Outlaw Hearts(177)
“That’s enough, Mrs. Harkner,” the prosecutor interrupted.
“Let her finish,” the judge told the man.
Miranda kept her eyes on Jake. “I have loved Jake Harkner for almost twenty years,” she continued. “I have never for one moment regretted marrying him, and at his side I have known nothing but happiness. He has been a gentle man who never once raised a hand to either of his children. He never told them about his past because he loved them so much and was afraid of losing their love.”
She looked up at the judge. “The man on trial here today, sir, is far different from the man whose picture is on those twenty-year-old wanted posters. The old Jake Harkner is a stranger.” She looked at Jake, proud of how nice he looked today in spite the weight he had lost, the way he had aged. He was still her handsome Jake. She had picked out a pair of black cotton trousers and new leather boots for him. He wore a white silk shirt that made him look even darker. The collar of the shirt was dressed with a black string tie, and he wore a black suit coat.
She turned to look at the jurors then. “Jake is a man with many scars, both physical and emotional, all put there by a violent, brutal father. He survived and brought himself out of that hell. He is a changed man, and the new Jake Harkner does not deserve to be hanged or put in prison. He has already suffered much worse punishment through his own struggles and nightmares. As far as the things he is charged for here, he was not with Kennedy’s men that day. If the girl he helped that day were here, she would tell you he risked his life to rescue her from them. That’s why Bill Kennedy searched for Jake afterward, for revenge. That is what led to the shoot-out in California.”
She looked defiantly at the prosecutor, as though to dare him to come up with something else to try to make Jake look bad. The man glowered at her. “You’re a clever woman, Mrs. Harkner, but then a woman who lives with a wanted man has to learn to be clever, doesn’t she? She has to constantly be changing her name, lying to her children and her friends. She has to pretend life has been all honey and roses to try to convince others her husband is a changed man, because if she doesn’t, she might suffer at his hands.”
“I have never suffered at my husband’s hands. I have suffered more these last few minutes under your questioning than I ever did in nearly twenty years of living with Jake Harkner.”
The man’s face reddened as several in the courtroom chuckled. The judge pounded his gavel and things quieted again. Jake’s attorney rose, smiling. “Your Honor, I was going to ask Mrs. Harkner a few more questions, but she has already answered them. I daresay her testimony just now has done more than anything else I could say at this moment. I would like her to step down and I will call Mr. Harkner himself.”
Miranda rose as deputies unlocked Jake’s handcuffs but left ankle cuffs on him, making it difficult to walk to the stand. As they passed each other, Miranda touched his arm. “Yo te quiero, mi esposo,” she said softly, giving him a supportive smile. If only the girl he had rescued were here to testify. Louella Griffith, the court had said her name was, but there was no longer any trace of her in St. Louis.
For close to an hour, Jake was grilled. He refused to react with anger or violence when the prosecutor kept bringing up other facets of his past, including what had happened with his father. Miranda was proud of his composure. He fully denied having any part of the robbery in question, told his own story of how he had found Miss Griffith with Kennedy’s men and had stolen her away from them and taken her home.
“Miss Griffith never said anything about anyone ‘rescuing’ her,” the prosecutor put in. “It was assumed she was dumped on her parents’ doorstep after you and Kennedy and the others were through with her. She suffered so much shame and horror that she was delirious. Her family moved away without a trace, probably to go somewhere where others wouldn’t know what had happened to their daughter.”
“I can only tell you the truth about what I know happened,” Jake answered. “There is nothing I can do about the fact that the woman isn’t here to back up my testimony.”
The questioning finally ended, and Jake returned to his seat, looking weary and beaten. The finishing arguments were given, and the jury was sent to deliberate. Miranda watched the guards take Jake out of the room and back to his prison cell, and she sat down in her seat, putting her head in her hands to pray. It was done now. His life was in the hands of twelve people who didn’t know him, didn’t know the kind of man he really was. Jess put an arm around her, and she allowed herself a good cry on his shoulder. She had told him that it was not necessary for him to be there, but secretly she was glad for his quiet presence and gentle understanding…glad for his silent love.