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Authors: Rosanne Bittner

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BOOK: Love's Sweet Revenge
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Forty-two

For two days they traveled in near silence, a soft snowfall enshrouding them, the snow on the ground muffling all sound except for the swish of the horses' hooves and the gentle clink and squeak of saddles and tack. Jake and Lloyd talked only about the ranch, how in spite of the cold, there at least had not been any new snowstorms, hoping they hadn't lost too many cattle this winter. To relieve the horses, they traded Randy back and forth, both worried about how, after behaving strong and just fine in front of the boys, she'd fallen back into near silence and at times didn't even seem fully aware of all that had happened. She was back to wanting only Jake and once cried so hard when Jake handed her over to Lloyd that Lloyd had to convince her in her confusion that he was Jake and she was safe. Both men ached over how weak and worn and bruised she was. She cried out with pain every time they moved her around, and she constantly shivered from cold no matter how many blankets they wrapped around her. Last night, when they had to sleep on the ground, they wrapped her in her rabbit coat and extra blankets and made her sleep between them.

To Jake's relief, they reached the line shack before dark the second day. Charlie McGee was there waiting. He'd been ordered to bring supplies up to the cabin when Jake and Lloyd left with the others to find Randy.

“Oh my God,” he muttered when the two men arrived, a bundle of something in Jake's arms. He knew who it had to be. He was glad they'd found Randy, but the way Jake held her and the way she was silently curled against him didn't look good. He glanced at Lloyd.

“I'll explain when we leave,” Lloyd told him. “Did you bring everything?”

“Yes, sir. There's plenty of wood stacked inside, lots of canned goods, pots and pans, a small barrel of water, and even flour and whatever she might need if she wants to make some of that famous bread. We didn't know, but maybe after whatever happened she'd feel better if she could bake or something.” He shrugged. “Hell, I don't know. We even brought up a Dutch oven. I waited here to make sure somebody showed up. I'm glad to see you and Jake are okay.”

Lloyd dismounted, and Jake handed Randy down to him. “Thanks, Charlie. Did you bring extra clothes? Blankets?”

“Yes, sir. And I've got a good fire goin'. I slept on the floor so's not to mess up the—” He glanced at Jake as Jake dismounted. “Well, I just didn't want to mess things up is all.” He hurried up the steps to open the door for Lloyd, who carried his mother inside. Jake paused to light a cigarette. “Take care of my horse, Charlie. Is there feed in that shed over there?”

“Yes, sir. We thought of pretty much everything. There's some ammunition inside, too, both for your rifle and your .44s, just in case you need them. Hell, a storm could come over the mountains and bury you here. You might need to hunt for your food or fend off a bear.”

“Yeah, well, you might not see us for a while either way.” He took a deep drag on the cigarette. “You ride back with Lloyd. The last thing I need right now is to get home and find out something happened to him on the way home. It's none too early for grizzlies to be out snooping around, and wolves are pretty hungry after a long winter.”

“Yes, sir. I hear them howling every night.”

Jake thought how he'd heard wolves howling before dark a time or two last fall. It wasn't normal to hear wolves in the daytime, and the sound had seemed so ominous. Now he knew why.

“You okay, Jake? Midnight kicked you pretty hard the night of the fire, and God knows what's happened since. Ain't my business.”

“I'm all right…physically.” He kept the cigarette between his lips. “They're all dead, in case you're wondering. And they were never here. Understand?”

Charlie nodded, scratching at a several-days'-old stubble on his face. “I kinda figured that.”

Jake studied the man. Charlie wasn't all that old. He was of medium build and inconsequential looks—just another ranch hand. “I don't know a damn thing about you, Charlie, and I don't want to know. You could be a damn bank robber, or maybe you ran off with some man's wife. It doesn't matter to me. I read a man pretty good, and I'm glad to know I was right about you being one of the good ones. I know better than anybody that a man's past doesn't mean a damn thing in the present. Thanks for hanging around and making sure of all this.”

Charlie grinned a little. “Actually, it's the latter.”

“What's that?”

“I
did
run off with another man's wife, but she went back. I kept all the money we stole from him, though. Somewhere out there is a real pissed-off husband who'd like to beat the hell out of me.”

Jake grinned. “Well, you're safe on the J&L.”

Charlie sobered. “She wasn't nothin' like that woman in there, Jake. Not many women
are
like her. The shape the missus is in, I expect somethin' bad happened, and you gotta know that every man back home is hopin' she'll be okay and wishin' they could have had a hand in dealin' with them that hurt her. It won't never be brought up in front of her, and nobody's gonna say anything about them bein' here. You don't need no more of that kind of trouble.”

Lloyd came out onto the porch. He lit his own cigarette. “She's already sleeping again. I laid her on the bed, and she was out like a snuffed lantern.” He came down the steps. “Charlie, let's put up Midnight, and you and I can get some riding in yet before it's completely dark. We can be back home by midday tomorrow. Right now, I'm real anxious to see my Katie.”

Charlie grinned again. “Sure can't blame you there. You Harkner men sure know how to pick 'em. Are the boys okay?”

“They're good,” Lloyd told him. “Still bruised up, but we let them help in their own way, and I think that made them feel better about this whole thing.” He came all the way down the steps. “They're in a bit of trouble, though, that's going to take some discipline. Little Jake decided to sneak off with one of Cole's extra six-guns and tried to join in the shoot-out. Brian is pretty upset with him.”

“I'll bet! That kid is Jake reborn. He's going to be a handful for poor Brian and Evie.”

“Yeah, well, Cole isn't happy he took that gun. I think he put the scare into Little Jake. The kid won't be trying something like that again anytime soon.” Lloyd took a drag on his cigarette. “Go ahead and tend to Midnight, will you?”

“Oh, sure!”

Jake took his saddlebags and bedroll from Midnight, along with his rifle. Charlie walked the horse to a nearby shed, and Jake turned to Lloyd. “You be careful going back.”

Lloyd nodded. “I'm going to send someone up here every couple of days just to make sure you and Mom are still okay.”

“I'm a big boy, Lloyd. We'll be fine.”

“Just the same. This can be mean country this time of year. And if something happens to Midnight, you'd be on foot. Besides that, by the time you come home, you'll need an extra horse, so I'll have somebody bring one up, along with more supplies.”

“You reassure Evie that your mother will be all right. I hate for her to have to revisit something like this. You tell her that if anybody can make things better for Randy Harkner, it's me. And tell her I'm okay. I'm not going to go crazy or anything.”

Lloyd smiled sadly. “You're doing better than I thought you would. This is when you usually leave. You stay with her and be strong for her. You can't leave this time, thinking she's better off—and she can't see any fear or doubt in your eyes. She has to see the man—the
man
. Not the terrified, sorry little boy that shows in your eyes sometimes. She knows you like a book, Pa, and if she thinks for one minute you're blaming yourself for this or you're going into that dark place, she'll be devastated. When you're like that, she's the one who has to be strong, and right now she's
not
strong, so
you
have to be! Do you know what I'm saying?”

Jake smiled a little. “You getting ready to hit me again?”

“I will if I have to beat some sense into you. I know how you think sometimes, but you have to rise above that…for
her
. This is not your fault. It's not my fault. It's not
anyone's
fault. It just…
is
, and you can make it better. You're the
only
one who can bring her around.”

Jake took one last drag on the cigarette, then threw it down and stepped it out. “Go home to Katie, Lloyd. Your mother and I will be fine.”

Lloyd just stood there a minute. “You're sure?”

“I'm sure.”

Lloyd's eyes teared. “You've lived one hell of a tough life, Jake Harkner. Not many men have been as beat up and dragged around their whole goddamn life like you have. Don't think I don't understand how sometimes it's hard as hell to climb out of all the shit and see the good. You think Mom is your rock, but you're the foundation of her strength. She needs you way more than you've ever realized. I've seen it in her eyes and heard it in her voice the times she thought she might lose you. And truth be known…” His voice broke on the words, and he turned away, heading for his horse. “I don't know what I'd do without you either.” He mounted up. “You can be such a pain in the ass sometimes, Pa, but I'll be damned if I can ever stay mad at you.” He turned his horse. “Tell Charlie he'll have to catch up. You take care of my mother. And you remember that the best revenge is to love her and take her back. They couldn't change that, Pa. Revenge can be sweet, and it doesn't always mean needing a gun.”

Lloyd rode off, and Jake watched after him, wondering how in hell he'd produced such a wise and solid son. The last three days he'd so lovingly helped take care of Randy tore at his heart.
One thing is sure
, he thought.
When something does happen to me, Randy Harkner will be in damn good hands.

He turned and looked at the cabin door. He was alone in this. Randy was in there, and she needed him like never before. He said a rare, quick prayer for the strength he would need.
Just put the right words in my mouth, Lord. I don't pray often, but I'm doing it now. Evie says you even listen to men like me, so I'm counting on that.

He thought about the last time they were here, how happy they were, how sweet the lovemaking was, how they'd teased each other.
I don't just love you
, he'd told her.
I worship you. I adore you.
She'd loved hearing that. And he'd meant every damn word.

Forty-three

For four days, Randy mostly slept…and slept. Jake literally had to wake her up and make her eat and drink something, but she was unnervingly quiet. She'd turned to saying almost nothing, and when he pressed her to talk, she'd turn away and curl into the blankets. When she had to urinate, he picked her up and carried her out to the privy, which to his relief he could tell Charlie had scrubbed. It warmed his heart to think what the men thought of Randy.

Most of the time, Randy's only words were “Don't let go of me.” So Jake slept with her, holding her close. He dared to get up only when he was sure she was in a deep sleep and wouldn't cry out for him. His inner struggle made his chest hurt. Lloyd was gone, and there was no one with whom to share this agony. Always before, this was about himself or someone else, and he could always turn to Randy for comfort and support.

This time it was about Randy, and there was no one to lean on. In all his years of ruthless handling of men, he'd never felt so helpless. It was up to him now to face this worst hurt and devastation on his own. It was his turn to be the emotionally strong one, and that was one area in which he'd never felt strong.

He was alone with his thoughts, alone against the blackness that tried to destroy his will. There was nothing to do but stoke the fire, make more coffee, smoke, and, once in a while, tend to Midnight. The only thing left to pass the time was to read, and his very clever, conniving, Christian daughter had made sure the only thing around for that was a Bible. Jake knew it was her way of loving him and trying to show him the only answer was to turn to God and the Good Book.

Reluctantly, he picked it up and thumbed through it, grinning at knowing Evie could be as mischievous and cunning as he could—or Lloyd—or Little Jake—but in a much different way. She was so much stronger than people gave her credit for, and it was this book that gave her that strength. He wondered if it could do the same for him. For years, he'd fought the goodness Evie swore existed in his soul. His father's railings about how worthless he was had never left him and probably never would, but it was nice to think others saw that little bit of worth in him—and no one believed in him more than Evie…and Randy. Now he didn't know what to do with the one woman with whom he'd been so intimate for so many years—this woman who now was shutting him out when she wasn't begging him not to let go of her.

What did that mean?
Don't let go of me.
He was beginning to think she meant more than not letting go of her physically. Maybe she meant that she didn't want him to let go of the Randy she was before all of this…the Randy who gave herself to him so willingly and freely and with such desire and pleasure…and with so much love.

Revenge is sweet
, Lloyd had told him,
and it doesn't always mean needing a gun.

Jake opened the Bible, not even sure why. Damned if Evie didn't get to him even when she wasn't around. The Bible practically fell open to the Book of Ruth. He felt completely inept at this and didn't want Randy to catch him reading it, but when he glanced at her, damned if she wasn't lying there, watching him. She held his gaze.

“Perhaps what I've been through is making me hallucinate,” she told him, her voice weak. “I could swear my husband is reading the Bible.”

Jake grinned, wondering if he dared think she was getting some of her spunk back.

“Well, all you do is sleep, and it's snowing out, so I'm getting restless and bored. I had to do
some
thing, and our very devious daughter made sure a Bible was the only book included in the supplies they brought up here. I'd gladly read Hawthorne or Dickens or one of those other fancy books you always talk about.”

“Is that so? Why don't you tell me the
real
reason you're reading that book?”

He watched her closely.
God help me say the right things.
He shrugged. “Evie always says that when she has a problem or is feeling down, she prays about it and then picks this thing up and reads the first thing she turns to. It almost always helps her find the answer.”

“You
praye
d
?”

“Maybe.”

Randy smiled a little. “There's no
maybe
to that question, Jake. You
did
pray.”

“You think you know everything about me, but you don't know half of it.”

“I guess that's one of the secrets you keep that we talked about.”

“I guess so.”

“And what's the first Bible passage you turned to?”

He struggled not to break down. He wanted to rush over and grab her close and beg her to come back to him in spirit. “Well, I'm not so sure it was a chance thing. I can tell Evie bent this back a little too much so it would fall open to this spot, the Book of Ruth. On top of that, she underlined something.” Was she really studying him lovingly? What the hell was he supposed to do?

“Read it, Jake.”

He sighed again and ran a hand through his hair. “It's, uh, right in the first chapter, verse sixteen.”

Randy knew the verse and spoke it for him. “
And Ruth said, Intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God. Where thou diest, will I die, and there will be buried: the Lord do so to me, and more also, if ought but death part thee and me.

Jake closed the Bible and set it aside. He just sat there, leaning forward, saying nothing.

“That's how I've always felt, Jake. All the times you tried to leave, I wanted to go with you. You've never understood that a hard life
with
you meant so much more to me than an easy one without you. I think Evie wanted you to read that because she knows that no matter what happens, we belong together. We have followed each other to hell and back, and here we are…just you and me. Some day when one of us dies, the other will die soon after, because we can't be without each other. And we'll be buried…right up here at this line shack…where we can see the J&L below us.” Her voice broke, and she put a shaking hand to her mouth.

“Talk about it, Randy.” Jake didn't make a move toward her. “All these years you've told me I shouldn't keep things inside—that I should talk about it. It took me years to finally open up about my father to you—years longer to open up about him to Lloyd and Evie—even longer to tell the grandkids. Don't let this fester and change you from the vibrant, joyful, gracious woman I've lived with for the last thirty years.”

She jerked with sobs. “I just…want you to make it…go away.”

He still didn't move, petrified he'd break the spell. “Tell me how. I don't want to do one thing you aren't ready for or one thing that will make you retreat back into that shell.”

“But you're my Jake. You know how to…make it go away. You always make it beautiful.” She pulled a blanket closer around her face. “You never asked me…in all our years together…to do anything…like that. You probably did that with those…other women…but—”

“Randy!” He spoke her name firmly. “There is a big difference between just feeling good and feeling…I don't know…satisfied in so many other ways. I'd
never
use you like that! In all these years, I've never used you just to feel good. It's always been so much more. Even that first time in that wagon, I felt crazy with the want of you—
all
of you—the whole woman. I knew how dangerous it was to feel like that for a woman I didn't deserve. If it was just to feel good, I could have left and done that at any brothel, but it was so much more than that. I didn't want it to be just a good time with a lonely widow woman. That's why I fought it. That's why I tried to make you hate me. I knew that if I gave in to those feelings, I'd be lost forever, and you'd learn what hell is like, and you were too good and sweet for that. Hell was
me
! And once I gave in to that weak moment, I knew the least I could do was always make it special and beautiful and that I would never do anything with you that you wouldn't like or anything that would make you feel used or disgraced or dishonored. Every time I touch you, it's because I honor you and need you and adore you and love you more than my own life.”

She didn't answer right away. She just watched him, crying. “Jake, when you first rode away—back in Kansas—I cried and cried,” she finally said. “I didn't want you to go. I was so scared, heading west alone. And then that awful…trading post…and that snakebite. And then…there you were!” She wiped at tears as she sat up, moving to the edge of the bed. “When I heard your voice…and I felt you lifting me up…I thought,
It's Jake. It's my Jake.
It didn't matter that we'd never…done anything yet. I wasn't even thinking about that. I just felt so…so incredibly safe. And that first time…” She covered her face. “I just wanted to be a part of Jake Harkner. I wanted to share your soul, Jake. I wanted us to melt into each other and just be one. It's like you said. It meant so much more than just feeling good. You've always…made it so nice and so…beautiful…and they went and—”

She felt him lifting her, pulling her into his arms so her feet were off the floor. She wrapped her arms around his neck and cried. “Do you know…how much I love you for…never asking for more…than I could give?”

“All I've ever asked for is that you love me,
mi querida
. It's your love that makes me feel good—your love that pleases me.”

“Take me back, Jake. I want it to be like it used to be,” she sobbed. “You know how. My Jake knows how.”

“You're all bruised up. I'll hurt you.”

“You would never hurt me. You're always so gentle and kind and—”

“Hush,
mi amor
.” He found a corner of her mouth and kissed it lightly.

She turned her face enough that his lips found hers fully.

He kissed her ever so lightly. “I don't want to hurt you,” he repeated.

“I'm all right,” she wept.

“I don't want you to be afraid.”

“I'm with you. Why would I be afraid?”

He carried her to the bed and laid her on it, moving on top of her. He'd spent most of the day inside and wore only long johns with a shirt. He'd kept the fire stoked, and the room was warm and the light growing dim as the sun began to settle behind the mountains. He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a short stick of peppermint. “Will this help?”

“Oh, Jake!” She cried more, actually smiling through her tears. “Yes.”

Jake put the peppermint into her mouth and came close to take the other end. He rested on his elbows, afraid to put his weight on her. He grasped her hair along with putting his hands on either side of her face, and they each bit off their share of the peppermint and chewed it, holding each other's gaze and smiling in spite of the fact that Randy also couldn't stop crying. Jake kissed her more deeply. “Look at me and tell me who you belong to, Randy.”

Tears continued to pour from her eyes and sometimes into her ears. “You.”

“Say my name.”

“Jake.”

“Who do you belong to?”

“Jake Harkner.”

“Every beautiful inch of you, including this delicate face.” He kissed her bruised cheeks, kissed her wet eyes, licked at her tears. “And including these beautiful lips.” He traced a thumb over her lips then reached over to a nightstand and grabbed a clean handkerchief he'd left there, hoping there were enough left to continue soaking up all her tears. “Here. You're a mess of tears, and it's hard to kiss you this way.”

Randy actually laughed lightly. She blew her nose and wiped at her eyes.

“I have something else for you,” Jake told her. “Stay right here under me. I love having you under me.” He reached over and opened the one drawer of the nightstand, taking out a sachet. He sniffed it deeply then held it to her nose.

“Jake! My rose petals!”

“A few weeks ago, I found out where you keep them. Before we left to find you, I told Evie to pack this. I thought it would help comfort you.”

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. “Oh yes, it
is
comforting!” She started crying again. “Oh, Jake, you thought of everything!”

“How well do I know you?”

“Better than I thought.” She inhaled deeply again, then kissed the sachet. “You're a man of incredible contrasts, Jake Harkner. Who would ever think a man like you would think of something like this?”

“No one knows how much I love you.” He kissed her eyes again. “I'm so sorry, Randy. The other night should never have happened. I'll never leave you unprotected again.”

“It wasn't your fault.” A hint of terror moved through her eyes, and she laid the sachet aside. “Jake, take back what they did. You know how.”

He kissed her lips ever so lightly again.

“Make me yours, Jake. Take it all back.” She jerked in a sob. “I can trust you,” she whispered.

He kissed her again, licking her lips, running his tongue inside them, moving his tongue ever so carefully into her mouth as the kiss grew deeper. She returned the kiss almost desperately, as though taking his mouth into hers would take away the other…the ugly…the violent and the vile. He let her pull on his mouth in her attempt to let him “take it back,” and he knew she meant he should take back her mouth, her lips, the violation. She belonged to Jake Harkner. Even her mouth belonged to Jake Harkner, and only he should touch it.

He lingered at her mouth, kissing, tasting, cleansing it with his tongue, taking back what belonged to Jake Harkner. She wore only a robe, and he pushed it aside…very gently…very cautiously…carefully caressing her breasts, her belly. Finally, he left her mouth and kissed at her bruises—her chin, her neck, her breasts.

BOOK: Love's Sweet Revenge
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