Lawless Love

by Rosanne Bittner

  “Mostly Sioux,” he finally grunted. “A couple of Apache.”

  “Did you kill them?” the other man asked.

  The stranger was adjusting his hat again. He glanced over at Amanda, and it was obvious he just then realized she had been sitting there. His eyes immediately softened, and he smiled.

  “So, we meet again. You all right, ma’am?”

  She blushed and looked at her lap.

  “I’m just fine.”

  “I’d still like to fix that bag for you.”

  The remark was so sincere, she hated to be rude.

  “I—I’ll think about it.”

  “Good.” He frowned. “You alone?” he asked, after looking around. His voice showed his amazement.

  She twisted her hands nervously. “The Lord is with me,” she answered. He did not reply, and she couldn’t help but look over at him. He was studying her with concern, and she felt a warmth flow through her.

  “Mmm-hmm,” he mumbled. “Well, just in case that’s not enough, you give a holler if you need help.”

  She blushed deeply and swallowed with nervousness.

  “Well, thank you,” she managed to say. “But I hardly think it will be necessary, sir.”

  “Then you haven’t been around much. You look a little lost and out of place, and you’re a right pretty lady, if you don’t mind my sayin’ so.”

  She blushed even more. No one had ever told her that. Oh, the nuns had called her pretty. But they said all the girls at the school were pretty. It wasn’t the same as this worldly man saying it.

  “I’ll…be fine,” she replied. She quickly turned and took out some knitting from her bag.

  “You didn’t answer my question, mister,” the other man spoke up. “You kill them Indians?”

  The stranger looked at the man who had asked the question.

  “Mister, when you fight an Indian, you fight to kill. ’Cause that’s what he’s gonna do to you if you don’t get him first. But I’ve never killed an Indian that didn’t attack me first. And I’ve never met an Indian I didn’t respect.”

  Amanda’s mind raced with questions and doubts about this man. He had killed! It was both appalling and fascinating. And he had not replied when asked if he’d had run-ins with the law. She kept to her knitting, determined not to draw any more attention from him nor to converse with him again.

  The stranger settled down into his seat again, pulling his hat back down, but leaving it up enough to slyly watch her without her knowing it. She was lovely, and obviously alone and very much afraid. But she was trying very hard not to show it. Her shyness and simple beauty fascinated him. He was curious about her, yet knew that she was not the type who would open up and answer questions, especially when they came from a stranger who probably looked rather menacing to her.

  His eyes rested for a moment on the enticing curve of her bosom, and he wondered if any man had ever touched her. She wore no rings on her hands and she was traveling alone—not likely a married woman. He wondered how old she was and what she was doing alone. The lost and slightly helpless air about her pulled at his insides, and her quiet manner touched a soft side of him that had not been stirred in many years. He closed his eyes and grinned to himself.

  “If she knew all about me, she’d jump out of that window while the train was movin’,” he thought to himself. “No woman like that would give the time of day to ole Moss Tucker.”

  Chapter Two

  The Sioux chief looked across the small fire in his tipi to the white man who had entered the Sioux village.

  “Why is it you come here?” the Indian asked impatiently. “Is this another white man’s trick? Another offer of trinkets to keep us from more raiding?” His dark eyes glinted with hate, and the white man squirmed.

  “I came here to make a deal with you, Raincloud.”

  The Indian snickered and looked at the white man contemptuously. “Just as I thought. Who sent you? The soldiers? The ‘Great White Father’ in Washington who steals our land and our buffalo?”

  “I came of my own accord. And if I had any bad intentions, do you think I’d have ridden right into your camp?”

  The Indian studied him. This man had shifty eyes. He was not to be completely trusted.

  “I am listening, white eyes. The deal should be a good one, or you will leave here dragging behind your horse rather than riding on it!”

  “I can get you guns, Raincloud—lots of them.”

  The Indian’s eyebrows went up. He leaned forward, and the muscles of his magnificent arms made the white man swallow. This was Raincloud, a rebellious leader who had done much raiding. He was greatly feared by the whites, and very respected by his own men.

  “And just how could you get these guns, my friend, and why?”

  “The Union Pacific. In a few days a train will be comin’ through Wyoming carryin’ hundreds of rifles for the army, along with a heavy payroll for the soldiers. I want that payroll. But I need help. You help me stop the train, you get the guns, I get the money, and we go our separate ways.”

  The Indian frowned. “How do you know what this train carries?”

  “I have connections. I know, that’s all. What do you say? Is it a deal?”

  “You realize the guns would be used against your own kind?”

  “I’ve learned a man has to look out for himself and that’s it. Ain’t none of them people ever done nothin’ for me, and they’d not appreciate it if I did anything for them. I don’t care what you use the guns for. It ain’t my affair. I just want the money and then I’ll be headin’ down to Mexico to spend it on the señoritas. You do whatever you want with the guns.”

  Raincloud studied the man with disgust. This white man was betraying his own people, something an Indian would never do. The white man’s lust for money would be amusing if not for the tragic effect it was having on the Indians.

  “When will this train come?” Raincloud finally asked, studying the white man closely.

  “About three more days. We’ll have to ride down to a place east of Bear River City to intercept the train before it gets there. I’ve got men comin’ down from Hole-in-the-Wall to meet me. After the robbery, we’ll go on down to Brown’s Park, hole up there for a while, then head for Mexico.”

  “These places you mention, they are places where white men who go against their own laws hide out, are they not?”

  The white man nodded, then lit a cigar while the Indian thought on the idea. Raincloud pondered for a moment. This white man was no good, that was certain.

  “How can I be certain the rifles will be on the train?”

  “I have a soldier friend who’s kept me informed. Once we heist the money, he’s joinin’ us at Brown’s Park. And he’s sure the rifles will be there, too.”

  “And if they are not?”

  “They’ll be there. You just remember, there’ll be a lot more of you than there will of us. So if I double-cross you, Raincloud, you can use us for target practice if you so choose. If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t be here riskin’ my neck like this.”

  Raincloud rubbed his chin while the white man smoked quietly.

  “I will help you,” the Indian finally spoke up. “But I think I do not like you very much, my white-eyed friend. It is a bad thing you do, betraying your own people. But the guns will not be used against them if they leave me and my people alone. We need the guns for survival, to hunt the buffalo. And we need them to fight the white men who come and burn our villages and rape our women. The Sioux did not choose this war. Your own people chose it, by breaking their promises.”

  “I told you I don’t give a damn how you use the guns. Just help me stop the train and get the payroll.”

  “There will not be soldiers on the train?”

  “Only a couple. Too many would give it away. They don’t want anybody knowin’ what the train’s carrying. It’s billed as strictly a few passengers and their cargo. It’ll be an easy take, Raincloud.”

  The Indian thought anothe
r moment, then rose.

  “I will do it. We must have the guns.” He grinned slyly. “To protect ourselves from men like yourself.”

  The white man smiled back and threw his cigar down, stepping it out.

  “And as I said, we must have them to kill game—game which is becoming more scarce as the white man moves in and kills it needlessly and fences off more property to keep us from getting to the game. The land belongs to all of us. It is not for man to divide into little pieces and call his own!”

  The white man shrugged. “Like I said, Raincloud, them things don’t matter to me. You just meet me and my men down in Dixie Canyon, day after tomorrow. You know where that is?”

  “The Sioux know the land as well as they know their women.”

  The white man grinned again. “Speakin’ of women, you wouldn’t have any squaws you’d like to loan out for a night or two, would you?”

  The Indian’s eyes blackened with contempt.

  “Not for the likes of you, my friend. We have already made our deal, and a squaw was not part of it. And if you like your hair, the guns had better be on the train.”

  The white man swallowed. “They’ll be there.” He turned to leave.

  “Wait!” Raincloud spoke up. The man turned.

  “The Indians do not live in filth as the white man like to make others believe. You will pick up that piece of your smoke from the floor of my dwelling and take it with you.”

  The white man pressed his lips together in anger. He was in no position to argue. He glowered at the Indian and walked back, bending over to pick up the cigar butt.

  “You have not even told me your name,” Raincloud told him.

  “Barker. Rand Barker.”

  “Mmmm.” The dark eyes studied the tall and unkempt white man. “I will remember your name, Rand Barker. It is the name of a traitor. Be sure it is not I who you betray.”

  Barker’s eyes glinted. “You won’t be betrayed. See you in a couple of days.” He quickly went out and mounted his horse. When he neared the edge of the village, a small child played there alone. Barker looked down at the tot, who stared up at the white man with large, brown innocent eyes.

  “You little vermin!” Barker sneered. He spat on the child and rode off.

  Chapter Three

  The Union Pacific rattled and chugged across the nearly eight hundred miles between Chicago and Council Bluffs with not a word spoken between Amanda and the man across the aisle from her. She was too shy; he felt she was too much a lady for a man like him to speak to. And so they rode in silence, disembarked at rest stations in silence, ate in silence. Yet each knew the other was watching, she out of curiosity, he out of genuine concern for her safety.

  Amanda thought it odd that she was actually glad the man was along and that he always sat near her. And to her surprise, she found herself beginning to fear at each stop that he might get off and not return. Yet each time he boarded again. She wondered just how far he was going, but was too timid to ask. The other passengers changed, some leaving, some staying, new ones boarding. Amanda kept her same seat, and the stranger kept his across from her.

  They finally reached Council Bluffs, where it was announced there would be an overnight stay for some repair work on the engine. Amanda’s heart tightened. Now she would have to find lodging. How did she know what places would be decent and which ones would not? And how safe would she be? The stranger left the car before she did, and when she exited she could not see him anywhere. She clung to her carpetbag and handbag, and ducked her head as a chilly drizzle stung her face. She would have to find lodging quickly, being frightened of becoming wet and cold after just getting over pneumonia.

  “Dear God, help me find a place to stay,” she whispered. She hurried away from the station, heading for the log buildings with various signs on them, most of them reading “saloon.” Then she hesitated. Why not just stay on the train? She could sleep in her seat. After all, she’d been doing so up until now. The porter had suggested the passengers find a place to stay so that they could sleep in a real bed for one night. But most of the passengers were men, who didn’t have to be choosy about where they slept. Already many of them were heading toward the saloons, laughing and conversing. And she realized that was probably exactly where the stranger had gone.

  Her heart fell. She had subconsciously thought he would be nearby and maybe tell her where to go. She was hurrying back toward the train when two men on foot approached her, blocking her path.

  “Need a place to spend the night, honey?” one asked. His breath smelled of whiskey and he sported a couple days’ growth of beard.

  “I—I’m staying on the train,” she answered, trying to get by them.

  “Oh, you can’t do that, little girl. We’ll find you a place, won’t we, Harvey?” The man took her arm.

  “Please let go of me,” she pleaded, tears coming to her eyes. “I want to stay on the train!”

  One of them laughed. “We’ve been watchin’ you since Rock Island, honey. You’re travelin’ alone. Where you headed? Goin’ to one of them minin’ towns out on the coast to set up a brothel, maybe?” He pulled her close, pushing the carpetbag from her hand. “I’d pay a lot for you, little lady. How much you asking?”

  She choked back a sob and struggled as the man tried to kiss her. Her first thought was that the other man would run off with her carpetbag and the precious cross inside of it.

  “Please! I’m not one of them!” she cried. “Let me go, please!”

  Just then there was the click of a rifle, followed by a loud bang that made Amanda scream and cover her ears. The man grabbing her quickly let go and jumped back as dirt flew at his heels, where a bullet hit too close for comfort.

  “You gentlemen figurin’ on doin’ this lady’s choosin’ for her?” came the deep voice. Amanda knew it was the stranger. She didn’t look at him right away. She quickly picked up her carpetbag and stepped back, hanging her head in embarrassment and shame. If this was what men were like, she was glad she had decided not to have anything to do with them.

  “Who the hell are you?” one of her attackers asked.

  “The name don’t matter. What matters is you’re puttin’ your hands on private property, mister. That lady belongs to herself and nobody else, and I suggest you keep your hands off her.”

  “It ain’t your business, mister!”

  “I’m makin’ it my business. And I’d be glad if you’d like to argue about it, ’cause it wouldn’t bother me at all to fill your brisket with lead, mister. I’ve done it before, so it’s nothin’ new to me.”

  Amanda finally looked at him. He wore a gunbelt low on his hips, and at the moment he held a rifle in his hands and his eyes were cold. The two assailants stood there staring at the man for a moment.

  “Lester, he looks mean. I think he’s serious,” one of them said.

  “I am,” the tall stranger replied. “And my advice is that you two get yourself some horses and do your travelin’ on four legs instead of iron tracks. I don’t want to see you gettin’ back on the train. It might upset the lady here to see you again.”

  Amanda sniffed and moved closer to the stranger.

  “Now wait just a minute!” the one called Harvey spoke up. “You can’t tell us we can’t ride the train!”

  “I just did. I’m gonna be watchin’ in the morning. If I see you try to get on, I’ll fracture your jaws and fix you up so you have to stay here till you mend. And if you don’t think I can take care of both of you at once, you just try me. I’ve not been in a good go-round for a long time. Might be kind of fun.”

  The two men looked at each other and hesitated. Then the stranger cocked the rifle again and they both started running. The stranger watched them until they were far down the muddy street. Then his eyes moved to Amanda’s, and for the first time they both stared at each other for several seconds.

  “Ma’am, if you’ll trust me, I can take you to a safe place to stay where you can sleep in a real bed. The ladies there
aren’t exactly what somebody like you would be used to, but they’re friendly and they’re good-hearted. They’d be glad to make you welcome and you’d be safe there.”

  “I—I don’t know, I—”

  “No arguing,” he told her, coming closer and taking the carpetbag from her. “You’re cold and wet and you’re gonna be sick if you stand here any longer.” He put an arm around her and forced her to walk with him. Her mind was confused with a mixture of relief and apprehension. Yet this man had just saved her from what could have been a fate worse than death, as far as she was concerned. And she was too weary from the long trip and too weak from the ordeal she had just been through to argue.

  He led her to a long, rambling log house, barging through the door without knocking. Amanda was immediately enveloped in the lovely warmth put out by a large fire in a roaring, stone fireplace nearby. Four women sat dressed only in nightgowns; as they looked toward the door their faces lit up.

  Amanda blushed deeply as all four of them rushed to greet the stranger, squealing and hugging him. He kept an arm around Amanda, but set her carpetbag on the table and used his other arm to hug them one by one.

  “Moss Tucker, you old bear! Where in hell have you been!” a redhead bellowed. “My bed hasn’t been the same since you left it, you ole gunslinger, you!”

  Amanda thought she would faint when they kissed, but then he let go of the woman and put his hand up for silence.

  “Hold up there, now, ladies. I want all of you on your best behavior. I didn’t come here to do business. I came to ask you to help this little woman I’ve got with me. She’s travelin’ alone and she’s all lady, in every respect. So watch your mouths and put on some robes.”

  All four women looked at her, all of them with kindness in their eyes.

  “Why, child, you’re shivering. Come on over here by the fire, honey,” the redhead told her. She pulled Amanda away from the stranger and led her to a big rocker. “Betty, go get a blanket for her,” she ordered another girl. “Honey, let’s get this cape off you. I’ll hang it up to dry.”