“I’m afraid not,” Amanda replied coolly. Then she remembered her Christian faith and squeezed Etta’s hand. “But what’s past is past. You’re welcome here. I don’t know what your business is, but I know you’re tired. So just have a seat and I’ll make you some tea. When Moss gets here, you can tell us both why you’ve come.”
“Oh, I would like some tea. Thank you so much.” The woman’s eyes and manner did not seem to warm to Amanda’s sincere attempt at making her welcome. Amanda released her hand and walked over to fix the tea.
“Will Moss be back soon?” Etta asked.
“I sent Pappy for him. He’s out south of the ranch, looking for strays and riding with our little girl.”
“You mean his little girl, don’t you?” the woman said, rather sarcastically. “I heard about Moss and that tramp he lived with after he got out of prison. I must say, he could have done better than that.”
Amanda’s jealousy turned to anger, and she turned to glare at Etta Landers.
“He tried to do better than that once,” she said quietly, her eyes boring into Etta’s. “But I believe the woman considered herself too good for him.” The two women stared at each other a moment, then Etta flashed a lovely smile.
“Oh, don’t mind me, Mrs. Tucker, I mean Amanda. I’ve just—I’ve been through so much the last couple of years that it’s made me rather bitter and not a very nice person, I’m afraid. It wasn’t very kind of me to mention that woman. Besides, now Moss has you. Why, I hear you’re just a dear.” Her eyes ran over Amanda’s supple, young body quickly, noting the natural beauty of the young woman and feeling her own jealousy. “They even say you once intended to be a nun. Is that true?”
Amanda could not be sure if the woman was serious or laughing beneath the cold, blue eyes.
“Yes,” she replied quickly. “I was raised and educated by nuns in an orphanage in New York. But then I met Moss on my way to California to teach.” Her eyes softened at the memory of the kindness Moss had shown her on the train trip west, and the feelings she had had for the man—feelings new and strange for a young virgin who knew nothing of life and men.
“Yes, I’ve heard the story. I must say, when I set out to trace down Moses Tucker, I set myself up for some wild tales! Were you actually captured by notorious outlaws and stolen away, and then rescued by Moss Tucker?”
Amanda’s eyes filled with pain and remembered fear and horror.
“I’d rather not talk about it. It’s over now,” she replied, turning to remove the biscuits from the baking sheet and place them in a basket.
“Oh, but of course,” Etta replied coolly, studying the young woman again, and wondering if she truly had been raped. “And, uh, you look so much younger than Moss. I mean, Moss must be…let’s see—”
“Moss is forty-three, and I’m twenty-seven,” Amanda told her curtly, placing a cloth napkin over the top of the biscuits and setting the basket on the table. “Little Rebecca is seven, in case you’re wondering about that, too. And how old are you, if I may ask?”
Etta’s eyes iced over. “I’m thirty-six now.”
“Well,” Amanda replied with a feigned smile. “You don’t look your age at all.” She turned and walked into the bedroom to quickly check her face and hair and make sure all the flour was gone. She was glad that she was younger than Etta Landers, although it didn’t seem to matter—not when considering the woman’s looks and stylish clothing. Amanda looked down at her plain, gray cotton dress. Then she raised her eyes to the small crucifix sitting on her dresser. She walked up and touched the cross.
“Holy Mary, Mother of God, forgive my vanity and my jealousy,” she whispered. “Moss is a good, good man, and a good husband. I have no reason to feel this way. Help me to treat Mrs. Landers with respect and love.”
Just then she heard horses, and she heard Moss’s voice, and little Becky laughing. She hurried out into the main room and opened the door to see Moss talking to Pappy. Another ranch hand was helping Becky down from her horse, while Moss dismounted and glanced at the house. He caught Amanda’s eyes. He smiled briefly, then said something more to Pappy and walked toward the house. He removed his hat on the way and banged it against his pants to pound the dust out of both. Sweat streaked the handsome, dark face, and Amanda watched him lovingly as he approached. He didn’t look or act his age, and every part of him—every movement and every muscle of the large, sturdy frame that stood over six feet in height—bespoke the man that he was, even though he had only one arm. With a man like Moss, a person quickly forgot the missing limb. His manliness and strength shone through so readily that it seemed inconsequential. She suddenly realized that Etta Landers did not know—or if she did, had not seen Moses Tucker since he lost his arm.
“Hi, Mandy,” Moss greeted her when he came up the steps. He grabbed her up in his strong, right arm and kissed her lightly. Then their eyes held for a moment, and she knew all she needed to know. “It’s all right,” he said quietly, now kissing her forehead. She just nodded, suddenly wanting to cry, as Becky rushed past them into the house.
“Daddy! Daddy! There’s a pretty lady in here to see you!” the little girl shouted moments later, coming back to the door.
Moss frowned slightly and gave Amanda one more squeeze.
“I know. Let’s go meet her,” he replied rather reluctantly. They stepped inside together.
Etta rose, now flushed and not quite so sure of herself.
“Moss!” she said softly. “I—it’s so good to see you!” She glanced briefly at the left shirt-sleeve that was rolled up and pinned beneath what was left of his left arm. “I heard about your arm. I’m so sorry.”
Amanda moved away from him, gently pulling Becky away from Etta. The little girl was staring at the puffy scallops of Etta’s soft blue riding habit, and was touching them with her pudgy fingers.
“Why don’t you go to the bunkhouse and eat lunch with Pappy today,” Amanda said quietly to the child, as Moss and Etta simply stared at each other. “Wanda came and cooked for them today.”
“She did? I can eat with Pappy?”
“Yes, dear, go ahead.”
“Wanda said she’d show me how the Navaho ladies make their baskets! She said she could show me how to make one good enough to hold water!”
“Good, Becky,” Amanda replied softly. “Run along then.”
The child flew out the door, and Amanda began to blush with slight embarrassment, as Moss had not yet said a word of greeting to Etta Landers. Etta herself was reddening with indignation.
“Well, I thought you’d be a little bit happy to see me, Moss,” she finally said, turning away slightly.
“Why should I be?” he replied. “What the hell did you expect, Etta? That I should greet you with smiles and kisses?” His eyes moved to Amanda. “I’m goin’ into the bedroom to wash up.” Then his eyes returned to Etta. “I imagine I don’t look too good to Mrs. Landers here,” he added with a slight sneer. “She prefers suits and silk vests.”
“Moss, please!” Etta said in a near whisper. “Even—even your wife told me what’s past is past.”
“My wife’s a good person,” he replied tartly. “The kind of goodness you’d never understand.”
He turned and left the room, and Amanda quickly prepared more tea.
“I’m sorry, Etta. But the things that happened with you and your father out in California left Moss very bitter. Prison didn’t help.”
“No, I—I guess not. Perhaps I shouldn’t have come. But I didn’t know who else to ask. And everyone says Moss is so good with a gun—”
“A gun!” Amanda exclaimed. Her heart pounded with fear. She had nearly lost him once. She did not like the feeling. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, I—I’ll explain when he returns, if he’ll talk to me at all.”
“I don’t want Moss put in danger, Etta,” Amanda said flatly. “He’s through with that kind of life—violence and guns. He’s through with it.” She turned away to dish out some
stew, and Etta watched her, smiling lightly.
Moss reentered the room, his thick, dark hair now neatly combed, and the streaks of sweat washed from his darkly tanned face. His huge frame seemed to fill the room, and Etta felt a deep stirring. She suddenly regretted turning him away and demanding he get out of her life so many years earlier. It would surely be very pleasant to share a bed with Moses Tucker, certainly more enjoyable than it had been with her own husband or any of her lovers.
Etta sat down at the table, where Amanda was placing bowls of stew. Moss sat down wearily in a chair at the head of the table.
“Becky’s not gonna have one feminine habit left if you keep lettin’ her go and eat at the bunkhouse,” he commented to Amanda with a wink.
“She loves it. And out here she might as well learn to be as tough as any man,” Amanda replied. She set his stew in front of him and bent down to kiss his hair. “Perhaps you’d like me to go out there with them, so you and Etta can talk about whatever she wants to discuss alone.”
“You sit right down to the table with me, Mandy,” he replied. “Anything we’ve got to say can be said in front of you.” He looked at Etta at last, his eyes taking a quick scan of her voluptuous form. Old emotions gnawed at his heart, painfully and rudely awakened by someone from the past. “Start talking, Etta.”
He put a spoonful of stew in his mouth, and Etta swallowed with nervousness. What had she expected? That he would be overjoyed at seeing her and instantly in love with her again? It was a foolish hope. The man obviously had himself a lovely, young wife who was very good to him. Why had she even come?
“Moss, I—I want to tell you first that I didn’t have anything to do with—with what happened—with the banker in Nevada, I mean. Well, I mean, daddy didn’t tell me—not till years later, Moss, after it was too late—”
“Don’t lie to me, Etta!” he grumbled. “Your pa found out I was a bastard, my ma a prostitute. So I wasn’t good enough for you, even though I’d made my own little fortune with my gold mine—a gold mine I sweat and toiled at for five long years. Five long years!”
His voice rose now and he stood up, suddenly no longer hungry. Amanda stood near the stove, her heart aching for him.
“I worked hard to make somethin’ of myself, Etta! And I loved you, wanted to marry you! And you turned and threw it all in my face like my feelings didn’t mean a thing! Bastard, you called me! A worthless bastard! Told me you wanted to puke at the thought of me puttin’ my hands on you! And as if that wasn’t bad enough, after you jilted me I went back to Nevada and was told my money was gone—all of it! Every last penny! Cheated—that’s what I was! Cheated! By your pa and that goddamned banker, Miles Randall!”
“Moss, please don’t cuss,” Amanda said quietly.
The man sighed and ran a hand through his hair, as Etta sat at the table looking ready to cry. She stared at the biscuits as Moss rambled on.
“Even if you did find out your pa planned it all, even if you did find that out after I got out of prison for half-killin’ that banker, you still could have come forward and cleared my name. But you just let it lie. Why didn’t you come forward and help me, Etta? Why?”
“I—I couldn’t get daddy in trouble, Moss.”
He laughed sarcastically. “No, of course not. Daddy always came first, didn’t he?”
“Why did you turn to outlaw life?” Etta asked in a choked voice.
“I tried to find you, Etta, after I got out of prison. But you were gone—run off and married that fancy lawyer, gone on down to Los Angeles. What could I do then? You’d turned me away, helped hide facts that could have kept me from prison, and you never even wrote me or tried to find out what it was like for me in that stinkin’ prison!”
“Moss, I was younger then. I—I only listened to what daddy told me. I was spoiled and terrible. I know that.”
“And don’t try to tell me you’re different now,” he growled. “I’m not the same dumb bastard I was then, Etta! And I’m not stupid enough to think you came here just for a friendly visit, to renew old friendships!”
“Moss, don’t be so cruel,” Amanda said softly. He turned to face his wife, and their eyes held for a moment. He pulled a prerolled cigarette from his shirt and lit it.
“You ask Etta about cruelty. She can tell you all about it, Mandy,” he replied coldly. He sat back down in his chair, and Etta raised her eyes to meet his. Her eyes were full of tears, and he wondered if they were genuine or part of an act. Etta Landers was a magnificent actress, depending on the occasion.
“You haven’t answered my question,” she told him. “Why did you start riding with outlaws?”
He took a deep drag on his cigarette.
“Etta, when a man gives all he’s got to make somethin’ of himself, and gives his heart and soul to a woman, then has both things grabbed right out from under his nose, he don’t much care about anything for a while. And I’d been in prison for five years. Prison don’t help a man, Etta. It only makes him worse. I didn’t have nothin’; all that money I’d worked for and the woman I thought I loved was gone. I didn’t give a damn. So I took up with some men I’d met in prison. I rustled horses and cattle, even robbed a few banks. I still hate banks—and bankers. Then I finally straightened out some, went back to California, and got a job.”
“Is that where you met the child’s mother?” Etta asked rather disdainfully. She saw the remark surprised him. “I’ve done my homework, Moss. In my attempt to find you, I’ve learned a lot about you. The little girl’s mother was a prostitute, was she not?”
“Betsy Malone was a nice girl,” he said flatly, glaring at her. “She was a mixed-up kid, but she was good to me and true to me.”
“And why didn’t you marry her?”
“Because I got accused of somethin’ I didn’t do and went back to prison,” he replied coldly. “By the time I got out I figured I wasn’t much use as a father to a little girl, so I went back to Chicago to look up my ma. Then Betsy died, and I was on my way out to California to see to her when I met up with Amanda here.”
He leaned back and actually smiled. “That’s when my life finally started goin’ right. I married Mandy and we went and got my little girl. That was five years ago.”
“You seem to be very happy.”
“A man couldn’t ask for better,” he replied proudly.
Etta wanted to ask more about Amanda, about the story of how she and Moses Tucker met. But she decided against it. This was not the time. Perhaps Moss wouldn’t want to talk about it in front of his young wife.
“I’m…glad that you’re happy now, Moss. I truly am.” Etta seemed to be struggling for the words, and if she was acting, it was very difficult to tell. To Amanda her words sounded sincere, and now a tear slipped down her cheek. “I can’t…apologize enough, Moss, for the cruel words I spoke…that last day I saw you. But, my God, Moss, I was only eighteen then! I didn’t know anything about life—what was real, what had true value and what didn’t. And I swear to God I had nothing to do with that bank swindle. I didn’t know about that till later. Truly, Moss!” Her eyes met his pleadingly. “Can’t we just…forget all that…and be friends? I—I need help, Moss. I don’t know who else to ask.”
“You need help?” he asked sarcastically. Amanda walked over and put her hands on his shoulders.
“Calm down, Moss,” she said softly. “Can’t you see how upset she is? Let her tell us why she came here. Surely the fact that she’s even here—knowing how you probably felt about her and all—surely that means something, Moss.”
He reached up and took her hand.
“I’m sayin’ you don’t know her, Mandy,” he said softly. Etta dabbed at her tears with a lace hanky.
“Perhaps not. But I do remember a time when I was in trouble and had no one to depend on except you,” Amanda replied. He looked up at her and she blinked back tears. “Give her the benefit of the doubt, Moss.”
He put Amanda’s hand to his lips and kissed the palm. Then Amanda
walked over and put a hand on Etta’s shoulder.
“I want you to eat, Etta. You and Moss both. Eat now, and then you can tell us all about it. There will be no more harsh words.” She looked chidingly at her husband. “No more harsh words in my house.”
Moss returned a look of love, half grinning at her words, which he knew were final. Amanda Tucker was not a woman to say cruel words or hold grudges. To him she was nothing short of a saint. She was everything he’d ever wanted in a woman. His love for Etta had been more an infatuation with someone from a world of wealth he never dreamed he could have. But he’d been much younger then, more foolish. Now he’d found what real quality was. And it was all wrapped up in Amanda: all the softness, loyalty, and love a man could ask for.
For the next few minutes nothing more was said. Moss put out his cigarette and began to eat. Etta sniffed and blew her nose, and began eating, surprised and pleased at the deliciousness of the stew.
“I see your lovely wife can even cook well,” she finally spoke up.
“Amanda does everything good,” Moss returned, breaking open a biscuit to butter it. Amanda blushed deeply and continued eating. She glanced sideways at Moss and he grinned at her; Etta felt a sharp stab of jealousy watching them.
“You go and have a seat in the rocker,” Amanda told Etta when they finished. “Moss and I will pull up some chairs, and you can tell us why you’re here.”
Amanda’s voice was cool and collected. All jealousy was gone now. For whatever Etta Landers was, she was still a woman—and apparently she was a woman in trouble. Amanda could not find it in her heart to be angry with the woman. What had happened had been long ago, and now Moss Tucker belonged to Amanda. It was unchristian to feel hatred or jealousy for Etta, or to turn the woman away without giving her a chance to explain herself.
“I’ll get us all some coffee,” she told them.
Etta rose and walked to the rocker, a graceful package of woman who looked far younger than her thirty-six years. Moss remained suspicious, but he knew Amanda hated arguments and raised voices, and above all, cursing. So he would try to hold his temper. He pulled a kitchen chair over in front of the hearth where Etta now reclined in the rocker, and lit another cigarette. Again there was silence. Etta’s eyes met Moss Tucker’s eyes, and they held for a moment. Both thought of things that could have been. But only for a moment. Amanda carried over a tray with three cups of coffee. She set it on a stool and handed a cup to Etta. Moss picked up his own, and Amanda took hers and sat down.
Lawless Love Page 24