Outlaw Hearts by Rosanne Bittner Page A

saddled,” she answered, turning to the trunk with the faded flowers on top and raising the lid. She took out clean blankets. “If anyone notices, I’ll tell them I don’t know where he belongs—that he strayed here from somewhere. It happens all the time—other farmers’ horses get loose. You left town so fast yesterday, I don’t think anyone even knew what kind of horse you were riding. I didn’t know myself until I found him in the shed.” There was a moment of silence as she kept working.
    â€œWhere’s that rifle of yours?” he asked then.
    Miranda glanced up at him. The man was all power and experience. “Hidden in the other room.” She returned to tucking blankets. “I figured you were in no condition to manage to ransack a room to find it or your own guns, and I don’t imagine you would even be very effective in trying to hurt me. I simply decided to take a chance on your present weakness.” She quickly remade the bed, amazed at how she was able to carry on a conversation with a killer, still wondering why she was bothering to help him. She finished and stepped back. “There. You can lie back down.”
    She moved to the doorway, and Jake watched her a moment, seeing the fear then. She had let her guard down for a moment. A big, strong, naked man was standing in her bedroom, a man with a reputation as a killer and rapist. She must feel awfully vulnerable herself, he thought. He had never been in such an odd situation with a proper woman before. Why did he feel this sudden compassion for her? “Look, lady, you can believe me…or not. I didn’t do…what that bounty hunter said. I have killed men…but mostly out of…self-defense…men wanting to challenge me when I’d rather be left alone. I’ve done a lot of wrong things…and I expect I deserve prison for it…but I’ve never laid a hand wrongly on a woman, never beat one, never raped one, proper…or not. Fact is…part of the trouble I’m in is…because I tried to help a woman…more than once. You don’t have to be afraid of me. That’s…the God’s truth. All I want is to get well…and get out of here.”
    Their eyes held, and in spite of the honesty in his own, Miranda told herself she was crazy to believe him. “ God , Mr. Harkner? Do you really believe in a God?”
    He winced with pain as he unsteadily walked to the bed. “Oh, I believe in him. I just…don’t happen to believe he…gives a damn about me. I expect…he long ago gave directions to make sure…I go straight to hell once I die.” He grunted as he managed to lie back down, his feet again sticking out the end of the bed. “Not that most of my life…right here on earth hasn’t been hell already.”
    Miranda spread another blanket over him. “You said some things last night when you were in pain that make me wonder about you, Mr. Harkner. I guess curiosity is part of the reason I’m not ready to turn you over to the law.”
    She opened a second blanket and spread that over the first. “Curiosity?” Jake put a hand to his aching head. “About what?”
    She folded her arms and stepped back. “Who is Santana?” Miranda almost regretted the question when she saw the pain that came into his eyes. “You said her name last night, more than once.”
    Jake closed his eyes. “She’s just someone I knew once.”
    â€œI think maybe you loved her.”
    â€œAnd I think maybe it’s none of your business.”
    â€œWhile you are here under my care, and considering your reputation and the fact that I have not turned you over to Sheriff McCleave, everything about you is my business.”
    â€œThen go ahead and get the sheriff,” he grumbled, rubbing at his eyes. “My private life is my private life.”
    â€œIs she one of the women you tried