Their eyes held, and in spite of the honesty in his own, Miranda told herself she was crazy to believe him. “God, Mr. Harkner? Do you really believe in a God?”
He winced with pain as he unsteadily walked to the bed. “Oh, I believe in him. I just…don’t happen to believe he…gives a damn about me. I expect…he long ago gave directions to make sure…I go straight to hell once I die.” He grunted as he managed to lie back down, his feet again sticking out the end of the bed. “Not that most of my life…right here on earth hasn’t been hell already.”
Miranda spread another blanket over him. “You said some things last night when you were in pain that make me wonder about you, Mr. Harkner. I guess curiosity is part of the reason I’m not ready to turn you over to the law.”
She opened a second blanket and spread that over the first. “Curiosity?” Jake put a hand to his aching head. “About what?”
She folded her arms and stepped back. “Who is Santana?” Miranda almost regretted the question when she saw the pain that came into his eyes. “You said her name last night, more than once.”
Jake closed his eyes. “She’s just someone I knew once.”
“I think maybe you loved her.”
“And I think maybe it’s none of your business.”
“While you are here under my care, and considering your reputation and the fact that I have not turned you over to Sheriff McCleave, everything about you is my business.”
“Then go ahead and get the sheriff,” he grumbled, rubbing at his eyes. “My private life is my private life.”
“Is she one of the women you tried to help once?”
“What the hell do you care!” Jake gave her the fiercest look he could muster. He hated personal questions.
Miranda stepped a little closer. “Because of the way you spoke her name. I didn’t think you were a man capable of deep feelings, Mr. Harkner, but last night I saw a side of you I’m sure few people see. I guess that’s the main reason I’m not sure I want to turn you in.” Did this man really kill his father? “You also spoke the word Pa, but I couldn’t determine if it was with hatred or affection.”
Miranda watched his eyes. Again she saw the look of a little boy. “There are some people you can love and hate at the same time.”
“Is it true you killed your own father?”
Jake just stared at her, looking surprised at first, then taking on a look of almost pitiful remorse. “Jesus, you’ve even heard that already?” He closed his eyes. “It’s a long story,” he said quietly, “and none of your damn business. If others say I killed him, then I killed him. Who the hell is going to believe my side of anything? And who the hell cares about what might have made me do it? Folks don’t want to hear reasons. They’re quick to judge without knowing the facts.”
Miranda bent over and picked up the soiled blankets. “Maybe you just hang around with the wrong people, Mr. Harkner. I’ve never thought any man should be judged by other people’s gossip. And I saw a side to you last night that tells me there are things buried inside of you that need digging up, but this isn’t the time. You’re hurting. Tell me what hurts the most, and I’ll see if I can find something among my father’s medicine to help.”
Jake scowled at her. “You’re a strange woman, Mrs. Hayes. I do remember your name right, don’t I?”
“Yes.”
“Where’s your husband?”
“Killed in the war.” Miranda knew she should feel uneasy when his eyes moved over her then, but instead she felt self-conscious, only then realizing how wrinkled her clothes must be and how disheveled she must look. She absently put a hand to her hair, realizing it must be in terrible disarray.
“There’s nobody else?” he asked.
“A brother. He’s in Virginia City, Nevada. As soon as I figure out what to do with you, I’m leaving here to go and find him. He’s all I have left since my father was killed. My mother died six years ago.”
“Pretty dangerous for a woman out here all alone, what with all the raiding.” Jake watched the hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth.
“Yes, isn’t it?” she answered sarcastically.
Jake couldn’t help a slight grin of his own. “Even more dangerous to set out all alone for Nevada.”
“I’ll find someone reputable to take me there. I’m no fainting daisy, Mr. Harkner.”
He let out a little laugh, then winced with the pain it brought. “I’ll agree with that,” he told her, his voice gruff with pain. “You say…you’ve got medicine? My head feels like it’s coming right off my shoulders.”