Wildest Dreams

chapter 20

Lettie knocked on the back door to the Lonesome Tree, hoping no one had seen her duck into the alley after leaving the hat shop. She had asked Bob Franks to take the children back to the ranch and had stayed two nights with Henny. Because of Henny's illness, she wasn't sure how much time there was left to be with her friend, and she knew Henny was lonely with Will gone, so she had decided to keep her company for a couple of extra days.

The visit had done her heart good. She had come to town to comfort Henny, but Henny had comforted her instead. Her good friend had a way of making her think, and she realized how wrong she had been to withdraw from the rest of her family because of Paul. She should be grateful for what she had left, a beautiful home, four other strong, healthy children, a husband who had practically killed himself to give her the life he thought she deserved. The women of Billings and the surrounding area had finally brought in a minister this summer, and a church had been built. Yesterday Reverend Gooding had come to visit Henny, but it was Lettie who had ended up having a heart-to-heart talk with the man. He had prayed with her, and she had come to accept that the reverend was probably right that God had had a purpose in taking little Paul. Maybe the whole experience would make Robbie a more dedicated doctor, a man who would someday save many lives. She had to believe there was a reason for her baby's death, or she could never go on with her own life. Now there was one more thing to be dealt with before she went home and waited for Luke. She had to know the truth about Annie Gates. She didn't really hate or blame Luke if he had been with the woman. He had literally had no wife for almost two years now. She just wanted to understand, wanted to hear from the horse's mouth if it meant anything, how many times he had been with the woman, or if perhaps there was no truth to it at all.

She almost jumped back when the door opened, and a mustached man wearing an apron scowled at her. She recognized Ben Pritchert, the owner of the Lonesome Tree. "What the hell do you want this time of morning?" He squinted his eyes. "Jesus! Ain't you Luke Fontaine's wife?"

Lettie held her chin high. "I am."

The man looked her over in surprise, and she wanted to die at realizing he probably knew why she had come. "I would like to see Miss Annie Gates, alone. Right here in your back room will suffice."

The man smoothed back what little hair he had, suddenly looking self-conscious. "Well, uh, Mrs. Fontaine, women like Annie, they don't exactly get up early in the mornin' like this. Why don't you come back after twelve?"

"I want to see her now! Go and get her, please." Lettie looked past him into the dark, stuffy storeroom. "I know Annie lives above your saloon with the other town prostitutes." She looked at Pritchert again. "Who, I might add, will someday be banished from Billings, if the women's group has their way."

Pritchert's face reddened a little. "That would hurt my business. Look, lady, don't go runnin' me out of business just because you've got it in for Annie on account of your husband. That's your problem, not mine."

Lettie had to contain herself to keep from hitting the man, but she could not control the crimson color that came to her cheeks. How could she have been such a fool! The whole town knew, and they probably blamed her for not being a good wife! "Please go and get her, Mr. Pritchert. I won't leave until you do. And believe me, that would hurt your business."

The man rubbed at sleepy eyes. "Shit," he muttered. He stepped back. "Come on in and close the door. I can't stand all that sunshine." He turned and left, and Lettie waited with a pounding heart. She had worn a new dress, a soft green summer cotton that fit her still-trim figure and full breasts perfectly. The high neck and the ruffles at the end of the three-quarter-length sleeves were trimmed with white lace, and the waistline was set off by a sash that tied into a wide bow at the back. The front of the skirt was fitted, then gathered into the back in a cascade of ruffles that fell into a short train.

She carried a parasol that matched the dress, wore her auburn hair swept up into curls and topped with a little straw hat with a band of the same material as the dress. Her ears sported tiny diamond earrings. She wanted to look her best, to show Annie Gates that Luke Fontaine's wife was still pretty and slender. She didn't need paint on her face, didn't need to deck herself out in low-cut satin dresses and dangling earrings. She had been here a lot longer than Annie Gates, had done much more to contribute to the growth and taming of Montana and Billings than the whores who came here after the fact to bring their corruption.

She winced at the room's musty smell, glanced at barrels of beer and bottles of whiskey stacked everywhere. This was a world only men understood... and women like Annie. She could not imagine a woman going to bed with just any man, many men. For her it would be like rape, and she well remembered what that had been like. It made no sense to her that a woman could do such a thing, but if she did have such uncontrollable urges, it was easy to understand why she would be attracted to a man like Luke. Any woman would be attracted to him, not just because of his wealth and power, but because of the man himself, his build, his looks... the gentle side of him she had not seen for such a long time. Was he gentle with Annie?

She shivered at the very picture of it. Luke! She had caused him to turn to another woman. The only thing she could be grateful for was that it was someone who could not possibly mean anything to him. What if it had been some young, decent, single woman he had taken an interest in! She might have no chance at all of fixing the damage and getting her husband back. Did he think she had been doing such things with Nial Bentley? If Luke came across the other ranchers who had gone after those rustlers, what would they tell him about Nial's visits to the Double L? She was grateful for Nial's attention these past months, valued his friendship, and had even been somewhat attracted to him. But no man could take Luke's place in her heart. Surely he knew that.

Now she wasn't sure what to think of Nial's attention. When she needed genuine sympathy and understanding, he had been there, but was Henny right in thinking he was just playing on her emotions? She realized that the only time he came calling was when Luke was gone. How sad that his attention to the children might not have been because he really cared about them but only to win her over. It made her sick to realize how blind she had been since Paul's death, how vulnerable. Over the years out here she had learned to be strong, to fight back; but Paul's death and Nathan's desertion had taken the fight out of her. Now she felt that old will returning. Seeing Henny failing so fast had made her realize how little time anyone had on this earth.

She drew a deep breath for courage when she heard a woman yelling then. So, Annie Gates did not appreciate being rousted out of bed so early. Maybe she still had a customer with her! The thought made her shiver. She wasn't sure what to expect. She had seen Annie a few times in town, but the woman had not attended any social or family events since the fall dance nearly five years ago. After that, the women of Billings had made it very clear they would not condone prostitutes being around their young sons and daughters and flaunting themselves in front of good, Christian people.

Suddenly the door to the back room was flung open, and both women just stared at each other for a moment.

Lettie felt sick at what she saw, a woman more beautiful than she wanted to admit. What a waste of such a lovely creature. In spite of the mussed blond hair and the bloodshot eyes she was still pretty. Rouge and lip color had been rubbed away through the night, probably by some man. She wore a flimsy gown and a robe with feathered sleeves, thin enough to make it obvious that the body underneath was perfectly curved. "If you're looking for Luke, he's not here," the woman spoke up.

Lettie tried to determine how old she might be, but it was impossible. Was she young but looked older because of her hard life? Or was she older than it appeared, seeming younger because of all that pretty hair and her nice shape? Lettie remembered the night of the dance someone had said something about how sad it was that someone only twenty had already fallen so deeply into sin. Were they talking about Annie? That would make her twenty-five now. "I'm not looking for Luke," she answered, forcing herself to remain calm. "I'm looking for you."

Annie sniffed, running her fingers through her hair and suddenly appearing self-conscious. "Ben, bring me a shot of whiskey!" she hollered through the door. Lettie heard the man's muffled answer, then felt almost naked as Annie stood there looking her over. "You sure are a pretty woman for your age," she said with a sly grin. "Is that what you want to know? If Luke still thinks you're pretty?"

Lettie wanted to crumble at the familiar way she spoke about her husband. "Does he?"

The door opened, and Ben handed Annie the drink. He glanced at Lettie with a worried look on his face, then closed the door again. Annie slugged down the whiskey as readily as any man would. "You're a fool, Mrs. Fontaine. I know your boy died and all, and I'm sorry about that. I just don't think you know what his death did to Luke. And I don't think you have any idea how much that man loves you."

Lettie blinked back tears, never dreaming she'd be grateful to hear those words coming from someone like Annie Gates. Annie folded her arms, shaking her head. "Of course he thinks you're pretty. He thinks you're the most beautiful woman who ever set foot in Montana, or anyplace else for that matter. He worships the ground you walk on, and he thinks he's disappointed you, failed you. He can't handle that because he was already rejected by his own father, who expects him to fail, wants him to fail. He could handle rejection by his father, but not from you. You mean too much to him."

Lettie frowned, amazed that this woman seemed to understand so much, that she seemed to care about Luke, the person. "He told you about his father?"

Annie let out a snicker, looking almost sorrowful. "Sure." She dropped her arms, stepped a little closer. "We talk, Mrs. Fontaine—something he hasn't been able to do with you for a long time. And believe it or not, talking is just about all we do. He's only slept with me once, and I don't think he got much out of it because it wasn't you. He's not a man who easily cheats on his wife, Mrs. Fontaine. He had a need and I filled it. It's that simple. That's my job."

Lettie turned away, jealousy raging through her. Until now it was just a rumor, and she had made herself believe it couldn't be true. Never had she burned so deeply to have her husband back sexually. It hit her so hard it almost hurt.

"Don't you go blaming him, lady," Annie told her. "He's a man, and he fought his needs for a long time."

Lettie swallowed, struggling to find her voice. "When... did it happen?"

Annie rolled her eyes. "Does it really matter? I told you it was only once. The point is, there is only one woman for Luke Fontaine, and you're it. The minute you set things straight with that man, I'll be lucky he even gives me the time of day. You don't think it meant anything, do you?" She chuckled. "Honey, I'm not that stupid, and don't you be. I like Luke. I helped him through a bad time, that's all. It's not his nature to have anybody in his bed but his wife, but the way I understand it, his wife hasn't been in his bed for close to two years now."

Lettie turned to face her. "I see you know just about everything there is to know."

Annie looked her over again. "I know you suffered a terrible loss, and that it is something the two of you should have shared instead of letting it come between you." Her eyes suddenly teared. "And I know I would give anything, anything, to be in your shoes. No man will ever love me like that, Mrs. Fontaine. I know that for a fact. God knows I'd give my right arm for a man like Luke. I could love him so easily. Fact is, maybe I do love him. Women like me, we do have feelings, in case you don't realize it. But it wouldn't do me any good to allow them to surface, especially for Luke Fontaine. Compared to you, I'm nothing in his eyes but someone he can have a drink with and spill his guts to and use for his manly needs when he gets to the point where he can't ignore them anymore." She wiped at a tear and took a deep breath. "You have something wonderful, Mrs. Fontaine —a good man who's handsome to boot, four beautiful children; you live in a mansion on the biggest ranch in Montana. My God, woman, don't throw it all away!"

Lettie wanted to hate her, scream at her; but she knew the woman was right. "I don't intend to. I just... I wanted to know if the rumors were true. Thank you for being honest with me and for... for apparently caring. I didn't think—"

"That I had any feelings?" She laughed lightly. "Honey, when you're raised like I was, by a step-father who beats you and starts coming to your bed when you're only eight, you learn how to shut off your feelings. But they're still there when necessary."

Lettie shivered at the realization of what had led the young woman to such a hideous life. Surely she felt unloved, dirty, unworthy of a decent life. "Annie, it's never too late for anyone, you know. If you wanted to get out of here, do something else with your life, you still could."

The woman waved her off. "You wouldn't understand."

Lettie thought about her own rape, how she had felt about herself afterward... until Luke came along. "Maybe I understand better than you know."

Annie frowned in confusion, and Lettie realized Luke had probably never told her about her own rape. He knew she never wanted anyone else to know. Even in his hour of deepest need and outpouring of heart to someone else, he had not said anything about his wife's rape, the illegitimacy of her first child. "Annie, I mean it. If you show you are trying to change your life, you can have friends besides men like Ben Pritchert, who you know doesn't give a damn about you; friends besides men who only want to use you; better friends than the other prostitutes that you know. Those women only like you because you're just like them."

For a brief moment Lettie could see that the words had cut deep. Annie looked almost as if she were going to start crying, but then she forced another laugh and tossed her head.

"Don't preach to me. There's been enough preaching here and I've done it. Don't ask me why. I've surprised even myself. Just take my advice, Mrs. Fontaine, and straighten things out with your husband. And stay away from that damned Englishman. He can't hold a candle to Luke Fontaine, in spite of all his money and his title."

Lettie's eyebrows arched in surprise. "What have you heard about me and Nial Bentley?"

Annie yelled out for more whiskey, then turned back to Lettie. "Nothing bad about you, honey. Everybody in this town respects you, knows you've been a woman in deep mourning over the loss of two children. It's Bentley everybody talks about, how he's just trying to take advantage of the situation, using your emotions to win you over. It's obvious the man was infatuated with you the first time he came around a few years ago."

The door opened again, and Ben handed Annie a whole bottle and another shot glass, then left again. Annie poured herself another shot and drank it down. "Nial is a smooth, clever man, Lettie. He's visited me a few times. You're a lucky woman. The two richest men in the territory are in love with you, but only one of them fathered your children and would die for you without question. Only one of them has guts, and only one of them got his wealth by getting his hands dirty and building it on his own. It wasn't handed to him. He had a woman to help him, a woman with as much guts as he has. They belong together. You don't match up with somebody like Nial. You belong with a man like Luke, helping to civilize this territory and make it grow. My kind—" She shrugged. "We'll move on to places where there isn't so much law yet, if there are any places like that left."

Lettie was dumbfounded at the entire conversation. She had expected a cat fight, shouting, eye scratching. "You're an unusual woman, Annie."

Annie laughed loudly. "I've never had it put that way before."

Lettie remained sober. "I mean it. And I meant what I said about getting out of this. I would openly call you my friend."

Annie's laugh faded to a soft chuckle. "You just go on and take care of your own life. I'll take care of mine."

Lettie turned to the door, then hesitated. "Please don't tell Luke I was ever here."

"Of course not. Something tells me I won't see much of him from here on anyway."

Lettie met her eyes once more. "I hope not." She swallowed back an urge to cry. "Thank you, Annie."

As Lettie left, Annie watched after her, tears slipping out of her eyes. "Any time," she muttered. She poured herself another drink.



Luke and the vigilantes with him numbered seventeen men all together. They made their way quietly below the rim of red rock that was the last barrier to the rustlers they knew were on the other side, grazing stolen horses and cattle along Pine Creek. Runner had stealthily sneaked close to their camp last night. The sly Indian was the only one of them who could get that close without being noticed or heard in the still night air. He had verified their suspicions. It was the Walkers, and he had recognized Luke's own brand on one of the stolen horses. They had talked about hitting another ranch before heading for Canada, and Zack Walker would pick up his son Johnny's wife on the way. Where she was living was unknown, but that didn't matter to the vigilantes. There was no doubt the men they had caught up with were the rustlers they had been after for months, the men who had murdered Matt Duncan and raped his wife. Runner reported there were at least ten outlaws that he could see in camp, but there could be more.

Luke suggested they split up, half the men riding in from one end of the canyon, the others cutting off the outlaws' flight from the other. It was just barely dawn, and thin clouds filtered the rising sun's light into shades of purple and peach. Runner had gone back on foot to find a place to hide, ready to cut loose the rustlers' remuda of riding horses as soon as he heard Luke and the other men coming in for them.

Luke petted his horse's nose to soothe the animal and keep it quiet, and no one spoke. They stayed to soft ground as much as possible and led their mounts rather than riding them, hoping to keep the rustlers from hearing the sound of squeaking saddles. The attack had to be a surprise, or they would fail.

Luke pulled out a pocket watch, checking the time. Six a.m. He knew it would take the other men another twenty minutes to get around their side of the rock formation, and he put up his hand for everyone to stop, as they were nearly in position to attack. He pulled his Colt revolver from its holster and checked to be sure every chamber was loaded, then put it back and mounted his horse, a buckskin gelding that was his favorite. The animal was fast, and quick to obey. He pulled his Lightning repeating rifle from its boot and rested it across his knees, waiting.

The dead quiet was almost deafening, the only sound the squeak of leather and an occasional cough. While he waited, Luke took time to think, all the things he could and should say to Lettie parading through his mind. Should he be angry with her for letting Nial Bentley come visiting while he was gone? No. Nial was the one who should receive the brunt of his anger. The man had been warned once. Their next encounter would involve more than a warning. The thought of some man thinking he could move in on Luke Fontaine's wife... the bastard! Then again, what would Lettie think of his turning to Annie Gates? Did she know? Maybe she didn't even care. Maybe she and Nial had... No. Lettie wouldn't do that, even if she knew about him and Annie.

"Luke, you with us?"

Luke turned to look back at Will.

"Get your thoughts on matters at hand," Will told him quietly. "It's time we rode in."

Luke nodded, raising his rifle as a signal. He kept the rifle in hand and kicked his horse's flanks, breaking the animal into a gallop and heading around the south end of the canyon wall. From there on the ride had to be hard and fast. They could not attack by riding down from above, or the rustlers would have the chance to flee the canyon with their pursuers behind them. Attacking from both ends of the canyon was the only way. A climb out would be very difficult if the outlaws wanted to escape that way, but there was always that possibility, at least for a few of them. Reaching them as quickly as they could, guns ready, was the only answer.

Dust and gravel flew as Luke and Will and the others charged forward, some of them splashing through the shallow creek. Horses and cattle began to stir restlessly, and some of the men shot off their guns to scatter the herds and confuse the rustlers. As they got closer, Luke could see men running everywhere, some heading for where they probably thought their remuda waited. They would find nothing there, if Runner had done his job. He heard the whir of a bullet, felt the rushing sound near his ear, and he knew the rustlers were shooting at them now. "Take cover!" he shouted, pulling his own horse to a sliding halt and dismounting to take a position behind a large boulder. He pulled the horse around with him, and Will joined him.

Luke positioned his rifle, took aim, and fired. One of the men screamed and went down. He shot at others who were running in every direction, trying to get to their horses. Bullets spit back at them, pinging at the rock, biting off bits of the boulder. A piece of the rock shattered against Luke's face, cutting into it in several places. Instantly he squeezed his eyes shut and turned away for a moment. He put a hand to his face and saw considerable blood on his palm. "Damn!" he swore. "Watch yourself, Will."

He got no answer but there was no time to turn to see how his friend was doing. He could see the rest of the vigilantes riding in now from the other end of the canyon. He heard the rustlers screaming obscenities over being trapped. A second man went down from Luke's own gun. A third. He saw four others down from bullets from other guns. One of the outlaws was writhing in pain. Two men were trying to sneak up the canyon wall, and Luke took careful aim with his rifle and fired. One of them cried out and tumbled back down the hill, his body bouncing against boulders. The second man made it to the top and disappeared over the edge.

The remaining rustlers threw down their guns and put their hands in the air, and the vigilantes who had ridden in from the north end of the canyon surrounded them. "We got them, Will!" Luke grinned, wiping more blood from his face as he turned to share the moment, only to see Will lying flat on his back, a bloody hole in his face. "Will!"

Luke bent down to feel for a pulse. Will's eyes were still open, and horror moved through Luke at the realization that his good friend was dead. He thought for a moment that his heart would stop beating, and a painful lump formed in his throat. "Will!" He groaned. Tears formed in his eyes, and he gently reached over and closed Will's eyelids. He leaned across the man to pick up his hat and he placed it over Will's face. Anger and grief filled him in overwhelming proportions, and he stood up. "Is everybody all right?" he shouted.

"All okay, Luke," Tex shouted in reply. "We've got three of them over here. I think just one got away!" He let out a war whoop. "All the rustlers, and we got our horses and cattle back to boot!"

Luke looked back down at Will. What would he have done in those early years without this man? He would never find a more faithful friend again. This man was one of Montana's original settlers. And Henny—she had suffered the worst loneliness, for not only were there no neighbors in the beginning, but she never even was able to have children. She'd be so alone now, half crippled, so sick. How in hell could he go home and tell her Will was dead? The man was her whole world. "Bastards!" He sobbed.

He quickly wiped at tears, smearing them with the blood that continued to stream down his face from the superficial wounds. He turned then and stormed toward the others. "Will's dead!" he shouted. "The sons of bitches killed him!"

Tex reached out and grasped his arm. "Your face, boss. It's covered with blood."

"I'm all right. Just got hit with pieces of rock." He wiped at it again with his shirtsleeve, walking up closer to glare at the rustlers, whose faces showed their terror. Two were young, perhaps in their twenties. The third man was older and bearded. "The best man who ever set foot in Montana is dead!" he growled at them. "So is another good man. Matt Duncan! His wife raped! Those cattle and horses out there carry all our brands. We don't need any more reason than that to hang the lot of you!"

A fourth survivor lay groaning on the ground. Tex turned around and shot him in the head without hesitation.

The older of the three captives gasped, looked around at the vigilantes. "Look, I... I don't know anything about killin' a man or rapin' his wife," he told them, shaking. "I just met up with the Walkers here a few days ago."

Luke looked them over carefully, his steely blue eyes resting on the younger boys. "Walkers! By God, you are the sneaking thieves I chased off my land over a year ago! Zack Walker's boys! We heard you were behind this, but I thought you were smart enough to stay the hell out of Montana! How in hell did you end up with a whole gang of rustlers!"

"To show rich bastards like you, Luke Fontaine, that you can't have it all," Johnny Walker answered with a sneer.

"Johnny, shut up!" the other warned. "Don't rile him more."

Luke shoved his rifle barrel against Johnny's throat. The young man smelled as though he hadn't bathed in months. His dull blond hair was pasted to his head from too much oil and dirt, and his thin face was set off with narrow dark eyes that reminded Luke of a small animal rather than a human. As far as Luke was concerned, he was an animal. "My best friend is dead," he told Johnny through clenched teeth. His jaw flexed in his rage. "I'd rather lose my entire herd than lose Will Doolan's companionship!" He looked at the other brother, who he remembered was called Jeeter. "I'm already as riled as I've ever been in my life!" he growled. He stepped back and looked over at the older man. "Who are you?"

The man blinked and swallowed, visibly shaking. "B-Baker. Clyde Baker. It's like I said. I... I just joined up with this bunch. I don't know nothin' about killin' no Matt Duncan, and... and I never fired a gun just now. I ain't even wearin' one."

Tex spoke up. "You had a hand in stealin' horses and cattle. Out here, that's enough to hang a man."

The others joined in agreement. "I vote for hanging, too," Calvin Briggs put in. "We've got the right. All the cattlemen agreed on it, and Sheriff Tracy doesn't have any say out here."

"Hang them, Luke, or they'll just come back with more men and make more trouble," another one of Luke's men said. "Matt Duncan's dead, and you and the other ranchers have had too much stock stolen the past couple of years. This probably won't stop it completely, but we can slow it up. Don't forget Duncan's wife was raped, and one of Duncan's men lived to tell us he for sure knows these Walker boys and their pa were part of the gang that did it. These bastards don't deserve a trial!"

"Hey, look!" Baker spoke up, nearly ready to cry. "I told you, I never killed anybody, and I sure never raped no woman! Maybe these other two were there, but I wasn't!"

"You stinkin' coward!" Johnny turned his head and spit on Baker, who just cringed. He turned to glare at Luke then, realizing Luke was looked to as a leader by the other vigilantes. "If you hang us, Pa will get you, one way or another!" he told Luke calmly. "He got away, and he's probably up there someplace watchin' you right now. You'd better let us go, Luke Fontaine, or he'll get you. You're the one he'll come after, 'cause you're the one he hates. He'll get you, your wife, and your kids! Two of your kids for two of his!"

"Damn it, Johnny, shut your damn mouth!" Jeeter warned.

The rage in Luke's eyes made Baker break into tears. Luke stepped up closer to Johnny. "Just threatening my family is a hanging offense in my book." He sneered. "And if your pa has any sense at all, he'll be wise to get as far away from the Double L as possible. Fact is, he'd better get the hell out of Montana completely, or he'll end up in a noose, too!" He turned to the men who had ridden with him. "My vote is to hang the Walker boys and let the older man go. I believe him about not being part of the bunch that killed Matt Duncan."

Baker sank to his knees and cried even more, this time with relief.

"Bastard!" Johnny cursed. "You rich goddamn bastard! Your wife's gonna die, Fontaine! To hell with all you Fontaines, your wife, your sons, and your daughters!"

"Jesus, Johnny, you're only makin' it worse," Jeeter pleaded, himself breaking into tears.

"Baker here stole cattle," Tex reminded Luke. "He ought to hang, too."

Luke glanced at Baker. "I think he's smart enough to get the hell out of here and never come back... maybe smart enough to think twice before joining a bunch of rustlers again. Let him go." He walked over to Baker and poked him with his rifle. "Get up. You're going to help us bury all these men when this is over with, and then I want you to rustle up one of your own horses and get your ass out of Montana."

Baker stood up, wiping at his eyes with dirty hands. "Thanks, mister. You won't never see me around here again." He hurried away, and Luke turned to the rest of the men.

"You know what my vote is. The rest of you vote and I'll abide by what you decide. I'm going to ride back to where we left the packhorses and take care of Will. I don't give a damn about the rest of this shit." He walked away and mounted his horse, wondering how he was going to break this to Henny.