Lawless Love

by Rosanne Bittner

  “Where in hell did you get that thing?” Sooner asked him.

  “Hell, I can play it!” Hank replied.

  The men all chuckled and Hank began strumming a lively tune, to everyone’s surprise. As Moss and Damian Kuntz walked off in the distance, Slim Taggart stepped up to Etta.

  “Ma’am, I’m missin’ my wife ’bout as much as Moss is missin’ his. I sure wouldn’t mind steppin’ around a mite with somethin’ soft and pretty, if you’d oblige.”

  Etta smiled and put out her hands.

  “After all you men have done for me?” she replied. “I owe each of you one dance.”

  Slim grinned, took her hands, and they sidestepped back and forth to the banjo music. Soon the men were all clapping their hands, laughing, and taking their turn at a dance with the lovely Etta Landers. Lloyd Duncan watched, his heart burning with jealousy. Since Moses Tucker and his men had entered Etta’s life, she’d not given him the time of day; Lloyd Duncan ached to get back into Etta’s bed.

  “How do I know you aren’t a spy?” Moss asked Kuntz, when they got away from the others. The two men looked straight at each other.

  “You said you could tell a good man when you saw one,” Kuntz replied. “Landers told us a bunch of bull about his wife—how she slept around and all, said she just married him for his money. But it didn’t all quite fit. I mean, maybe she’s a little loose now, but anybody can tell she’s an educated, refined lady. So I kept wondering how a lady like her—why would she lower herself like that?”

  Moss’s eyes turned cold, thinking of the horror a young married girl would feel discovering her husband was a homosexual.

  “So, you finally figured it out?”

  “Mister, I’m like you. I can read people pretty good. And I figure you for a good man, one that wouldn’t lie. So I did some investigating of my own. I won’t go into details except to say that you were right. I can’t stomach working for a man like that, so here I am.”

  Moss studied him closely, then nodded. “Fine. You’re hired. I gotta say I thought maybe Etta made it all up to get me to help her, but she seemed awful serious about it. I feel a little better havin’ somebody else confirm it.”

  Kuntz took out a pipe and began packing it. “Well, I won’t say just how I found out. It almost embarrasses me to talk about something like that. So I’ll let it rest. I’m here to help however I can.”

  Moss waited while the man lit his pipe and puffed it for a moment. “Well, Kuntz, you got any ideas as to how to get Landers out of Etta’s hair for once and for all?” he asked. “I can’t stay here forever. I’ve got a woman of my own to get back to. I’m thinkin’ about bringin’ in a marshal, but that would be a legal mess, and some of my men are wanted. A marshal would make them uneasy, and the waitin’ would make them more uneasy. They’re anxious men, like me—anxious to get the job done. Seems it’s easier just to talk up and pump lead into the man than do things by the system. Simpler that way.”

  Kuntz nodded. “Sometimes it is. There is one way, though, that could at least get things rolling if you want to do this on the up and up. Landers, he’s been sitting around waiting for you to make a move, not sure himself what to do about all this. You and your men are more than he expected. He owns the town and its people, Tucker. But that doesn’t mean they all like him. And I think they’d be glad to be rid of Miles Randall. What you need is more people on your side. Like the ranchers around here who owe Randall money. Some of them have had a hard time and he threatens them. They’d like to see him gone and a more honest man handling their banking affairs.”

  “Then why shouldn’t they help Etta? I’ve been too busy around here to go and see any of them, but I haven’t noticed anybody comin’ around, neither. I know everybody’s busy, just like us, but down in Utah—well, I see my neighbors pretty often, even though we’re far apart.”

  “It’s the water, Tucker. If she’d share the water, she’d get some help.”

  Moss frowned and stamped out his cigarette.

  “What are you talkin’ about?”

  “Didn’t she tell you? The only good water supply around is on Etta Landers’ property, and she won’t let nobody touch it. That’s why she’s got that damned barbed wire fence running around the place. It’s not to keep out enemies. It’s to keep out the other ranchers. And it’s been a dry summer, Mr. Tucker. Them ranchers need that water, and she won’t let them at it. Landers—he’s promised them that if they stay out of it, as this place belongs to him they can have all the water they want. That’s a pretty strong argument, Tucker, to a rancher—even strong enough to keep them from coming to the aid of a helpless woman.”

  Moss’s eyes had darkened with anger as Kuntz spoke, and he turned to leave.

  “Uh, Mr. Tucker?”

  “What?”

  “Where are you headed?”

  “I’ve got a bone to pick with your new boss,” Moss grumbled. He walked straight up to the laughing, dancing crowd and grasped Etta’s arm. “You and me have somethin’ to discuss,” he told her, gripping her arm firmly. “You’ve been holdin’ out on me, lady.”

  “What? What are you talking about?” she asked, swallowing and looking surprised.

  Moss looked at the others. “You men have yourselves a good time. Mrs. Landers will be back soon.” He nodded toward Damian Kuntz, who had hurried to catch up. “He’s one of us now.”

  Without further explanation, Moss walked off with Etta.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  “But I can’t give them that water!” Etta insisted, pacing and wringing her hands together.

  “Are you crazy? If you give them the water, they’ll come over to your side! They’d help you guard this place, Etta, help you keep Landers off it. What are you afraid of?”

  She turned to face him, tears in her eyes. “I’m afraid—afraid to trust anybody, Moss. And—and if I share my water, well, I don’t know. Maybe I’d run out of water, or what if I share it and then need their help some other way, and they don’t help me? I just—Moss, this place is all I have! Don’t you see? And that water is part of it!”

  Moss grasped her arms. “Damn it, if you want to keep this place, then share the water and make friends with your neighbors. You say this is all you’ve got, but it’s never gonna work this way, Etta. And if you want me to help you, then you have to help me!”

  She burst into pitiful sobbing; he pulled her head to his chest and let her cry: choking, wrenching sobs raked up from her soul after years of torment, turmoil, and terrible disappointment.

  “I don’t…have anything!” she wailed, clinging to him tightly.

  “Yes, you do,” he replied with a sigh. His talk with Damian Kuntz had again brought out his pity for her. “You’ve got this place, and you’d have damned good neighbors if you’d share that water. And a lot of the men here—hell, I reckon when this is over they’ll stay on and keep helpin’ you out. And some day you’ll find a man you want to settle with—a man who can be a real man to you, and you can be the kind of woman you was meant to be, Etta.”

  “I only want you,” she cried.

  “Don’t say that, Etta,” he replied quietly. Her body felt good against his, and her light perfume aggravated his baser needs. He gently pushed her away.

  “Why don’t you tell me about Ralph Landers, Etta?”

  She dropped her eyes. “Must I?”

  “I wish you would. Maybe it would be good for you to talk about it instead of keepin’ it inside like you do.”

  She sighed and turned away, walking over to the buffet and opening a bottle of brandy.

  “Would you like some?”

  “Never turn it down,” he replied.

  “You mean your…wife lets you drink?”

  “She knows I can handle it.”

  Etta turned and handed him the drink.

  “After you left—or rather, after I threw you out—daddy moved down to Los Angeles and I, of course, went with him.” She walked over and sat down on a love seat, patting
the cushion next to her in a signal for him to join her there. Moss sat down, looking out of place on the velvet seat in his cotton pants, calico shirt, and slightly worn cowboy boots.

  “I had lots of male escorts to various parties and so forth,” she went on, looking at her drink and swirling it. “Oh, I was quite the fashionable, young, beautiful virgin.” She smiled rather sarcastically. “And I saved myself for the right man. Then Mr. Ralph Landers came to one of daddy’s parties. I looked at him and he was so dashing, so handsome, older, already established in his own law practice. He was a prize catch, and daddy thought so, too. He commented that the man never dated much, but we attributed that to the fact that he was so busy with his career.”

  She sipped her drink and kept staring at it.

  “I had stars in my eyes. And I thought he loved me. It wasn’t until after we were married that I discovered what a greedy man he was. All he wanted was to win me, and win my father’s confidence, to be in charge of our financial affairs, from what I can figure. My father introduced me to Miles Randall. Later on Ralph and Miles became…close…and they cooked up a scheme to rob me and my father of everything we had. Sometimes I think—sometimes I think they had something to do with daddy’s death. But I can’t prove it. They say he died of a heart attack. But he was in good health.”

  She raised her eyes to meet his, and Moss was listening intently. She wondered what went on behind his dark eyes, and where the secret lay to seducing him.

  “I was excited on my wedding day, like any young girl. And I was scared.” She looked at her drink again. “But I was confident that whatever a man expected of a woman in bed—Ralph Landers, with all his worldly experience, would know what to do. We sailed through the wedding and the reception, and I was the envy of all the other young girls there. And then we rode away in a grand carriage, headed for a honeymoon in San Francisco. We stopped at this real fancy hotel, and got a room, and I…wanted to please him. He still acted just fine. We had dinner and some wine, and I went into the powder room to put on a fancy negligee. When I came out he was lying in bed already, and he said he felt sick.”

  She stood up and walked over to refill her glass.

  “Isn’t that a laugh?” she said, her back to him. “I’m the scared young virgin, and he’s the one who claims he’s sick! I always thought it was supposed to be the girl who sometimes messed up the wedding night. There I was, scared to death I’d have to ask him to slow down but instead there I stood, gaping at a sick man. But I was young and in love, and I accepted the fact that he really was sick. I laid down beside him, and I’ll never forget the look in his eyes: like a scared little boy. In a sense I have to feel sorry for him. Something happened to him in his early years. I don’t know what it was, but it made him like he is. I guess I don’t hate him for that. I hate him for marrying me, lying to me about it, shocking me and denying me the chance for a normal married life—and his attempt to cheat me out of everything I had coming to me.”

  She sighed and swallowed her drink, her back still to him.

  “On the second night he—he managed to do something about my virginity. I guess it was his feeble attempt at pretending he was a man. But he was clumsy and quick. And afterward, I just felt sick. It wasn’t the way I’d pictured it at all. I guess even then the idea was growing in my mind that some day I’d have to lie with another man, just to find out if there was something better. A wall started building between us. I was young and inexperienced, and I didn’t know what to say to him, didn’t understand why he seemed to have no interest in his new, young bride. I blamed myself and thought something was wrong with me, thought maybe he’d been so disappointed that first time that he didn’t want me anymore. We smiled a lot, partied a lot, went on to San Francisco and put on a great newlywed show. But something was horribly wrong; I didn’t know what it was, and he wouldn’t discuss it. And then he started asking me to do things I thought were horrible and ugly. I refused. A couple of times he got angry and hit me, but I didn’t care. His strange needs frightened me more than a beating.”

  She quietly poured herself more brandy, and Moss was so full of pity and rage that his head began to ache.

  “I’m sorry, Etta,” he said quietly.

  “I have no one to blame but myself.” She turned to look at him with tear-filled eyes. “Look at the man I could have had.” She feigned a smile and walked toward him.

  “I was so stupid. I still hadn’t caught on. Then after we were married one month I…caught him with Miles Randall. Afterward I threw up for two days and was in bed for a week. And I told him if he ever touched me again I’d kill him. And by God, I meant it!”

  “Why didn’t you just leave him right then?” Moss asked her quietly.

  “I was…too ashamed, even to tell daddy. I was afraid if our marriage failed so soon everyone would think it was my fault rather than his. I was…proud…and deeply hurt, and stubborn…determined to show the world that everything was all right. And soon I was just too damned scared. Because I could see that if I ever left him, he’d take me for everything. And it didn’t take long for me to figure out that he’d do the same to my father, who had entrusted all his money and belongings to Ralph, who was supposed to put it all in trust, and wills, and so on. If I left Ralph and daddy ended up broke, I’d have felt guilty and responsible. I loved my father too much to make him suffer for my own error. Then when daddy died, it gave me the courage to leave Ralph and risk the consequences. By then we’d been living our own separate lies—me with my lovers, and he with his. The only difference was that my affairs were with someone of the opposite sex. His weren’t.”

  She turned and walked back toward him, stumbling slightly from too much brandy drunk too fast. She reached up and took the pins from her hair, letting it fall over her shoulders. Then she unbuttoned the front of her dress, revealing a lacy undergarment and the full breasts that protruded from it. She sat down close to him and leaned forward, putting a hand on Moss’s thigh.

  “Make me feel like a woman, Moss,” she whispered. “Please.”

  Their eyes held for several long seconds. Then he shook his head, feeling only pity.

  “It has to end somewhere, Etta. You can’t go on like this, from man to man. I can get Ralph Landers out of your life, but only you can get all them bad memories out of your mind. And only you can make up your mind to stop lettin’ what he is make you into somethin’ bad, too. You’ve got to be you, Etta, and this is not you.”

  “Moss, please…” she whispered.

  “Stop letting that man destroy you, Etta.” He rose quickly, afraid someone would come in and see her throwing herself at him. “You’re letting Ralph Landers win when you act like that.” He walked over and poured himself another drink. “There’s not much I can do about this part of your problem,” he added. “And I’m damned sorry about it. But all I can do is help you keep the ranch. What you do about the rest is up to you. Tomorrow I’ll go and see the neighboring ranchers and try to get things straightened out.”

  She nodded without looking up from where she sat, surprised at his ability to resist her. It was frustrating. She was accustomed to men falling at her feet, and more disappointing was the fact that she could have had this man at one time.

  “I’m going upstairs,” she told him. “I suddenly don’t feel like partying any more.” Her words were slurred from alcohol, and when she stood up she stumbled. Moss grabbed her and helped her toward the stairway.

  “Come on. I’ll help you to your room so you can sleep this off.” Nearly all his hatred and disgust for her were gone now, leaving simply pity. She slumped to the floor, unable to even climb the steps. He stooped down and worked his way under her, then stood up, slinging her over his shoulder and grasping her around the thighs with his arm to carry her up the stairs. He would have called for help, but he didn’t want the men to see her drunk.

  He quietly mounted the stairs, unaware that Lloyd Duncan had entered the back way looking for her. Duncan had come into the house st
ealthily, sure he would catch Moss Tucker and Etta Landers in each other’s arms. But what he saw was just as frustrating. Moss was hauling her up to her room. Duncan held little doubt as to what Moss intended to do with the obviously drunk woman once he put her on her bed. Duncan watched quietly with clenched fists, afraid to confront Moses Tucker and get into a fight with the man, and hating Moss for stealing Etta Landers from his own arms. He quietly left to get drunk himself, and never knew that only moments later Moss Tucker exited Etta’s room without ever having touched her.

  Mrs. Webster, the small and aging widow who had come to help Etta keep up her large house, now set a cup of strong coffee in front of Moss, who sat at the kitchen table.

  “It’s going to be a hot one, Mr. Tucker.”

  “Appears that way. Thanks for the coffee.”

  “How many eggs this time?”

  “Four ought to do it.”

  The old woman smiled and shook her head. “It’s a good thing this place has its own beef and chickens, else the food wouldn’t last a day with all your men around. I hear tell that old Pappy Lane does a fair job of cooking for the men.”

  “Yeah, Pappy used to do a lot of cookin’ a few years back on the trail, when we herded cattle to Abilene and Dodge City.”

  “Stolen cattle?” she asked chidingly.

  Moss grinned and lit a cigarette. “Sometimes,” he replied.

  “Well, whatever you and your men are, or were, it doesn’t much matter to me. It’s a sorry state Mrs. Landers was in, down to her last man. She wasn’t even sure she’d get away alive to go for help. I’m glad you menfolk came up here to help her, and I don’t mind cooking your meals for you.”

  “Well, I don’t mind eatin’ them, neither,” Moss replied with a chuckle. “You’re a good cook, Mrs. Webster. And I’m glad you’re willin’ to risk comin’ back here to help out Etta. This is a lot of house for one woman.”