“Pa, it’s just me, and the door is unlocked. Just want you to know I’m coming in.”
Jake kept the gun in his hand as Lloyd came inside.
“Why is the door unlocked?”
“Your mother left to go see Peter about a meeting tomorrow. I didn’t bother hobbling over there to lock the door.” Jake noticed a deep concern in his son’s eyes. “What’s wrong?”
Lloyd was wearing his guns and looked ready to shoot something. “Sparky brought over a telegram. Marty Bryant escaped.”
Jake sat up straighter. “How?”
“They aren’t sure. It just says the prison wagon was found between Edmond and Oklahoma City—Marshal Dexter Lace and the driver are both dead, along with the guard. Even the three other prisoners in the wagon with Marty were killed. From the tracks they left, it looks like a lot of men were involved.”
Jake closed his eyes. “Shit! I knew something was wrong. I felt it. And Dexter Lace was a good man—a good friend and damn good with a gun.”
“It could have been us, Pa. And if enough men came along to shoot up all those men and get Marty out of there, you can bet they have more planned. And we can’t count on help right now. Those lawmen who could have helped are off on another pursuit of the Daltons. With Dexter dead, it’s just you and me.”
Jake reached out and asked Lloyd to help him get up. He grimaced as he rose. “Were any instructions wired to us?”
“Just the obvious—track down Marty Bryant, which I’m sure you already plan to do. Their tracks led on south.” He looked his father over. “I can see you’re still in pain. You shouldn’t be standing, Pa.”
“I’m fine!” Jake barked. “And tracks leading south are a decoy. They’ll come back this way because they want us—you and me.”
Lloyd nodded. “What should we do?”
“Sit tight for now. It’s obvious Hash Bryant has rounded up some men and had them go break Marty loose. Maybe it was even Dell who planned it. The kid has been wanting to prove his manhood for a long time now. And that damn prison wagon being late gave him or Hash time to plan this. We have to figure out what they’re up to next. I can’t go out on the trail yet, but I’ll damn well get out there soon! And don’t you think about going alone! That’s an order!”
He limped over to a window and looked out.
“Right now you go catch up with Jeff and your mother. She’s at Peter’s office by now. You walk her and Jeff back here. Jeff is no match for Marty Bryant if the man is actually around here. Get going, and try not to alarm Katie too much when you get home.”
“What should I tell Mom?”
“The truth, I guess. There’s no hiding it from her. I damn well hate burdening her with this.” He limped back to the sofa. “Damn it all!”
“I don’t like leaving you here alone, Pa.”
“Me? Do you realize who you’re talking to? Go get my cartridge belt. I just have a couple of screws to tighten, and these guns will be in full working order. You go make sure your mother is safe.”
Lloyd nodded and hurried into the kitchen, grabbing a cartridge belt and tossing it onto the end of the sofa. “I’ll be back soon.”
He left, and Jake felt ready to explode. He picked up a clean ashtray from the side table and threw it against the stone fireplace, smashing it to pieces.
Sixteen
Randy returned with Brian, Lloyd, and Jeff to find Jake loading cartridges into his gun belt. Randy knew what the look in his eyes meant. She glanced at the scattered pieces of glass around the stone fireplace. “Jake, you can’t leave yet,” she said, quickly removing her shawl.
“Can’t I?”
“No,” Brian answered for her.
“Pa, you don’t even know yet what’s going on,” Lloyd reminded him. “We already talked about this. Waiting another eight or ten days won’t matter, and you’ll be a lot healthier. Besides, you wanted Brian to talk to Mom about the pains she’s been having.”
Jake threw the gun belt to the floor and stood up to pace with a prominent limp. “We should have killed Marty Bryant when we had the chance!”
“This isn’t the old days, Pa. You can’t just shoot somebody because you want them dead.”
Jake looked at him darkly. “If that man harms one hair on the head of one person in this family, I’ll damn well kill him even if it means going back to prison! And he won’t die easy, because I’ll shoot every joint in his body first!”
“Jake, if you mess up that leg again, it will just cost you time going after him,” Brian reminded him. “Do you want to be out there within two weeks, or three or four weeks?”