Lawless Love

by Rosanne Bittner

  She thought to herself what a strange mixture of good and bad he was, gentleness and cruelty. How she longed to know more about him. She suddenly wished she could tell him she loved him. On the train she had thought she was falling in love. But how could she love any man the way a wife should love a husband now? How could she let any man touch her that way? It was ugly and painful and humiliating. Could she expect it to be any different with Moses Tucker? Perhaps. But she did not intend to find out, not ever.

  The door opened again, and a woman entered. She looked about twenty-five, maybe a little older. Her hair was ash blond and her eyes a gentle blue, and her stomach swelled out in front of her, great with child. She carried a tray, and Moss immediately walked over and took it from her.

  “Thanks, Willie.”

  The woman smiled and leaned over Amanda, feeling the girl’s forehead.

  “I’m Wilena Taggart,” she said in a kindly voice. “You can call me Willie. How are you feeling?”

  “Everything hurts,” Amanda replied.

  “I expect so. You were a pretty battered girl when Moss brought you in. But we’re going to see that you get all mended. You’re welcome to stay right here in this bed as long as it takes. We’ve already sent word that you’ve been found.”

  “I’m…very grateful, Willie. I…can’t thank you enough. I must be putting you out.”

  “Nonsense! Out here helping people is never any trouble,” the woman replied with a smile. “Moss here, and those men out there, they all feel the same way. A pretty girl needed help and she got it.” She straightened up and folded her arms, resting them on her stomach. “And if I know Moss, Rand Barker and the rest of them won’t be able to run far enough now! They might have a few days’ head start, but that won’t keep Moss from finding them, will it, Moss?”

  “I’d follow them straight into hell,” Moss replied, sitting down on the bed with the tray.

  Willie Taggart chuckled. “You eat good now, Amanda. I’ve got six men to prepare a meal for! And I’m eating for two myself!” She smiled and patted her stomach, and Moss looked at her with admiration.

  “You’re gonna make Slim one happy man, Willie,” he told her.

  “Well, that’s what I’m here for, right?” she replied. She turned and walked to the door. “You call if you need anything else, Moss.”

  “You take it easy,” he replied. “You’re workin’ too hard.”

  “Hard work never hurt anybody.”

  The woman went out, and Moss turned to Amanda.

  “She seems very nice,” Amanda told him.

  “She is. She’s just about as good and sweet as you.”

  Amanda reddened again, and Moss dipped a spoon into a bowl of soup. He held it out to Amanda, and she opened her mouth and swallowed it. It was hot and delicious.

  “She’s also a good cook,” Amanda told him.

  “Slim thinks so.” He dipped the spoon again. “Slim was a drifter, worthless as hell like the rest of us, till he met up with Wilena. She shook his tail out good, turned him full circle. That man would walk off a cliff, if Wilena told him to do it. Yet she’s never raised her voice to him. She just loves him quietly. He’s got himself a good woman, set up to ranchin’ here, quit his old ways.” She watched him as he fed her. “I reckon that’s all most men need: a good woman to keep them straight.”

  Their eyes held a moment.

  “I’m…deeply grateful, Moss, for what you’ve done for me. I wish…I could return your love. But not now, Moss. I can never be a wife.” She tried to look away, but his eyes held hers in a strangely magnetic power.

  “You shouldn’t say never, Mandy.” If only she would let him kiss her, touch her. How wonderful it would be if he could marry someone like Amanda and keep his little girl and raise her himself. He would like to live like Slim Taggart did now. And he would like to see Amanda great with child—his child.

  A tear slipped down the side of her face.

  “I’m…sorry, Moss. All I want now is to go to California…and see Father Mitchel…and try to pick up the pieces.”

  He swallowed and put on a smile. “Don’t be sorry, Mandy. It’s good to hear you say even that much.” He fed her some more soup. She could see the pain behind his smile of assurance. “You’re already thinkin’ about goin’ on with life, and that’s good,” he continued. “Heck, I—I already told you I didn’t expect nothin’ back, me bein’ what I am and all. I’ll be happy just knowin’ all that’s happened—well, that it won’t change you or make you bitter and sour on life, that it won’t take away all that natural love and beauty inside of you. Like I said, that would be lettin’ men like Barker win, and that would be a pretty sorry thing to let happen. I just—well, I’d like to bring my little girl to that mission and, like I said, if I don’t make it back, I’d like your promise you’ll go and get her for me.”

  “I will, Moss.”

  She ate some more.

  “Moss.”

  “Hmmm?”

  “It’s not you. Please believe me, Moss. Please don’t say you’re not good enough. You are. You’re good, Moss. It’s just…the others. I don’t think I could ever get over it. But it isn’t you, Moss. If things were different—”

  “It’s all right, Mandy. You finish eatin’ here and rest some more, and we’ll talk before I leave.”

  Her eyes drooped.

  “Will you stay here till I fall asleep?”

  “Sure I will.”

  He managed to get another bite into her mouth, but then her eyes closed. They felt heavy, and she could not make them open.

  “Thank you…for being my friend, Moss,” she said, her words beginning to slur. He carefully set the tray on the floor. Then he took her hand and held it. How small and light it felt in his large palm.

  “Thank you for bein’ mine,” he replied.

  “I hope…you find what you’re looking for,” she whispered.

  He studied her silently for a moment.

  “I already have,” he replied. “But I can’t keep it.”

  She was already asleep. Their few minutes of conversation had taken their toll on her beaten and exhausted body. Moss leaned down, taking advantage of the moment by kissing her cheek softly.

  “Damn it, I love you, Mandy,” he whispered. “God help me, I love you so much. I just wish I was good enough for you.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  She was awakened by her own screams, as the nightmare brought leering, oddly proportioned faces into her mind—Duke Sage, Sollit Weber, Rand Barker. She felt the pain—the hated pain deep inside of her—as Rand Barker pushed inside of her, laughing and holding her arms. Someone held her arms now, and she fought and screamed more. It would happen again. She could feel the strength. She would feel the pain again, and she struggled to keep from letting it happen.

  Someone was talking to her. Now her arms were brought around to the front of her, crisscrossed and held firmly by the same strong hands that had held her down only a moment earlier. Someone held her tightly now from behind, talking and talking. The voice was not gruff, but gentle. The pain did not come. Yet she was held immobile on a bed—immobile and almost completely engulfed in someone’s arms, dwarfed by them. Now she lay gasping for breath, her screams subsiding as reality began to make its appearance and sleep left her.

  “Wake up, Mandy!” someone was saying. “It’s all right. You was just dreaming. It was just a bad dream, honey.”

  “Is she all right, Moss?” a woman’s voice asked.

  “She will be in a minute.”

  “So…ugly! Ugly! Ugly!” Amanda groaned, her body now shaking with sobs. “So ugly!”

  “Hush, Mandy!” he told her. “Don’t think on it. Open your eyes now, honey, and get back to reality.”

  “Don’t let them…come back!”

  “They won’t come back,” he promised her. “In a few more days they won’t even be alive any more.”

  “I…feel so…soiled,” she wailed.

  “Don’t you s
ay that!” he groaned, keeping a tight hold on her. “Wasn’t none of it your fault, Mandy! None of it! You’re still beautiful and precious and special. So, so special, Mandy. Don’t say things like that. You’re much too special. Now you just shake them thoughts out of your head. Willie will get you some coffee, and you and me will talk, Mandy. Okay? Let’s talk. Maybe that will help get your mind on somethin’ else.”

  The door closed. Willie had gone out of the room. Amanda’s breathing came easier, and she began to relax in Moss’s arms.

  How soft and sweet she was! And how close her lips were when she turned slightly to look at him—how temptingly close. How he loved her and longed to show her how it could be. How he ached to taste her lips again. He wondered if she even remembered that kiss on the train. Their eyes held. What was going through her mind?

  “It’s not like that, Mandy. It’s nothin’ like they made it seem,” he found himself saying. She just looked at him. “It’s nice, Mandy—beautiful. And you’re beautiful,” he finished in a whisper.

  His lips met hers once more, searching hungrily but gently, parting her own lips without effort, while his hold on her lightened, and one of his big hands moved to the side of her face. He groaned lightly in his terrible need of her, his longing love for her, and she wanted it to be all right. But then the hungry and lonely man within moved too quickly. He whispered her name, caressing her cheek with his lips, and she realized he was still a man—like the others. It was all too new, too soon. Again the ugly memories came. His lips moved to hers again, but she went rigid and pushed at him.

  “Go away!” she found herself saying. “You’re just like the rest! Go away! Go away!” Her voice broke and the tears came, and she scooted back like a frightened child.

  Moss stood up, looking devastated.

  “Jesus, I’m sorry, Mandy. I just—I love you. I thought I could show you—”

  “Don’t you touch me again!” she sobbed, pulling the covers up around her neck. Why was she saying that? The pain in his eyes stabbed at her heart. He looked like a lost child.

  “I’m—I’m sorry. I had no right,” he replied. “I wouldn’t have hurt you, Mandy. Not for the world.” Their eyes held, and she said nothing. He reached in his pocket and took out some papers. “This is my letter…and the address where my little girl is. I don’t reckon you feel like talkin’ to me now. So I guess I’ll just be ridin’ on, go after Barker. You—you rest, Mandy. I’ll be back with the cross.”

  He laid the papers on the bed and quickly walked out. She tried to call out to him, but the words stuck in her throat.

  She heard voices in the outer room. Moss was giving orders. Chairs were scooted around, and then there was the sound of heavy footsteps, voices, and confusion. After several minutes a door opened and closed a few times, and now she could hear voices outside.

  “Moss?” she whispered, wiping at tears. “Don’t go, Moss. I’m sorry!”

  She struggled to get up, and walked on rubbery legs over to the window, pulling aside the curtain. Moss and four other men were walking a distance from the house now, toward a stall. She stared out the window and watched them saddle up. They looked no different from the men who had kidnaped her and abused her, yet they were different. She didn’t want them to leave—not yet. She hated herself for being so cruel. He’d been nothing but kind and good to her. And the kiss—she touched her lips. How warm and lovely it had been when, for that brief moment, she had allowed the beauty of it to flow through her. But then came the ugliness, the realization that, in the end, the same humiliating and painful act would occur if she were to marry and give herself to a man. No. She could not bear that. Yet women did it all the time, and they had children all the time. Mrs. Taggart herself was now pregnant. Surely it was not always the way she pictured it. And wasn’t that all poor Moss was trying to tell her? Had his intentions been bad after all?

  “What on earth did you say to that man?” Willie Taggart’s voice came from behind her. Amanda turned to face the woman. She looked Willie over, the stomach large with child. Perhaps this woman could help her sort out her emotions. Amanda had never had a woman to talk to—not a woman who had been through it all and who knew.

  Their eyes held a moment.

  “I guess I already know,” Willie told her. “Did Moss kiss you, Amanda?”

  Amanda did not reply. She turned back around and watched out the window. They were mounting up now. Moss moved into the saddle as though he were born to it. He sat there, lighting up a cigar. He glanced back at the house, but he could not see her watching him. He rode out a ways, looking out over the horizon, waiting for everyone to get ready. He rode back, looking magnificent and fearsome on the huge, reddish colored horse. Finally, all of them were ready. They rode out. Her chest felt tight. What if he didn’t come back? They’d never even talked like they had planned to do. She turned to look at Willie Taggart again.

  “Tell me about Moses Tucker,” she said in a small voice.

  Willie came over to her side and helped her back into bed.

  “You lie down and I’ll bring you some hot broth and some bread, and we’ll talk,” she told Amanda.

  Amanda fell wearily back into bed, her heart aching and heavy. What had she done? How she wished he would come back. But she’d made him feel unwanted and unworthy, and perhaps he would die trying to get her cross back for her. She wanted to pray for him, but it was still difficult to pray. She thought about the little ebony jewelry box. What had happened to it? And where were the personal belongings she’d brought along? It seemed everything was gone, including the old Amanda Boone. The past week had drastically affected her life. Had New York and the sisters ever existed? Was there truly a Father Mitchel and a mission school? And who was Amanda Boone now? Was she the same? Surely not, or she would never have been so cruel to someone who had been so kind to her.

  Willie left for a few minutes, then returned with a tray and helped Amanda sit up.

  “Behind the curtain over there in the corner is a place where you can go to the bathroom without going outside,” the woman told Amanda. “Do you need to use it? We keep it very clean, and my husband empties it frequently.”

  Amanda reddened. “No, I—I’m fine.” How primitive everything was out here in this strange land. Life was hard, cruel. No wonder Willie Taggart was married. A woman needed a man in wild, untamed places like this. She needed a man who was strong: a man of courage, sure and quick in his actions. She glanced at Willie Taggart’s stomach as the woman got the tray and set it on Amanda’s lap. Then Willie pulled a chair over to the bed and sat down, pushing some hair behind her ear and looking very tired.

  “Are you…due to deliver soon, Mrs. Taggart?”

  “Oh, please, remember to call me Willie,” the woman replied with a smile. She sighed and patted her stomach. “It’ll be about six weeks yet.”

  “Aren’t you afraid? I mean, you’re so far from help.”

  “I’ll have Slim with me. And there are some Arapaho women not far from here who will come and assist me. They’ll take care of that part of it, and Slim will give me courage—and something to hang on to!” she added with a light laugh. Their eyes held a moment. Willie Taggart sighed again. “Slim is so excited over this baby,” she went on. “I’m proud to give him a child, and glad to make him so happy. He’s a good man, Amanda. There’s nothing more fulfilling than to be loved and cared for by a good man, and to share everything together. I give him the things he needs, and he gives me the things I need. I know what’s going through your mind. But with the right man…it’s glorious and wonderful, Amanda. And in my opinion, God led you to Moss Tucker for a reason.”

  Amanda picked up a biscuit. She stared at it a moment.

  “Did Moss tell you to say that?”

  “No, he did not,” the woman replied. “It’s my own opinion. He told us all about you—about the mission and all, about your wanting to be a nun. I think that’s wonderful. But I also think perhaps God intends for you to do something else
with your life. Sometimes we have to go where fate leads us, Amanda.”

  Amanda took a bite of the biscuit, then drank some hot broth.

  “My life…was so different from all of this,” she said quietly. She looked at Willie Taggart. “Tell me about Moss. He left so much out. He was going to talk to me, but I…” She reddened. “You were right. He kissed me and I said some cruel words.”

  Willie smiled. “Moss came out of here looking like a little boy who’d just been punished. He loves you, you know. And when a man like Moss Tucker loves someone, you can bet it’s a whole lot, because Moss is his own man—usually quiet and a little mean in temperament. But you could take that big, ex-outlaw and lead him by the nose into quicksand, and he’d go willingly. You’ve got him lassoed good. I’ve never seen so much emotion in that man’s face. And I caught him wiping away tears more than once when you were so sick we thought you’d die. He’s sat here for three days, just waiting to see if you’d make it. And if I were you, I’d give that man some thought. He’d be good to you, Amanda. And he needs someone. He’s very, very lonely, and I’m sure down deep inside he’d like to keep his little girl. But he figures a man like him wouldn’t be able to raise a child right—not without a woman to help him. If you turn him away—and if he has to give up his little girl because he can’t take care of her himself—well, I’m just afraid he’ll go off the deep end and turn meaner than ever. Probably get himself in trouble again, go to jail again.”

  Amanda set her cup down. “He’s been in jail before?”

  “Oh, yes! And believe me, prison does not help a man! It only makes him meaner and more bitter. And in poor Moss’s case, he didn’t even do anything to deserve going. His life has been hard luck since the first day he was born.”