Wildest Dreams

chapter 22

"What are you going to do with Will's property?" Lettie pulled on her flannel nightgown in the darkness away from the light of the campfire, so that the Double L men who had accompanied them could not see her. She moved into the firelight then and settled into her bedroll.

"I don't know yet," Luke answered after taking a moment to consider her question. "Will told me a long time ago he wanted to leave it to me if anything happened to him, but I never thought much about what I would do with it. I figured he'd be around a good long time yet."

Lettie pulled the blankets around her neck and looked up at the stars, feeling safe because her very able husband was near her, just on the other side of their campfire. Four more Double L men were camped nearby, close enough to come if there was trouble, far enough that they could not hear Luke's and her conversation.

Luke wanted this trip to the northern line camp to be as private for them as possible, but he also wanted to be sure that nothing would ever again happen like the first time they had ridden off together to be alone. He was a little worried about Zack Walker looking for revenge, and he had left instructions for plenty of men to keep an eye on Mae and the children while they were gone.

"You miss Will terribly, don't you?" Lettie asked.

Luke moved his arms behind his head. "Just like you miss Henny. The hard part was, one minute he was there talking to me, and the next he was gone."

It was two days ago that Luke had come to Billings to fetch her. They had stayed one night at Will and Henny's, had found Will's handwritten will saying he wanted Luke to have everything. It was really more of a letter, not very well done, written by a man who had never had much schooling. "I don't want nobody but my best friend, Luke Fontaine, to have my proppity," it had read. "Ain't no better man around. He'll do what's best with it, and he'll take care of my Henny for as long as she needs taken care of." Lettie smiled at the words, written just the way Will would have spoken them; but there was no Henny to be taken care of. It still didn't seem possible they were both gone. The loss had affected both Luke and her deeply, and combined with being apart for over three months and the problems they had had for almost two years now, had made them continue to feel a little like strangers. They kept busy sorting through things and closing up the Doolan house until Luke could decide what to do with it. There had been little talk about their own personal problems, and the night before they had slept in separate rooms at home, as they had been doing for months now. They both silently understood that there were too many things to talk about before they could sleep together again, make love again. They had left early in the morning for the northern line camp, but it would be another day before they reached it.

Lettie studied the sky, feeling more at peace than she had since Nathan ran off and little Paul... Was he up there somewhere, laughing, playing?

"Have I told you how beautiful you looked today in that riding outfit?"

Luke's words interrupted her thoughts, and she smiled. "You haven't told me I was beautiful for quite a long time."

He turned to look at her, aching to have her beside him. Not tonight. With four of his men nearby, this was not the time or place to make love to his woman for the first time in almost two years. But he vowed that by tomorrow night their differences would be settled and Lettie Fontaine would be reminded of the pleasures of making love. "You've always looked beautiful to me. I just..." He picked up a stick and poked at the fire, causing little sparks to scatter into the air. "I just wasn't sure you wanted to hear me say that or much of anything else these last few months."

Lettie thought how he hadn't changed himself, except to look more tanned and brawny and rugged than when she'd first married him. He had taken off his shirt, and in the firelight his arms and shoulders were as hard-muscled as fourteen years ago when they first married. "I'm sorry, Luke. So much of that was my fault."

He sighed and lay back. "I could have done more to help what you were going through. We could have helped each other. We broke our promise, Lettie, to tell each other everything we were feeling." He turned his head to look at her again. "What happened while I was gone? You seemed different when I got back, more like the Lettie I used to know."

A wolf howled in the distant hills, and others began to join in. Lettie thought how the sound used to frighten her, but now she realized she probably couldn't go to sleep without it. "I had a long talk with Henny." And with Annie Gates. "I saw her sitting there all crippled up, childless, looking so much older than she really was; and I knew it was wrong to pine over my own losses, when I still had so much left to me. I had already been thinking that way; Henny just helped clarify things for me. It's so sad to realize that was our last conversation. Her very last deed on earth was to help me save my marriage." She looked over at him. "I guess I never stopped to think until lately that it could really end."

Luke rose up to rest on one elbow. "No, Lettie, it could never end; not on my part, anyway." He read the question in her eyes. "You're wondering about Annie Gates."

Lettie looked away then, feeling the crimson of anger and jealousy come into her cheeks.

"Annie is a good woman in some ways, Lettie, but she never did and never could mean a damn thing to me," Luke continued. "I might as well tell you so you can digest it for a while before we reach the cabin tomorrow. I slept with Annie, but only once, and only because I thought I'd go crazy with the want of you. I'm sorry, because I know it hurts you. It meant absolutely nothing."

Lettie could not control the tears that came then. She quickly wiped at her eyes, swallowing and breathing deeply to find her voice. Luke flopped back down, putting a hand to his head. "I shouldn't have said anything," he apologized. "I just figured someone had told you about Annie and me, so I thought I'd better clear it all up."

"Nial Bentley told me about you and Annie," she said with a sob. "I was too blind to realize what he was trying to do." She reached over to her supply pack that lay nearby and fished for a handkerchief. "I know you're wondering the same thing about Nial that I was wondering about you and Annie." She sniffed in another sob. "Oh, Luke, I would never, never—"

"You don't even have to say it. Nial Bentley is a closed chapter in both our lives."

Lettie glanced at his right hand, which rested on his chest. It was still stiff and swollen. "You told me you hurt your hand fighting one of the rustlers, but that was several days ago. That looks like a more recent injury to me. You saw Nial, didn't you? You saw him and you hit him."

Luke lay there quietly for a moment. "I had a right to."

"Where? When?"

"Don't worry. Nobody saw us, and I didn't do any permanent damage. The bastard actually admitted to me, your own husband, that he loves you." He rubbed at his eyes. "Damned if I can blame him. I don't doubt there are other men I know who secretly admire you. They'd be crazy not to, but they're not stupid enough to go sneaking around actually trying to win you over behind my back. If he wants to try to get my land or my cattle, that's one thing; but my woman is another. That's what got to me, especially when

Ty told me about him trying to kiss you. The son of a bitch thinks his money and title can win him anything."

My woman. The words sounded good, stirred something deep inside Lettie. Suddenly she wished they were already at the cabin, so she could show him she could love him in a special way that Annie Gates never could. She found the handkerchief and used it to wipe at more tears. "Ty reminded me so much of you that day, standing there protecting me, looking so sure. Nial was truly afraid of him. Ty is exactly like you, in looks and temperament. He and I drew a lot closer that day, and when I realized how Nial had used my grief and my children to try to get to me, I began to see a lot of things more clearly." She felt better then, wiped at her eyes again, keeping the handkerchief in her fist. "It looks like Ty is the only son who will walk in your shoes, Luke."

"Robbie will come around."

"Robbie wants to be a doctor."

"He's only twelve."

"He'll never get over Paul dying while he was helping take care of him. Being a doctor means everything to him, Luke. You've got to let your children do what's in them to do. Katie already wants to teach, Pearl has her music, and Robbie wants to go to the University of Michigan when he's old enough, if he can qualify. He's been reading books on medicine, devours them."

"Books Nial Bentley gave him. He innocently showed some of them to me last night, little realizing how I felt knowing that bastard has been trying to take my place. I don't like another man planting ideas in my childrens' heads. I need Robbie on the ranch. I want all my..." He hesitated, realizing there were only two sons left. He wondered if the ache of losing little Paul would ever go away. "Both my sons to be a part of the Double L."

"A man's heart has to be in his work, Luke. You know that better than anyone. You had a dream, and Ty's is the same. Robbie has a different dream."

Luke scowled. "And a mother always sticks up for her children, whether they're right or wrong."

"Is it so wrong to want to be a doctor? To help people? Save lives?"

He sighed deeply. "You are back to your old self." He turned on his side again. "We didn't come out here to talk about the children."

"We have to, Luke. The only one you're really close to is Ty. The other three love and miss their father. When we get back home, you need to spend some time with them. Your idea of sharing time with them is to have them all come out and help with the work, but they aren't all cut out for herding cattle and roping and branding. You've got to face that, Luke, do other things with them, listen to Pearl's piano playing, listen to Katie and Robbie tell you what they want in life, share their dreams. We can't talk about us without bringing them into it, because they are us. That's why it was so hard to bury Paul. Burying a child is like burying a part of your own body. Reverend Gooding told me—"

"Lettie, I don't want to talk about Paul. I can't."

She turned to face him. "We have to talk about him! That's what this is all about. Paul's death is what drove us apart."

Luke lay back down and turned his back to her, and for several minutes there was only the sound of the crackling fire and the wolves howling to each other in the soft moonlight.

"Luke, the misunderstandings that come from silence can bring more pain than shouted words. It's silence that has kept us apart, and I'm just as much at fault as you."

He finally turned to lie on his back again, but he looked at the sky, not at Lettie. "I feel like such a failure, Lettie, as a father, a husband, a protector. If I hadn't chosen to settle where I did, we'd probably still have both Nathan and Paul. Do you think I don't realize you blame me for that? Do you think that if I could give up everything I have built here just to have them both back, that I wouldn't do it?"

Her eyes teared again. "Oh, Luke, I know I made you feel to blame, but I was so wrong. I was looking for someone to blame, so I wouldn't have to face my own guilt."

He finally met her eyes. "Your guilt? For what?"

"Luke, I made the choice to come here with you, knowing how difficult and dangerous it would be for all of us, especially Nathan. I was young and madly in love, and I couldn't believe anything bad could ever happen to my son. And after Nathan disappeared, you offered to give up the ranch and move closer to town. I'm the one who wanted to stay right where we were, in case Nathan ever returned. I'm the reason we lived so far from town when Paul got sick." She sighed deeply. "I'm not so sure any doctor could have done much more for him than we did. It isn't only the fact that we couldn't get help that I feel terrible about. My guilt over Paul is..." She hesitated, always finding it difficult to talk about her baby. "I will always regret not giving Paul the time and attention he so craved those last few weeks before he got sick."

The memory overwhelmed her again, and she lay quietly crying. She never heard Luke get up. She only knew that in the next moment he was there beside her, pulling her into his arms. He pulled one of her blankets around her shoulders and kissed her hair. "Lettie, I think it's natural to blame ourselves for all the things we might have done differently. I know now that it's all just a reaction to losing someone precious to us. We want to make it better by blaming someone else; and then we turn the blame on ourselves, thinking that by doing some kind of penance, we can bring them back."

"I was so wrong to blame you at first. I know what that must have done to you. Until these last few months when you stayed away so much, you were a good father, Luke. I just want that man back. I want my husband back."

"He's right here, Lettie. Come sleep beside me tonight. I just want to hold you." His voice broke on the last words. "I miss little Paul so much, Lettie." He wept. "We should share that grief."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, and her own tears came harder then. "He's up there, Luke," she whispered. "He's up there, playing among the stars."

"I want you to come back with me, Irv. You and your boys.

You're my brother, and them nephews of mine is like my own sons, sons I've lost." Zack Walker downed another shot of whiskey. "Luke Fontaine and that bunch with him had no right hangin' Johnny and Jeeter. Killin' Matt Duncan was self-defense, and the boys was just havin' a little fun with the man's wife. They didn't hurt her none. She probably enjoyed it."

He did not notice Irv's wife cast him a look of disdain. The woman had long ago learned to keep her mouth shut when it came to having her own opinion about anything. She had suffered enough beatings to know when to keep quiet. She pushed back a piece of stringy hair and turned to stir a pot of stew. Sweat stained her plain, long-sleeved dress, which was too warm for such a hot day; but her husband refused to allow her to show any part of her body but her hands and face, except to his own groping hands at night. That had resulted in ten children, the three oldest, Ben, Larry and Jim, already twenty-two, twenty, and nineteen, respectively. Her youngest was five. In spite of how they had been conceived, she still loved her children, and she did not like the idea that her brother-in-law was proposing now— that her husband and three oldest sons go with him on a journey of revenge; but no one was going to ask her opinion, and she dared not offer it.

"Think about it, Irv. How would you feel if it was your boys you seen strung up like pigs?"

Irv scratched at a graying beard, his dark, beady eyes studying his brother's own aging face. "Back home in Tennessee, we wouldn't have let somethin' like this go," he drawled.

"And not here either! Come back up to Montana with me, Irv. We'll gather some more men so's we have plenty. We'll find a way to pay Fontaine back for my sons, and we'll ride on up into Canada with some of the finest cattle and horses anywhere around; or we can bring them back down here to Wyoming, take 'em on down the Outlaw Trail. There's plenty of outlaws and rustlers there who'd pay us in gold for the stolen beef. I can see you ain't makin' it on this here ranch."

"Some big rancher north of here cut off my water supply. My grass dried up, and I had to sell my beef."

"There, you see what I mean? You've had the same problems I've had with Fontaine, the big landowners comin' down on us poor folks who are strugglin' to make ends meet. It ain't fair, Irv. In this family we believe in an eye for an eye, and it's time to get even. On our way back into Montana we can rustle some beef away from that rancher north of here who has given you so much trouble. We'll be helpin' each other, Irv. You must know how important this is to me. I've rode day and night just to get here as fast as I could."

Irv sighed deeply, glancing at his wife. "Ought to be enough food stored up that the woman will get by till I get back, and Billy and Drew are old enough to stay here and take care of their ma."

"But we want to go with you, Pa!" Billy spoke up.

"Shut up, boy! I told all of you to sit quiet and let me talk to your uncle!"

All ten Walker children sat in a circle around the big wooden table, faces dirty, hair oily, clothes soiled, faces stony. They, too, had learned from an early age to be silent unless given permission to speak.

"Liz, Marybeth, come help me dish up the stew," their mother ordered.

The two older girls immediately obeyed. Thirteen-year-old Dennis sat pouting. He, too, wanted to go with his father and uncle to steal cattle and see how exciting it might be to ride into Montana and take revenge against a rich, powerful rancher like Luke Fontaine.

"What do you think, boys?" Irv directed the question at his three oldest sons. "You willin' to take the risk to defend the Walker family honor?"

"Yes, sir," Benny answered immediately.

"I'll be glad to go," Jim said. Glad to get the hell away from this boring place, he thought.

"Sure, I'll go, Pa," Larry added. "I can shoot real straight."

Zack Walker grinned. "Hey, boys, Luke Fontaine's got a daughter just about old enough to be findin' out about men. I seen her in town once. Her name's Katie, and she's right pretty. I'd guess she's about thirteen or fourteen by now."

All three boys grinned, and Zack directed his gaze to his brother. "I can't think of no better way to get revenge than to soil that man's own daughter. Let the Walker boys stick her good. We'll take the man's cattle and his daughter; and maybe we'll get one of his sons, too."

"How are we gonna get in there to do it?"

"I'll have to think on it. We'll find a way. He figures I'm long gone, that I'd be too afraid to come back. But that son of a bitch don't scare me none. I've got a little surprise for him."

"You sure we ain't bitin' off more than we can chew?"

"Not if we plan it right and bring in some more men to help us." Zach put out his hand. "After it's over, we'll go get Johnny's wife and the grandkids. They're all still in northern Montana, where we've been livin' in a deserted cabin. You with me, brother?"

Irv grinned, displaying yellowed teeth, one of them missing in front. He grasped his brother's hand firmly. "I'm with you."



"I'm thinking of forming a society for preserving the memories of people like Will and Henny," Lettie told Luke. She picked up his plate, smiling at the fact that he had eaten two huge bowls of beef stew and nearly half a loaf of bread. The beef, of course, came from Double L cattle, a smoked roast she had brought along with potatoes and vegetables so she could cook her husband a real meal once they arrived at the cabin. She had even baked an apple pie, and she carried it over to the table to slice it. "I want to be sure people like that are remembered. We could save some of Will's buckskin clothes, some of Henny's dresses, things like that. I think you should also start saving certain tools and equipment as they become outdated. Years from now those things could be of value. I remember visiting a museum in St. Louis when I was little, and the courthouse where people used to gather before heading out on the Oregon Trail. With the railroad being built, things like that are becoming a part of history. I want to preserve Montana's history, Luke." She sat down again. "Men like Will... and like you... should be remembered."

He put a hand over hers. "It's the women who make it all possible. You mark my word. Someday the women will be remembered with a lot more enthusiasm and melancholy than the men."

She smiled softly. "Maybe." She studied his dark, strong hand, feeling almost like a newlywed again, even more nervous because they had let themselves become such strangers. An approaching storm had turned dusk to an early darkness, and she knew that tonight... "Do you want some pie?"

Luke noticed her avoiding his eyes. "Lettie, let's save the pie for later."

Thunder rumbled in the mountains that surrounded them, and Lettie remembered his first kiss... on the wagon train west. It had been storming then, too. She finally met his eyes. "Tell me that being with Annie wasn't as pleasurable as being with your wife."

His handsome blue eyes showed the anguish he felt for having turned to another woman. "Do you really need to ask?"

She looked down at the table again. "Sometimes I hated you, Luke, but it was only because I loved you so much. Does that make any sense?"

He squeezed her hand. "Yes. I've felt the same way about you at times, mainly because I hated myself, for failing you. I hated the fact that you came from a life that I couldn't give you for a long time. I figured you were beginning to resent the fact that I've made you live in a place where there are no theaters, no paved streets, no formal schools. I wanted to hate you because it was easier than loving you and having you reject me for someone who could truly give you the finer life, travel with you to Europe, take you to the theaters of New York—"

"Oh, Luke, surely you know those things mean nothing to me! How could I enjoy those things without the man I love at my side?"

"A bastard, who has had to struggle for every bit of what we have and who has made you struggle right along with him and has put you through hell. Nial Bentley comes from a highly respected English family. He's a man whose parentage is legitimate, a man for whom the money will never run out. If his ranch went under tomorrow, he'd still be well set."

Lettie shook her head. "I would rather have nothing material and have you at my side, than to have all of England's wealth and have to share it with a man whose touch does nothing for me, a man whose love can never be anything but shallow, who wants me only as a decoration on his arm. He did not build what he has with his own two hands. He didn't risk his life for it. And he did not father my children." She felt her cheeks warm at the last words, and she looked down again. "I feel so strange," she whispered. "Being here in this cabin reminds me of the early years."

Luke got up, came around and took her arm, gently pulling her out of the chair. The thunder came closer, but it could not rumble any louder than the thundering of their hearts as Luke pulled her close and embraced her warmly, kissing her hair, her forehead, her eyes. She kept those eyes closed, turned her face up more so that his lips could caress her cheeks, her nose, finally her mouth, in a sweet, warm, provocative kiss that awakened buried desires.

There was no ignoring the desperate need they both felt from that moment on. He picked her up in his arms and carried her through a curtained door into a little room that held only a bed and chest of drawers. Their kisses became heated and hungry, and the feel of his hands moving over her hips, her breasts, only made her want him more. She wanted to prove to him that he did not need someone like Annie Gates to pleasure him; and Luke in turn wanted to prove that this woman belonged only to Luke Fontaine, that no man could love her with as much passion, no man could please her more.

In the deep passion of renewed love their clothes came off with eagerness, until naked skin touched, pressed, rubbed. Nothing needed to be said, and no preliminaries were necessary. All the intimacies, the tasting and exploring, would come later. They had all night to do this a hundred ways, all night to go more slowly, to savor every inch of each other's bodies again. For the moment, there was only the need to brand and be branded, to share that one special thing that was special only for them, to express long-buried love in the most intimate way, the ultimate joy of the union of two bodies, two people who had shared great joy and great sorrow.

Outside the cabin the summer storm raged full force, just as their own physical needs raged to be released. Lettie gasped when he entered her with the full force of his need. It had been so long for her that it was almost painful, for he was greatly swollen with pent-up desire. His shaft was hot and hungry, and he moved in wild rhythm, groaning her name, his heated body sliding against her skin, his broad shoulders hovering over her possessively, protectively.

She had never wanted him with such aching passion, not even in those first years of marriage. The troubles they had seen had come full circle and now seemed to bond them more closely, sealing vows made long ago. He grasped her hips and shoved himself deep, shuddering when his life spilled into her, and they both knew, in that moment, that nothing, no sorrow, no hardship, no other human being, could ever again come between them.