Lawless Love

by Rosanne Bittner

  The man removed his socks. “Well, I’ll tell you, Moss. A man has somethin’ good once—well, nothin’ seems to compare after that. I, uh, had me a girl once, about fifteen years ago…pretty little thing. That was back in Kentucky.” He lit a pipe.

  “What happened?” Moss asked.

  “I married her. And I had one week with her. Then one day she went walkin’ in the woods, lookin’ for flowers to pretty up our table. And she seen this real cute baby bear. And the damned fool kid walked up and tried to pet it.”

  His voice died off and he cleared his throat and swallowed.

  “Its ma was nearby?” Moss asked.

  “Yeah,” Hank replied in a choked voice.

  Again there was silence, except for the harmonica in the background.

  “I’m damned sorry, Hank. I shouldn’t have asked. Didn’t mean to dredge up bad memories.”

  “You didn’t know.” The man cleared his throat again. “At any rate, after that—hell, a man don’t care much no more, you know?”

  “I know.”

  “You’d feel the same way if somethin’ happened to that nice gal of yours. You’d never marry again, would you?”

  “I expect not,” Moss told him. “I expect not.”

  “Same here. I guess that’s why I ain’t worth much now. I mean, it don’t matter now, you know? It just…don’t matter.” He stretched out on his bedroll and closed his eyes. “It just don’t matter.”

  Moss smoked quietly and looked around at all of them—hard, lonely men. If not for Amanda, he would be just as hard and lonely, going nowhere. They had no one to care when they met their maker, no one to care how often they gambled or got drunk, or if they were sick or well. Men joked a lot about being tied down by a woman and losing their freedom, but women like Amanda didn’t tie a man down. And to be without her would not be freedom at all: it would be hell.

  He heard footsteps crunching behind him and turned to see Les Trainer standing there.

  “I’m in charge of the lady tonight,” the man told Moss. “She, uh, has some, uh, personal business to tend to. I’m walkin’ her out a ways. Just wanted you to know so you don’t get alarmed when you see she ain’t in her bedroll.”

  “Go ahead. Just be sure to turn your back,” Moss replied with a grin.

  “Jesus, Moss, what kind of man do you think I am?”

  “A normal one,” Moss replied.

  Les chuckled and walked off. Moss watched him scuffle his feet nervously and fidget with his hat as he waited for Etta. Then they walked off into the darkness. Moss leaned back again and closed his eyes.

  Les Trainer led Etta to a large boulder, instructing her to go behind it to tend to her personal needs. He turned around, but heard no footsteps.

  “Les,” she whispered. He frowned and turned back around.

  “Somethin’ wrong?”

  He felt her fingers toying with the buttons of his shirt.

  “I don’t really have to go, Les. I just…Les, a woman has needs…same as a man. And riding with men like you, day and night—I’ve been watching you, Les.”

  She stood on her tiptoes and kissed the hairs of his chest that were exposed where she had opened his shirt.

  Les Trainer swallowed and began to perspire.

  “Ma’am, you shouldn’t…do that. You know we ain’t supposed to touch you, ma’am.”

  “Oh, Moss only means you shouldn’t force yourselves on me. But if a woman is willing, Les—”

  “Ma’am,” Les swallowed again. “I don’t think Moss meant just that. We’d best get back, ma’am.”

  “And I thought you were a man of decision,” she whispered, her face close to his. She ran her hands down the sides of his legs, then gently probed the hardness between them. “I need a man, Les. No one will know. Even Moss won’t suspect.”

  Her full lips were close to his, and her light perfume was tantalizing. It was an offer few men such as Les Trainer would turn down. After all, the woman was practically begging for it. What was the harm, as long as they were quiet about it?

  He pressed his lips to hers, pulling her into his arms and groaning at the feel of her large bosom against his chest. She returned his kiss hungrily, thrilled at how quickly she had been able to seduce him, excited at another victory. If she couldn’t have Moss Tucker, she would have one of these men, who were just like him. Les pushed her to the ground, moving a leg on top of her and fumbling at the buttons on the front of her dress.

  “Let me help you, darling,” she whispered, her heart pounding at the exciting hardness he pressed against her thigh. She unbuttoned her dress and the man eagerly pulled one side off her shoulder, exposing the large, soft, milky-white breast, with its inviting pink nipple barely visible in the frail light of the moon.

  “Ma’am,” he whispered. “I don’t know why you’d let a worthless bum like me enjoy this beautiful body, but if you’re willin’ I ain’t gonna argue about it.”

  She smiled and grasped his hair as his mouth moved down to her breast. His hand reached down and pulled up on her dress, then pushed down her pantaloons, shoving them to her ankles and then caressing the soft patch of hair exposed willingly.

  “Oh, Les! Les!” she whispered. “I knew I could count on you. It’s…been so long since I’ve been with a man…especially a real man like you.”

  It took only seconds for him to move on top of her and find his way between her legs—legs that opened willingly for him in her own desperate need. He smothered off her moans of delight by covering her mouth with his own as he rammed himself inside of her. Rules or no rules, a man couldn’t turn down this kind of offer. She raised up to meet him and he reached under her hips to feel of the firm, round bottom; moments later he released himself in near pain at the excitement of it. Never had a woman like Etta Landers offered herself to him. He let out a long, shuddering sigh of pleasure, and they both lay limp and satisfied.

  But then a gun clicked; Les whirled and found himself looking up at Moss Tucker. Etta gasped and wriggled back, struggling to pull up her pantaloons and push her dress down.

  “Get up and get out, Les,” Moss said quietly.

  “Moss, I—my God, Moss, she begged me!”

  “That’s not true!” Etta whimpered. “He—he forced me!”

  “I’ve been watching, Etta,” Moss hissed. “I didn’t see no strugglin’ and I didn’t hear no screaming.” He stepped a little closer. “Get them pants buttoned and get going, Les. You’re out.”

  “Moss, I promise I won’t—”

  “I don’t blame you for any of it, Les. But if you stay on, you’re gonna be rememberin’ tonight, and you’re gonna be wantin’ it again. Only maybe next time she’ll take on some other man. And maybe you’ll get jealous and do somethin’ stupid like kill somebody, or maybe you’ll want to impress your beautiful lover and do somethin’ stupid to look brave in front of her and get yourself killed by disobeyin’ some order I give you. It’s best you leave now, Les. Go now and I’ll forget it, and the next time we run into each other we won’t mention it.”

  Etta broke into tears of shame.

  “I—I’m sorry, Moss,” Les spoke up, quickly buttoning his pants. “Why in hell didn’t you speak up sooner?”

  “’Cause I’m a man. There ain’t nothin’ much more painful than tryin’ to stop yourself right in the middle. She was askin’ for it. I figured it’s been a long time for you. So I let you finish. The damage was already done anyway.”

  Les could sense the smoldering anger beneath the quiet voice. He swallowed and looked at the gun.

  “I really am sorry, Moss. I didn’t want to go against what you asked, but she—goddamn, Moss, she offered herself up like a damned piece of pie!”

  Moss sighed. “Just leave, Les. If anybody asks, you just tell them you changed your mind. Make somethin’ up. But don’t you breathe a word of this to any other man, or every one of them will be pantin’ after her like she was a bitch in heat, understand? Right now they all consider her…respecta
ble.” He sneered the word, looking at a cowering, crying Etta as he did so. “You understand what I’m tellin’ you, Les? It’s important they all think she’s a proper lady.”

  “Sure, Moss. I—I won’t say nothing.” He bent down and picked up his hat. “See you around, Moss.”

  “Yeah.”

  Les walked off, and Moss put his gun back in its holster. He walked closer to Etta and glared down at her. “I thought I’d seen everything,” he told her with disgust in his voice. “When I knew you, I was lucky to get to kiss your cheek. You was uppity and spoiled, I’ll admit. But you was a virgin, and I respected that. What the hell happened to you, Etta? Just bein’ divorced wouldn’t make the Etta I knew spread her legs for any man that came along.”

  “Stop it!” she groaned, hanging her head. “It’s none of your business how I conduct my private life!”

  “If I’m gonna go all the way to Wyoming and help you save your property—and risk my life and the lives of all these other men here—then I say it is my business, Etta.”

  “You hate me now, don’t you?” she whined.

  He sighed and turned away, as she rose and smoothed her dress.

  “The hatred I held for you has suddenly turned to just plan disgust, Etta, and right now I’m wonderin’ why in hell I’m goin’ through all this. I enjoyed seein’ you beg, and I hated you. But somewhere down deep inside I still respected your virtue. You might have been a liar and a spoiled kid, but I respected your person.”

  Her heart ached at the revulsion in his voice. “I…I need…to be touched,” she whimpered. “I need to know that men desire me.”

  Moss frowned. “That’s the craziest thing I ever heard. My God, Etta, there isn’t a man alive who’d look at you and not desire you. What the hell is the matter with you, woman?”

  She choked in a sob and Moss fought an urge to feel sorry for her. He wondered what could possibly have happened between her and Ralph Landers to turn her into such a woman. This was not the Etta Graceland he had left behind eighteen years ago, the haughty, prim young lady who had considered him unworthy of touching her because he was a bastard and did not have the proper “bloodlines.”

  He turned to see her standing there with her hands over her face. He grasped her wrists almost angrily and jerked her hands away. “Why, Etta? Why did you lower yourself like that?” he hissed, trying to keep his voice down.

  She met his eyes defiantly, tears on her cheeks that he could see glowing lightly in the moonlight.

  “Because Les was a man,” she hissed through gritted teeth. “Just like you’re a real man, and the others! Eighteen years ago I threw away my chance at being a real woman! I got married. Yes. A lovely wedding it was: a fine young gentleman marrying the proper young lady!” She stepped back. “Picture yourself a woman, Moss! How would you feel, if two weeks after your wedding you found your husband in the arms of another man!”

  She burst into renewed tears and ran off before he could catch her or reply. He stood there in the dark, speechless. What kind of horror had she lived with? No wonder she needed reassurance she was desirable. Her own husband had not wanted her, preferring men to his own beautiful wife. What a stinging blow to a young, budding woman.

  “My God!” he whispered to himself. The news helped his decision. Few things were more appalling than a man who would lie with another man. Ralph Landers was a pervert; it suddenly occurred to Moss that perhaps Miles Randall was one of his lovers. It all made sense. Moses Tucker would thoroughly enjoy murdering such filth. It angered him to realize the kind of woman Ralph Landers had made out of Etta. Now his hatred for Miles Randall was multiplied. He had all the more reason to go through with his promise of helping Etta. Ralph Landers and Miles Randall would both pay—and pay dearly!

  Moss heard a horse galloping away. That would be Les Trainer. He regretted losing the man. Les was one of the better ones. But to stay around would be too much temptation for the man. And none of the others must know about Etta Landers’s strange needs and desires. If they did, pure havoc would let loose, and Moss would lose all control over the men. He walked back to camp.

  “Boss, that crazy Les just rode off,” Tom Sorrells spoke up. “Said there was a gal over in Colorado he’d been thinkin’ about and tryin’ to stay away from. And now all of a sudden he decides he’s got to go to her. Can you beat that?”

  Moss laughed lightly and lit another cigarette. “Well, when I think about my wife, I can understand it,” he replied casually.

  “What a man wouldn’t do for the woman he loves,” Sorrells said, shaking his head. He turned over and snuggled down into his bedroll. Moss walked over to Pappy, who stood away from the others and was watching the extra horses for the night. Pappy never was one to sleep a lot, and Moss knew the old man would be awake.

  “I’ll be watchin’ Etta myself from now on, Pappy,” he told the old man. “Somethin’ happened tonight. It’s best I watch her myself.”

  Pappy lit a cigar. “That somethin’ wouldn’t have anything to do with Les Trainer, would it?” the old man asked.

  “It would.” Moss took a deep drag on his cigarette.

  “Gonna tell me about it?”

  “No. Maybe some day. But not till this is over.”

  “No matter.” The old man puffed his cigar. “Just so you ain’t forgettin’ you’ve got a pretty little waif waitin’ for you down south of here.”

  Moss turned to face him. “A herd of buffalo stampedin’ over my skull couldn’t make me forget that, Pappy. And I don’t want to hear you suggest such a thing again. ’Cause if you do, I’ll knock your teeth out, old man or not.”

  “Just checking. You and me have been friends a long time, Moss. But if I had to make a choice, I’d choose Amanda, and you know it.”

  “I wouldn’t blame you. She’s a hundred times the person I’ll ever be. You really think I’d be crazy enough to break her heart by cheatin’ on her?”

  “I hope not. But a woman like Etta can turn a man’s head pretty far, and you did love her once.”

  “That was a long time ago.” Moss sighed. “And things are different now—real different, especially Etta.” He rubbed at the stump of his left arm.

  “That thing hurtin’ you tonight?”

  Moss shrugged. “Just the cold night air, I guess.”

  Pappy puffed on his cigar. “I’m obliged for the home you’ve given me, Moss, the job, lettin’ me come along and all—”

  “Goddamn it, Pappy, will you quit blamin’ yourself for my arm? It’s been five years!”

  “But I’m the one who made the decision, and I’m the one who cut it off!”

  “And you saved my life, Pappy!” Moss said flatly.

  “True. But who’s to say—”

  “My God, Pappy, there was no way to save it! I know that now. The arm is gone, and it’s nobody’s fault but mine. It’s not even the Apaches’ fault! I had lots of chances to save it; we could have stopped in any town or fort and seen a doctor. I was the stubborn one. Blame it on me bein’ crazy from the infection, my crazy quest to get that crucifix up to Mandy, whatever. But it was my decision not to get help—mine alone. You had no choice by the time we got there. So I don’t want to hear any more about how it’s your fault.”

  Pappy blinked and puffed his cigar.

  “I know how I talked right afterward, Pappy. But I was just scared, sickened. But Mandy, she changed all that. When I’m with Mandy I know I’m still a man. There’s no doubt in my mind. And I’m probably stronger now than I was before. So it doesn’t matter any more, Pappy. You know that.”

  Pappy looked away. “I love you like a son, Moss. I couldn’t let you die.”

  Moss put a hand on his shoulder. “’Course you couldn’t. I’d have done the same thing with you, or Mandy, or even Becky. It’s livin’ that counts, Pappy—especially when you’ve got somebody to live for.”

  Pappy turned to face him. “Has Etta Landers got somebody to live for, Moss? She looks like a pretty empty lady to me.�
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  “She is, Pappy. She’s got nothin’ to live for right now except that ranch. And I’m gonna see she keeps it.” He turned to look out at the main camp. “For more reasons than one, Pappy.” He could not help but think that Etta Graceland Landers had probably got what she deserved for marrying a man strictly for his wealth and good standing. That fact quelled his own appetite for revenge against her. But the kind of man Landers had turned out to be was worse than even Etta deserved, and amid Moss’s contempt for the woman, he could not help but feel some pity; the sweet revenge he had tasted when she begged him to help her was souring. Amanda was right. Revenge wasn’t always satisfying; at least in Etta’s case it didn’t feel as good as he had hoped.

  He looked at Pappy again. “I guess everybody makes mistakes, don’t they, Pappy? Etta made hers, and she’s payin’ for it. I guess after all these years I’ve got no call to make life even more miserable for her than it already is. That’s what Amanda would say, anyway. And God knows if Amanda wasn’t willin’ to forgive me for my own mistakes, she never would have married me. I enjoyed seein’ Etta beg me to help her back when she first came to me. But now I guess I’ll just help her because, as Mandy would put it, it’s the right thing to do. Know what I mean, Pappy?”

  “I reckon I do, Moss. You, uh, go on and get some rest now. We have a train to meet tomorrow.”

  Moss stepped out his cigarette. “Yeah.”

  “Les gone for good?”

  “Yeah. He won’t be back.”

  “Just make sure her problem—whatever it is—don’t cost any of these men their lives, Moss. They’re good men.”

  “I realize that. That’s why I sent Les packin’. See you in the morning, Pappy.”

  Moss walked over and picked up his bedroll and moved it closer to Etta. She appeared to be asleep, but he didn’t believe she was. Her humiliation and shame had to be too fresh in her mind to make her able to relax enough to sleep. Moss opened his bedroll beside hers and sat down. She lay on her side, facing him, her eyes closed. He knew even in the darkness that they were red and swollen. He reached over and grasped one of her hands and felt her trembling. He heard a sniffle, and he squeezed her hand.