“Katie, I’ve had my share of women, and I’m done with that. I’d never hurt you or cheat on you. Never. Understand?”
“Yes,” she said, blinking back more tears.
“And I don’t care if you gain another fifty pounds. I’ll always see you only as the beautiful woman who mothered my children. Nothing else matters, Katie. What matters is that you be proud to be the wife of Lloyd Harkner and the mother of three beautiful children and maybe more. You’re part of the Harkner family and the J&L.”
A tear slipped out of one eye. Lloyd kissed it, then pushed himself inside of her as he grasped her bottom from underneath. “And you’re a part of me!” he added. He buried his face in her thick, red tresses as he pushed deep inside of her. “And I love every damn inch of you,” he groaned next to her ear.
He felt her arch toward him, relished the fact that she cried out with pleasure. He filled her with his groaning need, loving her, wanting her. He surged into her with a desire too long neglected. It was good to be home, his father safe, his mother better, his sister happy, the children playing somewhere.
“I love you, Katie-girl,” he whispered into her ear, taking her hard and fast, his life spilling into her. Evie was right. If God wanted them to have another child, then so be it.
He kissed Katie hungrily, wanting to brand into her that there was no other, wanting to prove to himself things would be good now. The J&L had become a haven for all of them, an escape from the past, a soothing balm for the soul. There was a time when the family had feared life would never be this good. Now he dared to believe it could always be this way, not just for him and Katie, but for all of them.
Still, something didn’t feel right, and he couldn’t figure out what it was. He relaxed beside Katie, pulling her into his arms. Maybe it had something to do with Jake’s confrontation with Brady Fillmore. Soon, he and Jake should pay a visit on their cattle-stealing neighbor.
Part Two
Sixteen
“Hello, Jeff.” Peter Brown greeted his good friend at the Journal in downtown Chicago.
Jeff, wearing his typical round spectacles and a tweed suit, rose to shake hands with Peter, grinning broadly. “Peter! What the heck brings a wealthy Chicago lawyer into my humble little office?”
“Humble? You’re a prize-winning columnist. There’s nothing humble about that.”
Jeff laughed, offering Peter a seat. Peter Brown always made him feel like a peasant. The always-dapper Peter still sported thick, dark-brown hair and a handsome smile. Today he wore a dark-blue twill, waist-cut suit jacket with a V-cut in the front that fell into a tail at the back. His pants matched the jacket, and his white shirt sported gold cuffs and buttons, worn with a deep-blue silk tie and set off with a lighter blue silk paisley waistcoat to which a gold watch and chain were attached. The color seemed to make Peter’s eyes look even bluer. Dapper indeed! In spite of his money, Peter was never anything but friendly, and comfortable in any setting, including a visit to the J&L last summer after the hearing in Denver that made Peter almost as famous as Jeff. It seemed that anyone who had connections to Jake Harkner ended up famous.
Peter sat down in a wooden swivel chair, and Jeff took a seat behind his very messy desk stacked with news clippings. “You must be here about Jake’s latest hair-raising adventure,” Jeff teased. “My connections say he’s doing well and has gone home, but Boulder is still talking about what happened. Some of them still want Jake to be their sheriff.” He leaned back in his chair. “Of course, we know Jake would never take them up on it. Randy would have a fit.”
Peter nodded. “That she would. But then, Jake Harkner has a way of landing himself in situations that upset her greatly without even trying.”
“You aren’t here because he’s in trouble again, are you?”
Peter removed his silk top hat and set it on Jeff’s desk. “No. He’s obviously not in trouble, certainly nothing like that fiasco in Denver last summer.”
“Randy’s last letter said he’s not going to Denver this year. Just Lloyd is going, although that city holds some pretty bad memories for him, too. I could kick myself for publishing that book when I did—the way Jake lives, I could have added some very exciting stories to it.”
Peter smiled. “Well, the name Jeff Truebridge is well known now, thanks to the Harkners, and that column of yours has had several new installments to the Jake Harkner ongoing saga. I bet you’ll never forget our adventures back in Oklahoma.”
“Hell no. How does a man forget something like that? Greatest adventure of my life. I’ll bet you haven’t found anything that exciting since you came back to Chicago, in spite of being in the big city.”