Chapter Thirty-Three
Etta spoke to no one the next morning, especially not Moss. Her degradation at the thought of Moss watching her grovel in the dirt with a cowhand sickened her, and she hated herself. Now he knew the whole dirty truth. She wondered why he hadn’t just knocked her to the ground and left her. How must she look to him now, compared to his pure and perfect wife? It brought tears to her eyes and shame to her heart. Surely she had ruined any chance of gaining his respect and of winning his heart away from Amanda Tucker. Her land was all she had now. Her need to keep it grew more desperate. If she had nothing and no one else, at least she had her ranch. But she knew that would not be enough now. She hungered for Moses Tucker, and she would likely remain hungry.
They rode through Robber’s Roost, calling out hello’s to the surly, untrustworthy men who hung out on the streets eyeing Etta. She knew most of them had to be outlaws. This was the outlaw trail; Robber’s Roost was one of their favorite hangouts. She’d heard that as she’d traced down Moses Tucker. Moss rode close beside her, watching the men in the streets carefully.
“What are you guarding?” she asked coldly. “Surely not my honor.”
He turned to look at her, but she looked straight ahead. “Maybe you think there’s nothin’ to guard, but believe me, Etta, there’s a difference between Les Trainer and some of the men who are watchin’ you now. Wrestlin’ with one of them in bed would be like gettin’ beat up by a grizzly. It wouldn’t be no picnic. And it wouldn’t be no pleasure.”
She wondered to herself how gentle Moses Tucker would be in bed. Surely it would be lovely. Otherwise a delicate young woman like Amanda Tucker wouldn’t appear to be so happy. She thought how nice it must have been for Amanda to have a man like Moss help her get over her cruel rape.
Two buxom beauties hung over the railings of a whorehouse farther up the street, squealing and waving to the small troup of men who rode through. Dwight Brady and Hank Stemm gave out a holler and galloped past the others, standing up on their horses’ saddles and grabbing the railing. The girls screamed as the two of them hoisted themselves up, climbed over the railing, and disappeared inside with the women.
“My goodness, such chivalry,” Etta mocked, putting a hand to her throat as though shocked. “You’ve just lost two men, Moss.”
Moss chuckled. “They’ll catch up.” The others behind them laughed and joked, but Moss knew the emptiness inside their souls that was covered up by the laughter. Lonely men, all of them.
They made it out of the sprawling, awesome valley wherein lay Robber’s Roost, and headed toward a huge mesa. As much as Etta liked men, she couldn’t help be glad to be out of Robber’s Roost. Moss had stuck to the basic outlaw trail because some of the men with him were wanted in Utah for various reasons. Once they got to Wyoming, they would be safe. Several of them would ride in the baggage car, or with their own horses, once they got on the train so that not too many people would see them. The law and the general public would have to be avoided until they were out of Utah.
They headed up a steep escarpment, and Etta’s horse stumbled. She screamed as the animal slid backward and literally sat down on its rear. Etta fell off and the horse barely missed landing on top of her. The palomino struggled to its feet again, and Sooner hurriedly dismounted and helped Etta up. Moss turned his own horse and carefully led it back down the embankment.
“You okay?” he asked her.
“Just embarrassed!” she said, beating dirt from her clothes in frustration. She looked up at him. “I seem to have a way of making a fool of myself in front of you.”
Moss grinned. “Adds spice to life. Mount up with Sooner and ride with him till we get to the top. Pappy will lead your horse for you.”
“Now that’s a job I don’t mind,” the half-breed said with a smile.
“You tend to business and get the lady up there safely,” Moss said sternly.
“Yes, sir,” the man replied. Moss held Etta’s eyes as Sooner lifted her to his horse.
“It’s all right, Moss,” she said, assuring him she would not do something foolish.
They headed back up the steep bank with no more problems, and Etta looked back at the place they had just left. What big country this was! Robber’s Roost was a small dot below, and she could barely make out the two riders—probably Dwight Brady and Hank Stemm—hurrying to catch up. She turned to see Moss gazing back also, but his eyes looked beyond Robber’s Roost southward into the miles of land they had already covered, straining to see through the haze in the distance. She realized how much he must miss his wife and the little ranch he had left behind. She knew that was what he was thinking of, and her heart burned with jealousy.
Sooner helped her down and she mounted her own horse again. They headed for Green River City, and the Rio Grande Railroad.
Etta took her seat, relaxing into the welcome softness of a real chair rather than a saddle. She put her head back and breathed a sigh of relief, as Moss showed the porter their tickets and sat down in a seat facing her. They both sat next to a window, and the seats beside them were empty. Moss lit a cigarette and stared out the window; Etta was struck by the fact that there seemed to be tears in his eyes as he stared out at the mountains beyond.
“What are you thinking of, Moss?” she asked softly. “Your wife?”
His eyes shifted to hers. “I met her on a train…sittin’ near her like this.” He sighed. “Sometimes it seems like yesterday, her sittin’ on that train all alone…a scared young girl not knowin’ who to trust. I reckon maybe I fell in love with her the first time I ever saw her.”
“I’d love to get my mind on something besides myself and my ranch,” she told him. “I heard bits and pieces when I was looking for you. Maybe you wouldn’t be so lonely if you talked about her a little. Tell me all about her, fill in the details. I’m willing to listen.”
He studied her eyes, surprised that she seemed sincere. After her shameful deed with Les Trainer, she seemed subdued and less haughty; now that he knew the lurid fact that her husband had been homosexual, he found it hard to hate her or accuse her. Things were much different now than they were eighteen years ago, different than even a few days ago. He took out a cigarette.
“She was on her way to California to teach at a mission. She was the next thing to bein’ a nun herself,” he told her. “I was on my way from Chicago to see what I could do about Becky ’cause her ma had died. I ended up on the same train with Amanda. I could see how scared and inexperienced she was. She wouldn’t even look at me or talk to me at first, but I sort of kept an eye on her, felt sorry for her, helped her out of a couple of tight situations and slowly won her confidence. And I guess I knew in the back of my mind I was fallin’ in love with her. But she was untouchable, and what she knew about men you could put in a thimble.”
He lit the cigarette and took a drag. His eyes moved over Etta, and she reddened, still feeling ashamed and embarrassed. “We all start out not knowing much,” she said rather sadly, looking at her lap then.
He smoked quietly for a moment, trying to sort out his feelings. “Etta, about your husband—”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she interrupted. “Or about last night, except to apologize. Maybe when we get to the ranch, where I can relax…” She sighed. “I just can’t talk about it yet, Moss.”
“All right. But I’d like to know if Miles Randall is that way, too.”
She swallowed and nodded, unable to meet his eyes. “Miles is the one I…found my husband with.”
The train rattled along rhythmically, and Moss turned his eyes to look out the window at the swiftly passing terrain. “Well, Etta, I may not feel like goin’ through with this just for you. I’ve half a mind to turn around and go back to Amanda. But I’ve brought the men this far, and they’re lookin’ forward to a little action, some good pay, and a chance to help you out. I’ll not let on about some of your personal escapades, because the more they respect you, the harder they’ll fight for you. Just do
n’t give me reason to regret my decision by pullin’ somethin’ like that again.”
“I won’t, Moss. I promise.”
He studied her lovely form and beautiful clothes. Yes, there was a time, but many things had changed since then. And there was Amanda—sweet Amanda. “At any rate,” he continued, “I’m goin’ through with this mainly to get my hands on Miles Randall again. There’s nothing I want more than that. That man ruined me, stole everything I had ever worked for. And now that I know this other thing about the man, it just gives me more incentive.”
He smoked quietly for several seconds, as Etta took out a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. “You didn’t finish telling me about Amanda,” she told him, still wanting to change the subject. “I was told she was kidnaped from the train.”
Moss sighed deeply and put out his cigarette. “That’s so,” he answered quietly. “I was wounded tryin’ to stop them, and when I come to I was in Bear River City and four days had gone by. I felt like the dumbest bastard who ever walked. All that time I’d been watchin’ over her, but I couldn’t do anything for her, and it tore my guts out.”
He went on to tell her the whole story, how he had found Amanda and got her to safety, and about the Apache and how he had lost his arm to an Apache warrior’s hatchet in his long search and struggle for revenge against the men who had harmed Amanda.
“Ole Pappy removed the arm, it got so badly infected,” he told her. “He still feels guilty about it, but he shouldn’t. I could have got help, but I refused. I just wanted to get back to Amanda, to take her that crucifix I had got back from those men who stole it from her. If Pappy hadn’t taken the arm, I’d be dead. And I’m used to it now. I don’t think about it much any more. At first I thought it would make me less of a man.” He gazed out the window longingly again. “But Mandy—she changed that for me.”
“You helped her get over her fear of men, and at the same time, she helped teach you that you were still a man yourself.”
“Somethin’ like that. When I make love to her I feel ten feet tall.”
“Aren’t you?” she asked with raised eyebrows. Moss met her eyes and laughed lightly.
“Close to it, I reckon. I never was small.”
“And in her eyes you probably are ten feet tall. You look at her with near devotion in your eyes; perhaps you don’t realize she looks at you the same way. I envy her. I envy both of you.”
Moss just smiled and roved her body with his eyes again.
“You could have any man you wanted, Etta. A woman like you shouldn’t envy anyone.”
“Oh, but I do. I envy Amanda’s ability to love, and especially to love one man, to be true to one man. I tried once, and what I got back was worse than a beating or a rape!” Her voice was bitter now, and she watched the scenery out the window. “Now I’m afraid to love. I have no love left in me. And I’m deathly afraid to ever get married again. It’s better this way.”
“What way? You bein’ no better than a…loose woman?”
“A prostitute?” she added for him. “I detest prostitutes. They’re filth! And then I look in the mirror, and I…” She swallowed and looked at her lap. “I wonder where the difference is, and I realize there is none, except that I don’t accept money for my favors.” She looked up at him with hard, cold eyes. “From now on the only person I care about is me, worthless as I might be. And the only love I have is for my land. Nothing else matters, Moss.”
“You can’t live like that forever, Etta. No woman can live like that forever.”
Their eyes held a moment.
“I think I could be true to one man, be happy with one man, Moss—if the man were you.”
He frowned and leaned back into his seat.
“There’s plenty of men out there, Etta.”
“It’s too bad that there isn’t one more like you, Moses Tucker. I guess that leaves me out in the cold, doesn’t it?”
Their eyes held for a very long time, and the only sound was the rickety-rack of the train as it rolled northward through desolate Utah country.
“I reckon it does,” he finally said. “Least ways for what you’re talkin’ about. Don’t go thinkin’ things that aren’t so, Etta. I’m in this for the money and to get Miles Randall. And maybe somewhere along the way we can at least be friends. In the meantime, I gave you my word to help you, and I will. I won’t let you down.”
“I know you won’t,” she said, a tear slipping down her cheek. “I appreciate your help.” She sighed deeply. “Isn’t it strange, Moss?”
“What is that?”
“Out of all the men I’ve gone to bed with, none of them are really my friends. And the one man I spurned and cursed years ago—the one man who should hate me, the man I do love and have never been to bed with—now he’s the only friend I have. Isn’t life ironic?”
He sighed. “Get some rest now, Etta. I learned a long time ago it’s impossible to figure out life. Fate takes a lot of turns.”
“Yes, it does. Doesn’t it?” She sniffed and put her head back and closed her eyes. But all she could picture was lying in bed with Moss Tucker.
“Whoa! Easy boy!” Sooner shouted to his skittish horse. The animal’s hooves clattered as he led it down the plank from the train car. There were shouts and whistles as the other men led their animals out. Etta watched, and several of the horses snorted and reared when the Union Pacific train engine hissed steam, belched and jolted.
“This is a good idea, Moss,” she told him as they watched. “Stopping the train like this before we get to Rock Springs.”
“No sense goin’ all the way into town and announcin’ our arrival—not if your ex-husband has everybody paid off like you say. I figure we might as well make a surprise entrance to the ranch. You think we’ll get a reception there?”
“I’m sure of it,” she replied, pacing now. “I had hardly any men left. Ralph will have taken it over by now. The buildings and animals are probably all right. He wouldn’t want to destroy what he considers his own now. He’s probably hoping I won’t return at all. But once I’m back and begin showing some force of my own, everything I own will be in danger.”
Moss grasped her shoulder and turned her to face him.
“What about you? Would he hurt you?”
“Only as a last resort. He’d rather have it the easy way, just scare me off. But hurting a woman isn’t beyond him. When we were married…” She looked away. “Never mind. Let’s get started. The ranch is a day’s ride from here.”
“You know something? You never even told me the name of the place or how big it is.”
“And I also never told you what I’m paying you personally for this.”
He shrugged. “I never thought of it. I figured I’m bein’ paid the same as my men.”
He started to turn to get his horse, and she touched his arm. “Two thousand, Moss.”
He turned back around, his eyebrows arched in surprise. “Dollars?”
“Of course!”
He shook his head. “That’s too much.”
“Why? You’re the leader of this bunch. If we succeed, it will be because of you. Besides, you deserve it, after what I did to you eighteen years ago. Maybe this way I can make it up a little.”
His eyes hardened and he jerked away. “You can’t make up for somethin’ like that with money, Etta. Apparently that’s somethin’ you still haven’t learned.”
“Moss, I didn’t mean—”
“Leave it be, Etta! All the money and all the sweet talk in the world isn’t going to make me feel any different about you. I’ll take your money because, by God, you do owe it to me! I’ll take it for Mandy’s sake, to give her a decent house to live in. And I’ll take it because I’m doin’ a job for you, not as some kind of handout to poor Moss Tucker because you hurt his feelings years ago! And I’ll do this job because I aim to get Miles Randall!” He turned again and she grabbed his shirt.
“Moss, I didn’t mean to make you angry. I…I thought you’d be happy ab
out the money. I just wanted to do something nice for you.”
Her eyes teared, but he was not touched. “You lost your chance to do that a long time ago, Etta. It’s a little late. If you want to pay me that much, fine. I’ll take it and enjoy the fact that I earned it after you begged me to help you. I thought maybe you had changed some, but you still judge everything by money, don’t you?”
Her own eyes hardened then. Winning him back looked more and more impossible. She seemed to keep doing and saying all the wrong things. “Think what you want,” she replied curtly. “At any rate the name of the ranch is the E.G., for Etta Graceland. I’m in the process of having my name changed. I want everything about Ralph out of my life, including his name. When I was Etta Graceland, I was…respectable and honored.”
Moss laughed bitterly. “Oh, yes. You were all of that, weren’t you?” He walked to his horse, as the other men were now mounting up. Brad Doolittle brought Etta’s horse to her and gave her a hand into the saddle.
Moss looked around the surrounding scenery. This was magnificent country, so much cooler than Utah this time of year, so much greener. He studied the surrounding Rocky Mountains, their jagged peaks capped with snow and reaching for the heavens. This would be good country for Amanda. Perhaps he should consider moving north.
Etta watched him. She was sure he loved the country already. If only she could convince him to stay with her. She clung to the slim hope that his natural manliness and the love he once had for her would slowly but surely lure him into her bed—and into her life to stay, in spite of his stubborn pride. Here in Wyoming, perhaps he would begin to detest the thought of going back to his small, hot, dusty ranch in southern Utah. And if she were to offer him enough bait…
Moss mounted his horse now. How it stirred her to see him astride a horse. He was as natural on one as a leaf on a tree. He was a big man, and seemed even bigger and more masculine when he sat on the broad-chested buckskin thoroughbred he’d brought with him. He slipped his rifle from its leather holder. The mahogany butt of the well-oiled Winchester glinted in the sunlight. She watched in fascination as he opened the chamber and checked to be sure it was loaded, then closed it and slung it back into its holder, all with speed and ease—and with only one hand. He reached around his left side and whipped out another rifle: a wicked-looking, sawed off shotgun. All the men were checking their arms now—a virtual small army. Etta’s heart pounded with excitement. She had help now. Real men who knew their business! Moss shoved his shotgun back into its berth and slid his revolver from its holster on his hip, whirling the chamber of the Colt .45 double action gun. She noticed the trigger guard was cut away.
Lawless Love Page 30
