The Last Outlaw(147)

Katie blushed as Jake was herded into the house and peppered with questions while every family member cried and laughed and cried and laughed. Jake kept telling them it had been a long, tiring trip home, and he’d tell them everything after a good night’s sleep.

Cole rode in before Jake could make his way upstairs. He dismounted and charged into the house and up to Jake, embracing him.

“Jake, you tough sonofabitch,” he joked through tears. “Randy insisted you weren’t dead, but after what I saw them bastards do to you…” He pulled away for a moment, grasping Jake’s shoulders. “Don’t you ever, ever ask me to go with you for somethin’ like that again! Your son beat the hell out of me when I got home for showin’ up without you. I was wishin’ he’d just shoot me and get it over with.”

“My God, Cole, you did what you had to do. I never would have forgiven you if they’d got their hands on that girl. You did right, Cole.”

“Gretta and Annie are goin’ to be so happy to find out you made it home. They were devastated over this. Poor little Annie couldn’t get over what you did for her.”

Jake embraced the man again, slapping him on the back. “Go on out there and get drunk with the other men. I don’t think Lloyd will mind if you end up having to sleep it off tomorrow.”

Cole grinned and wiped at his eyes before looking Jake over. “Damned if you don’t look good, Jake. When I saw them drag you off—” He sniffed and wiped at his nose with his coat sleeve. “Goddamn, I felt like somebody was rippin’ my heart right out of my chest. You’re a sight for sore eyes.” He raised his chin a little, obviously embarrassed at his tears. “You can explain to me and the boys later. You need to be with your family.” He grasped Jake’s hand and squeezed it. “Welcome home, boss.” He nodded to the rest of the family and left.

Little Jake walked up to Jake and hugged him all over again. Jake stepped back a little and looked him over. “By God, you’ve grown!”

Little Jake straightened to as tall as he could make himself. “Yup. And they call me Jake now—just Jake. From now on I am Jake, and you are Big Jake.” The boy threw his arms around his grandfather once more.

“Calling me Big Jake is just fine with me.” Jake gave him another hug, then turned to Stephen and Ben. Stephen was taller than Katie, and Ben looked like he was pushing eighteen. “Look at the three of you. The future of the J&L is looking damn good!”

The three boys had red, puffy eyes from crying. “We love you, Grandpa,” Little Jake told him. “We talked a lot about how we didn’t believe you died on account of you’re too tough to die. I told everybody that.”

“Well, we all die eventually, son, but I had a talk with God, and He decided it wasn’t my time yet.”

The three boys smiled through tears and straightened to stand as tall as they could. Jake kept hold of Randy’s hand and limped over to sit down in his favorite chair. He noticed a blanket and pillow.

“That’s where I’ve been sleeping,” Randy told him. “I couldn’t bring myself to sleep alone in that big bed upstairs.”

He leaned down and kissed her. “Well, you sure as hell won’t be sleeping up there alone tonight.” He sat down in the chair and pulled her onto his lap. She kept his coat pulled tight around herself, and she curled her still-wet feet under the skirt of her dress to warm them. She rested her head on Jake’s shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around her. “You feel so good in my arms.”

“And your arms feel so good around me,” Randy answered.

“Randy, I have a lot of healing to do yet. And I’m tired to my bones. I can’t—”

“Jake, all that matters is you’re here and alive and I can lie next to you tonight. We have plenty of time for everything else. We’ll go to the line shack as soon as you feel up to it.”

The rest of the family got some food ready, and all was sweet bedlam again. It was music to Jake’s ears. He studied Randy’s face as he smoothed back her hair and leaned down to kiss her again. “Lo nuestro será eterno, Randy. Tu y yo estaremos unidos eternamente.”

You and I are forever.

She was safe now. Jake was home.





Fifty-five


Randy helped Jake bathe, her heart sick at the sight of more scars on his back. There was barely a half inch of his original skin left there. She gently washed his back, almost afraid to touch it.

“It’s okay,” he told her. “There is no feeling to scar tissue.”

Her eyes teared. “My God, Jake, how you must have suffered.” Her voice broke as she rinsed his hair and back.