Outlaw Hearts (62 page)
Authors: Rosanne Bittner
Brad continued to harass Jake. “Harkner, you can't throw my pa down like so much garbage! I'll kill you for that!”
The crowd quieted. People backed even farther away. Jeff glanced at Miranda Harkner and saw the worry in her eyes. How many times had she been through something like this?
“You want me to arrest that smart-ass kid, Jake?” Sheriff Sparks asked him.
Harkner watched Brad a moment. “No. Just get those three prisoners into the jail. Brian will be here soon to take a look at their injuries.”
Sparks sighed. “If you say so.”
“Juan, come take these horses over to Tobe's,” the marshal ordered, and the old man eagerly obeyed. He led all five horses away, and Sheriff Sparks herded the three prisoners into the jailhouse, nudging them with his shotgun. Jeff's heart pounded with anticipation as Harkner, still carrying a repeating rifle, walked closer to the angry young man on the boardwalk.
“Your pa robbed a bank and killed two men,” he announced loudly enough for all to hear. “Then he took refuge with some innocent ranchers, and he and his men defiled their fifteen-year-old daughter. Did you expect me to feel sorry for him? I threw your father down like a piece of garbage because that's what he
is
.”
Brad's eyes spit fire. “Anything my pa did ain't no different from things you've done
yourself
,” the young man sneered, “including defilin' women. Somebody should have shot you dead a long time ago, Harkner, and I aim to do it
today
!”
People mumbled.
“Sweet Jesus,” a man near Jeff muttered. “You stupid ass. You lookin' to die?”
Jeff shot the man a glance and happened to spot a very nice-looking young man with a doctor's bag standing near the marshal's wife. He put an arm around her.
The son-in-law
. Harkner's wife didn't take her eyes off of her husband for one second as he stepped even closer to the much younger and very stocky man who had challenged him.
“Your father already tried shooting it out with me,” the marshal told his accuser. “You can see how that turned out.”
The two men behind Brad backed away.
“You'd better back off, Brad,” one of them told his friend.
“Your friends are talking sense,” Harkner told him. “Fact is, I'd suggest all three of you lift your guns and drop them. Sheriff Sparks can hold them for you until you cool off.”
One of them obeyed. “I don't want no part of this,” he muttered as he unbuckled his gun belt and let it drop. He hurried around behind Brad and jumped off the boardwalk.
Jeff watched, spellbound. He'd never expected to see Jake Harkner in action today.
“I'm really not in the mood for this, Brad,” Harkner told the young man. He threw down his cigarette and stepped it out. “You're young, and you don't want to die yetâand I don't want to be the one responsibleâso why don't you hand over that gun and go home?”
“You don't scare me, Harkner.”
Jeff couldn't imagine why any man would want to challenge Jake Harkner this way. In fact, the second man behind Brad also backed away, putting his hands in the air. “Leave me out of this,” he told Jake. He turned and ran back into the saloon, leaving Brad standing there alone, sweat stains on his shirt.
The marshal stepped even closer, still holding his rifle in one hand. “Last warning, Brad. I'm goddamn tired and don't want any of this. Be on your way.”
“You worried, Harkner? Age catchin' up with you?”
The air hung silent. “You don't want to find out,” Harkner answered. “And I really don't want to kill you. You're no older than my own son.”
“Yeah? I'll bet he loves his pa like I loved mine! That's where we're both different from you, ain't we, Harkner? We
loved
our fathers!”
Miranda Harkner gasped. “Oh my God,” she said softly.
No one expected what happened next.
In one quick movement that gave Brad no time to react, Harkner slammed the butt of his rifle into the younger man's chest with a violent punch that sent the kid flying backward. He landed against a stack of barrels, which crashed and rolled over the boardwalk and into the street. The marshal kicked more barrels aside and slammed the rifle butt across the side of Brad's head. In a flash, he swung his rifle around and pressed the barrel against Brad's forehead.
“Don't do it, Jake!” Jeff heard Miranda Harkner say softly.
Jeff was sure Jake would pull the trigger right then and there and blow the young man's brains all over the boardwalk. The stunning attack had been so quick and vicious that Jeff felt a sudden need to urinate in his fear.
“You're goddamn lucky we're in town and I have to abide by the law, kid!” Harkner growled. He moved the rifle aside and fired it into the boardwalk, right beside Brad's ear.
Everyone jumped at the gunshot, and a couple of women screamed and ran into a store. Harkner reached down with his free hand and grasped the younger man by the shirtfront. He jerked him up and slammed him against the remaining barrels, sending more of them flying. “Thank your God you're still alive, kid!”
Brad stood there shaking and sweating. He opened his mouth, and Jeff realized the young man couldn't breathe. The blow to his chest had probably knocked the air out of him.
“Take his gun, Sparky,” Harkner ordered the sheriff, seemingly unaffected as Brad's face started going white with the struggle for air. A huge split in the skin at the right side of his face bled profusely, and the whole side of his head was already turning purple.
The sheriff ran up and took Brad's gun from its holster. Still using only one arm, Harkner threw Brad violently off the boardwalk and into the street. “When he can breathe again, somebody help him up and take him over to the jail,” he ordered.
Brad rolled over with an ugly gurgling sound. He held one hand to the ear that had taken the brunt of the rifle shot, blood dripping into the dirt from the gash at the side of his face. Harkner glanced up then, his dark eyes boring into Jeff's. Jeff stood there frozen in place as the man stalked closer.
“You've been watching me. Who the hell are you and what do you want?”
Jeff swallowed. “Iâ¦my name is Jeff Trubridge, and I'mâ¦I'm a reporterâ¦from Chicago. I didn't mean any harm.” He held out his arms, his small pad of paper in one hand and a pencil in the other. “I don't even own or know how to use a gun.”
Harkner glanced over at Brad, who was now crying as he got to his feet with the sheriff's help, then crumpled to his knees again. The marshal turned back to Jeff. “I'm not in a very good mood right now, Trubridge, so whatever you want, it will have to wait a couple of days.”
“Butâ”
“
Monday!
” Harkner growled. “Tomorrow my wife goes to church, and I need some time with my family.”
“Yes, sir.” Jeff was glad to realize the man actually meant to hear him out. He felt a now-painful need to urinate as he watched the marshal walk away. His wife approached him with a devastated look on her face. Jeff could see the love there and realized her concern was over how Brad's remark about fathers might have hurt her husband. Jeff started after him, but the young man with the doctor's bag put out his arm.
“Leave him alone,” he warned. “This isn't a good time. Surely you can see that.”
Jeff faced the sandy-haired and very handsome young man of medium but sturdy build. The doctor's blue eyes showed deep concern and something else. Love? For his father-in-law? Jeff found all of it hard to believeâhis wife's loving concern, the doctor's, the friendly manner in which Sparky and the Mexican spoke with Jake Harkner⦠“Are you Jake Harkner's son-in-law?”
“Dr. Brian Stewart, and I have some prisoners to tend to. I want your promise to stay away from my father-in-law the rest of today, though. The man has been on the trail for over three weeks, and I suspect he's damn tired. Combined with what just happened, that isn't a good mix for a man like Jake.”
Jeff watched Jake and his wife walk up the street. “Will his wife be okay?”
“What?” Brian looked at him as if he were crazy.
“Well, Jake Harkner is in one hell of a bad mood. Is she safe?”
Brian grinned and shook his head. “Mister, I don't know everything you've heard about the man, but Jake would slit his own throat before he'd raise his hand or even his voice to that woman. She'll be just fine. Times like this, she's the only one who can calm him down. That woman has my father-in-law wrapped around her little finger so tight, he couldn't cut himself away with a bowie knife.”
It struck Jeff again how badly he needed to urinate. “I, uh, I need to find a privy.”
Brian chuckled. “Yeah, Jake does that to a man sometimes.” He nodded toward a building across the street. “There's a privy over there behind that store.”
Jeff nodded, embarrassed. “Thanks.” He hurried away, stepping around barrels that still lay in the street and thinking how there was nothing old or soft or weak about Marshal Jake Harkner. He was every bit the notorious, hardened ex-outlaw he'd expected. He had to urinate so badly that he unbuttoned his pants as he half ran to the privy, and he'd barely made it inside before his bladder let loose, spilling out pent-up anxiety and fear along with urine.
He wondered if any man had literally wet his pants when faced down by Jake Harkner.
Order Rosanne Bittner's next book
in the Outlaw Hearts series
Do Not Forsake Me
On sale July 2015
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Paradise Valley
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USA Today
Bestselling Author
***
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***
“One of the most powerful voices in Western romance returns with a gritty, earthy, moving love story that captures the true spirit of the West. Bittner sweeps readers away with a powerful tale.” â
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For more Rosanne Bittner, visit:
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