She turned to Lloyd. “He would want that for you too, Lloyd. You are damn well your father’s son. You’re an absolute replica of the man, right down to your very soul. You need to go on with life, running this ranch, being a wonderful father and husband and brother and son. Keep this ranch going like it always has, because when Jake gets back, he’ll want to see that you’ve gone on just fine without him. He’d want that.”
Who do you belong to?
Randy nearly gasped when the words hit her. It was as though Jake was standing right beside her and whispering the words into her ear. She put a hand to her chest and nearly doubled over.
Jake Harkner, she told him inside.
Every beautiful inch of you.
Randy put a hand to her quivering lips, new tears coming. “He’s alive. I know it. He’s alive. If he wasn’t, I’d know it.”
Fifty-two
They waited…and waited. It was another month, the end of August, when Peter showed up again at the J&L, this time with Jeff Truebridge. Once Jeff heard the story, he couldn’t resist being part of the search for Jake in Mexico. Not only was the subject of Jake Harkner’s possible demise a top nationwide story, but Jeff deeply cared. The whole family greeted him with hugs and handshakes, their tears mixed with Jeff’s when he and Peter brought them the bad news.
“We got next to nothing as far as cooperation from Mexican authorities,” Peter told them.
Jeff removed his ever-present wire-rimmed glasses and wiped them with a handkerchief, then wiped at his eyes. “It’s pretty obvious the law in that area is run by this Don de Leon,” he told them, “and he refused to talk to us. He sent some older man who worked for him to speak with us and the Mexican authorities. He told us…” Jeff hesitated, wiping at his eyes again.
“My God,” he continued. “Jake’s just about the toughest man I’ve ever known. Being his friend has been the best thing that ever happened to me. When I got to know him… I never dreamed he could be that good of a friend. Being able to say I rode with Jake Harkner is my proudest honor.”
“What did that Mexican man tell you?” Lloyd asked, fearing the answer.
“He said—” He put his glasses back on. “I don’t know how to tell you without just saying it flat out. The don accused Jake of stealing from him. We all know it was that girl, but he claimed it was horses, which he said gave him the right to kill Jake. He admitted Jake had a broken leg and was pretty battered from being dragged for a ways. They didn’t do a thing to wrap or set his broken leg, and the don ordered him—” He removed his glasses again. “God help me get over this,” he wept. “He ordered him…to be whipped until he passed out.”
“Oh, my God, Jake!” Randy bent over in her chair, her head in her hands. “Jake! Jake!”
“It’s a good thing we talked you into staying here and letting us go,” Peter told Lloyd. “You’re as bad as your father with that temper of yours, and you probably would have done something to get yourself in trouble too. You probably would have gone after that wealthy don and ended up missing, just like your father.” He sighed. “According to the old man, some of de Leon’s men took Jake into the desert to die a slow death,” he finished, his own emotional pain obvious in his voice. “The don’s words were to let the buzzards finish him off.”
“Daddy!” Evie groaned. “How could God let this happen?”
“But we still don’t have a body, do we?” Lloyd growled. He stood behind Katie, refusing to sit down or to cry. “Did anyone take you to where they left him to die?”
Peter reached over and touched Randy’s shoulder. “Yes.”
“And?” Lloyd looked ready to grab something and throw it.
“No body,” Peter told him. “The old man swore that’s where they left it, but they’d stripped him naked, so there were no clothes left to prove anything.”
“Not even any bones?” Lloyd asked, feeling ill at having to put it so bluntly.
Peter shook his head.
“Then my mother might be right. It doesn’t matter if it was buzzards or ants or coyotes or anything else. I’ve seen enough animals with their bones picked bare to know there is always something left. Always something! The only way there would be nothing left is if the body got moved—or if he lived.”
“Or was buried,” Peter reminded him.
“Who would bother, out there in the desert?” Lloyd argued.
“But how can a man survive something like that?” Katie asked.