She curled deeper into the blankets. “Jake?”
Tears of relief filled his eyes. “It’s Lloyd.”
“I want Jake.”
Lloyd struggled not to break down. “He’s outside. He’s coming.” He touched her shoulder, but she jerked away.
“I’m so cold,” she whimpered.
Lloyd could see her shivering under the blankets. He removed his smoked-up deerskin coat and laid it over her. “Just hang on. Jake’s coming.” He leaned closer, noticing one of her wrists was tied to a rung of the iron headboard. “Jesus,” he muttered. He quickly untied it. “I’ll send Brian in.”
“No! I want…Jake. Just Jake.”
“He’ll be right here. He’s okay. Everybody’s okay.” Lloyd walked to the doorway. “Pa, she’s alive. She wants just you.”
Jake stood with a booted foot planted against Brad Buckley’s bleeding privates, his gun pointed at the young man’s head. “That means you get to die fast, Buckley! But not without pain!” He shouted to Vance, who was still inside the cabin. “Get those hot coals out here! This man likes shoving his shit into helpless peoples’ mouths, so I’ll shove something unwanted into his mouth!”
“Noooooo!” Brad screamed. “Just shoot me!”
“Too easy for someone who would do to my wife what you did! I always knew this time would come, Brad Buckley! I should have killed you in Guthrie when I had the chance!”
Inside the cabin, Vance tried to ignore the shivering little mound of woman under the covers as he searched for something with which to grab a hot coal, per Jake’s orders. He found some fireplace tongs and used them to take a glowing piece of wood from a fire that still burned in the stone fireplace. He turned, then froze in place when he saw Randy actually sitting up on the edge of the bed and holding a blanket over herself. Her face was bruised almost beyond recognition, her hair hanging in filthy strings.
“Is Brad Buckley still alive?” she asked in a raspy voice.
Vance swallowed. “Yes, ma’am, but I expect he’s bleedin’ to death.”
“Good.” Randy managed to stand up. “Give me your gun.”
“Ma’am?”
“Give me your gun!”
“Ma’am, I don’t think—”
Randy walked up and jerked his gun from its holster. Vance didn’t know what he should do. She looked like a crazy woman at the moment, and she was Jake Harkner’s wife. If he tried to stop her from whatever she intended to do, he might hurt her. He stood there still holding tongs with the burning wood in them as Randy marched to the front door. “My God!” he muttered, turning away when the blanket fell away and exposed her backside.
Outside, Brad was sobbing. “They’ll…hang you, Jake Harkner! You’d…better think about that!” He struggled to get away, but to no avail. Jake stepped harder on his privates.
“No matter,” Jake answered, leaning closer. “Hearing you scream and watching you die slowly will be worth it!”
Cole and Rodriguez held Brad’s arms down, and Terrel and Lloyd surrounded him and Jake.
“Hurry it up with those hot coals!” Jake yelled at Vance again.
“Oh my God!” Cole suddenly yelled, staring toward the cabin.
They all turned, shocked to see Randy walking toward them, holding a blanket over herself with one hand and a gun in the other. She marched up and shot Brad Buckley in the heart, then pointed the gun at his face and fired again, the bullet shattering his teeth and jaw. She just stood there for a moment, then dropped the gun and looked at Jake.
“Now no one can say you killed Brad Buckley, so they can’t take you away from me.”
She started to slump, and Lloyd caught her. Jake quickly holstered his .44 and grabbed her up into his arms. He carried her into the cabin and kicked the door shut.
The rest of the men turned to stare at Brad Buckley, his privates a bloody mess, a hole in his chest, and most of his jaw missing.
“Holy shit,” Cole exclaimed.
Lloyd closed his eyes and turned away.
Stephen looked at Little Jake. “Grandma shot Brad Buckley!”
Little Jake made a fist. “I’m glad!”
Forty
Jake struggled not to fall apart. The woman who’d shot Brad Buckley didn’t even resemble his wife. She’d looked like a madwoman who’d come back from the dead for revenge. The minute he picked her up in his arms, she’d fallen to pieces emotionally, breaking into pitiful sobs that ripped his heart out.
Don’t think about your mother and watching her die. Don’t think about Evie and how you found her. Don’t think about your father! Don’t think about going crazy if you lose this woman! He had to stay sane. His wife needed him in a way she’d never needed him before.