Wildest Dreams

chapter 14

Lettie felt all eyes on her as she walked into town hall, which was really nothing more than a good-size barnlike structure of logs the citizens of Billings had constructed for socials. She had worn her best fall dress, a burgundy-colored velvet that accented a waistline she was proud of after bearing six children. The bodice was trimmed in white lace along the several buttons that made their way to a high neckline, also lace trimmed, as were the cuffs of the dress's long sleeves. Her velvet feathered hat matched the dress, and her several petticoats rustled around new brown leather high-top shoes as she walked forward to take her place at the Cattlemen's Association meeting. Every man there rose in respect for her gender, but she did not miss the irritation and downright animosity in the eyes of some.

She walked in on Will Doolan's arm, and he showed her to one of the wooden chairs that were arranged in a circle so everyone could see each other. "Gentlemen, I know you might be upset by a woman's presence," Will said, "but this one has a good reason for bein' here. She's—"

"I can speak for myself, thank you, Will," Lettie interrupted. She still had not sat down. She turned to scan all the faces, a few she knew, many she did not. "I am Lettie Fontaine, Luke Fontaine's wife." Already she could see a few of them relaxing. "Luke was badly wounded a little over two weeks ago by buffalo hunters who ambushed us while we were out riding. Between the two of us, we shot them down, but not before Luke took a slug from a buffalo gun in his right thigh that broke the bone. He'll be laid up most of the winter."

Those who did not already know what had happened to Luke looked surprised and concerned. "We're sorry to hear that, ma'am," one of the men told her.

Lettie recognized Calvin Briggs, who had a ranch northwest of hers and Luke's. He and his wife Leanna had visited the Double L once. "Thank you, Mr. Briggs."

"You shot one of the buffalo hunters?" one of the others asked.

Lettie could feel the growing respect among them. "I had no choice. I do hope, gentlemen, that the day will come when we have law and order in Montana, and men like that can no longer attack innocent people. In the meantime, I understand that we have to set our own laws, and that is part of the reason I am here. Luke knew you would talk about that and more at this meeting, and since he could not come, I told him I would take his place and represent the Double L so I can tell him everything that was discussed here today. I am sure none of you is excited about having a woman present, but half of the Double L is mine. I have just as much interest in what happens to our land and anything that is decided in these meetings as any of you."

Another rancher Lettie was slightly acquainted with took a cigar from his mouth and nodded to her. "Luke's a good man. You two were among the first to come out here and settle in Indian country. We know what you've been through over the years, Mrs. Fontaine. I see no reason why you shouldn't be here in Luke's place."

"I think we shall all have to be careful of our language, gentlemen," another said.

Lettie was struck by the man's British accent, an unusual sound in a place like Billings. She turned her attention to the man, who had risen when she entered the hall. He was tall, and quite handsome. She guessed his age at perhaps forty, as his dark hair showed a little gray at the temples. His dark brown eyes sparkled with kindness and, it seemed, admiration, as they quickly moved over her appreciatively.

"Nial Bentley," he told her, bowing slightly. "I am the Englishman who has started a ranch southwest of Billings. In fact, my land borders the Double L. I have been meaning to pay your husband a visit but have been too busy. Please give him my regrets over his misfortune."

The man seemed gracious and well-mannered, and he dressed immaculately, a wondrous sight in Montana. "Thank you, Mr. Bentley."

"We might as well all introduce ourselves," Will said then. "Most of us know each other, but this is the Englishman's first cattlemen's meeting, and I see a couple of other new faces. I'm Will Doolan—own a small ranch east of Billings—been good friends with Luke and Lettie Fontaine ever since they first settled here. I expect me and my wife Henny have been here longer than just about anybody, but we ain't had near the bad luck the Fontaines had when they first arrived. Ol' Luke, he shot down seven outlaws who tried to run him off his place the first spring after he got here. Mrs. Fontaine here, she shot one of them herself, but it was Luke who finished him off."

Lettie reddened slightly at the man's contribution of family history. She would rather not have brought up so many details, but with every word she could see the men's respect and acceptance growing.

He went on to relate how they had lost Nathan. "If I told you everything else they've been through to hang on to the Double L, we'd be here all day. I will add that the day Luke was shot down by the buffalo hunters, Mrs. Fontaine here had to walk almost five miles to get help, most of it in the dark. She—"

"Will, please." Lettie shook her head, her embarrassment growing deeper.

Will grinned. "All I'm sayin' is, you men should accept Mrs. Fontaine as a temporary member with no objections, at least till Luke's better and he can come himself. She came here out of love and respect for her husband, even though she's still healin' from a couple of badly bruised ribs herself."

"No objection on my part," the Englishman spoke up, looking at her with such admiration that Lettie felt downright uncomfortable.

"We agree Luke Fontaine's wife has every right to be here," another added.

One by one each man introduced himself, not just for Lettie, but for each other. "James Woodward. Got a ranch northwest of here. Wife's name is Ellen. We've got four kids, three girls and a boy. My brand is JW."

"Calvin Briggs. My place is northwest of the Double L. Wife's name is Leeanna. We've got one boy, eight years old. My brand is just the letter B."

"Nial Bentley," the Englishman repeated. "I am a widower, come to your beautiful country for an adventure and to make investments for my family. My brand is crossed swords, my family's crest." He gave everyone a gracious smile, and Lettie could tell that some of the men were ready to laugh. "I have a suggestion for all of you regarding the best beef cattle in the world," Bentley added. The remark wiped the smiles off the others' faces and brought a curiosity to their eyes. "But please, finish the introductions first," Bentley added.

The next man straightened, nervously fingering his soiled hat. "Carl Rose. My place is south of Billings. It's not as big as what I hear the Double L is, but I don't think anybody here has that much land, except maybe the Englishman." They all laughed lightly. "Anybody sees a stray steer with a rose on his rump, he's mine."

They all laughed again before Will spoke up. "You already know who I am. I ain't never picked a brand for my beef, but now that we're formin' this group and figurin' on registerin' our stock, I reckon' I'll have to be thinkin' about that." He looked past Lettie at the next man.

"Joseph Parker," the man spoke up. "Everybody calls me Park. My place is to the southeast. My wife died last year in childbirth, so I ain't got a family. My brand is JP."

"Henry Kline. North of Billings," the last man spoke up. "Wife's Lucy. We've got two grown sons who was both killed in the war. We came out here to forget, if that's possible, me and my wife Lucy. My ranch is called the Lazy K, and my brand is a K restin' on its back." Kline was older than the rest of them, a big, heavy man, with a full, graying beard that came nearly to his belly.

Lettie spoke up. "I'm sorry about your sons, Mr. Kline. And about your wife's death, Mr. Parker. I'm sure everyone here has suffered losses of one kind or another. Friendship and support of one another is so important."

Kline and Parker thanked her for her concern.

"Well, let's get started," James Woodward said. "We'll pick a president, see if anyone knows of other ranchers who aren't here but should be. We have a lot of things to discuss, how we'll go about registering our brands, what to do about rustlers. And, of course, Mr. Bentley apparently has something to tell us about beef, although I can't imagine what an Englishman would know about such things. As far as I'm concerned, Montana already grows the best and hardiest beef in this country."

They all laughed and nodded. "Before long we'll be outselling Texas, and we've got the Union Pacific to ship it without having to herd our cattle so far like the Texans have to do," Carl Rose spoke up.

"Won't be long before the Northern Pacific starts building into Montana, I hear," Will said.

Lettie watched all of them, a variety of sizes and ages, some cleaner and better dressed than others, all rugged men willing to sit down and try to organize themselves and ultimately organize Montana. She was glad to be a part of the meeting, wished Luke could be here. If anyone should be president, it should be Luke, as far as she was concerned. After all, this organization had been his idea to start with. They were starting small, but as more men came into Montana to settle, the Cattlemen's Association was bound to grow in size and importance. She reached into her handbag and took out some paper she had brought with her, and a pen, setting a bottle of ink on the floor beside her. She did not want to forget anything important and had promised Luke she would take notes.

"I've got something here that's got to be discussed right off," Briggs said. "It's something that's going to cause a lot of trouble between ranchers and farmers if its use isn't stopped." The man held up a piece of wire. "It's barbed, and believe me, it can maim and kill. Some damn squatters north of my place put this stuff up to keep my cattle out of their cornfields, and several of my beef got tore up by it, and so did one of my men when he rode his horse right into it before he even saw it was there." The man passed the wire around. "I hear more and more farmers are startin' to use this stuff to keep cattle and other animals out of their fields. I say we all agree that wherever we find this stuff, we cut it down."

Lettie took the wire when Joseph Parker passed it on to her. She gasped when she accidentally poked her finger with one of the barbs.

"Are you all right, Mrs. Fontaine?" the Englishman spoke up.

Lettie stared at the hideous wire. "Yes." She rubbed at her finger, which had already begun to bleed. "I just need a handkerchief or something."

Almost instantly several men offered her their hankies. She took one from Parker and held it against her finger, passing the wire to Will. "Luke would be totally against this," she told the rest of them.

"As far as I'm concerned, the stuff ought to be outlawed," Carl Rose grumbled.

"Wherever we find it, it gets cut down," Henry Kline suggested. "If some farmer wants to make trouble over it, let him deal with all of us."

Everyone nodded in agreement, and Lettie watched the wire as it was passed around, thinking something like that could cause a good deal of trouble. She would take that piece of wire home and show it to Luke. She had never even considered that farmers would put up something so dangerous, not just to domestic animals, but wild ones, too.

There was more discussion over the wire, after which talk turned to writing a letter to the Northern Pacific, requesting the route chosen by the railroad pass near Billings, an advantage to Montana ranchers who now had to herd their cattle south to Cheyenne, Wyoming. Cattle drives were expensive and dangerous, and there were always losses to Indians, wild animals, and the elements, as well as weight loss in the cattle. The fact that Billings had a sheriff now, Bill Tracy, was also discussed; but it was determined that the man could do little more than keep order in town. Any law outside of Billings would still be set and enforced by the ranchers.

"I hear there's a big-time mine owner from Denver here wantin' to talk to some of us about lookin' for minerals on our land," Will said. "His name's Jeremy Shane—stayin' at the new boardinghouse the widow Anderson opened up. He was fixin' to visit some of us. I told him about this meetin', told him it was closed to outsiders, but I said I'd go get him if any of you wants to talk to him."

"There's no gold this far east," Parker stated.

"Well, there's other minerals besides gold that can be worth somethin'," Will replied.

"I don't want any business with miners coming in and tearing up my land," Carl Rose objected.

Most of them grumbled, but Lettie thought it a wonderful idea. She made a note of it. She would go and see this Mr. Shane. She had been after Luke for years to consider options that would keep them afloat in case of a bad year. Finding valuable minerals on their property could be the answer.

"I have wired a buyer from Omaha," Nial Bentley spoke up. "He will come to Billings next spring. His name is Bradley Mills, works for Patterson's Meat Supply, one of the biggest butcher markets in the country. I checked on all these things before coming here to invest in land and cattle. I believe we should allow him into the meeting. We might all be able to contract with him for our beef. That way we have a definite buyer for years ahead instead of wondering from one year to the next. I have already had dealings with Mills for the cattle on another ranch I own in Wisconsin. He's an honest man."

Lettie kept writing. Yes. A solid contract would certainly make Luke rest easier. Shelby Preston's promise to buy cattle was only word of mouth. He could always change his mind and tell Luke he didn't want all twenty-five hundred head next summer after Luke had taken the time and spent the money to herd them to Cheyenne.

She made a note that Nial Bentley also owned a ranch in Wisconsin. Apparently the Englishman knew more about cattle and running a ranch than any of them had thought at first.

"With all her note taking, perhaps Mrs. Fontaine can write up a summary for us of everything we discuss here today," Bentley added.

Lettie glanced his way and saw him smiling at her. She was flattered that the man seemed to be quite attracted to her, but it also upset her. No man should look at a married woman the way Nial Bentley was looking at her. She turned her gaze to the others. "I'd be glad to, if that is what everyone wants."

Briggs nodded. "We'd appreciate it, Mrs. Fontaine. Next meeting, you can read back your notes. In the meantime, I want everybody to bring a piece of rawhide to the next meeting with your brand burned into it. We're corresponding with a printer from Cheyenne, trying to talk him into coming to Billings and opening a newspaper here. With his equipment, he could print up some registration sheets, showing everybody's brand. By this time next year I'd like to be organized enough that we have files on all these things, records of what we discuss. Cattlemen are getting organized in other territories and states. We want to keep up. We could eventually have a lot of power in setting laws for our benefit when we become a state ourselves someday."

"Well, I vote we don't go electin' no president until Luke can start comin' to the meetin's," Will said. "He's the biggest landowner around here and should have the most say anyway."

They all took a round of votes and agreed to wait for Luke.

"I appreciate that," Lettie told them. "Luke will, too." She looked at Nial Bentley then. "Now, I would like to hear what Mr. Bentley has to say about a new kind of cattle."

"Ain't no fancy new breed gonna survive Montana winters," Will claimed.

"These will," Bentley answered. "And if you sell your beef by the pound, they'll make you a fortune."

"I say we take a little break first and stretch our legs a bit, go outside and have a smoke so it doesn't bother Mrs. Fontaine," Carl Rose suggested. "Twenty minutes. That's enough time to walk across the street to the Lonesome Tree Saloon and have a swallow of whiskey."

They all readily agreed to the suggestion, up and out of their chairs in the next breath and heading out the door. Will went with them, and Lettie leaned down to put a cork in her ink bottle. When she straightened, she realized that Nial Bentley had stayed behind. "Aren't you anxious to puff on a cigar and gulp some whiskey like the rest of them?" she asked with a hint of sarcasm.

"Oh, I like my tobacco and good whiskey as well as any man," he answered. He got up and walked closer. "I just couldn't pass up the opportunity to tell you I think you're one of the most beautiful women I have ever met, Mrs. Fontaine, and surprisingly refined and gracious for these parts. I didn't know such a woman existed out here."

Lettie looked up at him, not sure how to take the remark. "Mr. Bentley, I appreciate the compliment, but I would also appreciate it if you would stop looking at me the way you have been all through this meeting. It is annoying and embarrassing. I am, after all, a married woman, and you are a widower. I will remind you that most of these men are good friends of Luke's. I don't care to have them wondering at the way you look at me. Being the only woman here is difficult enough. I hate to appear rude, but from now on, please keep your compliments and your stares to yourself."

The man bowed, grinning. "My humblest apologies. I didn't mean anything disrespectful, I assure you. It is just refreshing to find someone like you out here. I do hope your husband appreciates what he has."

Lettie drew in her breath in irritation. "Luke Fontaine is a good man, and one, I daresay, you would not want to tangle with. And whether or not he appreciates his wife is really none of your business, is it, Mr. Bentley?"

The man reddened a little. "No. It really isn't. Please forgive me, Mrs. Fontaine. I hope I haven't offended you to the point that I would not be welcome if I should come visiting the Double L. I would like to meet your husband, and I would like to tell him in person about the new breed of cattle I intend to bring to Montana. I truly do believe he will be interested."

"You're welcome to come to the Double L any time."

The man put on his hat, admiration still shining in his eyes. "Thank you. I believe I'll join the others now, so you won't be embarrassed that I lagged behind." He hesitated. "I was simply fascinated, Mrs. Fontaine, not just by your beauty, but by the things Mr. Doolan said about you. Not many women would endure and survive out here, suffering the things you have surely suffered. I deeply admire your strength and bravery. Did you really shoot one of those buffalo hunters yourself?"

Lettie folded her arms and looked up at him. "Yes. And years ago I shot one of the horse thieves that tried to claim our land when we first settled here. I'm beginning to think maybe I should shoot you, Mr. Bentley."

The man laughed with delight, holding up his hands. "All right, I'm leaving." He laughed again as he turned and walked out the door, and Lettie looked after him, not sure if she liked the man, or despised him. She decided she would let Luke be the judge. She was not going to tell him how she felt about the Englishman, because if he thought she disliked him, he might not even discuss the new breed of cattle Bentley was suggesting. It could be good for the Double L, and she didn't want anything to interfere with improving profits. A good businessman would put facts and figures before personal feelings, and as long as she was representing the Double L, she had to do the same.

Luke watched from where he sat on the front porch as the rider approached, accompanied by Tex. Per Luke's instructions, no stranger ever came up to the Fontaine home without being met at the gate and accompanied by one of his men. He adjusted the homemade wheelchair the men had constructed for him, moving it a little closer to the steps and being careful to avoid bumping his right leg on the porch railing. The leg stuck straight out, supported by a wooden brace and troughlike structure the men had built onto the chair to support the leg, which Luke still could not bend or put any weight on.

He breathed deeply of the fresh air, glad to be out of the bedroom, aching to get back on a horse and back to his duties as owner of the Double L, but he had resigned himself to the doctor's prediction. It would be weeks, maybe months, before that would happen. He hated this helplessness, hated having to send poor Lettie on errands that should be his own.

Little Pearl came out of the house wearing a shawl because of the crisp September air. She brought one of Luke's buckskin jackets with her. "Mommy said you should put this on."

Luke winked at her, proud of how beautiful the tiny girl was, her red hair a mass of curls, her green eyes sparkling. "I don't need it just yet." He took the jacket and laid it across his lap, keeping his eyes on the approaching rider, who sat on a fine, sleek black horse and was dressed in a gray suit and ruffled shirt. He sported a black felt hat, and Luke knew without asking that it was the fancy Englishman Will and Lettie had told him was at the cattlemen's meeting a week ago. Will had brought Lettie and the children home, carrying on about all that had been discussed at the meeting, showing Luke the despicable barbed wire. Lettie had more calmly informed him of everything that had happened, asking for his opinion, telling him about the new breed of cattle called Herefords that Nial Bentley had talked about.

She had not mentioned that Bentley had seemed infatuated with her. Will had told him that when they were alone. "The others call him the fancy man," Will had joked.

"He's sure that, but he seems to know cattle. Trouble is, he knows women, too. You should've seen how he looked at Lettie, like she was some kind of angel. All the men, they showed her nothin' but respect, Luke; and Lettie, she did a right fine job representin' the Double L. You would have been proud, but I'll bet that fancy Englishman wouldn't have looked at her like he did if you was there."

"You've got a visitor, boss." Tex said, grinning. Luke could tell the man was about to laugh at the way the Englishman was dressed. Luke controlled his own urge to chuckle, and he could already guess Nial Bentley was backed by old money, probably came from some English family of wealth. Maybe he was a lord or had some other damn fancy title. Whatever the case, he was certainly a handsome man. Luke guessed him to be a little older than himself.

"Go get Mommy," he told Pearl.

The girl ran inside, and Luke nodded to Bentley. "Afternoon."

"Good day, sir!" the man answered, dismounting. He tied his horse at a hitching post and climbed the steps, putting out his hand. "I already know from your man here that you are Luke Fontaine," Nial said with his strong British accent. "I am Nial Bentley, as you have probably already guessed. I thought it was time we met, Mr. Fontaine, since my land borders yours to the south. Your wife invited me to come and tell you about the beef I plan to raise there. She thought you might be interested in buying a few head yourself."

Luke reached up and shook the man's hand, squeezing just enough to let Bentley know he'd better not underestimate him just because he was in a wheelchair. "I'm willing to listen," Luke answered. "But like most of the other ranchers around here, I doubt anything but the shorthorns we've been breeding around here for years can survive."

"Ah! And where did the shorthorn first come from? England!" Nial removed his hat and laid it on a nearby table. "They were bred with the sturdy Texas longhorns, and you ended up with some of the finest beef in the world. I'll wager you bought your first cattle out of Oregon?"

Luke shifted in his chair, wincing with pain. "I did. The last few years I've mostly been breeding my own."

"Yes, well, you started out with good stock. The shorthorns managed to survive being herded clear across the country when Oregon was first settled. They've proved their worth. You had great foresight to buy up all that you could back when there was a surplus in Oregon." He winked. "Little did those people know just how valuable that beef was going to be some day. Am I right?"

Luke nodded, wanting to like the man. He was amiable enough, and he certainly knew his cattle, and American history. Too bad he had an eye for Lettie. Maybe Will had just exaggerated. "You're right. You seem to know an awful lot about the subject, for a foreigner."

Bentley laughed. "Well, I don't feel like a foreigner. My family has owned property and businesses in America for years. I myself studied at Harvard, and I own quite a large cattle ranch in Wisconsin. My father is the one who could see there would be a demand for beef after your Civil War ended. He invested in this new breed, raises them in England. He had several hundred shipped to America a few years ago. I've been raising them in Wisconsin. I brought a few hundred into Montana this summer, but I've kept them close to the main house, so you probably didn't notice them when you herded your cattle over my land on the way to Cheyenne this past spring. At any rate, these cattle are worth much more on the hoof than shorthorns because of their weight. I already have a contract with Patterson's Meat Supply in Omaha. Perhaps your wife told you a buyer from Patterson's is coming here next spring to talk to you and the other cattlemen?"

Luke watched him carefully. "She told me."

Lettie came out then, and Luke noticed her stiffen slightly at the sight of Nial Bentley, who quickly rose in respect, his eyes lighting up with delight. Luke felt an irritating jealousy at the way the man looked at her. No man had looked at his wife that way since they'd been here in Montana. He knew the other ranchers and his own men couldn't help but see she was beautiful, but they showed her complete respect, as the woman who belonged to Luke Fontaine.

"Well, hello, Mr. Bentley. So, you accepted my invitation to pay Luke a visit. You should have warned us. I could have prepared a fancier supper than what I have already planned." Lettie walked to stand behind Luke, putting her hands on his shoulders.

Nial bowed slightly, wishing this flutter Lettie Fontaine created in his soul would go away. He was hoping that when he saw her again, dressed more plainly as she was today, caught off guard with her hair drawn back into a simple bun, perhaps she would be less beautiful. Perhaps he would feel completely different from the first time he met her, but nothing had changed. He struggled not to let his feelings show in front of Luke, who he could tell, even sitting in a wheelchair, was a formidable man, obviously tall, looking strong and rugged. He'd heard stories about men like Luke, and about Luke himself. He belonged to a breed of men who guarded their land and possessions to the death, and that surely included their women.

"I am delighted to see you again, Mrs. Fontaine." He looked down at Luke. "Your wife did a fine job the other day at the cattlemen's meeting."

"So I'm told."

Nial swallowed at the look in Luke's eyes. He knew! The man already knew what he was thinking! He made a point of not looking back at Lettie. "Well, you are a lucky man, Mr. Fontaine. And might I add, I am very sorry for your injury. I heard the story of the buffalo hunters."

"Probably from Will Doolan," Luke answered, reaching up and touching one of Lettie's hands. He grinned. "Will loves to tell tall tales."

Nial cleared his throat and sat back down. "Yes, well, I have a feeling it was not such a tall story. A person could write a book about the experiences you and your family have had since coming here."

Little Pearl came back out to stand beside her mother and stare at the oddly dressed visitor, and Paul toddled out after her, grasping his mother's skirts and wanting to be picked up. Lettie reached down and lifted him, introducing Pearl and him, then Katie, who also came out to have a look. Robbie and Ty ran by then, screaming and playing Indian. "Our other two sons," Lettie explained. "Tyler is the oldest boy. He's seven and Robert is four."

Nial caught the pride in her voice, saw it in Luke's eyes. "You have a fine family, Mr. Fontaine."

Their eyes held for a moment, and Luke nodded. "I think so."

Nial could see that having any feelings for Lettie Fontaine was hopeless. He put on a grin. "Well, about my cattle. They're called Herefords, and believe me, they carry more pounds of beef on the hoof than any shorthorn. They have very broad heads and big necks, huge chests and short legs. An eight-month-old steer can weigh well over six hundred pounds, maybe a thousand. I've known mature steers to reach close to two thousand pounds. They're a sturdy animal, I assure you, and resistant to disease."

"Can they survive a Montana winter?"

"The ones I brought with me did just fine last winter."

"We've had winters that were a lot worse than last year's."

Nial leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I'll make a deal with you. Buy five hundred head from me, and if they don't make the next winter or don't breed well, I will refund your money. I'll sell you three bulls and several cows so you'll have some breeding stock. The rest will be young steers, money in the bank for you when they're grown and fattened. I have a lot more cows, but I need them for my own breeding purposes. I'll let you have all five hundred for eighty cents a head. That is very cheap compared to what you'll get for the steers later on, probably at least six to eight dollars a head."

Luke took a thin cigar from his shirt pocket, along with a match. He lit the smoke, looking out at some of his own cattle grazing below as he took a few puffs before replying. "Why are you so anxious to help the rest of us? We're your competition."

"We're all part of the Cattlemen's Association now, all here to help each other, are we not? Besides, I don't really own the cattle on any of my ranches, Mr. Fontaine. I only own the land itself. My father and several others formed a company back in England that invests in American cattle. They foresaw the profit that could be made in this industry. I came here to manage those investments and find a market for the Herefords. My father's company strongly believes in the breed and I am here to promote them and find new buyers."

"All right, Bentley. Lettie and Will both already told me a lot about this new breed. I'll give them a try, but I'll pay you half their worth. I'll give you the rest after they've proven themselves." He looked back at the Englishman. "For all I know you could hightail it back to England and I'd never see you or my money again. The damn cattle could die off on me over the next winter, and I'd be out four hundred dollars."

Bentley smiled. "Agreed. Half up front. But I assure you, I am here to stay, Mr. Fontaine. I promised my father I'd find a big market out here for him, and I do love this land. It's so beautiful. Everything is so big and spectacular! I'm not sure I could ever go back to England!"

"We love it here, too, Mr. Bentley," Lettie put in. "That's why we've never left, in spite of the bad times. There have also been a lot of good times."

Nial glanced at her again, wishing she hadn't spoken so he wouldn't have to look her way. How could a woman who had lived out here for so long and borne six children look like she did? Did she often think of her firstborn? He'd heard the woman actually thought the boy might still be alive. He supposed any mother would have to think that or go crazy.

"Would you like something to drink, Mr. Bentley?" she was asking. "Coffee? A little whiskey, perhaps?"

"Actually, I would love some tea. Would you have any?"

Lettie smiled. "Of course. I'll go heat the water." She went back inside, wondering if Luke noticed how Bentley looked at her. Bentley seemed to be on better behavior today, thank God. She was glad Luke was trying out the new breed of cattle, but she would be glad when Nial Bentley was gone. She hoped he didn't intend to visit too often. It made her much too uncomfortable.

Luke and Nial talked for another hour. Lettie served the tea, bringing a shot of whiskey to Luke, then stayed inside the house, away from Nial Bentley's roving eyes. She noticed Luke seemed wary of the man, gave him a few helpful hints on ranching in Montana but not offering a lot of details. She noticed he did not mention his plans to contract with the army. That was one deal he wanted for himself.

Finally Bentley rose and shook Luke's hand. "I'd better be off. Some of my men have made camp a few miles from here. We'll sleep under the stars tonight—too long a ride from here to my place to make it before dark."

"Aren't you a little uncomfortable in those clothes?" Lettie heard Luke ask him. She stifled a laugh as she came to the door to bid Nial Bentley good-bye.

"Oh, not at all, I assure you. I do have clothes more fitting to this kind of living. I only dress this way when I am visiting or going to an important meeting."

"Well, you don't need to dress fancy to come visiting here," Luke told him, shaking his hand.

Lettie came out then, carrying Paul, who was always begging to be picked up. "Good-bye, Mr. Bentley."

"Please, both of you call me Nial," the man answered, his eyes quickly moving over her before he bowed again. "It was so pleasant meeting you again, Mrs. Fontaine."

"Lettie," she answered. "Just Luke and Lettie."

Lettie, Nial thought. My beautiful Lettie. Such a strong, handsome, loving husband you have. If only I could woo you away from him. He donned his hat then, nodding to Luke again. "Well, then, Luke, I'll have my men bring over a couple of my best Herefords for you to see, and I'll send word to the overseer of my ranch in Wisconsin that you are willing to try them out. Next summer he'll ship five hundred of our best to the Double L, and you can start building from there. You won't regret it, Luke. Wait until you see how big the steers get after castration."

"Well, I always have my own shorthorns to fall back on if it doesn't work out. I might even try breeding the shorthorns with the Herefords."

Bentley brushed at his suit. "Sir, I guarantee that in a few years you'll be breeding nothing but Herefords." He nodded once more. "I'm off. I do pray that leg will heal much more quickly than the doctor thinks. When you can ride again, do come and pay a visit to Essex Manor. Feel free to bring the missus. She is quite a wonderful woman. You must be very proud to have a wife who is so intelligent and supportive to stand up for the Double L as she did at the cattlemen's meeting." He turned and walked off the porch, mounted up on his fine black horse, and gave another wave before finally riding off.

Lettie set Paul down. He toddled to the steps, then sat to scoot down them, then grabbed fists full of dirt from the driveway and threw them into the air, letting it blow back into his hair. Lettie pulled up the chair Bentley had used beside Luke and sat down. "Quite a character, isn't he?"

Luke smoked quietly, watching Nial Bentley ride through the gate. "Who? Paul? Or were you referring to Nial Bentley?"

Lettie caught the irritation in his voice. "Are you all right, Luke? You never put your jacket on. It's getting chilly."

Luke met her eyes then, a teasing smile on his face. "You are a hell of a woman, you know."

Lettie reddened, looking at her lap. "I can't help how the silly man looks at me, Luke. In fact, when I got the chance, I set him straight at the cattlemen's meeting. I told him that being a married woman, I did not appreciate him staring at me. He was quite apologetic and quite the gentleman after that. I don't think he means any harm."

Luke reached over and grasped her hand. "Why didn't you say something when you came home from the meeting?

She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess because I wanted so much for you to see about those Herefords. I was afraid if I made you dislike the man before you even met him, you wouldn't consider trying the new breed. What's good for the ranch comes above everything else."

"Lettie."

He squeezed her hand. When she met his eyes, she saw the love there, but also the stern look of a man who sets his own rules.

"Not when it comes to you and me and the kids. All of that always comes first. We said once that we'd tell each other everything, remember?"

She leaned forward and kissed him lightly. "I love you, Luke."

He closed his eyes and groaned. "Then don't kiss me. It's too hard on me, wanting you and being laid up like this. We're going to have to figure something out pretty soon, or I'll go crazy."

Lettie smiled. "Then think about other things, like breeding a new strain of cattle, and letting me send for that mine owner from Denver."

"I don't want any damn mining company coming in here and tearing up my land."

"He promises not to disturb the land any more than necessary. Luke, we've had enough hard times to know we can't just count on the cattle. We have to have something to fall back on in case of disease or drought. It can't hurt to let him see what's out there."

Luke sighed deeply. "You drive a hard bargain, woman." He gave her a wink. "Go ahead and send for him. I'm only doing it because if he finds anything valuable out there, I can build you that house that much quicker."

"I don't need the house, Luke—"

"Yes, you do, and a lot more. I promised you a big house and a tutor and maids and fine furniture—the works. You'll have it. This family has outgrown this place anyway. The girls should each have their own room, and Ty and Robbie shouldn't have to share a room with Paul. He is constantly getting into their things."

Lettie laughed. "He is a wild little thing. Sometimes he reminds me so much of—" Her smile faded. She turned then and ran to pick Paul up when he started toddling off toward some horses tied near the barn.

Luke watched her, still wrestling with whether he should tell her what he thought he had seen that morning he was found. Even if Nathan was alive, the little four-year-old boy who had been torn from his mother's arms was gone forever. Luke would never get over the guilt he felt for being partly responsible. Maybe that was what had stirred this fierce possessiveness he felt when he saw how Nial Bentley looked at her, his own fear of someday losing her because she might blame him, deep inside, for losing Nathan. That was why he had to keep all the rest of his promises, build her that big house, cater to her whims. He'd let the miner from Denver come out because it was what Lettie wanted, and he'd vowed a long time ago that whatever Lettie wanted, Lettie would get.