The Last Outlaw(5)
“The wife and kid can handle things.”
“Branding cattle? That’s hardly a woman’s job,” Jake sneered. “Or have you already lost most of your herd to gambling debts? Maybe you aren’t man enough to take care of what needs taking care of.”
Some of the men at the table scooted their chairs back, eyeing Jake warily.
“And how come you ain’t helpin’ out at your own ranch?” Brady asked.
“My son runs the J&L now. It’s more his than mine anyway. And we have plenty of good men, who we can afford because we do our job right. And we sure as hell don’t leave it to women.”
Brady threw in three cards and faced Jake squarely. “Your woman wouldn’t be any good for it anyway. My wife says she’s gotten so thin a good windstorm would blow her away. What happened to her, Jake? She all wore out from puttin’ up with her sonofabitch husband all these years? Ain’t she ten years younger than you? You makin’ an old woman out of her?”
“Shut up, Brady!” The local barber sitting at the card table grumbled the words. “A man’s wife ain’t none of your business.”
Other men inside the saloon stopped their drinking and cards to watch, all of them not sure what would happen. No man in his right mind goaded Jake Harkner. If looks could kill, Brady would be long dead.
Brady feigned an unafraid grin and turned away. Jake stood up, and the room quieted even more.
“Somebody go get the sheriff,” one man muttered.
“Leave it be,” another named Till Medley answered.
Jake walked over to Brady and braced his hand on the card table at the man’s side, leaning close behind him. “One more word about my wife, and I’ll shove those cards up your asshole, Brady. And I’ll use the barrel of one of my guns to make sure they’re in there nice and tight. These guns have hair triggers. I’d hate to see what would happen if the damn thing went off while it was shoved up inside you. I’ve put a gun in a man’s mouth and fired it, but up his ass would be something new for me.”
“You cocky sonofabitch,” Brady grumbled, still feigning bravery. He didn’t make a move.
“And don’t be coming around my ranch again, begging for tools or any other supplies. I’ve got no respect for a man who doesn’t take care of his own. And I’d better never catch you stealing J&L cattle again either, or my son and I will hang you! Understood?”
Brady glanced at the other men. “You hear that? This sonofabitch ain’t no reformed outlaw. He is an outlaw. The real man inside don’t never change.”
“Another word about my saint of a wife, and you’ll find out how right you are,” Jake told him, straightening.
Brady slowly rose from his chair and turned to face Jake. He was a big, burly man, but not quite as tall as Jake. “Saint? She married an outlaw!”
In an instant, Jake grabbed the man around the neck and shoved him back into his chair, then slammed his head down on the card table, breaking his nose. The rest of the men quickly got up and out of the way. Jake grabbed Brady’s collar and jerked him back to his feet, pushing him hard against the wall. Brady’s face landed sideways, revealing blood fanning from his nose.
“You have no idea how lucky you are to be alive!” Jake growled. “If I ever hear you saying anything more about my wife, or if I catch J&L cattle on your ranch, you’ll be hanged from the nearest tree, Brady. I’ll find ways to make you suffer before I put a noose around your neck!”
Jake let go of the man, and Brady straightened, raising his chin and wincing as he put his arm up to catch the blood pouring from his nose. “I ain’t afraid of you, Harkner. I ain’t armed, so you can’t use them guns of yours. Besides that, you’re old enough to be my father,” he sneered. “I ain’t worried about gettin’ in a fight with you, if that’s what you’re after.”
Jake stepped closer. “Be worried! Who’s the one standing here with a bloody nose?”
“Jesus, Brady, are you stupid or what?” The local pharmacist, Bill Tucker, had asked the question. “Get the hell out of here and let the man drink his beer. You’ve already lost most of your money anyway.”
Jake stepped back, fists clenched. Brady took a stance as though to fight him, then backed off. Jake could see the fear in his eyes. He dearly wanted to beat the man into the floor cracks for what he’d said about Randy. God, how he hated all the new laws that kept a man from dealing his own justice.
“Go on. Get out,” the bar owner, Clete Russell, told Brady.