be set free,” the man spoke up.

The courtroom quieted again, waiting for the judge's decision. Judge Mitchell told Louella to step down. The woman left the stand, glancing at Miranda with a gentle smile before taking her seat. The judge ordered Jake to rise, and all whispering stopped as everyone waited to hear Jake's fate.

“Jake Harkner, I have heard Mrs. Adams's testimony, and I am fully convinced the woman is telling the truth. She has no reason to make up such a story, and after the unspeakable acts committed against her, she most certainly would not now testify in your favor if you had anything to do with those acts. Her story coincides in every detail with the story you told me in this courtroom four years ago. All charges in this particular case will be removed from your record. However—”

Miranda's heart fell. However! What was the man doing? Jake should be set free now!

“You admitted of your own accord, and it is a well-known fact, that you did commit other crimes in your days as an outlaw. I am not so sure that four years is long-enough punishment for all the other crimes you committed, but then if I paid attention to the almost-weekly letters I have received from your wife ever since I sentenced you, I would have been convinced that four
days
was long enough.” A few whispers and light laughter moved through the courtroom. “A woman that devoted doesn't love a man that much for no good reason. She has lauded your attributes to me for years, and I am convinced that no further time in prison, especially at your age, is going to do anyone any good.”

Miranda breathed another sigh of relief until the judge continued. “I do believe, though, that some kind of further retribution is in order,” the man said. “Do you still think you can handle yourself with guns?”

Jake was surprised at the question. “I don't know. It's been a while. And my right hand is partly crippled.”

“You can shoot a rifle or a shotgun with it, can't you?”

“I suppose.”

“And you were as good with a handgun with your left hand as with your right. Am I correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

Miranda's heartbeat quickened. What was the man getting at?

The judge sighed, looking at some papers. “Well, I expect knowing how to handle guns is like riding a horse well or being good at blacksmithing or carving or any other thing a man does well. You never quite forget it. There is trouble in Oklahoma Territory right now, what with the recent land rush there. Towns like Guthrie that have sprung up overnight are in a state of lawless disarray, and there is trouble throughout the Territory between the Indians and ranchers as well as between ranchers and sheepherders; all kinds of problems that bring up a need for lawmen there, including the fact that outlaws still hide out in Indian Territory. Who would be better at hunting down such men than someone like yourself, someone who understands them, knows the best places to look for them and can outshoot the best of them? I am appointing you a Deputy U.S. Marshal to serve in Indian Territory. I am aware that you have been ill. I'll give you three months to rest and get your life in order before you have to report for duty in Kansas City to that state's attorney general. He will instruct you as to what area and to whom you will report in Oklahoma. You will then be given time to settle your family wherever that might be.”

The man pounded his gavel, and Jake just stared at the judge, dumbfounded. A Deputy Marshal! Jake Harkner? He wanted to laugh at the irony of the sentence. Miranda was at his side in an instant. She threw her arms around him, and he embraced her, still feeling almost dazed by his new freedom. “Oh, Jake, it's real! You're free! You're free!” she wept.

There were more flashes from more photographers. Evie was hugging him too now. Jake glanced over at Louella Adams. She was watching him, smiling. She turned away then and left the courtroom, and in that one little moment Jake knew the true meaning of prayer and faith.

“Three months,” he told Miranda, kissing her hair. “I've got time to go and find Lloyd.” He looked over at Brian, who was shaking Attorney Mattson's hand. “Go find Mrs. Adams and bring her back here. Hell, the least we can do is treat the woman to a steak dinner tonight at the best restaurant in town.”

“Oh, yes, Jake, we owe her so much,” Miranda said, weeping.

Brian quickly left to catch the woman, and Judge Mitchell stepped down from the bench and approached Jake. He put out his hand, a stern look on his face. Jake let go of Miranda and Evie, reaching out to shake the man's hand.

“Don't make me out to be a fool, Jake,” the judge told him. “Prove to me you're the dependable man I think you'll be.”

Jake nodded. “I will be.”

“Well, you can thank your wife for my generosity. She's a one-woman locomotive, let me tell you. She even has
me
talking prison reform to those who will listen, and her letters about you were beginning to give me quite a case of guilt. It made it very difficult for me to discern the law from personal emotion. You've got quite a woman there, Mr. Harkner. Her faith in you never waned.”

“I'm well aware of how lucky I am to have her,” Jake answered, moving an arm back around Miranda. “If I can just find my son now and help him, I'll have my family back.”

“I wish you luck in that, Jake. Heaven knows you can attest to the boy how wrong and pointless it is to get into a life of crime.” The judge nodded to the others and left them, and the courtroom began to clear.

Jake closed his eyes and prayed he would be able to find Lloyd before he had to report to Kansas City. The thought of seeing his son again brought a quick ache to his chest, a mixture of fear, anticipation, joy, sorrow. All he could see was the little boy who used to ride on his shoulders, who looked to him with such love and trust, who cried the day he gave him his first rifle. How much of that little boy was left in the man? How much had hatred replaced the sweet love Lloyd used to have for his father?

He looked down at Miranda, and they embraced again. He could enjoy that embrace now. God, it felt good to hold her, smell her, feel her against him! For the first time since he was fourteen years old and had fled Texas, he was truly a free man.

Miranda removed her hat and set it on a chair, glancing at the four-poster bed in the elegant room Brian had taken for them at the finest hotel in St. Louis. Miranda and Jake had both objected, but Brian and Evie had insisted that this first night alone together and Jake's first night as a free man should be spent in the most comfortable place possible.

Jake closed and locked the door. He turned to face her, watching her lovingly. She met his eyes, knew by the look there that he was just as unsure and hesitant as she. “It's been a long time for both of us, Jake. All I really care about is sleeping with you beside me tonight, lying in your arms, feeling your breath on my neck.” Her eyes grew misty as she walked up and embraced him. “I can hardly believe this has happened. Life is going to be so good for us now, Jake. We'll find Lloyd and we'll all be together again, just like I said would happen.” She looked up at him. “I told you to never stop believing, didn't I?”

He kept one arm around her and with his other hand he began pulling pins from her hair. “We haven't found Lloyd yet.”

“We will. Tonight let's just enjoy being together, enjoy the news Brian and Evie gave us.” She smiled. “Our first grandchild, Jake! Life is going to be so good for us now. Let's wallow in this wonderful freedom. For the first time in years you'll sleep in a real bed with me beside you.”

He closed his eyes and leaned down to kiss her hair as he ran his hand through it to fluff it out from all the pins. He relished the silken feel of it, breathed in the smell of soap and lilac perfume. “Randy,” he whispered, “I don't even know if I can be a real husband to you anymore. It's been so long, it's like, like that part of me died.”

She pulled back and began unbuttoning his shirt. “I told you that all I want is to sleep beside you. Getting back to a normal life is going to take time. I know that.” She looked up at him, leaned up and kissed his lips, lightly at first.

Memories and needs began flooding in then for both of them. Jake returned the kiss with a deeper one, the lingering, groaning kiss of a man long deprived of a woman's softness, a woman's love, a woman's pleasures. In all the years since he'd first met her, he'd never wanted her this badly, but to his horror, nothing was happening physically to make that possible. He released the kiss, closing his eyes and turning away. He angrily removed his shirt.

Miranda went to her bag and took out a flannel gown, deciding it was best to say nothing. After four years in prison, being so sick the last two months, worrying over Lloyd, he was expecting too much of himself. This was a personal matter that she decided only Jake could work out with himself. The more she tried to soothe him, the worse he would feel.

She went into a changing room and undressed, coming out to find Jake already in bed, the lamp turned low. She moved into bed beside him. “Just hold me and never let go,” she whispered. His arms came around her, and she snuggled into his shoulder. “Of all the times we've made love, this moment is the most pleasurable of my life, Jake Harkner, just having you beside me like this.”

He stroked her hair, kissed it. She moved her hands over him lovingly, realizing then he had worn nothing to bed. She decided to just lie quietly, let him sleep if that was what he wanted. It had been a long day for them both. “I love you, Jake.”

“
Yo
te
quiero, mi esposa
,” he answered softly.

It was the most blessedly wonderful experience of her life, as far as she was concerned. He was free! Free! They had shared a wonderful dinner with Evie and Brian and Louella Adams, Jake ignoring the stares of the other patrons. After dinner, she and Jake had rented a carriage and sat in each other's arms while they were driven around and shown the city, which was lovely at night. Miranda remembered the last time she had been here, how she had hated it.

Now she loved it, loved the judge, loved Louella Adams, loved life, and oh, how she loved Jake! She was not sure how long she lay in his solid arms before she finally fell asleep, or how much time passed before she was awakened by his soft caress. By the pale lamplight he had untied the front of her gown and pushed it away from one breast. He touched the breast gently, his thumb stirring the nipple to life.

Miranda knew this was a delicate moment for him. She wanted to react with wild abandon. It had been so long, and she had dreamed of this moment every night for four years; but she knew she must let Jake move at his own pace. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, allowing him his pleasure. His mouth came over her breast, and he groaned lightly, sucking at her hungrily as though to take nourishment.

He moved a hand under her gown, along her thigh, and she was glad she had deliberately left off her underwear. When his hand found her bare bottom, his need and passion seemed to intensify. His lips left her breast, and he whispered her name as he licked at her neck, met her mouth in a penetrating kiss, his tongue pushing deep while at the same time his fingers stroked between her bottom, moved to her love nest.

“God, Randy,” he groaned, leaving her mouth, trailing down to her breast again as he pushed up on her gown. “I need to touch you, taste you,” he whispered, moving his lips down to kiss at her belly. She gasped and shivered in ecstasy when he moved to taste and explore that most intimate part of her that she had given only to this man. Mack had never done this to her. He had never brought out such wanton boldness in her or made her want to give every inch of herself to him this way.

She cried out his name when he worked his magic, fed her neglected needs until her breath came in deep gasps, her climax almost painful from the sheer euphoria of the moment.

Quickly he was on top of her. She tasted her own sweetness on his lips as he explored her mouth again while he surged inside of her almost violently from his pent-up needs. His release was quick, coming in hard, surging pulses, but his kisses did not let up and his body did not relax. “Stay there, just stay there,” he groaned, kissing at her neck. “I'm sorry, Randy.” He kissed her eyes. “I wasn't very gentle. I want to be.”

“It's all right.” She returned his kisses with equal passion. “I don't want you to be gentle tonight,” she said softly. “The harder you take me, the better I know this is real, Jake.”

Already the life was returning. He began moving inside her again, pushing hard and deep. He rose up to his knees, grasping her hips and pulling her to him, moving in circular motions that made her feel alive and brazen and all woman again. She grasped his strong forearms, so thankful he had survived prison, the pneumonia, the awful beating. Now he had overcome the ugly accusations and was free. Free! Jake was free! There would be no more running and worrying. Her man was here in her bed, making love to her. Yes, he was older now. The strain of the past four years showed in his face, but he was still her handsome Jake, still strong and getting stronger. She knew that once he found Lloyd, if he could win back his son's love, he would be like a new man. For now there was no doubt he was still virile, still her Jake.

He came closer again, resting on his elbows, licking teasingly at her lips as again she felt his life surging into her. He kissed her eyes, and she reached up to stroke his hair, wet with perspiration now. She worried a little that he would overtire himself after the pneumonia, but she did not want to interrupt this very important moment. He could sleep tomorrow.

He lay down beside her, took her hand, and kissed the palm. “I don't think I'll sleep much tonight,” he said softly. “I just want to keep touching you, be inside you.”

“I need that just as much as you do, Jake.”

He moved on top of her again, studying her eyes intently. “Tell me true,” he whispered. “Tell me you never did this with Jess.”

She was surprised at the remark. Did he think she had lied to him while he was in prison just to save him the torture of visualizing her with Jess? Her eyes teared, and she touched his face. “Oh, Jake, you must know I couldn't have. No, my darling, I never did this with Jess. That's the God's truth. If I can't have you, I don't want anyone.”

She saw the tears in his eyes. “You don't know what it was like, lying in that cell day after day, week after week, knowing you had needs, thinking maybe…” He kissed her eyes. “I told you it was all right, and I meant it, but the torture of thinking it could really happen—”

“It
didn't
happen, Jake. You know I'm no liar. You'd know by my eyes if I wasn't telling the truth. There was one moment when Jess held me while I had a good cry. I let him kiss me, and for just a moment I thought how nice it would be to let a man hold me through the night.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “But I couldn't go through with it. He wasn't you.”

She watched the tears slip out of his eyes, realized more fully the agony he had suffered in that prison cell. “You know there is no man for me but you, Jake Harkner. Why do you think I've stuck by you through all of this when there were so many times it would have been easy just to walk away from it all? You are my life, my strength, my reason for being.”

He put a big hand to the side of her face. “It's the same for me. I just can't believe you're really here in my arms,
mi
querida
.” He met her mouth again, and there was no more to be said. By the time he was finished loving her, a hint of dawn light could be seen through a crack in the window curtains.

Jake rested beside Miranda, pulling her back against him. “I'll have to buy some new firearms before leaving St. Louis,” he told her in a sleepy voice. “I want the best before I go into outlaw country. I'd better practice some too. It's been a long time since I held a gun in my hands.”

“You'd better buy me a new rifle too,” she answered lazily. “I'm going with you, you know.”

“No, ma'am. I'll not take you into country like that, around men like that.”

“With you along, what could happen to me? And what if you get hurt, or what if Lloyd gets hurt? You wouldn't find a doctor for two hundred miles in any direction. I'd be the closest thing to a doctor you'd have. He's my son too, Jake Harkner, and I'm going to help you find him.”

“I said no.”

Miranda just smiled. “I'm going,” she said, settling closer against him. “I just got you back, and I am never,
ever
letting you out of my sight again. There will be no more arguing about it.”

She felt him sigh deeply. “Damn stubborn slip of a woman,” he muttered.

***

Miranda guided her roan mare along a canyon wall above the Green River. She led a shaggy, golden mare that carried their supplies, and Jake rode ahead of her on a buckskin gelding that closely resembled the now long-dead Outlaw. He had named the broad-chested, powerful three-year-old Bandit, and it had a black mane and black stockings just like Outlaw.

Miranda had traveled through the West and lived in it long enough not to be totally surprised by the scenery, yet this country was, to her memory, the most remote and desolate she had ever seen, except perhaps for the Nevada desert. It also carried a chilling beauty, a maze of buttes and mesas, of wide valleys dotted with green sage and bunchgrass. A rancher had headed them in this direction, where they would search through Brown's Park for any news of Lloyd.

This was big country, and sometimes Miranda worried they might get lost and never find their way out. It was no wonder outlaws liked it here. There were thousands of places to hide or take cover, caves, box canyons. Brown's Park was a forty-square-mile area that took in both northeast Utah and northwest Colorado. The Green River flowed through the middle of it, and the area was flanked by Diamond Mountain and Douglas Mountain, and a plateau called Owi-ya-kuts. According to the rancher, trappers used to gather here, men like Jim Bridger and Kit Carson. Infamous outlaws such as Butch Cassidy still roamed these areas.

Only the lawless who used these places knew them well. Jake had traveled these parts himself after he'd left Miranda in California, and the only reason he had asked directions from the rancher was because they were approaching Brown's Park from the east, a direction he had not used before.

It seemed with every day of travel Jake got healthier and stronger. The sun was already tanning him even darker, but he insisted Miranda wear gloves and long sleeves and a hat to protect her skin. She thought how good he looked on that big horse, how wonderful it had been to lie next to him under the stars, to make love by moonlight, to feel this newfound freedom.

To Miranda, it seemed they were lost in a maze of canyons and gorges and high plateaus, but she trusted Jake to find the way, and she was not afraid of trouble anyone might try to give them. Jake had bought the best in weapons, a Colt Frontier pistol for her protection, which she wore in a holster on her own hip. For himself he carried a new .45-caliber Frontier revolver that had a seven-and-a-half-inch barrel; a Colt Lightning magazine rifle that fired automatically without lever action; and a new sawed-off twelve-gauge shotgun.

The firearms had been purchased in St. Louis with a special purchase order given to Jake by Judge Mitchell to buy necessary firearms to suit his taste, to be used on his job as Deputy Marshal. The cost would be paid by the U.S. government, which suited Jake just fine. He had bought the best, figured he could use Miranda's snub-nosed pistol himself later. It was small enough to be hidden inside a jacket pocket or even a boot, but it packed a powerful punch.

It had been three weeks since they'd left St. Louis. During that time, both at Laramie and during their journey to reach the Outlaw Trail, Miranda had learned a lot about firearms. Jake had insisted she learn to shoot well before he brought her here, and she felt comfortable now using the snub-nosed pistol she wore. She had even practiced with the shotgun, but it still set her on her rump when she fired it.