The Last Outlaw(41)

“Okay.” She snuggled even closer. “You do so much for me, Jake.”

The remark pained him. I’ve done so much TO you, he thought. He would never understand why she’d stayed with him through so much hell. How many times had he thought they’d finally found peace? Yet here he lay healing from a bullet wound, and they were talking about how to help her get over an ugly, brutal attack she’d suffered…because of him…because of his enemies. It was no wonder she’d half lost her mind.





Fourteen


Lloyd drank in the sight of the Harkner homestead as they came over the rise. Below, the Harkners’ three homes were nestled against the foothills of the Rocky Mountains range. There should be more snow high in those mountains, but it had been a mild winter for Colorado and not enough rain this spring. Now they were headed for July, normally dry anyway.

He couldn’t worry about it today. It was just good to be home, especially good that his father was healing fast. The whole family had been through so much hell, and strangely, in spite of most of the trouble stemming from Jake Harkner’s past, Jake remained the hub around which the family circled. It was as though all the spokes that emanated from that hub would fall to pieces without that central strength. Jake would deny that, a man who had never accepted his worth. You’re just like your father, people often said to Lloyd. Some men might not take that as a compliment, considering. But Lloyd was proud.

He lit a cigarette and waited while everyone greeted Jake and fussed over him. Lloyd shook his head, remembering there was a time when he’d thought he hated the man—so many years…so many memories. Jake Harkner had a surprising capacity to love, mostly because he’d never known the meaning of the word as a boy growing up with Satan for a father. Lloyd supposed that was why Jake had been determined to be the best father a kid could ask for. It was his way of living over his boyhood in the way he would have liked it to be. Everything they’d been through only made the whole family stronger, knitted together in a way that they would never be pulled apart.

That’s why it had hurt so much to see Randy withering away. These last few months, he and Evie had feared they were watching their parents drift apart, something they never thought could happen, but there was hope in the fact that his mother actually seemed a little stronger on their trip home. Maybe it was just because she felt safer here, in familiar surroundings. Over the last couple of days he’d noticed more joy in her eyes, and she’d fussed over Jake all the way home, giving him orders for every move he made so he wouldn’t reinjure himself. They’d exchanged a few biting, teasing remarks, a rather comical exchange of barbs—something he hadn’t see them do in a long time.

Something had happened, but he wasn’t going to ask Jake about it. His father was a man who talked about something only when he wanted to. Better to just take comfort in what he’d observed and be glad that maybe—just maybe—his parents were finding their way back to each other. It just takes a lot of time. His sister had told him that once, and who knew better about things like that than Evie?

He kicked Strawberry into motion, riding at a faster gait to catch up with the entire procession of family and ranch hands as they made their way down the hill, the three boys peppering Jake and Randy with questions, Little Jake riding in circles around the buggy. Chickens squawked, and horses in an outer corral whinnied, as though even the animals were glad to see Jake return.

“You really okay, Grampa?” Little Jake asked when they finally reached the house. The boy suddenly looked ready to cry.

“I’m all right, Little Jake. Everybody come inside the house, and we’ll have the girls cook up a good meal for all of us. We’ll talk about everything then.”

“And no jumping all over Jake. He’s not healed yet,” Randy told them with an air of authority. Lloyd noticed his father move an arm around her when he climbed out of the buggy. Yes, something had certainly changed.

“Mommy! Mommy!” Tricia shouted as Katie ran down the steps to sweep her daughter into her arms and hug her tight. Lloyd thought it was a beautiful sight. Katie Donavan had come into his life when he needed her most. She was beautiful and loving, had helped him get over his first wife’s death, and was a good mother to his and Beth’s son Stephen. She’d given him Tricia and now another son, Donavan Patrick.

How amazing was it that the infamous Jake Harkner was responsible for this huge, loving family? And now he and Lloyd ran this ranch together, a glorious eighty-thousand acres. This spring hadn’t boded well for rain, but Lloyd had planned ahead and was saving grass for emergency feed in a vast valley called Evie’s Garden. Horse Creek ran through there and had never dried up, even when there had been years with little rain. Mountain snows fed it, but this year that could be a problem.