Do Not Forsake Me (15 page)

Lloyd nodded. “Maybe. I think we should ride out and pay a visit to both families, make sure they understand that if they want to give us any more trouble, they'll regret it.”

Jake laid down the second gun, not quite finished yet, and moved his leg back to the sofa. He stretched out against a pillow on the arm of the sofa, suddenly looking tired. He rubbed at his eyes, his mood seeming to change somewhat. “Soon as I can ride we'll go,” he told Lloyd. “Jeff can go with us. I told him we'd teach him to shoot and that he could ride with us a time or two, as long as he stays out of the way.”

Lloyd shrugged. “Whatever you say, Pa. I did promise Katie I'd stick around a few more days.”

“Is she all right?”

“Actually, the shoot-out shook her up pretty bad. She just needs to get used to what I do for a living.”

Jake sighed. “She'll
never
get used to it. Your mother never really has. She pretends, but she doesn't fool me.” He glanced at Lloyd. “She ever say anything to you about not feeling good—lately, I mean?”

Lloyd frowned. “No. Something wrong?”

Jake put an arm over his eyes, settling deeper into the pillow. “I'm not sure.” His voice sounded weaker.

“Pa, are you all right?”

“I'm fine. I've just been lying around too long. Makes a man weaker. Much as I love being with your mother, I've got to get up and around and out of here.”

Stephen came running into the sitting room, Katie following behind.

“Hey, you little cheater, where are you going?” Jake asked.

“Home. Katie says I have to help her put away some new china she got.”

“That doesn't sound like much fun for a boy,” Jake teased.

“It teaches him patience, Jake,” Katie answered. “And a respect for fine things.”

“That son of mine taking good care of you, Katie?”

Katie reddened as Lloyd rose to walk closer. “Yes, sir. He's been…helping me redecorate the house, and we took Stevie fishing and on a picnic the other day.”

“Good.” Jake glanced at Lloyd. “You two happy?”

“What do you think?” Lloyd bantered. He moved an arm around Katie.

“Be careful, Lloyd,” Jake warned, “about going on picnics and such. There are still some Bryants and Buckleys out there who aren't real happy with us. Don't let yourself be caught off guard.”

“Pa, I know what to watch for. In the meantime, you do exactly what Brian tells you to do and don't get up and around sooner than you should.” He glanced at Stephen. “Let's go, Son.”

Stephen ran up to Jake, leaning down to give him a peck on the cheek.

“Bye, Grampa. I'll beat you again next time.”

“I'm sure you will,” Jake answered. “By
cheatin
g
!”

Stephen laughed and ran outside.

“Will you please explain to your son the difference between cheating and bluffing?” Jake asked Lloyd.

“I'm not sure I even want him to learn how to play poker,” Lloyd answered. “You can't help teaching your grandsons how to get into trouble, can you?”

“They're
already
in trouble. They're
related
to me.”

“Yeah, well, God help them,” Lloyd joked. “You stay on that sofa, Pa.”

“Got no choice. I have to answer to the warden out there in the kitchen.”

Lloyd grinned and started to leave.

“Wait for Evie and walk her to her house,” Jake told him.

Evie came out from the kitchen then and leaned down to kiss her father's forehead. “Brian should be back soon from delivering Jean Howley's baby. I want to be there when he gets home. Mother gave me some chicken and pie for him.”

Jake reached up touched her cheek. “You take care, angel. Lloyd will walk you home.”

Little Jake came running up to him then, and Jake grabbed him up and kissed his cheek. “And keep a good eye on this little escape artist,” he added, tickling the boy. Little Jake giggled.

Evie left with Little Jake and Lloyd and his family. Randy came into the living room to collect the pie plates and coffee cups. “Jake, you didn't eat your pie.”

He closed his eyes, putting an arm over his face again. “Later. I'm all of a sudden tired again.”

“Well, you should be. You've done too much today.” Randy started to leave the room, but Jake stopped her by calling her name, his arm still over his face.

“Don't forget to see Peter and tell him we'll meet with him tomorrow about ten, if that time suits him. I can walk around good enough for that.”

Randy turned away. “If you say so.” She untied her apron and removed it, laying it across a chair. “I'm pretty tired myself, so I might as well go now and get it over with.” She turned to a mirror near the front door and re-pinned the sides of her hair. “I'm not even sure Peter can see us as soon as tomorrow. He does have other appointments, you know.”

Jeff noticed Jake look her over with a possessive gleam in his eyes. “He'll do it…for you.”

Randy turned, putting her hands on her hips and giving him a scolding look. “You just get out of that dark mood, Jake Harkner, and stay off that leg while I'm gone, or I'll shoot you in the other leg.”

Jake finally grinned a little. “It wouldn't be the first time you've shot me.” He grimaced as he scooted lower on the sofa. “Just make sure we see Peter as soon as possible. We have to get things going with Jeff before Lloyd and I leave again, which will only be another week or so,” Jake told her.

“Don't you think that's a little soon for that leg?”

“We have things to do that can't be put off much longer.”

Randy watched him closely. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing. Just routine.”

Randy sighed. “Well, as soon as Brian gets back, I want him to check your dressings and make sure that wound isn't bleeding on the inside or something.”

“Speaking of Brian, it's
you
he should examine. You're in some kind of pain, Randy.”

“It's nothing. You worry too much.” Randy walked into the bedroom, and Jeff could see Jake tense up.

“You all right, Jake?”

“I'm fine. Meet us at Peter Brown's around ten tomorrow. In fact, come here first and we'll all go to breakfast.”

“Sure.” Jeff worried there might be a confrontation between Jake and Peter soon. It seemed almost inevitable, with all the tension between the three of them. “I need to get things together for that trip with you and Lloyd—which, believe me, makes me very nervous.”

Jake kept his arm over his eyes, his voice sounding weaker. “Jeff, you're braver than you know. If you're put on the spot…you'll come through. That's why I don't mind taking you along with us. And by the time Lloyd and I are done with you…you'll be asking to sign up as a deputy U.S. Marshal.”

Jeff grinned. “Thanks, but I'll stick to writing.”

Randy came back into the living room, wearing a velvet hat with a flower design crocheted into it. She took a shawl from a coat stand near the door, then came over and leaned down to kiss Jake. “I'm leaving. Promise me you'll stay off that leg.”

Jake grasped her arm and leaned up for another kiss. “You
would
tell me if something was wrong…wouldn't you?”

“Wrong?”

“You know what I'm talking about.”

She gave him a smile. “I'm all right.”

“All the same, I think we should tell Brian. You want him to look at my leg anyway. Tell him about the pains you've been having.”

“Jake.”

“Don't argue with me about it.”

She straightened and sighed. “If it will make you rest easier, I'll bring him over, but not today.”

Jake kept hold of her hand. “Today! I love you and I don't intend to lose you because we put something off for too long.”

She sighed in resignation. “If you insist.”

“I insist. You're always concerned about everybody else and don't pay enough attention to your own health. I should have realized that a long time ago.”

Randy sat down on the edge of the sofa and leaned over to kiss him again. “Jake, I'm fine.”

“We'll let Brian decide that. Seeing you in pain scares the hell out of me.”

“And what do you think
I've
been going through the last couple of weeks?”

“That's different. We know the cause of my pain. We
don't
know the cause of yours. If I lose you, I'm a dead man.”

She touched his face. “You aren't going to lose me, Jake.”

Jeff made a mental note.
Jake
Harkner
fears
nothing…except losing his wife. I think if that happened, he'd put one of those famous guns to his head and pull the trigger.

Randy rose and wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders.

“And don't stay too long at Peter's place,” Jake told her.

She scowled at him. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“It means that if I was Peter, I'd never let you back out the door.”

“And risk
you
coming for me? Peter isn't an idiot, Jake.” She started for the door.

“Wait!” Jake spoke up. “Have Jeff walk with you. I don't like you walking out there alone.”

“I do it all the time when you're gone,” she answered, starting for the door again.

“Randy!” There was more authority in his voice this time. Jeff stiffened. “I mean it. Let Jeff go with you. And once Lloyd and I leave, you don't go anywhere alone, understand?”

Randy frowned. “Jake, what are you not telling me?”

“It's just a gut feeling, that's all. Until I know it's really over, don't be running around alone and don't be going anywhere out of town.”

Randy looked at Jeff. “The man has spoken.”

Jeff swallowed, glancing at Jake. “I don't mind taking her, Jake, but what the heck would somebody like me do if there was trouble?”

“You'll go into the kitchen and take down my ten gauge, that's what you'll do. Anybody can hit anything with a damn shotgun, even if they don't know a thing about shooting. You just raise it and pull the trigger. That thing will blow a man clear across the street. I ought to know.” He laid his head back again and closed his eyes. “I've by God sent a man flying more than once with it.”

Jeff looked at Randy. She just shrugged. “You heard him. I've used that gun myself. I'll tell you about it sometime.”

Taking a deep breath, Jeff walked to the kitchen to retrieve the shotgun.

“Take down the metal box from the top of the icebox,” Jake told him. “Get some shells out.”

Jeff did as he was told, bringing the shells and the shotgun into the sitting room. Jake sat up. “Hand it over.” He opened the shotgun and rammed two shells into it. “I prefer slugs, but for someone who doesn't know anything about where to aim one of these and how they kick, buckshot is better. You're bound to hit
something
.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jake handed out the gun, and Jeff just stared at it. “It won't bite you, Jeff. And if my wife seems threatened, don't you hesitate. I'm the law here, and I won't arrest you if you screw up.”

“What?” Jeff took the gun and saw that Jake was grinning.

“Wait for Randy at Peter's place and walk her back here. You can leave the shotgun here when you get back.”

“Yes, sir…I mean, Jake.”

“And if Peter tries anything with my wife, use that shotgun on him.”

Jeff just blinked. Randy took his arm. “This time I think he's serious,” she said with a grin. She took his arm and left with him.

Jake watched them through a side window until they disappeared past the house next door. He laid back down against the pillow. He'd nearly fallen asleep when someone knocked at the door. Jake roused from the groggy nap and immediately picked up one of the six-guns he'd just put together. Only two cartridges lay nearby and he quickly loaded it, not sure how much time had passed since Randy left.

“Pa, it's just me, and the door is unlocked. Just want you to know I'm coming in.”

Jake kept the gun in his hand as Lloyd came inside.

“Why is the door unlocked?”

“Your mother left to go see Peter about a meeting tomorrow. I didn't bother hobbling over there to lock the door.” Jake noticed a deep concern in his son's eyes. “What's wrong?”

Lloyd was wearing his guns and looked ready to shoot something. “Sparky brought over a telegram. Marty Bryant escaped.”

Jake sat up straighter. “How?”

“They aren't sure. It just says the prison wagon was found between Edmond and Oklahoma City—Marshal Dexter Lace and the driver are both dead, along with the guard. Even the three other prisoners in the wagon with Marty were killed. From the tracks they left, it looks like a lot of men were involved.”

Jake closed his eyes. “
Shit!
I
knew
something was wrong. I
felt
it. And Dexter Lace was a good man—a good friend and damn good with a gun.”

“It could have been us, Pa. And if enough men came along to shoot up all those men and get Marty out of there, you can bet they have more planned. And we can't count on help right now. Those lawmen who could have helped are off on another pursuit of the Daltons. With Dexter dead, it's just you and me.”

Jake reached out and asked Lloyd to help him get up. He grimaced as he rose. “Were any instructions wired to us?”

“Just the obvious—track down Marty Bryant, which I'm sure you already plan to do. Their tracks led on south.” He looked his father over. “I can see you're still in pain. You shouldn't be standing, Pa.”

“I'm fine!” Jake barked. “And tracks leading south are a decoy. They'll come back this way because they want us—you and me.”