Moss froze, staring at it, then trembling with remorse and devastation. Mandy! He could not do this to his beautiful, trusting Mandy! Etta saw the look in his eyes and began to cry.
“No, Moss!” she whimpered. “It doesn’t matter! Please don’t do this, Moss! I love you! I need you!”
He studied her blue eyes almost apologetically. “I can’t, Etta,” he whispered, moving off of her and flopping down on his back. “I can’t.”
She rolled to her side and wept bitterly. He turned and put a hand on her shoulder, pressing it gently.
“Etta, if you really love me like you say, then leave now, before I cheat on the best woman a man ever had. I just—I love her too much, Etta. She trusts me. Why do you insist on makin’ it so hard for me?”
“Because I love you, too,” she wept.
He felt like his whole body was exploding. Never had he gone through such torment sexually. Not many men would turn down a woman like Etta, no matter how much they loved their wives. There she lay, writhing beneath him, practically begging for it. But there also hung the crucifix.
“We must never let anything—or anyone—come between us,” the letter had said. “What we have is from God…the bed is the loneliest place of all.”
“My wife is down in Utah, Etta,” he said softly. “And she’s got needs, too—same as you and me. Only there’s no way she’d lay with a man just to relieve herself. And there’s no way I can lay with another woman for that reason alone neither. Why should it be okay for me, and not for her?”
“But that’s the way it’s always been.” Etta groaned, turning to face him and frantic at the thought of losing the battle after coming so close. “No one would blame you, Moss. No one. Do you think those men out there would really care?”
“It ain’t them I’m thinkin’ about—just Mandy. And who says it’s okay for a man to do what he wants? Just other people who want it to be that way. But it ain’t that way when you really love somebody—not when they’re still alive and well and waitin’ faithfully for you to come back.”
Her eyes widened with rage and unrequited love. She pushed at him and sat up. Every bone and muscle in Moss’s body ached for her, in spite of his decision against taking the woman. The experience had made him long for Amanda to the point of agony.
“Etta, I—”
“I hate you!” she choked out, jumping off the bed to her feet. She whirled to face him, and he pulled the sheet over his nakedness. “How can you be so cruel!”
“How can you be so cruel! I came here to help you, risked my life for you, could have lost my other arm—and you insist on flauntin’ yourself in front of me till you just about drive me crazy! You know how I feel about Amanda!”
“I thought you were a man!”
His eyes blazed, and he lurched toward her, grasping one of her wrists. He yanked her to the bed roughly and kissed her hard, hurting her lips. She was surprised by the power in his wounded arm, and she returned his kiss hungrily. Then Moss released her lips and spoke to her through gritted teeth, his jaws flexing in anger, faint bruises still visible through the dark skin of his face.
“I am a man, and what you’re doin’ to me is as bad as tryin’ to shoot me! I would have been your man all these years if you’d have taken me in the first place, Etta! But you threw me out, remember? My ‘bloodlines’ wasn’t good enough for you! My ma was a whore, and I never knew my pa. And when your father had me investigated and found that out, you looked at me like I was filth! Filth! And then your pa had every penny I owned stolen from me! So don’t tell me about bein’ cruel, Etta. And don’t tell me I’m not a man. I loved you. And if you hadn’t been so high and mighty that you couldn’t let me touch you after you knew I was a bastard, it’s me who’d have been in your bed every night all these years. Me! But you didn’t want me. And you ended up with that handsome pervert of a husband. Now you want me back!”
He sat up and jerked her up roughly, then gave her a shove. She rolled off the bed onto the floor with a gasp.
“Well, you can’t have me!” he growled. “I belong to another woman now! And I’m not gonna break her heart, you hear? You can think what you want of me, but I’m not gonna be untrue to Mandy. There’s no other woman I want to get inside of anyway, includin’ you! Now get out of here!”
She struggled to her feet and fled the room. Moss rolled over and groaned. He vowed then and there that in two or three days, when he felt good enough to ride, he would go into town and clean the place out—get a confession out of Ralph Landers and Miles Randall, and perhaps kill them both. Then he would get home to his own woman.
He felt weak and breathless in his need, and he found it amazing that he—a man who had known so many women and who had led a life of total abandon for so many years—could be so tightly held now by one small, young woman who spoke so softly and blushed at a kiss. How could a tiny, quiet woman like Amanda have such powers? Etta had the power, the money, the ability to scheme, and yes, she was even more beautiful; yet she couldn’t touch Moss Tucker. It was the quiet and unassuming Amanda who could take a big man like Moss and make him submit with just one blush.
Etta did not come to Moss’s room at all the next day. He considered it just as well. Pappy came in and helped Moss dress, as Moss decided he’d been in bed long enough. Pappy argued with him about it, but Moss was getting restless.
“I want to eat breakfast downstairs,” he told Pappy. “And bring all the boys inside. I want to make some plans. If I have to be away from Mandy much longer I’ll lose my mind.”
“Gettin’ to you, huh?” Pappy asked with a wink. He buttoned Moss’s shirt for him.
“More than you know,” Moss replied sullenly.
“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea,” the old man replied. “I know Etta Landers come in here last night. I heard voices and I seen her come runnin’ out cryin’. What happened?”
“What do you think? I hope I never have to go through somethin’ like that again. The pain was almost worse than my arm.”
Pappy chuckled. “I’m proud of you, Moss. Ain’t no way on God’s earth that you’ve got a right to cheat on Mandy.”
“I know that. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me or ever will, Pappy. She’s changed my whole life, picked up the pieces and put them all back together again.”
“That’s right. You’re better off to save things for your wife. If everybody gave in to their baser needs, folks might as well not even marry.”
Moss chuckled.
“I gotta say, you don’t look none the worse this morning, Moss. You’re lookin’ good.”
“I feel good. I have my arm!” Moss replied with a smile, making a fist and raising his arm into the air. Pappy smiled and they walked downstairs.
Outside Etta went for a morning walk, still frustrated and infuriated and hurt. She suddenly hated Amanda Tucker with a passion! How did the woman do it! How did she keep her claws so tightly embedded in a man like Moss! She envied Amanda, wishing she had that certain inner beauty that women like that one had. How jealous she was that Amanda had Moss in her bed at night! She couldn’t get the memory out of her mind of how Moss had kissed her, touched her. To have him between her legs would be sheer ecstasy, and she had failed in her final effort! She kicked at a stone.
Pappy called the men to the house, and she watched them go. Sooner walked by her, warning her on his way to stick close to the house and not wander too far off.
“Moss is up and dressed!” Pappy was shouting.
“Hey, ain’t that great?” Sooner said to her.
“It’s wonderful,” she replied with a feigned smile. “I’ve already seen him.”
Sooner hurried on, and she stood there, wondering where to go from there. She walked a little further down past the corral and saw a rider coming. From the distance she could see it was only a small boy, so she just watched curiously without calling out for anyone. The child came closer, and she recognized him as Mrs. Webster’s grandson.
“Hello, Tommy,” Etta called out.
“Hello, ma’am,” the dark-haired child replied. The nine-year-old boy rode proudly on his full-grown mare. “My father was in town yesterday. Grandma told us about Mr. Tucker. Is he better?”
“Yes, Tommy. You mean your family is talking to your grandmother, even though she’s working for me again?”
“Father heard from grandma that you meant what you said about sharing the water. He wants to know if it’s true.”
“It’s true,” Etta replied. “How did you ride in here, Tommy?”
“The man watching the south gate, Damian Kuntz, he saw me coming and let me through. Father brought back the mail from town, and there were two things for you, ma’am. He said even if he’s sore at you, he didn’t have any right keeping your mail from you. And one of them is a wire for Mr. Tucker from Utah.”
“Well, thank you, Tommy,” she replied, reaching out to take the mail. “I hope your father realizes that it was Paul Simpson’s fault, what happened to Moses Tucker. Mr. Simpson had no right to do that to Moss, when he went there as a friend.”
“Yes, ma’am. Father thinks Mr. Simpson was wrong, too.”
“I’m glad. Your grandmother is a good person, Tommy. And so are you. I wish all of the neighbors would realize that I’m not their enemy. I was just afraid to share the water, Tommy.”
“I’ll tell my dad that, ma’am. Is grandma okay?”
“She’s fine. The big house and all the men here keep her busy. She’s cooking something for all of them right now.”
“Oh. I’ll leave then. Bye, Mrs. Landers.”
“Good-bye, Tommy.”
The boy turned his horse and trotted away, and she saw a glimmer of hope that she could still get along with her neighbors. She looked at the envelopes: a yellow one, the telegram from Utah; and a white one, a letter from the attorney she’d found in Montana whom she felt she could trust. She’d been waiting anxiously to hear from him. She tore open the letter.
Everything in order. You are officially Miss Etta Graceland again. Your request to place your ranch in both your name and that of Moses Edgar Tucker has also been satisfied. As you preferred, all pertinent papers to this effect are being held at this office for safe keeping. If you will sign the enclosed affidavit, and have Mr. Tucker sign…
“Tommy! Wait!” Etta called out. Someone came to the kitchen door of the house, and Tommy turned his horse.
“Who’s there?” Sooner called out.
“Oh, just a little boy bringing some mail,” Etta replied.
“Everything okay?”
“Fine, Sooner. Go on with your meeting.” She turned to Tommy. “Tommy, I’ll give you two dollars if you don’t tell anyone what mail you brought or where it was from.”
“Why, ma’am?”
“Just do it,” she replied. “You come around again next week to visit your grandmother, and I’ll pay you then.”
“Okay,” he replied with a shrug.
“Wait just a moment. I want to sign something and put it in this return envelope. And I want you to take it to town and mail it for me, will you? My attorney already covered the postage fee.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Wait.” She hurried into a bunkhouse and hunted around for a fountain pen in the desk that was kept there. She breathed a sigh of relief when she found it. She scratched out her name on the affidavit, then wrote Moss’s name above the line where it was requested. She changed the writing to make it look as though someone else besides herself had written it. Then she folded the paper and stuffed it into the envelope, running back outside to Tommy.
“Thank you, Tommy,” she told the boy. “You can go now.”
“You sure this time?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” she replied with a smile.
The boy headed out again, and Amanda glanced at the house. Damian Kuntz was far away at the south gate. Two other men were out riding the perimeter again, and the rest were inside the house with Moss making plans. Etta Landers, now Etta Graceland again, had begun her own plans long before she even went to get Moses Tucker. She had been sure at the time, once she heard he was alive and well and living in Utah, that she could easily win back the lower-class man who had once been so infatuated with her. She had thought it would be so simple to walk back into his life, even though he was now married to someone else: so sure that she had gone ahead and placed her property in his name also. What man wouldn’t leave a worthless ranch in hot Utah and a plain little wife for a vast estate in Wyoming, with prime beef cattle and a beautiful woman who loved him? She frowned.
“Moses Tucker wouldn’t!” she grumbled. “Well, maybe now things will change. I’m handing him a man’s dream. He’s got to break sometime! If only—if only there weren’t an Amanda Tucker.”
She looked down at the yellow envelope now, turning it over in her hand. Was it from Amanda? Of course. Who else? She looked toward the house, then back at the envelope. She walked around behind the bunkhouse and tore it open, curious to know what kind of wire Amanda would write, and already determined not to give it to Moss.
“Come right away,” it read. Etta frowned, not expecting such a telegram. “Amanda missing. Becky hurt. Out searching. Need you immediately. Sorry. Real sorry. Doing everything we can. Sent out soldiers. Buck.”
Etta folded the telegram and looked out over the valley. So, Lloyd Duncan had gone to Utah! There was no other explanation. This was his and Ralph’s scheme for getting rid of Moss Tucker quickly and peacefully.
“Well, it won’t work!” she said to herself, thinking only of the husband she hated. “Amanda Tucker can fend for herself! I’ll not let Moss and his men leave now. I need them! And if Amanda Tucker dies, all the better for me!”
She walked around the building and toward the house, shoving the telegram in her pocket. Things were looking up after all. She hurried now, walking into the kitchen with a smile on her face that surprised Moss, after the way he had hurt her the night before. Their eyes held a moment.
“Good morning, everyone,” she said politely.
“Morning,” came several replies.
“And what do we do next?”
“Make another try with the neighboring ranchers,” Lonnie Drake told her. “They can’t all be like Simpson.”
Etta looked at each man as she spoke. “I’m sure they aren’t,” she replied. “And I think that’s a good idea. I’d like to be on better terms with them anyway. Maybe saving Moss’s arm is a sign of good things to come. Don’t you think?”
She smiled prettily, and they all felt a pleasant stirring deep inside themselves.
“Maybe so,” Pappy said, eyeing her closely. Why was she so cheerful?
Etta walked over to the stove where Mrs. Webster was cooking pancakes.
“I’d like to help,” she told the woman. “I’ll add a little more wood.” She lifted the iron plate and threw the telegram into the flames, watching to make sure it burned completely.
Chapter Forty
Amanda awoke with a terrific pain in her head. At first all she saw was the blurry red of campfire flames, and a hazy figure sitting across from her chewing on something. She groaned and closed her eyes again. She went to rub her head, but realized her hands were bound behind her. Her heart began to beat wildly as the ugly memory came back to her. At first all she could think of was her rape five years earlier, and the cruel treatment of the outlaws who had kidnaped her. She let out a mournful, kittenlike cry that brought Duncan to her side.
“You finally awake?” he grunted, jerking her to a sitting position. “I’m tired of carryin’ around your dead weight.”
She scooted away from him and pulled at the rawhide straps that bound her wrists, a hellish terror filling her, combined with the awful remembrance that Moss might be dead or armless.
“Why are you doing this?” she choked out, her mouth dry and gravely. Duncan grinned and dragged her back closer to the fire roughly, pinching her upper arm and making her cry out as he did so.
“Stay by the fire. I’m takin’ you to a fancy whorehouse, lady, and I don’t intend to have you get sick from the cold desert nights before I get you there!” He reached over and pulled a blanket from his bedroll, moving behind her and wrapping it around her shoulders, giving her a hug as he did so. Amanda shuddered and choked in another sob.
“Please don’t touch me!” she whimpered.
“We’re about the same age, you and me,” he told her. “You ever had a man younger than that cripple you married?” He kissed her neck.
“Please stop!” she said in a near scream, feeling the mental horror she had once experienced creeping into her again. “You don’t understand! You don’t—” She choked in another sob. “Why? Why are you doing this?”
“I’ll tell you why, lady!” he hissed into her ear, giving her a jolting hug at the same time and pushing the breath out of her. “That husband of yours was takin’ my place in Etta Landers’s bed! I’m gonna get him away from her by makin’ him come down here to rescue his little wife, and I’m gonna get back at him by havin’ my share of you!”
She shook her head and choked in wrenching sobs, trying to sort it all out. It must be a misunderstanding. Moss would never…was Moss even alive?
“You’re wrong!” she tried to reason. “Wrong about Moss and Etta!” She tried to remain calm, to think, but all she could envision was her abduction five years earlier. “Holy Mary, Mother of God, help me in my hour of need!” she screamed out, trying desperately to wrench free from Duncan’s now searching hands and hot breath. “Lord Jesus, don’t let it happen again! Help me!”
Duncan stiffened and pulled away.
“What the hell are you doin’?” He grasped her face firmly in one hand and squeezed. She tightly shut her eyes, her heart pounding so hard it ached.
“Praying.” The word came out jerked and strange, through lips he pinched together until she cried out in pain. Duncan hesitated, just staring at her. Then he pushed her hard, making her fall backward to the ground.
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