Wildest Dreams

chapter 5

"Hello, there!"

Lettie studied the man who had shouted the words, a bearded, burly-looking man in buckskins named Will Doolan, whom Luke had already learned was thirty-five years old and once scouted for wagon trains headed to California and Oregon. The man stood on the porch of his sturdy-looking log home east of Billings, a piece of property Lettie thought was not nearly as pretty a setting as the one Luke had chosen, but then Luke had gone into country still prowled by outlaws and Indians alike, country beautiful because of its wildness.

"Hello, Will," Luke called back.

Doolan stepped off the porch, the fringes of his buckskin jacket moving with him. In the past two weeks the weather had remained stable, cold but bearable, not a lot of snow so far. Lettie wore a heavy wool shawl and a wool scarf wrapped around her head and neck. Nathan was wrapped in several blankets. Luke waved to the man as he steered the wagon in which they rode up close to Doolan's house. A huge dog chained to the corner of the cabin began barking wildly at their arrival. It was a beautiful animal, looked as though it had to be part wolf.

"Shut up, Bear!" Will ordered the animal.

The dog quieted, but it watched them warily. The front door of the cabin opened then, and a woman appeared, smiling. Lettie knew it must be Henrietta Doolan. Luke had met Will the first time they arrived at Billings, and the man had told him to come by for a visit anytime. All Lettie knew about these two was what Luke had been able to learn in town—that they had been here for about ten years, struggling against Indians and the elements to build a ranch, a man with the same dream Luke had. The couple was childless.

The woman Lettie saw in the doorway looked as though she had once been very pretty, but now her hair showed gray, and her face was beginning to wrinkle considerably. Lettie wondered if she was really a lot older than Will, or if the harsh living out here had just aged her well beyond her actual years. She was a little heavyset, but still had a nice shape.

"Henny, this here is the new couple I told you I met in town about three weeks ago—Luke and Lettie Fontaine. Luke went on west of Billings to see about claiming some land there."

"West!" Henrietta exclaimed in a rich voice. She looked surprised. "Well, what brave souls you are! Welcome! Do come in!" In spite of the cold, the woman rushed out to take Nathan from Lettie's arms so Lettie could climb down from the wagon.

Luke got down from his side and tied the lead mules, then shook Will's hand. "My wife could use a woman's company," he said with a grin. "This is the first time away from her mother and sister and the rest of her family."

"Well, I understand that feeling," Henrietta said in a friendly voice. Lettie smiled at the woman, and they exchanged a look of longing, both of them delighted to have another woman to talk to.

"I'm afraid I'm a bit of a city girl," she told Henrietta, taking Nathan back into her own arms. "I'm from St. Joseph, Missouri."

A distant loneliness shone in Henrietta's eyes. "Well, I was raised in a city myself. I came west from Chicago in '49 with my family. My father was on his way to California to look for gold. I took one look at our scout, who happened to be Will here, and I fell in love. I was only sixteen, Will was twenty-one. We got married at Fort Laramie, and I lived there for about five years while Will continued to lead wagon trains west—didn't get to see him much." She led Lettie toward the house. "We both finally got tired of being apart so much, and Will was always the type who hated too much civilization, so he chose to come up here to settle."

The woman rattled on nonstop, and Lettie sensed she needed to talk. She wondered if it would be that way for her in a few years, hungering for company, aging ahead of her years. If her figuring was right, the woman couldn't be more than thirty years old. She looked fifty.

"Luke and I had to come to town for more supplies," she explained as she walked inside the cabin. "Luke wants to get some tar paper for our cabin, and we need to stock up on more food."

"Well, out here it's a must that you get to know your neighbors, even if they're eight or ten miles away. You never know when you'll need them," Henrietta answered rather wistfully. "Please, take off your wrap and sit down. And let me see your little son! Will told me the boy's father was killed back in Kansas. I'm so sorry. I'm glad you found a good man who can be a father to him."

Lettie felt a flow of love for Luke at the words. In spite of the hardships and loneliness of the past three weeks, she couldn't be happier with the man she had chosen for a husband. The days were long and filled with backbreaking work that left them both exhausted at night, yet there had been few nights when they hadn't found the energy to explore the wonders of their passion. Luke was a good father to Nathan, always took time for the boy, even on the days when he worked so hard cutting and stacking wood and building fences for the animals that he could hardly walk straight when he came in at night.

"Yes, Luke is a good man," she said. "I met him much the same way you met Will—on a wagon train west. My family was headed for Denver. I just couldn't bring myself to let Luke go on alone when we reached Julesberg. I had to make a decision, and I know it was the right one." She set Nathan down, and he toddled off to explore the cabin. "Luke wrote out a paper for me back at Fort Laramie, where we married. He put it in writing that he has legally adopted Nathan, giving him full rights to anything Luke owns. He even had it witnessed. He wanted it as legal as possible, considering there are no judges out here for such things. I told him it wasn't necessary to put it in writing, but he insisted, not just for me, but for Nathan's sake in future years. Nathan already looks to him like a father."

"And what a fine-looking little boy! Look at that blond hair! Oh, you're so lucky, Mrs. Fontaine." Lettie felt sorry for her, realized she must be longing for the child she'd never had. Henrietta watched Nathan a moment, then took a deep breath, as though to shake off bad memories of her own. "I don't know why these men can't choose to settle in civilized places," she said then, as though to change the subject deliberately. "They have their big dreams of getting rich by claiming all this land for themselves, but the price many of them pay makes me wonder if it's worth it." She turned to take some cups down from where they hung under a shelf of dishes.

The words worried Lettie, and this time it was she who changed the subject. "You have a wonderful home here," she spoke up, looking around the spacious main room. A huge stone fireplace graced one wall, and there were many shelves for pans and dishes built into another, as well as a counter-top for the dishpan and water buckets. Braided rugs were scattered on the clean, hardwood floor and curtains hung at the windows. Although the pine table and chairs in the center of the room were hand-made, they were very well built and varnished to a shine. She noticed a curtained doorway at the back wall, which she supposed led to a separate bedroom, something that would be a luxury for her right now. Lettie longed for just such a home.

"Well, thank you, but it wasn't always this way." Henrietta set the cups on the table, then took down some plates.

"I do hope you intend to stay for supper. I'll have it ready soon." She set the plates on the table, then took a moment to admire Lettie's startling beauty as she removed her hat and coat. She ached at the thought of the hardships that lay ahead for the young woman. She could tell by Lettie's lovely green velvet dress that she was accustomed to a far different way of life. She wondered how long it would take the poor girl to start wondering if she had made a grave mistake. "In fact, you should stay the night."

"Oh, we couldn't do that. We're going back to Billings. We'll stay the night there and head home in the morning."

Henrietta self-consciously smoothed her own simple calico dress, then pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. It had fallen from the clumsy knot into which she had twisted her hair that morning. She walked over to the fireplace to stir a pot of stew that hung over the flames. "Nonsense. If you're going to stay in town, then you might as well stay here with us. You'll have company, and Luke can talk half the night to Will, learn a few things he'll need to know for the long winter ahead. My goodness, it isn't often we get company. It will be the same for you. Take advantage of the moment, Mrs. Fontaine. That's what you have to do in these parts." The woman picked up a hot pad and wrapped it around the handle of a big tin coffeepot. She carried the pot over to the table.

"Well, it's up to Luke," Lettie answered. "And please call me Lettie. My real name is Eletta, but Lettie is easier."

Henrietta smiled. "Well, most call me Henny, same reason. You can do the same." She poured coffee into two cups. "You do drink coffee, don't you? Would you rather have tea?"

"Coffee is fine."

Nathan let out a little scream, then a giggle, shoving his stuffed horse into his mother's lap as he ran past her, chasing a cat. Henrietta laughed. "That's Patch. The dog outside is called Bear. With no children, I have to have my pets for company, or go mad. Be glad you have your son, Lettie, and that you'll probably have more. That's good. Out here a woman needs children to keep her occupied and give her someone to talk to."

Before Lettie could reply, both men came inside, their big frames seeming to fill the room. Just then Nathan caught Patch's tail and the cat let out a screech. Frightened, Nathan ran to Luke, who picked him up with a laugh.

"You'd better stay away from that cat," he told the boy.

"Bad kee-kee." Nathan pouted.

"Well, it's also bad to chase the poor kitty all over the room, young man," Luke scolded gently. He patted Nathan's bottom before setting him down again so he could remove his own coat. Nathan went to his mother, climbing onto her lap and hugging his stuffed horse close.

"Looks like Indians already paid Luke here a visit," Will told his wife, pulling out a chair. "Have a seat, Luke. You two will stay for supper and spend the night here—no arguments."

Luke looked at Lettie questioningly. She shrugged. "Henny already insisted. It's up to you."

"If you're going to stay in town, you might as well stay here," Will's wife put in, repeating what she had just told Lettie. "We won't take no for an answer, and it might be a long time before your poor wife gets to visit again. You never know when a snowstorm will hit and keep you buried for months."

Luke grinned. "All right. If you insist."

"What's this about Indians?" Henny asked Will.

"Luke got his horse stole the first night he settled in."

"My only horse," Luke added. "I came to Billings to see about getting a couple more. I need a horse when I go out hunting. Someone in town told me I could buy horses from Will."

"That you can," Henrietta answered. "We're in the horse trading business. Will is also a blacksmith, a scout, a gunsmith, and a farmer. You name it, Will can do it."

They all chuckled, but Lettie had not missed the worry in Henrietta's eyes when she'd asked about Indians. "Well, I hope it wasn't ol' Half Nose that visited you. He's a mean one," Henny said then, her smile fading.

"It could have been him," Will spoke up. "It would be just like him to steal one horse like that, just to tease you— let you know he's around but choosin' his own time to give you trouble. It's likely that whoever it was, they've headed south now to their winter camping grounds. You won't have any more trouble till spring." He frowned, leaning closer to Luke and resting his elbows on the table. "You start gathering many horses and cattle, you'd better get some help out there—hire you a couple of men to help watch over things. It's not safe you being out there alone with a wife and kid come spring. There's outlaws to worry about, too."

Luke nodded. "I'll keep that in mind. I've gotten pretty damn good with my guns, if I must say so myself, and I'm teaching Lettie to shoot."

"Just the same, you get some help. I might mosey over that way myself come spring, see if there's anything I can do. You're determined to stay put then, are you?"

Luke glanced at Lettie. God, how he loved her, but even that love could not keep him from doing what he knew he had to do to realize his dream. He knew deep in his gut that someday this was all going to pay off big. He looked back at Will. "I am. I've already given David Taylor a general description of what I'm claiming. In the spring, once all the snow is gone and I don't have to be so concerned about getting in meat and wood, I'll ride the perimeter, stake my boundaries, write down a better description of landmarks and so forth."

"Well, technically, under the Homestead Act, you're only supposed to claim a hundred and sixty acres," Will told him in a rich, gruff voice. He winked then. "But Taylor can be convinced to stretch that some. I'll be glad to let you stake out another hundred and sixty in my name, another section in Henny's name. You can even claim more in your wife's maiden name." He grinned. "There's ways of gettin' around the law out here, Luke. You remember that. Me, I'm too old to worry about gettin' really big. I'm happy with the five hundred acres I've got. But from what you've told me about your plans for raisin' cattle, you'll need a lot more than that. I'll help you get it however I can. I'm just glad to see new people come in. A man can build an empire up here, if he's smart and willin' to work hard and put up with the danger and hardships." The man glanced at Lettie. "It can be real hard on a woman, though, sometimes harder than on the man."

"I can already see that, Will," Lettie answered the man. She looked at Luke, saw the apology in his eyes. "Someday we'll be glad for what we put up with in the beginning." She looked back at Will. "If Luke says he'll be a rich man someday and I'll have a fine home, I believe him."

Will grinned again, looking back at Luke. "You've got one hell of a woman there, Luke, brave, and pretty to boot. She's already given you one son, and if she can give you more, that's just all the more free help you'll have down the road. Have as many kids as you can. I guess I would have tried harder to build my place into somethin' bigger if I had kids to inherit it, but it's just me and Henny, so we don't need much more."

Lettie noticed the fallen look on Henrietta's face, and her heart went out to the woman. She was sure Will didn't mean for his remark to hurt, but how could it not? Nathan squirmed to get down, and he clung to the horse as he pointed to Patch with a scowl. He watched the cat carefully, staying close to his mother.

"I'll say one thing," the man continued, "a man couldn't ask for a better woman than my Henny, or a better cook. How's that stew comin', Henny?"

"It will be ready in a few minutes." The woman poured Luke and Will a cup of coffee.

Will leaned back in his chair, rubbing at his beard. "Now, as far as the Indians, you're better off lettin' them take a horse or two once in a while than to try to fight them," he warned Luke. "I know that sounds ridiculous, but for the trouble they can cause, it's worth losin' a few horses now and then. They're still pretty free up here, and until the war is over and the army can concentrate on helping people like us, we're on our own in land the Sioux figure is theirs by right. You rile somebody like Half Nose, and you've got big trouble."

"I'll keep that in mind," Luke answered. "But I'm not going to just sit and watch from the front porch while they pick and choose through my herds at will."

Lettie fought her horror at the thought of Indians. The morning they discovered Red was gone, the moccasin tracks in the snow had told them what had happened. That Indians had been so close by without their even knowing it had made Lettie sick with fear. She was sure Luke had felt the same fear, but he was determined not to show it, and his anger at being "taken" had far outweighed any fear he'd felt.

"Takes a special kind of dealin' to get along with the Sioux," Will was saying.

Lettie offered to help Henny serve the stew, but the woman refused. "I enjoy having the company," she insisted. "You've got your work cut out for you the next few weeks. When you get a chance to relax, enjoy it."

Lettie took heart from the visit. If she could have something at least as decent as this warm log house, she would be happy. Maybe some day she and Luke would have closer neighbors, women with whom she could visit, make quilts, talk about children.

For the rest of the evening the men talked about horses and cattle and the future of Montana; the women talked about dress styles back East, the fine china Henny had been given by her mother when she was left at Fort Laramie to marry Will. She had managed to preserve and protect the precious dishes. "Broke only one plate and one cup over all the years and all the traveling," she bragged. Her father had never found gold, but he and the rest of her family had settled in California. Henny had never seen them again, a thought that brought pain to Lettie's heart.

It was nearly dark when Will and Luke went out to look at some of Will's horses. Lettie helped Henny clean up. Nathan had taken to chasing the "kee-kee" again, and by dark, both boy and cat were worn out. In desperation the cat had taken refuge on top of the fireplace mantle. Nathan climbed back into Lettie's lap, where he fell asleep, clutching his horse.

Henny laid out a feather mattress near the fireplace.

"You and Luke will have to share this mattress with the boy tonight. It's all we've got. I think you'll be comfortable enough."

Lettie smiled. "It can't be any worse than what we sleep on now," she answered. "Just a feather mattress covered with a bearskin rug and several blankets. The cabin is so cold. It's nothing more than a bunch of flat boards nailed to supports, with cracks in between. We have to keep the iron heating stove practically red hot to stay warm. That's why Luke bought the tar paper. He's having a supplier in Billings bring out some bales of hay. He'll stack them around the outside of the cabin to help insulate it against the winter winds. Next spring we'll build a decent log house like this one." She got up from the rocker where she sat and laid Nathan on the feather bed. She covered him, then bent over to kiss his chubby cheek. "It's Nathan I worry about—either getting sick from a draft or burning himself on the iron stove."

Henny sat down in a rocker near the fire. "Just be glad you've got a young one to be worried about. The good Lord chose not to bless me with a child. I guess ours is not to question his decisions."

Lettie joined Henny before the fire. "I'm sorry, Henny."

The woman smiled sadly. "Don't be. It certainly isn't your fault. I hope you have many children, Lettie, and that you'll let me help you however I can when they come. In this land you need good friendships." She glanced at the doorway at the sound of her husband's bellowing laughter. He was just outside smoking with Luke. "And you need a good, strong man who loves you no matter what. That's what I have in Will. If I didn't love him so, I'd have gone crazy up here." She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "You've got to be very strong, Lettie. And if you really love your man, you'll let him live his dream and not try to stop him. Sometimes that means giving up some dreams of your own, but Luke is young and determined. I think someday he'll make a good life for you, if you can survive these first few years. And if you're real clever about it, you can finagle a man into doing anything you want him to do for you. Luke certainly loves you and the boy. Anyone can see that." Her kind brown eyes glittered with good wishes, but they also showed concern. "I hope the best for both of you. I can see you aren't used to this kind of life, but Luke has said it will get better, and it will. You just have to hang on. A man's success depends a lot on his woman, you know."

Lettie felt tears threatening. Sometimes she wanted to scream and weep, wondering how she was going to get through even one winter here, so far from family and the comforts of home. "Luke's love is the only thing that keeps me going. There is something he needs to prove to himself and to his father, and I want to help him do it. At the same time—" She stared into the flickering flames in the fireplace. "I'm grateful that he loves me, especially for how he loves Nathan. It isn't easy for a man to take so well to another man's son." Especially when he's the product of rape. No, she would not mention that. That was behind her now. Luke had come here to start a new life, and so had she. He had shown her how good it can be between a man and a woman. She had to forget the ugliness of the past, for Nathan's sake as well as her own.

"Oh, but the boy is so sweet and obedient."

"Not always." Lettie smiled. "We met when Nathan ran away from me and nearly got trampled by a couple of horses. Luke saved him. Nathan is so energetic, and since he learned to walk, he's taking full advantage."

Henny laughed. "Well, he's all boy, that's for sure. He'll be a big help to Luke someday."

"Yes, I suppose."

Henny leaned back in her rocker, and to Lettie's surprise she picked up a pipe, stuffed it and lit it. Lettie had assumed the pipe on the stand beside the rocker was Will's. The woman puffed the pipe for a few seconds, then glanced at Lettie, noticing the shock in her eyes. She grinned. "Honey, don't be surprised at anything you see up here. A woman gets lonely, she looks for things to sooth her. Me, I like to smoke a pipe. I figured you might as well know it.

Lord knows a woman can fast forget her femininity up here." She winked. "But you, you're too pretty for that. Maybe you'll bring some class to Billings and its surroundings. You buy yourself plenty of those fancy creams to keep that face from being ruined by the wind and sun. Wear a bonnet with a good wide brim on it in summer, and always be a woman. Did you go to school?"

Lettie finally managed to find her voice. "I... yes. I had ten years of schooling."

"Well, that's more than most folks in these parts." The woman pointed the stem of the pipe at her. "I predict that someday Mrs. Lettie Fontaine will be the first lady of Billings. We need more women like you here. We need schools and churches and all those things. Women like you will help see that we get them. Stick to your guns, Lettie. Be stronger than the land and the elements. Don't let them conquer you. You conquer them."

Lettie was still recovering from the sight of a woman smoking a pipe. "I'll try," she replied faintly.

The men came inside then, and all four of them talked well into the night. Bear was allowed inside, and the big dog curled up in front of the hearth. Will stoked up the fire before he retired with Henny. Then Luke and Lettie snuggled into the feather mattress without undressing, except for removing their boots. Lettie pulled Nathan close, and the cat he had chased all afternoon and evening quietly jumped into Henny's rocker and went to sleep on the padded seat.

Lettie pressed her back against Luke's chest, and he wrapped his arms around her.

"Can we have a cabin like this next spring?" she asked.

"It will be better than this."

"I think they'll be good friends, Luke. Did you know Henny smokes a pipe?" she whispered.

"I saw her when I came in." He kissed her hair. "You won't take to smoking pipes, will you? I'd rather you didn't."

Lettie laughed quietly. "I don't think you have to worry about that."

"This might be your last visit for quite a while, Lettie. I'm sorry."

Grasping his hand, Lettie said, "Henny says a man's success depends on his woman. I want to help you, Luke, and I hope I can give you lots of children to also help; but I also want to teach them to read and write. If a preacher ever comes to Billings and we have a church, I want the children to go. I want them to know about the finer things in life."

"Someday they'll have the finer things. We'll bring in a professional tutor. We'll have a ranch so big that I'll have help living right there, with their own families. We'll need our own school. Will thinks my idea of building a cattle ranch is a good one. He agrees there will be a big demand for beef after the war, and once the railroad is completed, it will be a bonanza for men who get a head start. God knows there's plenty of grass here for grazing big herds. Next spring I'm going to see about running down some wild horses, and it's possible I can get some beef at good prices out of Oregon. There is always a market for good horses, and the beef market is growing."

It was obvious Luke Fontaine was already deeply entrenched in the new land and new way of life. There was no going back now. The reality of that fact hit Lettie harder every day. She thought about St. Joseph, about her family, the friends left behind, the companionship of her mother and sister. That was all gone now. Her only friend since arriving here was a hardened, pipe-smoking woman who lived too far away to visit very often. Luke would have to be not only a provider, protector, and lover, he would also have to be her friend. There was no one else. Sometimes she felt so close to him, yet she realized they still hardly knew each other at all, in spite of their intimacy. "I love you, Luke."

He kissed her ear. "And I love you," he whispered.

Outside the wolves began their nightly calling, and Bear raised his head, whining softly, his tail wagging. Lettie watched his eyes, a bright orange in the glow of the firelight, and it seemed the wildness she saw there could also be found in Luke, a yearning to be master of their territory, to answer to no one. There had been a look in his eyes the morning he'd found Red missing. Already he was thinking of the little cabin and the surrounding valley and foothills as "his land." With no law out there, a man had to do his own defending and set his own rules, and that frightened her, but she was not going to let him know. Nor was she going to tell him yet that she suspected she was already pregnant.

"Don't let the land change you," she said softly.

She got no reply. His deep, steady breathing told her he was asleep.