Do Not Forsake Me(94)

Jake walked over and uncorked the whiskey again. “No.”

“Pa, you know you have to eat. And please don’t drink, especially not on an empty stomach. You know damn well that whiskey won’t end the pain in your gut, and you know it would kill Mom to know you uncorked that shit.”

Jake took another swallow. “She doesn’t need to know.”

“She damn well will know, because I’ll tell her myself. She’ll be worried and hurt. Is that what you want?”

“What I want is to get drunk.”

“You said earlier you wouldn’t, and you know damn well why…but if that’s what you want, go ahead. When you get like this, I don’t give a rat’s ass what you do. Go ahead and behave like your father.”

Lloyd instantly regretted the remark. Jake took one last swallow and then corked the bottle, giving Lloyd a look that told him he was lucky he was Jake’s son and not a stranger.

“You don’t know shit about my father.”

“Don’t I? I know enough that I don’t want you to be like him—that’s what I know.” Lloyd moved to the fire and spooned some beans onto a plate, handing it to Jeff as Jeff walked back to his bedroll. Then Lloyd threw a gunnysack at Jeff. “Grab yourself a biscuit. We’ll both eat while we watch my father drink till he turns into a complete asshole.”

Jake uncorked the whiskey and took one more swallow as he watched Lloyd spoon himself a plate of beans. Jeff handed back the bag of biscuits, glancing nervously at Jake. Lloyd took a biscuit from the bag and sat down. He glanced at Jake, and Jake saw the hurt and worry in his eyes.

Jake shoved the whiskey back into his saddlebag, then turned to gaze at the fire. “Damn it, Lloyd, if you’re going to pout like a spoiled kid who didn’t get what he wanted for Christmas, then go ahead and fix me a plate.”

Lloyd watched him closely for a moment, then prepared a plate of beans and handed that and a biscuit to Jake. “She’ll be okay, Pa.”

Jake took the plate. “You didn’t see how much pain she was in last night. In all our married life, I’ve never seen her in that kind of pain. To me that means cancer. I’ve seen it, Lloyd, on a personal level—a prostitute I was living with before I met your mother.”

“Cancer doesn’t mean it can’t be fixed, Pa. And Beth…I mean, when she had her time of the month, she used to be in almost that much pain. A lot of things can go on inside a woman to cause pain like that, so it might just be something else, just like Brian said. Now eat.”

Jake poked at the beans with his fork, wanting nothing more than to go back to Guthrie and scoop his wife into his arms and tell her everything was all right. That’s the one thing I miss the most when you’re gone, Jake—these arms around me. I feel so safe when you’re holding me.

They’re around you, Randy, even when I’m not here, he thought. His gut tightened and it was all he could do to eat even half the beans. “Eat up and get some rest, Jeff,” he said aloud. “Tomorrow we’ll pay a visit to the Buckleys.”

Jeff set his plate down, glancing at Lloyd.

“You heard the man,” Lloyd told him.

Jeff tried to joke. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

“You’ll be all right,” Jake assured him. He ate a few more bites and forced himself to swallow the biscuit, then he set the plate aside. “I can’t finish.”

Lloyd sighed. “I guess some is better than none. I’m glad you put that whiskey back. Jesus, Pa, sometimes I feel like the father.”

Jake lay back against his saddle and lit another cigarette. “Maybe sometimes that’s what I’m looking for. Trying to be a good father to you sometimes made me feel like it was happening the other way around, if that makes any sense. It felt…good. Like with your mother—she’d shake the knots out of me and keep my ass on the straight and narrow, and I let her because it felt good to have somebody care if I was doing things right.”

Lloyd took his plate. “Yeah, well, someday you’re going to wake up and realize how many people do care.”

Jeff quickly dug out his writing pad and took some notes. There is a vulnerable side to Jake Harkner nobody knows about. It’s his wife and kids who bring it out. He skipped a line to make a different note. Tomorrow we will visit the Buckley family. I am scared to death. He put down his tablet and picked up his plate of beans. “Jake?”

“What?”

“Thanks for not making fun of my ineptitude with guns.”

“Why would I make fun of it? There was a time when even I didn’t know how to use guns.” He smoked quietly again for a moment. “I’ll tell you something, Jeff. Later I’ll tell you all of it, but for now suffice it to say that the first time I ever used a gun was…on my own father. That was the very first time. And in a way, every man I’ve shot since then was him. In my mind, I’ve killed him over and over…and over.”