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Outlaw Hearts(77)

By:Rosanne Bittner


Clarence closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Yes, this was the life for him! This was where he belonged. He wanted some excitement out of life, and Virginia City held all the excitement a man could hope to find! Maybe after tonight he would never even go back to his uncle’s camp, except to get his clothes and leave for good.

***

It was already getting dark when Jake led the wagon down the muddy main street of Virginia City. An early snowstorm in the Sierras had stranded him and Miranda and the Mormon supply train with whom they had traveled from Salt Lake, and he and Miranda were both weary from their struggle against the cold and snow. The duration of the storm had left them buried against the side of a mountain and had nearly starved them out. The supply train carried only hardware, no extra food, and it had been a harrowing experience.

The same storm had frozen the dirt streets of town, and now a slight warming and the tremendous traffic of wagons and mules and horses, combined with the warmth of all the animal manure that was dropped onto the ground, had warmed the streets just enough to bring on a thaw that created a sucking, smelly mud. Both Jake and the oxen found it difficult to trudge through the muck.

The Nevada desert had been beastly, and Miranda had gotten sick. Her illness had brought terror to his soul, for he’d been sure it was cholera, but she was better now. He had gotten a taste of what it would be like to be without her, and he didn’t like it at all. As far as he was concerned, she was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

They had left the men of the supply train at a warehouse north of town, and now had the task of finding a place to stay for the night. The air was filled with screams and gunfire and piano music, and here and there a man could be seen lying on the boardwalk, out cold from too much whiskey. Jake thought how at one time he would have fit right in here among the wild women and smoking gamblers, and it still tugged at him a little, only because they had been so long away from any kind of civilization, which left him glad to see people and hear laughter. There had been times when they had both felt half-crazy with the tedious journey and the fear of dying either from the heat of the desert or the cold of the Sierras. Before that there had been the Rockies to cross, pathways along the sides of mountaintops that made a man dizzy.

He glanced up at Miranda, who was gawking at the drunks and at whores who draped themselves over balconies, displaying their generous offerings. She had come through this journey with hardly a complaint, even when she had been so sick. She had shown courage and strength, and he hoped her worthless brother appreciated what she had been through just to find him.

He shuddered at the thought of her actually trying to make this trip alone, and a feeling of intense relief spread through him at having made the decision to try to find her and help her get here. Knowing now what the trip was like, the heat, the mosquitoes, the snakes, the dangerous roadways through the mountains, the horrendous and unpredictable prairie storms, Indians, men like those who had taken her in back at that trading post… Being a woman alone, she might never have made it, although he knew she would have given it a hell of a try and would not have let on that she was the least bit afraid. He’d never known anyone so strong and determined.

They were barely halfway down the street when the doors to one saloon burst open and two men charged out, fists flying. They were followed by a swarm of men who were taking sides and rooting for one man or the other, and the wagon itself was quickly surrounded. The oxen balked and the horses tied at the rear of the wagon whinnied. Two men climbed onto the wagon and began pulling at Miranda, who began batting at them with her fists.

“Hey, honey, you’re new!” one of the men bellowed, holding up a whiskey bottle with one hand.

In a second, Jake was up in the wagon beside Miranda. On the way up he grabbed one of the men by the collar and threw him off in one powerful movement, then raised a booted foot and kicked the second man in the chest, knocking him into the mud with a splat. The man just lay there sprawled on his back and grinning. Another tried to climb into the wagon from the back, and Jake pulled a revolver and shot at him, deliberately splintering a piece of the wagon gate beside the man’s hand to warn him. The man jumped down, and the fight nearby suddenly stopped at the startling crack of Jake’s gun.

“Get behind the seat!” he ordered Miranda. She quickly obeyed, her ears hurting from the firing of the gun so close to her head. She thought of another time that gun had been fired, its roar pounding against her eardrums, the weapon used against a bounty hunter who had had no chance against Jake Harkner.

Jake holstered the revolver and reached under the wagon seat to retrieve his shotgun. He waved it at the crowd of men, who had quieted. They stood all around the wagon now, just staring. “The next man who climbs on this wagon and touches my wife gets his guts blown out!” Jake roared. “Don’t test me!”