Do Not Forsake Me(34)

Jake backed up and everyone in the street froze, not sure if the shooting was over. Jake holstered his guns, but when he turned to go to his still-screaming grandson, the man he’d shot off the roof moved to sit up, not dead yet. Jeff’s eyes widened when in a whisper of a second, Jake drew his gun and casually shot the man as he passed him by—no aim, no warning, and no true indication the man meant to shoot back. Just a boom, and the man swooned to the ground.

“Any others?” Jake shouted, turning in a circle. “Lloyd?”

“I think that’s all of them, Pa! Sparky is all right.”

Jake holstered his gun yet again, heading for the crate, blood flowing at an alarming rate from his right thigh. Evie also ran for the crate, Brian with her and already carrying his doctor’s bag. Jake reached the crate first and yanked Little Jake out of it, grabbing him close.

“Daddy, give him to me,” Evie asked, running up to her father.

Jake whirled. “What the hell was he doing out here!” he literally roared. “He could have been killed! Don’t ever let him slip out of the house like that again!”

Evie literally recoiled, stunned. Jeff had a feeling Jake had never raised his voice to his daughter that way. Randy was running up the street by then.

Jake leaned against a hitching post, clinging to Little Jake, who in turn hugged him around the neck, sobbing uncontrollably.

“It’s okay,” Jake soothed. Brian walked up and tried to get his son away, but Jake refused to let go. “Don’t anybody come near me or my grandson!” he ordered.

“Jake, you’re hurt,” Brian reminded him. “And that’s my son you’re holding. Give him to me before you end up hurting him yourself.”

Jake tried to walk away and began to stagger.

Lloyd handed his guns to Sheriff Sparks, because he wasn’t wearing his gun belt. “Hold these!” He ran over to his father. “Pa, you’re bleeding bad! Give me Little Jake before you fall on him!”

Jake whirled on him. “He could have been killed today, and it would have been my fault!”

“Pa, he’s fine, and not everything is your fault. Please give him to me. You’re about to pass out.”

Blood ran almost in a stream, soaking the right leg of Jake’s denim pants. “It’s just like with you,” Jake told Lloyd, “back in California. You were little like this.” His eyes actually teared. “I did everything I could to protect you…bullets flying everywhere…your mother…stabbed…” He started going down. Lloyd grabbed at Little Jake, but Jake still wouldn’t let go of him, and the boy kept clinging to his grandfather’s neck, still crying. Lloyd hung on to both of them as they went down, struggling to keep his father from falling on top of Little Jake. Even once he was down, Jake continued clinging to the boy.

“Brian, get over here!” Lloyd yelled. “He’s bleeding to death!”

Jeff also ran over to the site. “What can I do?”

Lloyd was trying to get Little Jake from his father’s grasp. “Take his guns!” he ordered Jeff.

Jeff could hardly believe his ears. “What?”

“Take his goddamn guns! He’s losing blood and it will affect his brain. He might think we’re outlaws trying to get Little Jake from him.” He wrestled for Little Jake. “Jesus Christ, how can a fifty-six-year-old man who’s lost half his blood still be this strong?” he growled.

Brian straddled Jake’s legs and sat on them, doing his best to press on the wound to stop the awful bleeding. “Somebody go get the blacksmith!” he shouted. “Anybody! Have him come over here with a hot iron!”

Lloyd struggled to pin Jake and the child in his arms to the ground. “Take his guns, damn it!” he ordered Jeff again.

Terrified, Jeff knelt down and yanked one gun from its holster and threw it aside, then managed to reach over and get hold of the other gun, scared to death one of them would go off and he’d accidentally kill someone. He jumped back, one gun still in his hand.

“Damn it, Pa, settle down before I punch you out!” Lloyd yelled. He finally managed to get Little Jake away. He handed him over to Evie, who was crying. By then, Randy reached them as Jake roared for Lloyd to give Little Jake back to him. He swung at Lloyd, slamming his jaw but weak enough to do no real damage.

“Pa, you’re going to bleed to death if you don’t settle down and let Brian look at that wound!” He literally laid across Jake’s chest then, his own lower lip bleeding from Jake’s blow. It clearly took every ounce of strength he had to keep the man down. “Lie still, you sonofabitch! Don’t make me hurt you!”