Lawless Love Read online

  “Let’s keep moving!” Moss told them excitedly.

  “It’s almost dark, Moss,” Lonnie told him. All of them were tired.

  “We’ve got a little daylight left! He’s still goin’ south. You men can come with me or not. But I’m gonna keep goin’ till I can’t see my hand in front of my face.”

  He rode off without waiting for their answer. The others looked at each other, and Pappy shrugged.

  “You heard the man,” he said with a half grin. “Can any of us sit here and worry about our worthless hides, while that girl’s still with Barker?”

  Cal Story rubbed at his eyes and pulled his hat down farther on his brow. “Reckon not. Let’s go,” he grumbled. They headed out, following Moss’s tracks. Moss was himself already out of sight. A day ahead of them lay the body of Dean Taylor, where Rand Barker had left him for the wolves.

  Amanda lay shivering, wrapped in her two blankets and lying on a bare mattress in the tiny, deserted cabin. Her skin was as hot as fire, yet she was cold. Her body was racked with the pain of her own illness and the beating Rand Barker had given her.

  She tried not to think about it. But how could she not think about it? She groaned and began crying again at the memory of the ugliness and the pain of what he had done. Her degradation was beyond description, and she prayed vehemently for death. Her shame was more than she could bear; and the influenza that grabbed her bones and muscles in severe pain only added to her desire to die and be rid of her misery.

  For two nights and a day she lay there without food or heat, slowly dying and not caring. She had been only half-conscious when Rand Barker had his way with her—but half-conscious had been enough. He had knocked her so senseless that taking her was a simple matter. She remembered her screams and his laughter. Outside the cold winds howled, and it was as if her very soul were screaming through the canyons.

  That death would come to her soon, she did not doubt. But what a strange way for her life to end. Had she ever lived in New York and known the sisters? It was all like a dream now. She would never see Father Mitchel or teach at the mission in California. The precious crucifix was gone. And her own precious virginity was gone. Everything was gone. Moss Tucker would never find her in this hidden, lonely cabin in the middle of nowhere. She would die here, her bones would decay here, and that would be that.

  She groaned and tried to move, but her body was paralyzed with pain. Perhaps Rand Barker had broken some of her bones. She cried until there were no more tears, and now she simply floated in and out of consciousness, waiting for her inevitable death. Waiting anxiously.

  Sometimes her mind floated back to Moss Tucker. Why had God allowed their quick friendship? She tried to reason it out. Why had He led them together, and then allowed these horrible things to happen to her? Her faith was dashed into near nothingness. And her feelings for Moss Tucker were confused. So much had changed. What would he think of her now? She felt soiled and dirty. And what did it matter? She was dying anyway—and gladly. But even if she didn’t, no man would ever touch her again. Of that she was certain. Even if she were to love him, he would not touch her. She hated men. She hated life. And yes, she even hated God for having allowed this to happen. No! She mustn’t! She mustn’t hate God.

  Her tears came again. She begged for forgiveness, begged God to reveal to her the reasons for what had happened; and her heart drifted from hatred to love when she thought of Moses Tucker. One moment she was vowing that neither he nor any other man would ever touch her, and the next moment she was praying that God would protect Moss and keep him alive and help him find her. She thought about the love and tenderness in his eyes, the gentleness of his touch. No. He wasn’t like Rand Barker and the others. Yet after what she’d been through, the thought of a man touching her at all brought a sickness to her stomach.

  All these things floated through her tormented mind during the moments when she was conscious, which were becoming fewer. Hunger, sickness, and injuries were taking their toll. Her two thin blankets did little to protect her from the damp coldness of the cabin. Her pain was now compounded by a new pain in her chest and ribs. Pneumonia. She was sure of it. It had not been long since her illness in New York.

  As death came ever closer, the faith she had thought was gone began to renew itself. She did not want to die alone. She wanted her God with her. She lay on the cot, small and dying, curled into a tiny ball beneath the blankets, too weak to try to get up and feed herself or make a fire and much too lost in this wilderness to even consider trying to find her way out. So she would die here in the little cabin. But not alone.

  “Heavenly Father, please don’t desert me,” she prayed. It seemed she was speaking aloud, but in reality, only her lips moved—lips turned blue from the cold. “Please take me to your side. Accept me, oh Lord, for I have committed no sins in my heart. They were forced upon me. Please take me, Lord. Take me to your side. Forgive me for losing my faith.”

  Her mind drifted again, until the door suddenly burst open. She opened her eyes, but could not move—not only from her sickness and pain, but because what she saw froze her with fear and black dread. Duke Sage stood in the doorway, smiling.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Think it’s one of Barker’s men?” Pappy asked Moss. Moss kicked the stiff body over on its back again.

  “He’s just a kid. Must have called Barker out.”

  “Why do you think it was Barker? Why not one of the others?”

  “He’s a punk kid,” Moss replied, lighting a cigar and looking around. “Probably got to thinkin’ he was real good with his gun. Figured the best way to prove it was to go against the best: Barker. But no kid his age is gonna outdo Rand.”

  “You think you could still take him, Moss?” Lonnie asked.

  Moss’s eyes were studying the terrain carefully.

  “I can take him,” he answered quietly.

  He walked over to an indentation in the snow, then walked over to another area. Then his eyes lit up as though he had an idea. He puffed the cigar and looked around again, going back to the first indentation.

  “What is it, Moss?” Pappy asked.

  “They split up,” Moss said, throwing down cigar. “For some reason they split up. One went one way, and the rest went another. See the snow here? It’s lower. They made tracks through the first snow and then some new snow came to cover them, but it’s lower ’cause of the tracks. Look here: a narrow path goin’ out to the west, and the rest goin’ south.”

  He began pacing nervously.

  “Which way do we go?” Lonnie asked.

  Moss studied the single tracks again. “Somethin’ smells. Maybe they let her off! Maybe one man took her someplace to hide her.”

  “If that’s the case she must have been dying, Moss,” Pappy said cautiously.

  Moss studied the pathway. “Could be. If she was, whoever took her to hide her could have—”

  He turned and quickly mounted his horse.

  “I’m goin’ down there. The rest of you go on and follow the other tracks for a ways. Get a good idea which way they’re going, then circle ’round back here. If she’s there, I might need your help in gettin’ her to a safer place.” He blinked back tears. “Or I might need your help buryin’ her.”

  “You watch yourself, Moss. Whoever took her down there might still be there with her.”

  The look in Moss Tucker’s eyes sent chills down their backs.

  “If he is, he’s a dead man!” Moss replied in a growl. He turned his horse and headed down the narrow path that led to a canyon. The others rode on.

  Never had Amanda Boone felt more abandoned by God than when Duke Sage entered the little cabin. To have him touch her would be the final hideous degredation to send her into insanity. She lay still and wide-eyed as Sage closed the door, still grinning, and then walked over to the bed. It was only when he began to bend down that she found the strength to move. She squirmed to the farthest corner of the mattress against the wall, and Duke Sage laughed.


  “You look like a little lost fawn,” he sneered, “waitin’ for her big buck to come along and mate with her.”

  Her fist came to her mouth like a child in fear, and she felt the great sobs of helplessness enveloping her. Her hair was wet with sweat from her raging fever, yet she shivered from cold and fear. Sage bent over the bed and pushed the blankets up, exposing her from the waist down. All she could do was make little animallike squeals. He moved his hand over her as she struggled to pull the blankets back down. Then he laughed and stood up.

  “I’ve wanted you since that first day I grabbed you up on that train, little girl. That damned Rand Barker broke you in, but you’re still bound to be good.”

  He laughed again, and Amanda wished she would quickly die.

  “Well, now,” Sage continued, looking around. “Ain’t no sense rushin’ things. I kind of enjoy watchin’ you squirm. So in order to really enjoy our little go-round, I think I’ll just warm this place up a mite so I can take off my clothes without freezin’ to death.”

  He rubbed his hands together.

  “You stay right here, my little fawn. Before long it’ll be nice and warm in here.”

  He walked over to the bed and grabbed her by the hair, making her groan. “Not so perfect and uppity now, are you?” He slapped her and threw her back down, then went out to get wood. Amanda broke into bitter sobbing, her mind and body screaming to die.

  “Please, please help me, God! Please make him go away!” she whispered between great, jolting sobs that brought pain when her body jerked. She wriggled into the corner again, groaning with revulsion and dread, wishing she had a weapon. She had never thought herself capable of killing. But she could kill now. She could kill Duke Sage if she had a weapon. But to fight him without one would be useless. She had no strength of any kind left. She couldn’t even get up and walk. If God intended to help her, He would simply have to make her die before Duke Sage returned. She lay in the corner, thinking how much worse it would be to be taken by Duke Sage than to simply die.

  By the time Sage returned, her fever and fear had turned her into a moaning, mumbling bundle of flesh that resembled a dying animal more than the young woman she had once been. She lay there, waiting for the inevitable horror. Duke Sage threw some wood into the stone fireplace, cursing and swearing as he tried to get a fire going. In all, it took him nearly an hour to find the wood, bring it in, and get it to burn.

  Finally, it stayed lit. He rubbed his hands together again and chuckled with delight. He removed his hat and coat, then sat down in a chair and removed his boots, looking over at Amanda as he did so.

  “Well, now, this here little cabin is right cozy, or will be before long. A warm fire and a woman in my bed. A man can’t ask for much more than that, can he?” He chuckled and stood up to remove his shirt. Then he rubbed his arms.

  “Still a little too cold,” he said. He took a small bottle of whiskey from his coat pocket and drank some. “Ah—that’ll help warm the blood. Want some?” He held the bottle out to her and she simply closed her eyes and covered her face. She couldn’t bear looking at him. Sage simply chuckled. He came over and sat down on the edge of the bed.

  “Please!” she whimpered from beneath the blankets. “I’m…sick! Please leave me alone.” The blankets shook with her sobs, but Sage only smiled.

  “I wish I’d been the one to be first,” he told her. “Ole Rand looked mighty satisfied when he met up with us. Damn him! But then at least this way, we’ve got lots of time. Rand ain’t gonna bother comin’ back for me. He’ll keep going. In the meantime, you and me, we can have us some fun.”

  Moss spotted the cabin from above, smoke curling out of the chimney. One horse stood tied near the door. His heart pounded. Was she in there? Who was with her? Perhaps it wasn’t Amanda at all. But if it was, he wouldn’t give the man a chance to use her to hide behind. Moss Tucker would not be tricked again. He’d barge in and get the job done and get Amanda away from there, if she was there at all.

  He dismounted and tied Red to a scraggly oak tree. Then he went on down by foot. He was cautious as a cat, bobbing between boulders and trees, quickly descending through the snow. Now he was grateful for the snow, as it softened his steps. He moved ever closer to the cabin, from which no sound came. He pulled the Peacemaker from its holster, smiling to himself at how ironic that it was called “Peacemaker.” Moss Tucker had no intentions of making peace with anyone who might be inside the cabin with Amanda.

  There was only one window, high up. He’d not bother trying to see inside first. He’d simply move in. He crept around the side, then around the corner to the front. The horse tied there looked at him and twitched its ears, and Moss held his breath. But the animal did not whinny. It bent its head and nibbled at some scrubby grass that poked up through the snow. Moss bent over and walked carefully, quietly, along the porch to the door. And then it was time to move, without hesitation. He stood up straight and kicked in the door.

  Duke Sage stood up from the bed, wearing only his long underwear, and holding a bottle of whiskey in his hand. He stood staring in temporary disbelief at the sight of Moss Tucker standing in the doorway. Moss’s eyes moved quickly to the bed, feeling a wrench at his chest at the pitiful bit of woman who looked back at him with wide, green eyes. Her lips moved as though to say his name, but no sound came out. The blankets were pushed to her waist.

  Moss took in the entire scene in a split second. His gun glared at Duke Sage, its cold steel threatening to send a bullet through the ominous hole at the end of the barrel. Sage stared at it, at first dumbstruck. He met Moss Tucker’s eyes, and already felt dead. He backed up, dropping the whiskey bottle.

  “I ain’t touched her, Moss,” he finally choked out.

  “It appears to me you either did, or you sure as hell intended to!” Moss hissed.

  “I didn’t! I swear to God, Moss. I’ve only been here a little while. It—it was Rand! He brought her here first! It was him! A-ask her! She’ll tell you—it was Rand!”

  “And Rand will get his turn with me!” Moss growled. “But you get to be first, you snake-belly!”

  “Wait, Moss—”

  The gun fired, and Amanda’s body jumped at the terrible boom. She whimpered and covered her ears. Duke Sage screamed out and crumpled to the floor, as blood poured from one knee.

  “Bastard!” Moss roared. Sage looked up at him with pleading eyes.

  “God, Moss, let me go!” he groaned. “I’ll help you find Rand!”

  “I can find Rand all by myself!” Moss growled. He fired again, directly into Duke Sage’s privates. Amanda covered her eyes and shook. Duke Sage’s screams brought an ugly knot to her stomach. Never had she dreamed men could be so violent. Yet it was Moss! It was him! And the terrible thing he was doing was for her vengeance. Her mind raced with confusion and fear as Duke Sage begged for his life, and then begged for death. Moss walked over and placed his gun directly against Duke Sage’s forehead.

  “You ain’t never gonna hurt another woman again, Sage!” he said quietly, his voice cold steel. He calmly pulled the trigger. The bullet did not exit Duke Sage’s skull. Moss backed up and let the body slump to the floor. Then he took the man’s wrist and dragged the body outside, kicking it into the snow. He stood there a moment, filled with rage and remorse and wanting to cry at the pitiful condition in which he’d seen Amanda. She would need him now, but he wasn’t sure he could even face her. It was his fault she was here. He couldn’t be sure if it had been only Rand Barker, or all of them. Either way, they had taken his woman. No. She wasn’t really his woman. She belonged to herself. But they had violated her. They had stolen something precious and beautiful. How he wished he could change it all for her! How he wished she’d let him make love to her and show her how lovely it could be. But that could never happen now.

  He put his gun in its holster and forced himself to walk back inside. Their eyes met, and she cowered into the corner, making animal-like choking sounds and struggling to
keep herself covered. Moss closed the door to keep out the cold air. He walked over to the bed, not speaking.

  “Don’t be…like them!” she whined.

  His eyes teared.

  “My God, Mandy, how could you think that?” he said in a choked voice.

  “Don’t…look at me!” she sobbed.

  He took off his wolf-skin coat. “Let me help you, Mandy,” he said quietly. “You’re sick.” He reached out with the coat, cautiously climbing onto the bed. The terror in her eyes tore at his heart. He put the coat over her. “I’m—sorry, Mandy,” he said, his voice choking up again. “This is all my fault. I—failed you.”

  The pain in his eyes and the gentle sorrow in his voice removed some of her fear. This was Moss Tucker, the man who had been so kind to her.

  “You couldn’t help it,” she whispered. “You…tried. And you looked for me.” She choked in a sob, grasping the beautifully warm coat tight around her neck. “Moss—they—those men—”

  “We won’t talk about it now, honey. All we’re gonna think about is gettin’ you well.” He reached out and hesitantly touched her forehead. “My God, you’re burnin’ up! I’ll build up the fire!”

  “No!” she whimpered when he got up. He turned to look at her, puzzled.

  “What?”

  “Take me…out of here!” she said in a tiny voice, beginning to shake more again. “Please! Please, Moss! I…hate this…cabin! Take me…away! Please! Please!”

  He sighed. “Mandy, it’s blowin’ and snowin’ out there.”

  “I don’t care!” she choked out. She broke into a fit of coughing, and more tears came from the pain in her chest and ribs. “I don’t care…if I die,” she groaned. “Take me…away from here!”