Lawless Love Read online

  “But she’s sick, and—”

  “Moss, you ain’t got a choice. We ain’t lettin’ you out of here. So you just fill up on that stew and go over there to a bunk and get some sleep. One of the men will take care of your horse. She’ll be all right, Moss. I seen her eyes light up when I mentioned you was lookin’ for her. She couldn’t say nothing, but I seen her eyes. That gal’s countin’ on you to come, and she’s gonna make damned sure she hangs on till you get there.”

  Moss couldn’t hide his joy at the words.

  “You think so, Lonnie?”

  “I know so. She’ll be all right, Moss. She’s stronger than you might think.”

  Moss frowned and rubbed his forehead. “She, uh, she’s about as innocent as they come, Lonnie. You know what I mean? She—she don’t know nothin’ about men.” He covered his eyes. “Jesus!” he whispered, making a little choking sound.

  The other men in the room turned away, all of them wanting a piece of Rand Barker for themselves now. There was no reason for Moss Tucker to be embarrassed about his feelings, because they all understood how a man felt about his woman. Moss cleared his throat and wearily rose from the chair to walk over to the fireplace. He held his hands out over the flames.

  “There’s a couple of things I want you to understand,” he said to the men quietly. He sniffed and cleared his throat again. “If we find them, Rand and Duke Sage are mine. There’s also a pink-cheeked, blue-eyed, blond young man along by the name of Sollit Weber. He’s mine, too. He’s the one who tricked me on the train and held a gun on Amanda so I couldn’t do nothing.” He wiped at his eyes and coughed. “He’s the first man who’s got the better of me like that, and I think I hate him most of all.”

  “Understood,” one of the men spoke up.

  “You men help me find them, and you can make your own decision about the money they stole from the train. If you want it, keep it. I don’t want none of it. If you want to return it, go ahead. It don’t make no difference either way. I just want Amanda. They also took a valuable crucifix that belonged to her. It’s got fancy stones in it and it’s worth a lot. I don’t want nobody takin’ that. It belongs to Amanda’s mission—the one in California she was travelin’ to where she was gonna teach.”

  “We ain’t the kind to steal crosses,” Lonnie replied. Moss lit a cigar and turned to look at them.

  “None of you have to help at all. It’s up to you.”

  “It’s our duty,” one of the men replied. “Barker overstepped his bounds.”

  Moss eyed all of them, and he trusted all of them.

  “I’m obliged,” he told them.

  “Say, Moss, what was you doin’ on that train in the first place?” Lonnie asked. “Where have you been?”

  Moss puffed the cigar and walked back over to the chair to finish his stew.

  “I’d been back to Chicago to look up my ma, only she was dead. Before that I’d been in jail in California. I worked a while in Chicago, till I got a letter my little girl had been orphaned.”

  “Little girl!” Lonnie said in surprise. Moss grinned a little.

  “Yeah. Back in California. Before I was arrested the last time, I was livin’ with a prostitute. I don’t have no call to believe that during that time she wasn’t true to me. She’d given that life up for the time bein’ for me. Then I got arrested for somethin’ I didn’t do, and later she wrote me she was pregnant. It’s a long story from there. But I’ve never seen the kid. While I was in Chicago, one of her ma’s friends wrote me that her ma died and the kid was homeless. I figured I’d go out there and make sure she got a good home. Figured it was the least I could do. It wouldn’t be no good, me tryin’ to raise her myself.” His eyes teared a little again. “Then I met Miss Amanda Boone. She was pretty and sweet, everything a man looks for. And I seen some interest in her eyes. And I started to thinkin’ about what a good mother she’d make for my little girl.”

  “Sounds like you fell hard and fast, you ole outlaw, you,” Lonnie kidded.

  Moss smiled sadly. “I reckon I did,” he said in a near whisper. “It wasn’t hard.”

  Everyone was silent for a few minutes, while Moss smoked and blinked back tears.

  “She’s gonna be okay, Moss,” Lonnie finally said. “You get some sleep and we’ll head out in the morning. We’ll find her, and she’ll be okay.”

  Moss looked at the man and smiled, his eyes looking tired and bloodshot.

  “She’s gotta be,” he replied. “Or I ain’t even gonna want to live, Lonnie. Can you believe a man like me could feel that way?”

  “Any man can feel that way, Moss.”

  Outside the day darkened into night, the temperature dropped, and snow began to fall.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was a quiet but determined group of men who saddled up the next morning in spite of the bitter cold. Winter would come early. That was evident. The sky on the western horizon was dark and menacing, and the bite of the wind foretold of an early, freak snowstorm for northeastern Utah.

  Moss didn’t have to tell these men how grateful he was for their aid. They already knew. These were the only kind of men Moss Tucker would have wanted along. He’d turned down other help. To search for outlaws like Rand Barker, the same kind of men were needed: men who knew how a man like Barker thinks and acts, men who had ridden the outlaw trail and knew all its hiding places, men like those with Moss now.

  But there was one big difference between these men, and men like Rand Barker and his gang. There was still a little bit of good left in Moss Tucker and the men who would ride with him; there was no good left in Rand Barker and his kind. No good at all. They were all hard meanness: men without feeling, men who lusted for gold, women, and pleasure. Moss thought about how hard it was to draw a line between good and bad when it came to men like those who were helping him now, and when it came to himself. He’d been a mixture of both most of his life. But he knew that if Amanda Boone would marry him, he’d straighten out his life for good. The problem was to find her before she died or was sold off to someone else.

  Five men would ride with Moss. There was, of course, Lonnie Drake, a tall, dark and rangy man with a questionable past, but a man of his word nonetheless. Drake was a drifter, in and out of trouble with the law. He was about forty.

  The other four were all middle-aged. They were drifters like Lonnie Drake and Moss Tucker, all outlaws in one respect or another, and most with reasons for their life style. There was Darrell Hicks, Johnny Pence, Cal Story and Pappy Lane. Moss had met Johnny Pence and Pappy Lane in previous years. And, of course, he’d known Lonnie Drake. All these men were rustlers, but Moss knew he could depend on their word to help. But none of them were true gunfighters, not the kind who would stand in the middle of the street and face a man down. Only Moss was what could be called a gunfighter. But Moss knew that all these men were good shots and didn’t waste bullets, and they finally cornered Rand Barker and the others, they’d all come in handy.

  Pappy Lane was the oldest, in his early fifties. He was a feisty sort, a good aim and well experienced on the trail. Moss was pleased to have Pappy along; as he tightened the cinch on his saddle, it was Pappy who came up to him with further bad news. He stood next to Moss, and the others waited as Moss turned to look at Pappy and noticed the old man held something green in his hands. Moss stared at it a moment, frowning. There was nothing to be said. He reached out and took the article, fingering the green velvet, then putting it to his face and sniffing the lovely, flowery scent. His chest tightened. He lowered the piece of cloth and looked at Pappy with pain-filled eyes.

  “I was ridin’ into Brown’s Park two days ago,” Pappy told him. “Come across a place where somebody had camped and found that there woman’s cape. ’Course I didn’t know then whose it could be, Moss. I kept it and showed it to Lonnie, and that’s when he told me about the woman. I, uh, figured I’d show it to you, see if you recognized it. Thought maybe you’d want it if it was hers.”

  Moss swallowe
d, then quickly turned away and stuffed it into his saddle bag.

  “Thanks, Pappy,” he said quietly.

  “I—I didn’t want to show you last night, you bein’ so tired and upset and all, and your wound hurtin’ like it was.”

  “Sure, Pappy.” Moss swung himself into the saddle.

  “Moss, there’s somethin’ else,” Pappy went on, looking ready to cry himself. Moss’s chest hurt with dread.

  “What?”

  Pappy rested a hand on Red’s neck and looked up at Moss Tucker hesitantly.

  “Well, you ought to prepare yourself, Moss. I mean, she could be raped or dead—or both. Lonnie already said she looked sick.”

  Moss’s eyes glazed with ice. He jerked at his horse’s reins and made the animal snort and move back some. “I know that, Pappy.” He looked out over the rocky horizon. “We’d best get riding. If she gets too sick he’ll dump her—and God only knows where. She’d die without help. Besides that, if she’s no use for takin’ to Mexico, they might decide to all get their share.”

  His rage could be felt by all of them.

  “I don’t think they’ll do that, Moss,” Lonnie spoke up. “They know the only way to even consider gettin’ the rest of us off their backs is to leave her untouched.”

  Moss whirled his horse to face the man. “Maybe so, for most of them, but don’t forget Duke Sage is with them! And when it comes to women, Sage don’t think of nothin’ but what’s below his belt. Let’s move!”

  He dug his heels into Red and rocks flew as he quickly moved out ahead of the others. A light snow had already fallen, and the rest of the men took out after Moss, following his tracks. Moss was already cursing the snow. He was a good tracker, but fresh snow on top of a trail would make his job more difficult, and time was of the essence.

  Rand Barker could now barely hang on to Amanda, who seemed to be only half aware of her predicament. She was now too sick to care, and she sat in front of Barker in a state of floating semiconsciousness, as the cold wind penetrated the blankets that were wrapped around her.

  “Why don’t you dump her, Rand?” Booner spoke up. “She’s gettin’ to be more bother than she’s worth. She ain’t never gonna make it to Mexico. She’s already dying.”

  Rand Barker did not like giving up. He was upset with himself for exposing her to the cold the night he’d let the men laughingly remove her clothes. If she died, he’d lose a valuable source of income, and Moss Tucker and others like him would be deeply angered.

  The wind blew harder and Amanda groaned and slipped to the side of Barker’s horse. He jerked her back up.

  “There’s a little deserted cabin up ahead,” he hollered out, slowing his horse. Snow began falling. “I’m gonna take her there.”

  “What if she dies?” Weber shouted, the wind picking up now and carrying away their voices.

  “They probably won’t find her for a while,” Barker shouted back. “In the meantime, we can make a lot better time without her along. We’ll leave her there and get the hell out of here. If she’s dead when they find her, we’ll be well on our way south. If not, whoever finds her will want to stay on and take care of her. That will give us even more time.”

  “Not if they’re layin’ in wait for us up ahead,” Duke Sage put in.

  “Could be Drake was puttin’ us on when he said they’d be lookin’ for us,” Barker replied. “At any rate we won’t go by way of Robber’s Roost. We’ll head east of there. They won’t find us.”

  “Seems like kind of a waste, just leavin’ her there alone like that,” Duke Sage said, rubbing his chin. “Hell, if we can’t sell her in Mexico, why not get our piece of her now?”

  Barker’s face darkened. “You’ll go on with us, Sage, and you won’t rape her, understand? Our best chance of gettin’ Moss Tucker off our backs is to let him find her alive and untouched! We’ve got enough problems gettin’ out of this area. There’s no sense gettin’ Tucker’s dander up any more than it is!”

  “You scared of Moss Tucker?” the young Dean Taylor asked sarcastically. Taylor had been practicing and was now cocksure of himself. He couldn’t understand why there should be any man Rand Barker was afraid of, unless Barker wasn’t as good with a gun as people claimed he was.

  Barker whirled his horse and glared at Taylor.

  “What was that you said, boy?” he snarled.

  “I asked you a question, Rand. How come you’re so worried about makin’ Moss Tucker mad? You act like you’re scared of him,” Taylor replied with a grin. “Maybe it’s time this outfit was run by somebody with guts who knows how to use his gun and ain’t afraid of some half-baked outlaw who’s seen his day!”

  Barker’s eyes lit up like fire. He pranced his horse over to Duke Sage.

  “Take the girl for a minute!” he growled. Sage grinned.

  “Gladly, boss,” the man replied. He pulled Amanda onto his horse, and she groaned with revulsion when his hands immediately began searching under the blanket. She was so sick. So sick! How she wished she would just die. Nothing mattered any more. Nothing mattered but to die. Who was going to find her in this godforsaken land with its labyrinth of canyons, hidden crevices, and pathways to nowhere? Rand Barker was dismounting. She hung her head and closed her eyes, and didn’t care what was going to happen.

  “Get down off that horse, you smart-mouthed son of a bitch!” Barker snarled to Taylor. “It’s too bad your life has to end at such a young age!”

  Taylor grinned. “I aim to live a long time, Rand. And I aim to be the leader of an outfit like this one. Only I won’t mess things up like you have, ’cause I’m smarter—and I’m faster!”

  The boy went for his gun without dismounting, figuring he’d take Rand Barker by surprise. But Barker had been around too long. Every man present was amazed at Barker’s speed, even though most had seen him draw before. It was something that never ceased to all but shock these men.

  Before Dean Taylor could fire, Barker’s gun went off three times. Two ugly red stains immediately appeared in the middle of Taylor’s chest, and a repulsive hole gaped hideously from the middle of his forehead. He just sat on his horse, rigid and staring in shock, in that last split second realizing he had lost the game. Amanda had jumped at the gunshots and turned on impulse to see what had happened. She stared speechless at Dean Taylor, then began screaming when his body leaned backward and then fell off his horse.

  This last horrible example of the violence of these men was more than she could bear. Her body screamed with pain and fever, and her voice screamed with devastation at the realization of the kind of evil that existed in some men. Her screams could not be controlled. Duke Sage laughed and clung to her as she struggled. She screamed more, like a crazy woman: struggling, biting, kicking, using up her last, precious bit of strength. Rand Barker walked over and grabbed her down off Sage’s horse. Her blankets fell off, and Barker backhanded her hard, knocking her to the ground.

  “Quit your screaming, you goddamned bitch!” he growled. His temper was paper thin now. Dean Taylor had infuriated him by questioning his authority and implying he was afraid of Moss Tucker. He’d killed the boy, and suddenly that wasn’t enough. This woman had caused it all. He wished he’d never brought her along. If not for her, there wouldn’t be nearly so many men out searching for them. He picked her up and hit her again. Amanda tasted blood, but it didn’t seem to matter now. All feeling was gone. Another blow, and everything went black.

  “You boys get moving!” Barker growled. “Leave the kid here to rot! I’ll take the woman to that cabin and dump her there and I’ll be along.”

  Sage rubbed at himself. “You gonna take her, boss?”

  Barker looked around at the men. “I’m gonna show Moss Tucker I ain’t afraid of nobody. Nobody! I’m gonna take her, and nobody else! She’s gonna remember so, if she lives to tell him, she can tell him it was Rand Barker—and nobody else!” His voice had risen to a near scream, he was so filled with rage at Dean Taylor’s accusations. He jerked at Am
anda, pulling her up as he mounted his horse. “You boys get going! Give me a few minutes with the woman, and I’ll be along! I’ll show Moss Tucker! I’ll break in his little virgin. Let him come after me! Just let him!”

  Barker rode off toward a gully where a small, deserted cabin rested, hidden to all but the outlaws who roamed the territory and knew it was there. The others looked at each other and decided they’d best do what he said. They proceeded without Rand Barker. Rand Barker had a job to do.

  Duke Sage burned with envy and jealousy. He’d wanted the woman all along and now Barker would get her, and be the only one besides. He decided that first chance he got, after Barker had rejoined them, he’d cut out and hunt up the cabin. By then Barker wouldn’t care. He’d want to keep heading south, and Duke Sage could have the woman all to himself—to use however he chose. He grinned to himself and kept riding.

  Chapter Sixteen

  For two nights and a day, Moss Tucker and his men made their way south, a damp, cold wind penetrating their clothing, and wet snow from a freak storm plastering their faces. But they continued on relentlessly, knowing their only chance of gaining time was to keep going, with little rest and only short breaks for eating. Sometimes they ate while riding, chewing on jerky and longing for a warm kitchen with fresh coffee, steak, and potatoes. But there would be time enough later for that. There was a woman to be found, and vengeance to fulfill. One thing all of them were good at was tracking. Because of their skill at following prints through difficult terrain, combined with a knowledge of the movements of outlaws, they seldom strayed from the right path, and the distance between themselves and Rand Barker narrowed. Rand Barker would have to move much more cautiously because of the many men after him; and he had the woman along, which would slow him up further.

  Now that snow covered much of the ground, Moss and his men had to move on instinct rather than actual tracking. There was a route that ran all the way from Canada to Mexico that was considered outlaw territory. They knew Rand Barker would stay within that territory, following the most common trails leading southward and not veering away from that path until he reached Robber’s Roost, where he knew men were waiting for him. It was this theory that brought elation to Moss and the others when they found an area where several men had obviously made camp; the spot wasn’t more than a day old.