Jake’s eyes grew even darker. “Friend?”
“I think Mike called him Brad.”
Jake turned away. “Jesus!”
“You know who he is?”
“I killed his father and two brothers back in Oklahoma when I was a marshal there. And I beat the hell out of Brad Buckley and left him in a bad way. If he’s teamed up with Mike Holt—” He shook his head. “My God, that was four years ago. I figured we were done with all that.” He faced Gretta. “I’m more worried about my daughter than anyone else. It’s taken her all this time to totally recover from what happened to her…and I’m not sure she really has. Her only saving grace is her deep faith and a very good and very kind and understanding husband.”
Gretta took his hand. “I hate having had to tell you all this.”
“You did right.” To Gretta’s amazement, Jake pulled her close and put his arms around her. “I’m just sorry for what he did to you,” he told her. “I should have killed that bastard when I had the chance, but my daughter—who thinks I walk on water—begged me not to go back to my old ways, so I let him live. That was a mistake.”
“Well, it got me into the arms of Jake Harkner. I don’t mind that at all.”
Jake gave her a squeeze before letting go. “Yeah, well, now I have to figure out how to go to my wife later and pretend I’m not upset. After what we’ve just been through, she needs a break from worry, and I want her to enjoy herself tomorrow night at that ball.”
“Then let’s go buy that ring. Nothing softens up a woman like diamonds.” She looked him over with a grin. “Although I have a feeling you don’t need diamonds to soften a woman up. All you have to do is smile at her.”
Jake managed a soft grin. “Yeah, after thirty years, she knows me all too well. Just a smile won’t do it.” Jake led her through the curtained doorway. “Come on. I have a feeling you know a lot about diamonds.”
“You bet I do.” Gretta paused. “Are you sure you want to be seen walking with me?”
Jake led her out. “Gretta, I long ago stopped worrying about what people think of me, and it’s too late to try to change their opinions.” He glanced at Henry. “Package up that suit, Henry, and I’ll be back for it.” He walked over and plunked the leather satchel with his other belongings in it on the counter. “Watch this till I get back.” He took Gretta’s arm and headed out. “I also need to find a florist and a garden supply,” he told her on the way through the door.
Henry just shook his head. He couldn’t wait to tell others he’d met the infamous Jake Harkner, and that the man had walked out of his store with Denver’s most notorious harlot—after spending time with her alone in the dressing room and changing his clothes right in front of her!
Seventeen
Randy heard the tap on the door.
“Randy, it’s me.”
Her heart pounded with both relief and irritation. She pulled her robe close around her and tied it, then went to the door. “I’m tempted to leave you out there in the hallway,” she called.
“I don’t blame you. Come on, baby, let me in.”
Baby. Randy closed her eyes and sighed with frustration. He knew the use of that word undid her. She unlocked the door, stepping aside as he walked in, his arms full with his personal leather bag, something wrapped in brown paper, and one hand wrapped around the paper-covered stems of a dozen yellow roses. It was already dark out, and by the soft light of two gas lamps, he looked strikingly handsome, filling up the room with his tall frame. “Well, you certainly look better than you did this morning,” she told him, “and you apparently found a bathhouse.”
“And a shave and a haircut, and I bought a new suit of clothes for tomorrow night.” He set aside his leather bag and the package of new clothes, then handed out the roses. “Your favorite color. And I found a place where we can buy all the rosebushes you want to take back to the ranch. For now, here are these. Happy anniversary.”
Every last bit of determination Randy had of staying upset with him vanished. She reached out and took the roses, smelling them. “Jake, they’re beautiful!”
“Tomorrow, I want you to buy yourself the fanciest dress in town, as long as it’s yellow, and get your hair done up. I’ll be taking the most beautiful woman in Denver to the Cattlemen’s Ball.”
She looked him over, trying not to cry. She turned and set the roses in a pitcher on the washstand. “Well…I already bought a dress, but I’m not so sure I want to go. After taking all this time to get to our room, you just come walking in as though nothing has happened, and you hand me yellow roses and pretend everything is just fine.”