Jeff savored the opportunity to observe Harkner without having to approach him directly … yet. He searched for the right words to describe the man who’d made a name for himself in all the wrong ways yet had become nothing short of a hero in the eyes of the common man. How did someone who was at one time so lawless and ruthless become so well-liked?
Notorious reputation, he quickly scribbled on his ever-handy note-pad. The way he carries himself – still a tall, slim, solid, hard-edged man with a look about him. What was that look? Danger. That was it. Like nitroglycerine - one wrong move and it explodes. …
Jeff carefully mingled into the crowd that followed the marshal toward the jailhouse. It was obvious some of them just wanted to be near Jake Harkner so they could brag about knowing him. Fact was, Jeff wouldn’t mind having bragging rights himself, except his would be that he was the only man who’d convinced Jake Harkner to let him write a book about him. …
Harkner wore the signature duster of a U.S. Marshal. He removed the coat, reaching around to lay it over his horses’s rump. Now Jeff could see his weapons – the infamous Colt .44 revolvers holstered on each hip, a Colt lightening magazine rifle and a sawed-off ten-gauge shotgun resting in loops on either side of his saddle. An extra cartridge belt hung across the man’s chest, and a third hand gun rested in a holster behind the marshal’s back. … Those prisoners he brought in who were still alive were in a bad way. … One had a bloody bandage around his forehead with dried blood on the side of his face. Another wore an eye patch and looked ready to fall off his horse. The third prisoner just hung his head but occasionally gave Harkner a dark look of hatred. The left sleeve of his shirt showed a huge blood stain. …
The hard lines about Harkner’s eyes bespoke a man who’d led a very rough life. Everything about him spelled toughness – a man with not a soft spot on him.
«««««
Then … there she was. Jeff had never met her, but the woman hurrying down the street from the other end of town had to be Miranda Harkner. … The look of both relief and concern in her eyes said it all. After many years together, the woman was still very much in love with Jake Harkner. So small! Jeff quickly wrote. I expected a stout and somber woman. She was somehow bigger in my imagination. How does such a tiny woman handle a man like Jake Harkner?
(The moment he saw her) the rugged, dangerous-looking Harkner halted his horse and dismounted, removing the extra belt slung over his shoulder and hanging it around his horse’s neck. He threw down his cigarette and walked up to the woman. … In a surprisingly gentle move, Jake put an arm around her shoulders and led her a few feet away. She smiled at him, and Jeff could hardly believe it when Harkner leaned down and kissed her cheek before grasping her arm and gently pushing her aside. “Stay out of the way till I take care of (these men),” he warned.
