Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

J ake removed the rope from around Midnight's neck and gave the horse an affectionate pat on his rump. The horse wasted no time racing toward the opposite side of the training ring, as far away from Jake as he could get. Teddy had been correct. Midnight had heart, but he also had an abundance of stubbornness and a reluctance to learn. He fought…everything. All he wanted to do was run.

He took off his hat, wiped the sweat from his brow, placed it firmly back on his head, and headed toward the fence where Evie, Teddy, and Antonio watched his training progress…or lack thereof, exhaustion and lack of faith in the job he was trying to do dogging his steps. It didn't help that he could think of nothing but King since Father O'Malley's visit. The threat of him colored everything he did. And maybe that was Midnight's issue. The horse obviously felt the tension within him. It was almost impossible not to.

"If he hates the rope this much, imagine how much he'll hate the reins and the saddle," he announced as he approached them.

"Some horses take longer to train, Jake. You're doing fine." Teddy offered. "He'll be magnificent when his training is done."

"If you say so." He flexed his hand and wiggled the fingers on both hands, trying to get rid of the cramping, then climbed through the railings of the fence. "Cinnamon was much easier."

"That's because she liked you." Evie said, as she laid her hand against his cheek. "Midnight hasn't made up his mind yet."

"Don't let him see how frustrated you're becoming," Antonio said. "That'll make?—"

The man's comment was cut off by the sound of thundering hooves as a horse and rider raced into the barnyard. "Who is that? And why is he riding hell-bent for leather?"

"It's Ben." Teddy started away from the fence at a run, followed closely by Antonio.

"What's Ben doing here?" Evie asked aloud, as the horse and rider drew closer, close enough to see the sweat on the horse's flesh…and the terror on Ben's face. "Something's wrong. Something's happened to Lucy." Her face lost all color as they ran forward.

Ben sawed on the reins then jumped from the saddle before the horse even came to a halt. Antonio caught the reins, easing the mare to a stop. Breathless, sweating profusely, Ben had a cut on his lip and his eye was red and swelling, almost completely closed. "Eric King has Lucy!"

Jake knew this day would come—hell, the eventuality had been hanging over him for months, like a hangman's noose hovering over his head—he just never expected King would stoop so low as to involve an innocent like Lucy.

"What happened?" Teddy demanded, his face reddening, anger making his voice tight.

Ben shook his head, his eyes shiny with unshed tears. "King and his men…just barged into the house…as I was leaving to see a patient who couldn't make it to town." He wiped the blood still trickling from his mouth, gasping so hard, he could hardly speak. "I wasn't expecting them. I'm embarrassed to admit it only took one punch to bring me to my knees."

Jake stiffened, guilt for the situation he'd put Lucy in—put them all in— overwhelming him. His heart hammered in his chest as his gaze shot to Evie. She hadn't said a word, but she didn't have to. Fear was there on her pale face. "Did they hurt her?"

"Slapped her once or twice. She fought them like a wildcat though." His voice was tight. "I've never seen her so angry. She throws a mean left hook and got one of King's men in the jaw. Scratched him, too. It didn't stop him from overpowering her."

"How do you know it was King?" Jake asked, though he had no doubt in his mind. Who else would hold Lucy hostage? The Silvas had no enemies. Only he did. And he brought this on them.

"Cocky son of a bitch introduced himself as proud as you please. Said he knew who we were, knew where you were, said he was going to win his money back no matter what it took."

Evie finally spoke though her voice quivered. "And they just let you go?"

"I was to deliver a message." Ben nodded, then directed his statement to Jake. "He said to meet him at the Silver Spur Saloon at noon and he'll let Lucy go."

He didn't have a choice and he knew it. King had made sure of that. He held all the cards.

He reached for Evie's hand, threading her fingers between his. "I'm sorry, Evie."

She glanced at his hand then up at his face, her eyes as dark as storm clouds on the horizon. "You're going to meet him."

"I have to. He won't let Lucy go if I don't."

Her gaze roamed his face as a single tear rolled down her cheek. "He'll kill you."

He gently wiped the wetness away with his thumb.

"King isn't going to kill anyone," Teddy stated. "We'll make sure of it. It'll be just like we planned at our family meeting, only with a few changes, the most important one is that we save Lucy first." He turned toward Antonio. "Ride out to the summer pasture for Heath and Esteban. Tell them what happened and get back here as quickly as you can. We're heading into town."

Evie peeked inside through the kitchen window of Lucy's house, her heart in her throat, hoping that King's men hadn't moved her to another location after they sent Ben to the ranch with King's message. Conflicted and nervous, part of her wanted to save Lucy, the other wanted to be with Jake, though she was supposed to be comforted knowing Esteban would make sure no harm would come to him. Still, all that did was make her worry about the both of them. She had lost too many people she loved to men like King and his thugs. It didn't ease her terror.

Perspiration from the ride into town made her skin clammy but it was fear that made her hands shake and bile rise to her throat.

The plan, quickly revised from the original, was to ride into town and split into groups. Evie, Uncle Charley, Heath, Ben, and Teddy would free Lucy while Jake and Esteban met with King, and Antonio went to report the situation to the Marshal.

It hadn't been a plan she liked—none of them did—but it would have to work. If nothing else, they had the element of surprise, though she was certain King's men were alert to the possibility someone would try to rescue Lucy. Her hope was they could get her out of the house before King's men even knew she was gone, then let the Marshal and his deputies take the men into custody.

That's what she wanted to happen. Whether it did or not remained to be seen, but there was one thing she knew for certain—she wasn't about to lose either Lucy or Jake without a fight.

"Do you see her?" Uncle Charley whispered as he crept up beside her, startling her. Before she could respond or stop the thunderous pounding of her heart, her attention was drawn to Heath and Ben climbing the stairs to the second-floor veranda, their footsteps barely making any sound on the wooden risers. Teddy was at the front of the house, also looking in windows, trying to locate where King's men were keeping Lucy. She hoped Antonio, as well as the Marshal and his deputies, were on their way.

"No, she must be somewhere else," she whispered finally. But where? In the parlor? One of the upstairs bedrooms? The dining room? It was a big house, with part of the first floor set aside for Ben's office, the room where he saw his patients, and a small sitting room where other patients waited for their turn to see him.

Lucy could be anywhere.

Evie moved from the window to the back door, Charley following closely. She had no gun, no knife, nothing to protect herself with except her wits. She heard footsteps above and hoped that it was Heath and Ben letting themselves into the house and not one of King's men coming out to the veranda to look around. She listened closely, but heard nothing else…no screams of surprise, no thumps and thuds of a scuffle. "Are you ready?"

Uncle Charley gave a slight nod as she reached for the doorknob, twisted it slowly and eased the door open, thankful the hinges didn't squeal. She took several steps into the kitchen and froze, her heart nearly stopping as conversation drew her attention from the dining room just beyond. She clearly heard Lucy's voice and that of a man, but there was no yelling, no threats being issued. Surprisingly, they were discussing—of all things—photography.

Smart girl. Only Lucy could draw someone, even her abductor, into a polite conversation about her favorite hobby.

She advanced into the hallway, keeping her back against the wall. The staircase leading to the second floor was on her right and she glanced up, almost expecting someone to be standing there, keeping watch. Her heart in her throat, she crept further along the wall.

The pocket doors to the dining room were wide open. She peeked around the corner and caught sight of Lucy tied to one of cushioned chairs at the dining table. Her hands were tied as well, but they were in front of her so she could sip at the cup of coffee placed before her. She didn't appear hurt, other than a reddened spot on her cheek that resembled a handprint. There was a man in the room with her—big, broad of shoulder, well-dressed, his dark hair curling at the nape of his neck, but his back was to the doorway. He held up one of Lucy's cameras, turning it this way and that, inspecting it, clearly curious, before placing it on the table.

Catching Lucy's attention, she held her finger to her lips, warning her to be quiet then mouthed, How many?

Lucy, her eyes wide, tapped her finger against the teacup clutched in her hands once, then raised her gaze toward the ceiling.

"Are the ropes too tight?" the man asked suddenly, his voice seemingly full of regret. Perhaps, he didn't want to be holding Lucy hostage. Perhaps, he could be reasoned with. Hope flared in her heart.

"A little. I have pins and needles in my hands."

"If I loosen the ropes, will you promise not to try anything?"

Lucy's mouth spread into a charming smile, one meant to disarm. She nodded, her glance taking on that innocent gleam Evie knew so well. "I promise. I could even show you how to take photographs if you free me."

Uncle Charley nudged her shoulder. She turned her head around to see Charley point toward Teddy coming out of the little room where Ben saw his patients, his guns drawn. He wasn't a crack shot like Esteban, but he was good enough. She waved a little, drawing his attention, then pointed into the dining room and held up two fingers. Lucy , she mouthed, one other . She raised her gaze toward the ceiling as Lucy had done and raised a finger, letting him know there was one more person upstairs, though she had no doubt Heath and Ben had or would take care of him. There was no noise from the upper floor, not even footsteps.

Teddy moved toward her on feet as silent as a puma, anger tightening his lips. He entered the dining room just as Lucy's captor rose to his feet and moved toward her, Evie hoped with the intention of removing the ropes around her hands.

"I wouldn't move if I were you," Teddy warned as he pressed the bore of the gun into the man's back, the fabric of his suit jacket puckering against the metal.

"Shit!" the man exclaimed but didn't move. "Don't shoot me. I didn't hurt her."

"Then who put that red mark on her cheek? Looks like somebody slapped her." Teddy asked in response to his statement, his tone deep and angry.

The man shook his head. "That was Ballard, not me. I'd never hurt a woman."

"Are you all right?" Evie rushed into the room and quickly untied Lucy's hands and removed the rope holding her to the chair. She drew her niece into her arms and held her tight, the relief rushing through her making her knees weak and her throat constrict with gratitude.

Lucy nodded as she withdrew from the hug and rubbed at her wrists. "I'm fine. Angry, but fine. I knew you'd come." She paused for a moment to gain her balance, then bombarded them with questions. "How's Ben? Is he all right? What's happening with Jake? Did he win?"

"Ben is fine. He's upstairs with Heath," she said, as she tossed the ropes to Charley and nodded toward the man Teddy held at gunpoint. "Tie him up."

Lucy approached her jailer and, incredibly, smiled at him as Charley tied his hands behind his back. "You know, Harris, I think you're in the wrong business. You seem to be a nice man, despite holding me against my will. At least you were kind, unlike your partner." She smoothed her fingers against her cheek, the one that still held the imprint of a hand. "My advice? Get as far away from Erik King as you possibly can. He'll lead you to nothing but trouble."

"Yes, ma'am." Harris had the good graces to hang his head in shame. "I am sorry, Miss Lucy."

A startled shout came from upstairs then utter silence, causing all of them to look up toward the ceiling, each one of them holding their breaths, waiting, wondering who had yelled. Lucy grabbed her hand, squeezing it tight. She didn't say a word, but she didn't need to—fear drained the color from her face, leaving the handprint on her cheek to stand out in stark relief. "Ben," she whispered, and rushed into the hallway, pulling Evie along with her. Charley followed, as did Teddy and the man Lucy had called Harris.

A few minutes later, though it seemed like an eternity, Ben and Heath led the other man downstairs, his hands held straight up, the risers creaking under the weight of the three of them. There were scratches on the man's face, four of them, like someone had raked their fingernails against the skin. They no longer oozed, but still looked raw and painful. Below the scratches, a bruise was starting to form.

Evie turned toward Lucy. Pride made tears spring to her eyes, knowing her niece had defended herself, proving she was no helpless miss. She'd learned well, growing up with three brothers.

Lucy grabbed the second rope from Charley's hand and moved toward the man. She handed the rope to Ben as soon as the trio left the staircase. "Tie him up. Let's see how he likes it."

Ben made quick work of tying the man's hands behind his back, as Heath holstered his gun. Lucy stared at the man, her anger seeming to stifle the air around them. "I told you your plan wouldn't work. I warned you what would happen." Then, without another word, she slapped the man across the face, the sound like a crack of thunder as hand connected with flesh. The man staggered from the force of the blow and growled low in his throat but didn't say a word.

Evie watched the tableau before her still watering eyes, surprised their haphazard plan had worked so well. On the heels of that thought, she yelled, "Jake!"

"Go!" Teddy told her. "We'll meet you at the saloon. Don't go in. Don't distract him in any way."

"I'll go with you, Tia Evie." Heath offered, as he patted the gun in its holster.

Teddy nodded. "That's a better idea."

Evie didn't wait for Heath, she simply strode toward the front door, her heart hammering in her chest, and flung it open. Antonio, the Marshal, and his deputies stood on the front porch, ready, it seemed to enter the house. She jerked her thumb toward the interior of the house then took off at a run, praying Jake was still alive.

Jake pushed open the batwing doors just as the clock at the Town Hall struck noon, and entered the Silver Spur Saloon. Every muscle in his body thrummed with anxiety. He glanced around, the hair on the back on his neck standing up straight. Aside from King, who sat at one of the felt-covered tables in the middle of the room, a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses in front of him, the place was empty. Not even the bartender was in sight, but that didn't mean one of King's henchmen wasn't waiting in the shadows. King never went anywhere without his ‘protection.'

Dread made his stomach twist, and he tightened the grip on the valise he carried as he took another step into the room, allowing the doors to swing closed behind him. "King."

The man had changed since the last time Jake saw him—older, grayer, thinner. The only thing that hadn't changed was the look in his eyes and the arrogant expression on his face. He shuffled the cards in his hand one more time, then laid them on the table, but his intense stare was on Jake. "Did you really think I would let you walk away without giving me the chance to win my money back?" He gestured to the valise. "Is that my money?"

"Every last cent."

"You ready to lose it?" His chilling smile widened just a bit.

Jake didn't answer the question but advanced into the room and dropped the valise on the table. He saw movement to his left and his suspicion was confirmed. King wasn't alone, but it wasn't one of his henchmen moving out of the shadows. It was Oscar, wearing that same arrogant smirk he always did. Jake stiffened, every muscle in his body taut, and he clenched his hands into fists, wanting to wipe the sneer from his face.

"Surprised to see me, bastardo ?" Oscar gloated as he approached the table, then stopped to King's right. His chest puffed out, as if proud of himself.

Jake said nothing. His jaw clenched tight though he tried not to let Oscar—or King—see how rattled the man's presence made him. It didn't stop the questions from colliding in his head though, questions he barely had time to answer. Had they known each other before, or had they just met and decided to both exact revenge at the same time? It didn't matter. The odds of him walking away, win or lose, decreased dramatically. If King didn't kill him, Oscar might.

King laughed without humor, and the chilling smile that intimidated more than one man across the poker table appeared on his face. "I see you already know my associate. Oscar here was instrumental in telling me so many things about your new life."

"I owe you for my broken nose—" Oscar stepped closer, close enough for Jake to smell the pomade he used on his mustache. "And for stealing my woman." His dark eyes seemed to snap with delight at the prospect of revenge for wrongs real or imagined, but his hand trembled as it rested on the handle of the Colt holstered in the gun belt around his waist.

He hadn't known Oscar could shoot. The question remained—would he? He glared at the man and answered his own question. Yes, Oscar would shoot him, without giving it a second thought. He'd probably enjoy it—that is, if Jake gave him the chance. He wouldn't.

Dismissing Oscar, Jake faced King once more, eyeing the man he'd come to loathe.

Movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention. He saw Esteban come in from the back of the saloon and stand silently next to the long mahogany bar, his hands hanging loosely by his sides, his stance relaxed, but his eyes were alert, encompassing the whole room. He, too, wore a gun belt, the leather worn and supple, the pearl handles reflecting the lamplight. Some of Jake's anxiety eased. Esteban would have his back though it surprised him that Esteban even had a gun belt. Surprised him even more to learn the man was a crack shot.

King noticed his entrance as well and leaned back in his chair, eyeing him. "Who's that?"

"A friend."

"Hmmm, I'm surprised you have any friends, Hannigan."

Jake didn't respond to the insult. He pulled out a chair opposite King but didn't sit. "The terms," he stated, his voice surprisingly calm though he felt anything but, "I play this one game, all or nothing, for exactly the amount you lost and I never want to see or hear from you again."

He then focused on Oscar. "As for you—" He didn't finish the sentence, but he didn't have to. The threat was quite clear, and the man backed up a step before he stopped himself. Fear passed over Oscar's face, but it was fleeting, replaced quickly by an expression of derision.

Jake returned his attention to King. "One game and one game only. Win or lose, Lucy goes free."

The gambler committed to nothing. Jake didn't think he would, given the man's outsized ego. But the game hadn't been played, and he still had a card or two up his sleeve. If he remembered correctly, King wasn't given to physical pursuits—he preferred to let others do his dirty work. Jake could take him out with one well-placed punch to the face. Oscar, too, if need be. He just had to be patient, though he didn't feel as if he had an ounce of patience in him.

"Sit. Deal the cards."

"Not until you agree."

King's dark eyes swept over him as he reached into the pocket of his suit jacket.

Jake stiffened, ready to defend himself if King was reaching for the little derringer he carried. He let out his breath in a rush when he saw it wasn't a pistol, but a cigar.

King took his time lighting it. A stall tactic? Or one meant to ratchet up the tension? Definitely the latter, just one more trick in King's arsenal of intimidation.

"Fine. One game and Lucy goes free," he said finally, and gestured to the chair with the cigar. "Now sit. Cut the cards." He drew in on the cigar and blew out a stream of smoke. "You better not lose on purpose, Hannigan."

Jake said nothing as he slid into his seat and reached for the deck of cards on the table. He cut them like he was told then pushed the deck toward King. "You deal."

King shuffled the cards one more time then quickly dealt them, a smug smile parting his lips around the cigar.

Jake picked up the cards one at a time and stifled the groan building in his throat. Perspiration made his shirt stick to his back, and he felt the tickle of sweat as it rolled down his face. At any other time, he would have rejoiced at the cards in his hand, but not now. What were the odds that he would be holding a Royal Flush again, all hearts, the same hand as he had when he won from King the first time? It defied logic and surely meant his death. King wouldn't hesitate to claim he cheated. Hell, King wouldn't hesitate to kill him, and if he didn't, Oscar might.

He glanced across the table and studied King's face, which seemed a little red as he looked at the cards in his hand. If his expression was any indication, he wasn't happy with what he held. He moved the cigar from one side of his mouth to the other and stared at Jake with an intensity worthy of Teddy. "Place your bet."

Jake pushed the valise toward the middle of the table. "All or nothing."

King shook his head. "That's not how it's done, Hannigan."

"It is this time. You agreed. One game and Lucy goes free."

The man took a deep drag on his cigar, then blew out a plume of smoke. He wasn't happy, but that was all right. Jake wasn't here to make him happy. He was here to free Lucy and get out of this alive.

"Show me your cards," King ordered after a moment.

Jake held the cards to his chest then slowly laid the cards on the table and spread them out. The Queen of Hearts seemed to stare right at him.

"You son of a bitch!" King spit out as he looked at the cards, the cigar falling from his mouth to land on the table. If possible, his face turned even redder and his eyes opened wider. "How the hell did you do that?" He jumped up from his seat and reached into his suit jacket pocket, withdrawing the little derringer he always carried. "You…you cheated," he stammered. "There's no way in hell you could have won again with the same damned hand!"

There were two guns pointed at him now—King's little derringer and Oscar's Colt.

"Stand up!" King ordered. "I warned you against cheating."

Jake rose from his seat slowly, his hands hanging down by his side, eyeing his opponent and the gun in his hand. He'd get out of this situation. He had to. For Evie. And the future he wanted. That was worth fighting for. She was worth fighting for.

His mind worked quickly, planning his strategy, waiting for the opportunity to disarm King. All it would take is one well-aimed punch. Just one and he could walk away.

Or should he take down Oscar first? The man was sweating, his dark eyes darting back and forth, the hand holding the gun shaking. "How could I cheat? You dealt the cards."

"No one beats Erik King like that. No one!" Spittle sprayed from King's lips and the little gun in his hand wavered as he gestured.

Jake stood absolutely still, though it took every ounce of his determination. One false move and King could shoot before he had a chance to knock the man on his ass.

"Who are you anyway? A nobody!" Beads of sweat rolled down King's face and his eyes narrowed. "A fucking orphan! No one will miss you when you're gone." He gasped for air and seemed to struggle doing so.

Maybe King would give himself a heart attack. He certainly appeared to be working up toward one.

"No one will care whether you live or die!" The derringer shook in the man's hand as it wavered toward him once again. "I am Erik King!" he all but screamed, then got control of his weapon and pointed it straight at Jake's. "No one does this to Erik King and lives to tell the tale! No one!"

The loud report of the gunshot followed closely by another echoed in the room, making Jake jump. He felt no pain, which was odd. He glanced down at his chest, but no blood blossomed on his shirt. Stunned and confused, he looked up. Neither King nor Oscar were standing. Both were sprawled on the floor. King had a perfect round hole in his forehead and the blood Jake had expected to flow from his own chest flowed from Oscar's instead.

He turned quickly as Esteban joined him, smoke still coming from the barrels of the guns in his hands.

"What did you do?"

Esteban shrugged as he holstered his guns. "He talked too much. I had enough." He inspected his handiwork. "I don't enjoy killing, Jake. It's not something I go out of my way to do, but in this case, they both had it coming. Besides, King wasn't going to let you walk out of here. Saw that much for myself. Neither was Oscar. One of these days, you'll have to tell me what happened between you and him."

Stunned, not only by the amount of words Esteban issued at one time, but by the fact he killed both King and Oscar, Jake could do nothing but stare at him. Relief rushed through him, so swift, so hard, his knees grew weak. That feeling didn't last long. "We need to get Lucy.…"

"Lucy is fine." Esteban gestured toward the batwing doors.

A crowd of people stood in the entrance to the saloon, holding the doors open. No, not a crowd. His family . Lucy, flanked by her brothers, her hand in Ben's, stood in the doorway. She didn't look worse for wear. Yes, tears had stained her cheeks, and she had an ugly mark on her face, but she was alive and well, and apparently very angry. Gratitude that she had been found, unharmed, constricted his throat as his gaze drifted to Teddy, who gave him a slight nod, then to Heath, who flashed a triumphant grin. Antonio looked satisfied, his arm around Charley. The Marshal was there as well, the shiny star pinned to his vest winking in the sunlight. He didn't see King's henchmen. He assumed they were in jail, exactly where they belonged.

His gaze scanned the crowd, looking for Evie. And then he saw her as she moved into his sight. His Evie. There were tears on her face too, but her smile was warm and encouraging. And appeared to be only for him. Love swelled his heart, making it beat a little faster. He started walking toward her, toward his future.

"Don't forget your money," Esteban said, as he jerked his thumb to the valise on the table.

Jake backed up a step, grabbed the valise by the handles, and headed toward the door once more. As soon as he stepped through, he dropped the valise on the wooden sidewalk and pulled Evie into his arms. "It's over," he murmured, still astonished that he hadn't died facing King.

Evie gazed into his face, her eyes seeming to drink in the sight of him as her hands splayed across his chest. "Are you all right?"

"I am now." He dropped a kiss to her lips, regardless of everyone watching, then blurted out, "Marry me." There were audible gasps from those around them, but he ignored the sound, his focus solely on Evie. A myriad of emotions played across her beautiful face, surprise being the most noticeable.

"Yes, I'll marry you." Tears sprang to her eyes and her smile widened.

True happiness surged through him, truer than anything he'd ever felt before, and love? That was there as well, filling his heart, making it pound harder in his chest. "When?"

She laughed as her arms tightened around him. "I don't know. Planning a wedding takes time, Jake."

His gaze settled on her as his hand gently caressed her cheek, then cupped her chin. "Now."

Evie's eyes widened. "Right now?"

"Yes, why not?" He smiled. "I don't want to waste another minute. I want everyone to know how much I love you."

She laughed in that deep way she had, and it reverberated in his heart. He wanted to hear that sound for the rest of his life. "Everyone already knows, Jake."

"Good, so you'll marry me right here, right now. We're all here. I can't think of a better time."

She shook her head, instantly sobering. "But we're not all here. Hilde, Felicity, and Marisol would be very angry with me if they weren't involved in the planning. They've been waiting for this day as long as I have." Her smile was full of promise, her eyes begging him to understand, and his heart melted. He could deny her nothing. "And I couldn't imagine getting married without the boys' wives. Or the children." She caressed his cheek, her hand warm on his skin. "Don't you want Father O'Malley there as well?"

"I do." Jake agreed, then dropped another kiss to her lips as he tightened his arms around her, determined never to let go, not today, not tomorrow, not ever. "You tell me when."

"Two weeks?"

"I can live with that." He smiled as he as he took a step away from Evie, though he didn't let go of her hand, then looked at those around him, so grateful he had responded to Lucy's advertisement in the first place. "We're getting married."

Lucy let out an excited squeal then grabbed Evie in a bone-crushing hug, while Charley was the first to extend his hand to him, followed by Heath. "Congratulations, Jake."

"If you ever make her unhappy," Esteban warned as he patted the handles of the guns in their holsters, "You know I know how to use these."

Despite the implied threat, Jake didn't take offense, though he was surprised it was Esteban who issued the warning and not Teddy. "I won't make her unhappy. You have my word."

"That goes for me as well, Jake." Teddy said, as he grabbed his hand and shook. "I may not shoot you, but I can certainly knock you on your ass."

Jake wasn't too sure about that, but there would never be a need to find out, so he just laughed.

Antonio was the last, clasping his hand in a tight grip. "Welcome to the family, son." He grinned, his bushy mustache lifting. "Are you sure you want this?" He gestured to everyone gathered around them, all talking at once, giving and receiving hugs and heartfelt tidings of good wishes. "We all come with her."

"I've always wanted to be part of a family." His throat constricted with emotion. "This one will definitely do."