Wildest Dreams

PART TWO

We hold that happenings which may even compel the heart to break, cannot break the human spirit....

—May Kendall

The New Joy of Words

CHAPTER 11

August 1872

Lettie ran out of the house after the hired hand told her who had come visiting, driven to the ranch in a buggy by Will Doolan. "Mama!" She reached up for the woman before Will could even bring the buggy to a halt, then ran alongside it until it stopped and Katie MacBride could climb down. "Oh, Mama, I don't believe it!"

The two women embraced, laughed, cried. Lettie's sister, Louise, also climbed out of the buggy, followed by a slender man of perhaps thirty, wearing eyeglasses and a neat suit. Louise joined in the hugging while Lettie's several children gathered around to stare at the visitor.

"It must be our grandma," eight-year-old Katie told her sister, Pearl, who was five. Two of their brothers also watched curiously, seven-year-old Tyler holding the littlest brother, Paul, only two, while four-year-old Robert ran off after one of several dogs that roamed the Fontaine ranch. For several minutes the MacBride women clung to each other. As they finally pulled apart, they were all wiping at tears. It had been nine years since they had last seen each other on the Oregon Trail.

"Well, this is quite a reunion," Will said with a grin. "Too bad Luke's not here."

Henny climbed down from the two-seater buggy Will had rented in town to bring Lettie's mother and sister to the ranch. She had come along just to see the joy on Lettie's face. A round of introductions followed, then laughter when Lettie realized her mother had of course already met Will and Henny.

"We never would have survived those first two or three years without Will and Henny," Lettie told her mother. "Out here, dependable friends are worth more than all the gold most people come to Montana to find." She hugged her mother again. "Oh, Mama, why didn't you tell me you were coming? After all the letters... you should have written. Luke would so much have wanted to be here. We would have told you to come earlier in the spring, or later in the fall. In the summer Luke is gone on the cattle drive to Cheyenne."

"I know, dear, but..." Her smile faded. "I had a special reason for coming now."

Lettie studied the woman, her hair so much grayer, her skin more wrinkled, but it was the same beautiful face, her lovely complexion as pretty as ever against the soft pink dress she wore. She saw the deep sorrow in the woman's dark eyes then, and she realized what her father's absence must mean. "It's Father, isn't it?"

Katie nodded, unable to speak.

"Daddy died about six weeks ago, Lettie," Louise told her quietly. "Mother thought, after all these years... well, we'd been meaning to visit anyway. She thought it might be easier just to come here in person and be together, rather than write you the news in a letter."

Lettie felt a terrible sorrow. It had been nine years since she had felt her father's embrace, and now she would never do so again. What hurt the most was that she could hardly remember what he'd looked like except for the red hair and the green eyes so like her own. A whirlwind of joy and sorrow, hellos and good-byes, that's all life was. "Oh, Mama," She fell into her mother's arms and the two wept again.

"James wanted so much to come, too," Louise told Lettie, referring to their brother. "But he had to take over

Father's stores, and he's so busy. His wife, Sara, just had a baby girl. That makes three children for them, two nephews and one niece you've never seen, and of course my own two daughters. They're too small for such a rough trip so we left them with James and Sara." She turned to the man who had come with her. "Lettie, this is my husband, Kenneth Brown."

Keeping an arm around her mother, Lettie wiped tears from her eyes and studied her brother-in-law. A banker, Louise had explained in letters. It was difficult to think of her little sister as married, the mother of two daughters already. But Louise was twenty-three now, a grown-up woman, and their brother was twenty-eight. She was twenty-seven herself, and Luke thirty-seven! It seemed impossible. "Hello, Kenneth."

Louise's husband smiled and shook her hand. Lettie was surprised at how soft his hand was, how limp the handshake. Accustomed as she was to the burly, rough, rugged men on the ranch, Kenneth looked small and delicate to her and his suit and spectacles were a strange sight. It hit her then how much she had changed over the years, for there had been a time when most of the men she knew wore suits and drove fancy buggies. "I'm glad to meet you finally, Let-tie," Kenneth was saying. "We've all tried to imagine what it's like here, tried to picture the ranch, the house. Your letters have taken us on some wonderful adventures!"

Lettie laughed through tears. "Yes, life certainly is that here. One adventure after another." Her smile faded as her thoughts turned to Nathan. He had not been found or heard from in seven years. Maybe he really was dead. "Some more exciting than others." She nodded toward the sad little shack that sat farther up the hill. "That's where we spent our first terrible winter. We use the shack now to store feed."

"Dear Lord," Louise whispered.

Lettie gave her mother a squeeze. "Mama, I want you to meet your grandchildren. Ty, run and get Robert and bring him back here."

After setting little Paul on his feet, Tyler ran down the hill past a wandering milk cow to chase after his brother. "Robbie, get over here. Our grandma's here," he shouted.

Lettie picked up Paul. "This is Paul Lucas, Mama. He's two. He's the only baby I had who was delivered by a real doctor. Billings finally got a doctor three years ago, and it's a good thing." Her smile faded. "It was a very difficult birth. I almost died, and probably would have if Dr. Manning hadn't been there. He ended up having to operate. I can't have any more children."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Lettie," Katie said sympathetically. "You should have told me in your letters."

"I didn't want to worry you. Luke feels it's probably for the best. This last birth gave him quite a scare."

Katie studied her handsome grandson. "He has his father's dark hair and your green eyes," she told Lettie. "Oh, let me hold him."

Paul went to her readily, as though he'd always known his grandmother. He rested his head on her shoulder while Lettie introduced the rest of the children.

"This is our oldest, Katherine Lynn," Lettie told her mother. "She's named after you, of course. She's eight years old already."

"And tall for eight years old!" the elder Katie said with a smile.

"She takes after her father in build, has his dark hair, too, but her eyes aren't green or blue."

"I have hazel eyes," the girl spoke up, holding her chin proudly. She gave her grandmother a smile. "I'm glad you came, Grandma. Mother has told me all about you, and what it was like back in St. Joseph. Will you tell me all about Denver?"

"Oh, it's a big city and growing bigger every day. There are even some buildings four and five stories high, hotels, theaters. They've even built a railroad from Denver to Cheyenne. That's how we got here. We took the train first, then a stagecoach from Cheyenne to Billings. It was quite an exciting trip, and it's all such beautiful country."

"Hi, Grandma!" A very pretty, fragile-looking little girl with braided red hair and green eyes interrupted the conver-

sation then, offering her grandmother a kiss. "I'm Pearl Louise. I'm five years old!" she said proudly. She turned to Lettie's sister and kissed her, too. "I'm named after you, Aunt Louise."

"Pearl is a bold little thing, and you should hear her sing!" Lettie told them, touching her daughter's hair. "Almost every night after supper she sings and dances and does anything she can to entertain us. I'd like to try getting a piano someday, find a way to give her lessons. I think she's very musically inclined."

"A piano! Can you get a piano clear out here?" her mother asked.

"Where there is a will, there is a way, Luke always says. He says if I want a piano, he'll get me one." Her heart ached at the words. Ever since Nathan was taken away, Luke had worked like a demon to build the ranch and give her anything she needed. She knew he had never stopped blaming himself for losing Nathan.

Tyler came running back to them then, dragging Robert with him.

"Oh, look at you two!" Lettie exclaimed. "All dirty and sweaty. What a way for your grandmother to see you for the first time!"

"Robbie kept running away from me," Tyler answered. "I got hot chasing him." He wiped at his sweaty face with his shirtsleeve.

"Oh, I don't mind how dirty they are, Lettie. I'm just so happy to see my grandchildren finally."

Lettie smiled and took Paul from her. "This is Tyler," she said, indicating the handsome boy who was already becoming a replica of his father in size and coloring. "He's seven, but anyone who doesn't know him thinks he's at least ten. He's going to be a big man some day, like Luke. And look at those blue, blue eyes. Just like his father's."

Tyler grinned. "Pa's going to take me with him on the cattle drives as soon as I get big enough," he told his grandmother. "Someday I'm going to help run this whole ranch."

Katie smiled indulgently. "I'm sure you'll do a good job, Tyler."

"His middle name is James, after his uncle James," Let-tie reminded her. She set down little Paul and picked up the one remaining child, a boy with his mother's dark auburn hair, but his father's blue eyes. "This is Robert Henry. He's four already."

They were surrounded then by barking dogs, and Tyler scolded one of them for jumping up on Louise. "The big yellow one is called Pancake," he told his grandmother. He picked up the small black-and-white mongrel that had jumped on Louise. "This is Pepper. The beagle over there is Jiggles."

"This is Smoke," young Katie told her grandmother, petting a huge, shaggy black dog. "That over there is Wolf. His daddy is Bear, Uncle Will's dog."

"Uncle Will?" the elder Katie asked. She eyed the huge, wolflike dog that young Katie had pointed out. It hung back from the others, looking less receptive of strangers.

"All the children call Will and Henny aunt and uncle," Lettie explained.

"Well, they're like family to us," Will put in with a hearty laugh. He growled playfully and chased after Pearl and Robert, who screamed and ran from him.

As the children ran off to play, Henny joined Lettie and her family, putting an arm around her friend.

"Doesn't your daughter have beautiful children?" she asked Lettie's mother. "I helped deliver every single one of them, but thank goodness we had the doctor here for the last one. I can't have children of my own, so being a part of this family has been the next best thing. I was so happy when Lettie and Luke first came here. I had a woman I could share things with, visit with, someone who didn't wear red dresses and paint up her face, if you know what I mean. That's about the only kind of woman you ever saw around here before Lettie came. Now more families have come in. Lettie is thinking of forming a women's circle, some way we can all meet together at certain times."

"Except in winter," Lettie reminded her. "Most winters there are a couple of months when we can't get into town at all."

"Yes, I've read about that in your letters," Katie said, her gaze still on the children. "You have a handsome family, Lettie. Of course, with a father like Luke and a mother like you, how could you have anything but bright, handsome children?"

Lettie smiled. "Luke is such a good father, Mama. He's so proud of them. He wanted a big family. I'm glad I have as many children as I do, but I would have dearly loved two or three more." Her smile faded. She and her mother looked at each other, both of them remembering another child.

Katie grasped her daughter's hands. "You never hear anything?"

"No. Luke believes Nathan is dead, but I just can't get over the feeling he's alive, Mama." She turned to look out over the valley and to the mountains beyond. "He's out there somewhere. I just know it. He'd be eleven years old now. There isn't a day goes by that I don't think about him, pray for him. Time is supposed to heal all wounds, but this one will never heal."

Katie led her away from the others so that they could talk alone. "Is everything all right with Luke now, Lettie?"

Lettie's eyes misted. She nodded toward the playing, jabbering children. "See for yourself. A woman doesn't have that many babies without everything being all right with her husband."

Katie smiled softly, thinking how pretty her daughter still was, even with her hair piled into a plain roll on top of her head. She wore a light green calico dress. "You hinted in your letters that first year after Nathan was taken away that things were pretty strained. After that you didn't say much about it any more."

Lettie breathed deeply to keep from breaking down. The pain of losing Nathan suddenly seemed as keen as it had just after it happened. "Things were strained for a long time, not because I blamed Luke for any of it, but because he blamed himself. He has never quite stopped suffering over it, Mama. He works so hard building this ranch, building our wealth so he can give me all the things he thinks I should have, building me a big house, giving me a life better than anything I had before. I know he thinks it can make up a little bit for losing Nathan, but nothing can take away the pain."

"Of course it can't. It's too bad Luke blames himself as he does. He's a good man, Lettie. I remember that about him. He loved you so much."

Lettie nodded. "I've never doubted that love. If anything, it's even stronger. For months after Nathan was taken, Luke didn't even sleep with me. He thought I wouldn't want him in my bed, and both of us were hurting so much on the inside that we had no desire for..." She blushed. "Things finally got better." She laughed nervously. "As you can see." She closed her eyes and took another deep breath. "Things are good now. We've both resigned ourselves to the fact that we'll probably never know what really happened to Nathan. We pray for him, pray that if he's dead, he didn't suffer; and if he's alive, God is watching over him, and that he's happy. We thank God we have each other and that we've been blessed with five more healthy children."

She waved her arm. "Look out there, Mama. As far as you can see, that's what Luke owns. I'm not sure about the legalities of all of it. Luke has learned that out here men set their own laws, their own boundaries. That's just the way it is. He needs the land, so he's laid claim to it, thousands of acres and thousands of head of cattle, most of the herd built up from cattle he brought here from Oregon. Every summer he drives cattle down to Cheyenne to be loaded onto the Union Pacific and shipped back East, mostly to slaughterhouses in Omaha and Chicago. He gets top dollar because his cattle are fattened up on some of the best grass in this country, right out there on his own land. He has ten men working for him year-round, hires more in the summer to help on the cattle drive so that some can stay here and watch the ranch. Those six cabins out there to the south belong to the families of some of the permanent men. It all seems so big to me already, but Luke says it will get much bigger— more land, more cattle and horses, a bigger house."

She sighed deeply. "With all this success, I feel sorry for Luke, because I know he still hurts inside, not just over

Nathan, but also over the situation with his own father. I told you in my letters the story behind why Luke came out here. He has written to his father several times, but the man never replies, nor does Luke's brother. I know it hurts him deeply, but he refuses to show it."

Katie took her daughter's hands. "And what about you? You went through so much hell those first couple of years."

"Life goes on, Mama. Actually it was Luke who thought about giving up, right after Nathan was taken. He said we could move to Denver so I could be with you, that he'd find a job there. I know he didn't really want that. He just made the offer for my sake, but I couldn't take his dream away, Mama; and I couldn't leave this place, not when I know in my bones Nathan is still alive. I've always thought that if he ever comes back, he'll come here looking for us. I want to be here when that day comes. At the same time, we've both grown to love this land. This is home now, Mama." She squeezed the woman's hands. "Except for the ever-present longing to find Nathan, we're fine. Our love is strong, and we have the other children. Life is still often very hard. It will be a long time yet before Montana is as civilized as most of the rest of the country; but we're getting there."

Katie smiled sadly. "I'm glad you're doing so well." She sighed deeply. "We saw the graves on the way in. Will reminded us about the outlaws buried there. I remember you telling us about it in one of your letters. I just couldn't imagine Luke shooting down seven men."

Lettie looked up the hill toward the graves, their mounds now sunken and weathered by time. "That was not an easy time for him, but out here men have to take the law into their own hands. In some ways Luke is a much harder man than the one you knew when we first parted on the trail. He's actually feared by some, respected by all. He has taken to this land and to ranching like a fish to water. Not all men can come here and settle. It takes a special breed." She looked back at her mother. "But when it comes to me, and to the children, he's always good and gentle," she added.

She put an arm around her mother then. "No more talk of this. We're happy and everyone is healthy, and it's been nine years since I've seen my mother. I can't believe you're really here. You'll stay till Luke gets back, won't you? Surely you didn't come all this way just to stay a couple of days. We have a brand-new bunkhouse that the men haven't moved into yet. It would be a very nice place for the three of you to stay. With five children and three bedrooms, there isn't room in the house, but you'd be quite comfortable in the bunkhouse; and of course, during the day you'll spend every minute with me, every meal. I'll introduce you to the wives of some of the help. We can have a big picnic when Luke gets back! That would be fun. He should be back within a week or two. You can stay that long, can't you?"

"We were figuring on a nice, long visit, unless we wear out our welcome!" The woman laughed lightly. "Louise's husband owns two banks. He's his own boss, so he can do what he wants. Their little girls will be fine with James and Sara. We had already agreed that we would stay as long as necessary. After all, I'm getting on in years myself. This might be the last time we see each other, Lettie."

"Oh, Mama, don't say that."

"Well, it's just a fact of life; but we won't think about things like that. Let's enjoy the visit. I want to see your house, Lettie."

They returned to Louise and Henny, and all four women strolled into the house, chattering and laughing.

"There's nothin' that can gaggle more than a bunch of women," Will commented to Kenneth.

"I fully agree!" Kenneth answered, rather intimidated by the much bigger, buckskin-clad Will Doolan. Will was friendly enough, and as soon as he'd got word that Lettie Fontaine's mother was in town and looking for someone to bring her to the ranch, the man had readily obliged, renting a comfortable carriage for them, introducing them to his wife.

As Kenneth looked around the sprawling ranch, it was obvious what a different life people led out here. "She must be a very strong woman," he murmured.

"What?"

"Lettie. She must be very strong, for all the things she's been through."

Will nodded. "That she is, Mr. Brown. She's a good match for Luke."

One of the hired help rode past them then, dressed in dirty denim pants, his shirt stained with sweat. His horse kicked up a cloud of dust, and Kenneth looked down to brush at his suit.

"You'd better be wearin' some sturdier clothes than that if you intend to stay here awhile," Will told him with a laugh.

Kenneth took out a handkerchief and wiped dirt and sweat from his eyes. "Yes, I can see that." How did these people put up with being so far from town and civilization, with no schools, no bricked streets, no law? "I am looking forward to meeting Luke," he told Will. "He sounds like someone a person never forgets once they've met him."

Will laughed. "Oh, he leaves an impression, all right. You mark my words, Mr. Brown. Luke Fontaine is a name a lot of people will know someday, even down in Denver."



"You do good this time, boss?"

Luke looked over at Runner, a half-breed Crow Indian who worked at the ranch and had gone on the cattle drive to Cheyenne. "Good enough to pay you enough to buy some good whiskey," he answered, "instead of that rot-gut junk you bought from those whiskey runners last spring. I don't want you dealing with them any more, Runner. Next time I see them on my land, I'll bury all of them."

Runner grinned, remembering how Luke had chased off the whiskey traders he'd found camped on Fontaine land a few months ago. He hated them because they sold whiskey to the Sioux, and he hated the Sioux for stealing his son from him. Runner didn't mind that. All Crow Indians hated the Sioux also. They had been warring with each other for generations, but that was over now. The Crow were at peace, most living on reservations. They no longer roamed wild, competing with the Sioux for land and game. The Sioux were one of the last of the American Indian tribes to continue resisting white settlement. Red Cloud and a new warrior called Crazy Horse were causing a lot of problems, had even chased out the army and burned forts. They were aided by another warrior whose name no one dared mention in front of Luke Fontaine. He was called Half Nose.

"I don't like you drinking at all, Runner," Luke warned. "But as long as you don't cause trouble and as long as you don't drink when you're supposed to be working, I'll put up with it."

Runner not do you wrong, boss. Double L a good place to live. Better than reservation."

"What's the matter, Runner? Don't you like farmin' and livin' that quiet life on the reservation?" Ben Garvey, a bearded, grizzly old man who Luke suspected was as strong and hardy as a twenty-five-year-old, looked over at the half-breed from where he rode on the other side of Luke.

"Reservation life no good," Runner answered. "Nothing to do. Just sit and drink and die. No good. I like working for Luke Fontaine."

Luke laughed as he removed his wide-brimmed hat and wiped at sweat on his brow. "You're just soft-soaping me, Runner, so I'll let you have your whiskey."

"Soft soap? What is this, soft soap?"

Luke put his hat back on. "Never mind. You're a good worker, Runner. That's all that matters. We had a good drive, didn't we, boys? For once we didn't have trouble with renegade Sioux stealing some of our beef, and we only had one stampede. If it wasn't for that damn thunderstorm, even that wouldn't have happened. I have a feeling that from now on our biggest problem will be rustlers and squatters. According to men I talked to in Cheyenne, rustling is getting to be a big problem down in Colorado and Wyoming. It won't be long before they come our way."

"We can handle them," Ben answered, patting the six-gun on his hip.

"Maybe so, but I'm going to hire even more men next year for the drive. Shelby Preston wants me to bring an extra five hundred head next summer, twenty-five hundred total."

"Ah, those city people back East, they're getting a taste for good beef, huh?"

The question came from Sven Hansen, a Swede Luke had hired after the man had given up in the gold fields around Helena, the new name for Last Chance Gulch. It was one of the few gold towns that had survived and was still thriving. Most of the men who worked for Luke were men who had given up their dream of getting rich by finding gold. Some miners had found the precious metal but could not afford to mine it properly. Others had died at the hands of angry Sioux Indians who wanted the white men off their land.

Ben Garvey was one of those ex-miners. He was Luke's top hand now, and a close second was a quiet but rough-looking dark-haired man simply called Tex, who rode out ahead of the rest of them now, taking turns with Runner in scouting for any trouble that might lie waiting for them. Tex appeared to have some Mexican blood, but he never talked about his heritage, family, or where he had come from. He had arrived at the ranch one day looking for work. At first Luke had not trusted him. He suspected the man was wanted for some crime back East. But Tex had proved to be extremely talented in breaking horses, as well as in using a rifle. He was hard but dependable, a man who did not hesitate to pull a trigger when necessary. Out here, especially on cattle drives, that was the kind of man Luke needed.

He had also brought young Billy Sacks on the drive, wanting him to learn the ropes. Billy, twenty-three, had come to Montana with his then-seventeen-year-old wife, Anne, just last year. Both were orphans from the Civil War and had come west to forget the horrors of that war and start a new life. Billy thought that by working for Luke, he could learn the things he needed to know about settling in this country, and Luke had promised him that if he did a good job, he'd let him have a prime piece of property on his own land eventually, so that Anne could continue to live near Lettie. He well understood the strain of loneliness for a woman in this country. Maybe Anne wouldn't have to suffer that pain as intensely as Lettie had those first couple of years.

Billy was the only married man he had brought on the drive. He had left the rest of the married ones at the ranch, hired another six extras, all single men, for the cattle drive. Single men had less mental distractions to keep them from concentrating on the cattle, and they were more willing to put their lives on the line in times of danger. Most of the extras had stayed on at Cheyenne once the cattle were sold and were someone else's responsibility; but two, Cade Willis and Bob Dolan, were returning with him to the Double L.

They were all good wranglers, dependable men he could trust. He looked down at his saddlebags, stuffed with money paid by Shelby Preston, a buyer from Omaha. He'd got four dollars a head for his two thousand steer; eight thousand dollars. He'd heard in Cheyenne the army sometimes paid up to six dollars a head. With new forts being built in Montana and northern Wyoming because of a new campaign against the Sioux, he figured he'd see about getting a government contract to sell beef to the army, which would in turn help ensure that he could continue to use government land for grazing.

It wouldn't be long now before he could build Lettie the biggest, finest home in Montana. He smiled at the thought of it, but those thoughts were interrupted when Tex came riding back to them at a gallop.

"Some men camped on the other side of the hill," he told Luke. "They've got a good-size campfire going, and it looks like they're roasting something over it."

Luke and the rest of the men followed him to the crest of the hill, where they halted their horses and studied the camp below. "Who do you think that is, Runner?" Luke asked.

Runner watched them for a few seconds. "Got a wagon down there. Looks like it's piled with robes. Buffalo hunters, I think. There be more and more of them lately. They skin the buffalo and leave all the meat. I no like these buffalo hunters."

Luke squinted against a setting sun. In his years of riding the perimeter of his property, rooting out squatters, outlaws, and Indians, he had become as adept at scouting as Tex and Runner. He sniffed the air. "Smell that?" he asked.

"Smells damn good," Tex spoke up, "like roastin' meat."

"Like beef," Luke answered.

"A man gets tired of buffalo meat," Tex kidded.

"I suppose he does," Luke answered, "but he doesn't come onto Fontaine land and take whatever beef he wants for free. Let's go."

All eight men rode down the hill toward the strangers camped around the fire. As they came closer, Luke could see they were a rough-looking bunch, although after weeks on the trail and some hard riding to get back home, he and his men didn't look much better. The intruders rose, and Luke counted six men. The wind carried their smell, which overpowered even that of the roasting hindquarter of beef that hung over their fire. It was an offensive smell, the scent of old blood, buffalo robes not yet fully dried and cured. A few of the hunters still had bloodstains on their clothing and hands, which they had not bothered to clean.

"Enjoying your meal, boys?" Luke asked.

The apparent leader of the bunch stepped away from the others, putting on a smile. "You fellas want to join us? They's plenty of meat for all."

Luke looked past him at a dead steer lying in the distance, its body covered with thousands of flies. The carcass was hacked up but not even gutted. They had apparently killed the valuable animal just for the meat they needed at the moment. "Do you know who that steer belongs to?"

The man he was facing eyed all eight of them carefully, stepped back a little. The others with him all straightened, one man resting his hand on a six-gun at his side. "I don't reckon it matters," the leader answered. "It's just one little ol' cow, wanderin' around where it don't belong."

"That 'cow,' as you put it, belongs to me, mister. Luke Fontaine! You're on Fontaine land, my land, and you've killed one of my best steers. I suggest you get the hell off my land, right now!"

"Or what?" One of the others spoke up then, leaning on a rifle with the longest and biggest barrel Luke had ever seen. "You know what this is, mister?" The man, so tall and skinny he hardly looked strong enough to hold the big gun, slowly picked up the rifle. "This here's a buffalo gun, made special for huntin' the big beasts. It shoots farther and makes a bigger hole than any other rifle there is. I hate to tell you what it can do to a man. It would—"

Before he could even finish the sentence, Luke's six-gun was drawn and fired. The man screamed out when the bullet ripped through his right wrist, and the buffalo gun fell to the ground.

"You son of a bitch!" one of the others spoke up. Luke waved the six-gun. "All of you, get the hell off my property!"

"You gonna let him do this, Cully?" one of the others asked their leader.

"You bastard." The one called Cully sneered. "We didn't see no fences! If your goddamn beef stray beyond where they're supposed to be, that ain't our problem! Keep your damn beef on your own land!"

Luke rode closer, suddenly kicking out at Cully and landing a foot in the man's chest, knocking him onto his rump. "Mister, as far as you can see from here is Fontaine land! I just haven't fenced it all yet. And even if it wasn't, Fontaine beef is Fontaine beef, whether it's on my land or off it, and theft is theft! Now you take your stinking bodies and your stinking buffalo robes and get the hell out of here, and don't let me catch you anyplace around here again!"

Out of the corner of his eye Luke saw the man with the six-gun start to draw. He whirled and shot, opening a hole in the man's chest. Only a fraction of a second after his own gunshot, he heard another gun fired. Another buffalo hunter went down, and he turned to see Tex's gun smoking.

Cully had got to his feet by then. He stepped away, glaring at Luke. "You shot my brother, you bastard!"

Luke aimed his six-gun at the man, and the rest of Luke's men had rifles and handguns ready. "A man pulls a gun on another man, he takes the chance of getting shot,"

Luke growled. "It's just a fact of life out here. Now you take those two dead bodies and your gear and get going! Now! And leave the buffalo guns behind! I don't intend for you to turn around and use them on us after you get a couple of hundred yards away!"

"We need those guns for our livelihood!"

Luke nodded to Tex and the others. "Take their rifles."

His men surrounded the buffalo hunters and picked up all the buffalo guns they could find. The skinny man with the wounded wrist and Cully both let off a string of curses then as Luke's men forced them to pick up their things and get on their horses. Two of them picked up the dead bodies and threw them onto the wagon full of robes.

Cully rode up to Luke then, bitter hatred in his eyes. "You'll regret this, Fontaine! You can't be everyplace at once, and I expect you're gone a lot, runnin' such a big ranch, ain't you? You got a wife, Fontaine? Kids? You'd best keep a good eye on them."

Luke charged off his horse and landed into him, both men plunging to the ground and rolling in the gravel and sage. Luke's men backed away and watched guardedly, keeping an eye on the rest of the buffalo hunters. Cully rolled on top of Luke and pulled a huge knife. He was a big man, shorter than Luke, but strong and burly. Luke grasped his wrist, straining to keep the knife away from him. Tex and the others kept their six-guns ready, afraid to fire for fear of hitting Luke as the two men tumbled and rolled.

Finally Luke was the one on top, still grasping Cully's wrist. Cully reached up and grasped at Luke's face, trying to gouge his eyes, while Luke slammed the man's knife hand against a rock, over and over until finally Cully dropped the knife. He grabbed Cully's other wrist then, pulled it away from his face and managed to jerk the big, burly man to his feet. Cully kicked at his legs, but Luke landed a big fist into the man's belly, making him grunt and knocking the air out of him. Several more hard blows to his gut, ribs, and face sent the man sprawling, his face bloody, no fight left in him.

Luke knelt down then and pulled him to his knees, his own eyes bloodshot and bruised from Cully's attempt at blinding him. He jerked the man close, teeth gritted, his face smeared with sweat and dirt. "Nobody threatens my wife and my kids, you stinking bastard! You be glad you're leaving here still breathing! If I ever see your face anyplace near here again, I'll shoot you on sight, whether you're armed or not!" He shoved the man back to the ground, where Cully lay groaning. Luke looked at the other hunters. "Get him the hell out of here, before I decide to drag all of you to the nearest tree and hang you!"

The rest of them were sullen but appeared humbled. "We're goin', mister," one of them spoke up. The tall, skinny man dismounted and asked one of the others to help him pick up Cully. They helped the man walk to the wagon and climb into it, where he moaned as he fell into the robes beside his dead brother. The other two mounted up, and one of them picked up the reins to Cully's horse. Another climbed into the wagon. Then they all rode off.

"Keep an eye on them till they're completely out of sight," Luke told his men. If they rode hard they could get home by nightfall, and he missed Lettie and the kids. He didn't want to be gone one more day, and he knew Billy was anxious to get home to Anne.

"You okay, boss?" Runner asked.

Luke rubbed at his eyes with his shirtsleeve. "I'm all right." He picked up Cully's knife, and saw that it was very well made. "Looks like Lettie's got a new butcher knife," he commented.

The others laughed, beginning to feel the relief of a successful confrontation.

"Pick up those buffalo guns. They're damn good weapons. You men divide them up among yourselves." Luke grunted when he bent down then to pick up his hat. He mounted his horse, a big roan gelding he'd chosen to replace Paint, who was getting too old to hold up on a cattle drive. "Billy, get yourself a clean blanket and wrap it around that quarter of beef. You take it home to Anne and you can have a royal meal. Have her cut some off for the rest of the men." He rubbed at his right calf. The old wound still hurt him whenever he did anything strenuous. "It's too bad they let the rest of the carcass go like that. If it had been gutted and wasn't covered with flies, I'd take it back and get some use out of the meat. What a damn waste!"

"Now you know how the Indians feel when they see the same thing happen to the buffalo," Runner commented.

Luke nodded, the pain of Nathan's capture still hitting him hard at times. He wanted to hate the Sioux, and most of the time he did. But there was a part of him that could understand how they felt. There ought to be a way the Indians and whites could share the land, but drastically different cultures prevented that. Though he didn't believe Nathan was alive, if he was, he might be out there living with those Indians who still refused to go to a reservation. He might be dependent on the buffalo for survival.

He turned his horse, telling himself it was a foolish thought. After all these years, none of the Crow or Shoshone scouts he had checked with from time to time had heard anything about a white captive with the Sioux, or a "white Indian," who rode with them. He had never quite given up his search, but he knew it was hopeless. It was Lettie who wouldn't give up believing Nathan was still alive, and he didn't have the heart to try to discourage the thought. It helped her to believe it.

Billy wrapped the cooked meat and tied it onto his horse. "Let's get the hell home, boys," Luke told them. He kicked his horse into a gentle lope, heading north across Double L country.

This far out he considered the land his simply because his cattle and horses sometimes grazed here. It really belonged to the government, but who the hell cared? They weren't doing anything with it, and he intended to fence it off eventually, adding to his empire. A lot of ranchers did that now—used the land beyond their own borders for grazing. It was necessary in order to feed herds that got bigger every year. In a couple of weeks cattle agents would be bringing him more sturdy stock from Oregon and California. He needed a good half-million acres for enough grassland to feed his growing herds, which numbered close to eight thousand now. Soon there would be more, meaning he would need even more land. He would get it, one way or another; but the powers that be in Washington were reluctant to give up too much land, wanting to save it for the railroad, wary that there might be valuable minerals under a lot of it. What he and the other ranchers in Montana needed was to gather together and force their hand to get what they needed. He had formed the Cattlemen's Association, an organization still young. They would be holding their second meeting in only three weeks. Similar groups were forming in Colorado, Utah, Wyoming. It was time for Montana ranchers to band together and protect their land and their rights, encourage the government to send more soldiers out here to alleviate the continued danger from renegade Indians, allow the ranchers to claim more land.

He removed his hat and ran an arm over his face and hair to wipe away more dirt and sweat. He hated to go home to Lettie this way. But after all these weeks away, she wouldn't much care how he looked when he got there. She in turn would look damn good to him... and feel damn good in bed tonight.