“Rustlers is the word. They were cattle thieves. And you’re right, it was over a month ago.”
Evie clung to Brian’s arm. “Brian, it’s just like when soldiers came to take him to prison all those years ago,” she whispered.
Brian moved an arm around her. “This is different, love. You stay calm.”
“I reckon you had the right to take those men down, Jake,” Hal told him, “seeing as how they were on your land and rustling your cattle. But there were seven of them, and none of them lived. That sounds like the work of Jake Harkner—maybe even alone. Was that necessary?”
“They was shootin’ at him and the missus,” Cole Decker spoke up before Jake could answer. “Jake had his wife with him. We came on the scene just minutes after they pinned Jake down. All of us was in on it. There ain’t no way to say which one of us killed which man, so don’t go pinnin’ all of it on Jake here. He was defendin’ his wife.”
Randy felt a lump rise in her throat. Cole was trying to take the blame off of Jake.
“That true?” Kraemer asked Jake.
Jake turned to look around at his men, and they just nodded to him. He looked back at Kraemer. “Something like that.”
“Pa did what he had to do,” Lloyd spoke up. “My mother was with him!”
Kraemer studied Lloyd and quietly nodded. “I can understand that.” He turned his attention to Jake again. “Thing is, no matter what these men say, Jake, the whole thing sounds more like something you would do—shoot to kill.”
“They were doing the same,” Jake told him, taking a cigarette from his shirt pocket. “My men came along and finished what I started. And if those men hadn’t died from our bullets, they would have died with a noose around their necks, and you know it, Hal.” He lit his cigarette.
Hal nodded. “The thing is, Jake, if they’d died with nooses around their necks, it would have been because the law made it so. In case you haven’t noticed, there is a difference between obeying the law and taking the law into your own hands.”
Jake took a deep drag on his cigarette, and Randy watched, wondering where her next breath would come from.
“And there is a difference between taking the law into your own hands and just plain defending yourself and someone you love,” Jake told Kraemer. “That’s all I did, and these men here can attest to that.”
“And if we went out there and dug up their bodies, I’m betting the bullets in them all came from Colt .44s,” Kraemer answered, “with ivory handles and triggers so touchy that just a cough could set them off. Usually when there is a shoot-out, at least one man lives to tell about it…unless it was Jake Harkner doing the shooting.” He glanced at Lloyd again. “And I hear you can be just as ruthless and just as accurate.”
“If someone is threatening what’s mine? Sure I can.”
“Nobody is digging up any bodies,” Jake said flatly, taking Kraemer’s attention off of Lloyd. “There sure as hell isn’t much left of them by now anyway. The fact remains they came onto J&L land. They rustled up some of our cattle and were headed to Denver with them. As soon as I spotted them, I hurried my wife behind some rocks, because they’d seen us and were headed our way. They had us pinned down. I got a couple of them, and then Lloyd and some of my men here came along. None of us worried about aiming for places that didn’t kill. They all died, and that’s that. My wife even said a prayer over their graves, so they were properly buried, and we took their identifications and personal belongings to Denver to report the incident just like the law says we have to do. Nobody did anything wrong, so why in hell are you here? And why did you bring so many extra men?”
Hal grinned. “Well, Jake, it’s like I said. When I’m coming out to talk to a Harkner on Harkner land and surrounded by Harkner men, I figure I might need some backup.” He tipped his hat. “But I didn’t come here to arrest you, Jake. I only came to warn you.”
“About what?” Lloyd spoke up before Jake could. “We just told you Pa didn’t do anything wrong. Now get off our land!”
“Lloyd, let him speak,” Jake told him. “It might be important.”
“It is important, Jake,” Hal told him. “Seems as though one of those men you killed was the nephew of a Denver prosecutor, Harley Wicks. It’s true the boy was a no-good and always in trouble, but the fact remains that Wicks would like nothing better than to nail you for this. His sister, who is one of those high-society snobs in Denver, ordered him to have you arrested. But seeing as how you are who you are, and you’re pretty damn famous, and, well, you really didn’t do anything wrong that they can legally pin on you, Wicks couldn’t bring any charges. That’s what took so long coming out here. He tried every which way to find something to pin you with, but he couldn’t. I’m just warning you to look out for yourself, Jake. One wrong move, and Wicks will gladly oblige his sister’s wishes that you go back to prison or be hung.”