Foreword
Love’s Sweet Revenge is the continuing saga of outlaw Jake Harkner, a ruthless man who walks on the edge of darkness, and the woman (Miranda) who taught him his true worth—and the meaning of love. For those who might not have read the first two books in this series, following is a short review of what has brought Jake and his family to events in this third book.
Book one, Outlaw Hearts, brings Jake out of his lost and lonely world into one of hope when, as a young wanted man with a brutal past, he meets the woman who completely changes his life. The story covers twenty-six years of Jake and Randy’s struggle for peace and a normal life together as they raise a son and a daughter. Book two, Do Not Forsake Me, finds Jake living the dangerous life of a U.S. Marshal in “No Man’s Land”—Oklahoma. Through both books, Jake and Randy’s incredibly strong relationship spawns a solid and fiercely loyal family that will capture your heart and whose story of devotion and faith holds them together through the challenges that confront them because of Jake’s outlaw past.
Love’s Sweet Revenge finds Jake and his growing family finally settled into ranch life in the spectacular foothills of the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, but Jake’s past reputation and his famous Colt .44s lead to a devastating shooting that takes Jake right back into the darkness that always threatens to consume him. This book is a gritty, hard-hitting story that brings to life the “real” American West and tells an unforgettable love story.
Part One
One
April 1896
Jake leaned against a rough-hewn support post on the sagging front porch of a line shack, taking in the magnificent scenery before him. It was so quiet this morning that even striking a match seemed loud. He lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply.
Since leaving a lawless Oklahoma Territory and his job as a U.S. Marshal, he still couldn’t quite get over the fact that he shared a fifty-thousand-acre cattle ranch here in Colorado with his son. It took that much land and more to support enough cattle for a man to make a living, and the J&L had grown fast. Thank God Lloyd was finally fulfilling his own dream instead of riding with him in the dangerous job of hunting down criminals and murderers in No Man’s Land. Oklahoma and the devastating events there were behind them now.
He shivered a little, wearing only his long johns against the chilly morning. He slowly exhaled, watching the cigarette smoke drift lazily into the yellow-blue sky. Behind him the purple, snowcapped Rocky Mountains rose like bastions of the West, and before him the foothills sloped downward to sparkling Horse Creek, which ran right through the middle of a vast green valley. They called it Evie’s Garden, after Jake’s beloved daughter. And far across that valley, he could see dark slopes of pine mixed with the white trunks of aspen, all spilling from purple heights like a waterfall. To the south end of the ranch lay a spectacular bowl of grass called Fire Valley because of how the sun could oftentimes light up the yellow grass.
Lloyd had bought most of this land from a widowed rancher’s wife who could no longer take care of it. He’d added several thousand more acres by procuring adjacent government land in a special sale. With money inherited from his first wife, Lloyd paid the greater share for the J&L, and that was fine with Jake, because it would all be Lloyd’s someday anyway. Jake was happy for him—damn happy. Lloyd was a loyal and steadfast son who’d given up too much for his father. He deserved happiness and success.
A few horses grazed in the valley below, mingled with some Durhams and a couple of Herefords. Both were meaty stock, and as the herd grew every year, so did profits. If Lloyd could manage to buy some government land to the south, where an abandoned fort now stood, the J&L would grow by another ten thousand acres.
He watched the valley begin to light up from the rising eastern sun, and a tiny lark landed on a thin branch that didn’t look strong enough to hold even one feather. It tweeted sweetly, greeting the morning. Jake still had trouble trusting the peace and quiet he’d known here. At sixty years old, he was bone weary, and some days he hurt everywhere. Years of horrible abuse as a child, followed by an outlaw’s life on the run that led to prison, and then the rugged life of a U.S. Marshal had taken a toll on his bullet-scarred body, let alone the inner scars and the brand of having murdered his own father.
Inside this dilapidated little line shack lay the woman who was responsible for pretty much one hundred percent of the peace he enjoyed now—the woman who’d taught him it was possible to forgive, both himself and others, the woman who’d taught him the meaning of love and who’d dragged him from the pits of hell to a new world, where a man could enjoy family, and hope.