Love’s Sweet Revenge(41)

Randy left reluctantly, glancing back at Jake once more.

“I’ll be along soon,” he assured her before turning to Lloyd. “Let’s be glad we got out of this one and get back to work.”

“Yeah.” Lloyd folded his arms. “You too old and tired now to finish out the day?”

Jake knew Lloyd was trying to lighten the mood. He rubbed at a sore shoulder. “Well, that’s a borderline truth, Son, but by God, all you did was cull out those calves. I’m the one who wrestled them down, so I’d be careful calling me old. How about we change places and you do the wrestling for a while?”

“Hell, I told you I’d do it, but you insisted on showing off how strong you still are, so if you’re hurting now, it’s not my fault.”

Jake gave him a shove. “Get the hell back to work.”

Lloyd grinned and walked off, putting big hands at the backs of Stephen and Ben’s necks and shoving them along with him.

With a heavy sigh, Jake headed back to the branding pen. Deep inside he, too, had thought he was going to be arrested. The day somebody tries to take me back to prison is the day I die!





Eleven


Randy brushed out her hair because Jake liked it down. She’d washed up and put on a flannel gown, anxiously waiting for her husband. She would never quite get over the memory of the day the soldiers came to arrest him, the brutal way they’d beat him. He’d given up running, deciding not to put her through any more of it. For the next four years she’d lived with the agony of knowing the terrible conditions under which he lived in prison, fearing he would die there. After his release, Jake’s job as a U.S. Marshal meant being gone weeks at a time, hunting men who would gladly kill him. Randy felt worn out from constantly worrying.

She went to the kitchen and retrieved yet another kettle of hot water, carrying it to the upstairs bedroom and pouring it into the large tin tub for his bath, wishing he’d get here soon. He was late. Why was he late? What was keeping him?

She returned to the kitchen to heat more water, then set bread out on the table and checked a pot of stew. Other than Ben, they never knew how many children would want to stay overnight with Grandma and Grandpa. Sometimes all the downstairs bedrooms were filled with kids, another irony for Jake. Randy loved it, loved children, and to this day she mourned not being able to have more after giving birth to Evie. But tonight…tonight all she could think about was Jake and the fear that the law had come for him. She wanted nothing more than to feel his arms around her. She supposed it was her constant fear of losing him that kept their lovemaking fresh and warm and needy. It was their way of proving to each other that they were together and alive and nothing could separate them. They weren’t just husband and wife, but friends and lovers.

Finally, she saw him walking toward the house from the bunkhouse. She couldn’t get over the fact that Cole and Pepper and some of the others had tried to take part of the blame for killing the rustlers. Now maybe Jake would understand what she meant about having good friends he could trust. When Jake reached the veranda, she noticed he didn’t look all dusty and sweaty. She went to the door and opened it, seeing in his eyes his regret over the incident with the marshals. He understood what that had done to her.

In the next moment she was in his arms. He held her off her feet and whirled her around, and she burst into tears. Jake kicked the door shut and kept her tight against him, kissing her hair.

“Jesus, Randy, ever since what happened out there, I’ve ached just to hold you. I saw the terror in your eyes. I just felt like after what the men did to back me up, I should stay and help a while longer.”

“It’s okay.” She breathed in his familiar scent, burying her face in his neck. “Jake, you took a bath at the bunkhouse?”

“I didn’t want to have to mess with all that when I got home. I knew I’d just want to hold you, and I didn’t want to be filthy when I did. That’s why I’m late.”

Only Jake would think like that. She couldn’t stop her tears. He picked her up in his arms and walked over to his big leather easy chair and sat down in it, keeping her on his lap.

“I hate it when you cry,” he told her. “Everything is fine, Randy. Please stop crying.”

“All I could see were those soldiers.”

“And all I could think about was that black eye that Lieutenant Gentry gave you back then.” He hugged her even tighter. “I’ve never wanted to kill a man as bad as I wanted to kill him that day!”

“Jake, I’m worried about that prosecutor.”

“Don’t give it another thought. I haven’t done anything wrong, and he knows it, or I’d already be in jail. I don’t intend to give him reason to put me there, either, so you just relax.”