The two who had dismounted stooped down and leaned closer. Luke blinked, trying to focus. He was sure one of them had light hair and blue eyes. Damn the sun, and damn his pain! It was so hard to see. They said something in the Sioux tongue, looked him over. The one with the light hair pointed to the other dead bodies. Luke licked his lips, trying to speak.
"Nathan," he whispered, but the one with the light hair either did not hear him or simply did not respond to the name. He tried to speak it again, but the word stuck in his throat because of his miserably dry mouth. He started to cough, and the light-haired one knelt near him again. Luke wasn't sure what he was doing until he saw the canteen. The young man poured some water over his face and into his mouth, then corked the canteen and left it.
Luke blinked more, struggling to see better, to talk.
From what he could determine, the warriors were wary of what they had found, probably didn't want to get mixed up in what was apparently white man's business. Another came riding in, shouting something at the others, and quickly they all remounted and rode off at a gallop. Minutes later Luke heard more horses.
"There he is!" someone shouted. He recognized Runner's voice.
"Jesus, I hope he's still alive."
That one was Tex.
Someone knelt over him, another Indian. This time it was Runner. "He's still alive."
"Mrs. Fontaine will be glad to hear that," Tex said.
So, Lettie was all right, thank God. Everything became a blur then. He wanted to ask them about the Indians. Hadn't they seen them riding away? Had it all been a dream or some kind of hallucination after all? No one said anything about them. Someone picked him up to place him on a makeshift travois, and it was then the pain hit him full force. Who was that screaming? It sounded like someone far away.
"Watch his leg," Tex was saying. "Jesus, I never saw something that looked that bad. We'd better wrap it some more. I can't believe he's still alive."
Billy Sacks spoke up. "Takes a lot to kill somebody like Luke. What about these other bodies, Tex?"
"You and Runner go back and bury Ben first, and get the gear off the dead horses and bury them, too. Leave the goddamn buffalo hunters for last, if the buzzards pick at them, so be it. I'll start back with Luke and send you some help in burying them soon as I get back."
Luke felt someone wrapping his leg, then felt himself being tied to something. Someone else put a blanket over him. He wanted to thank them, and he wanted to ask them about the Indians. Surely if one of them had light hair, the men would notice. He tried to ask, but every time he opened his mouth, he could do nothing but groan. He felt the travois begin to move then, and he cried out with pain at every jolt and bounce. The way home was going to be a miserable trip, but there was no other way to get him there.
Thank God Lettie was okay. He'd be home soon. He could hang on now, for Lettie and the kids. His leg would mend in no time, and everything would be back to normal, except that every time he closed his eyes he remembered being carried another time, on a stretcher, to a medical tent. He remembered the smell of blood, the blood on the doctor's apron. He remembered the ugly saw and how it felt when he realized the doctor was thinking about cutting off his leg. He thought about the Indians, and suddenly the vision of them was blurred by another vision, soldiers bending over him, blue uniforms, the hideous saw.
"Don't let them... take off my leg," he finally managed to mutter, but no one heard.
In the distance, from a thick clump of trees where they hid, the band of young Indian boys watched the white men pick up the wounded one. The one called White Bear had considered taking the wounded one's scalp, but something had stopped him. When the man had looked at him, his eyes were the bluest he had ever seen, blue like his own. That fascinated him, and there was something familiar about the man, but he wasn't quite sure what it was that stirred this wonder in his soul. He would tell his father, Half Nose, about what had happened today, about finding the white man badly wounded, other dead white men around him. The dead ones were the evil buffalo hunters they had seen other times. It was good that they were dead. But something told him that the wounded one was different. He was not evil like the buffalo hunters, and the way the man had looked at him... it gave him a strange feeling.
For ten days Lettie suffered the worst nightmare she had known since settling in Montana, worse even than when she nursed Luke after the bear attack. Then, infection had certainly been dangerous, but it had not run deep into Luke's body the way this one had; and there had not been the awful pain of a badly broken thigh bone, an operation to try to mend it, the threat that he might never regain full use of his right leg... if he lived at all.
In spite of her own cuts and bruises and what the doctor believed were two bruised ribs, Lettie refused to take to a bed herself. Never would she forget the sight of Luke's leg once she and Dr. Manning had cut away his denim pants and his long johns. Lettie thought she had seen the worst, but she had nearly passed out. By now she had grown accustomed to looking at the terrible wound, for every day, several times a day, she had to clean and rewrap it. Every day she watched her husband lie semiconscious, racked with pain, hovering on the brink of death from infection. Never would she forget how he looked when the men first brought him back, and at first she had thought he was already dead. Tex had complained about having to send men to "bury the sons of bitches" who had hurt Luke and had killed two of the Double L's best horses. "I broke that beautiful black myself," he lamented. "If it wasn't for their dead bodies attracting wolves that might later go after the cattle, I'd have left them there for buzzard feed."
In this case, Lettie had to agree. They had shot Luke down in cold blood, no warning, as though he were a coyote. She knew what they would have done to her if Luke had not used his last bit of strength and willpower to shoot those who came after her.
The last two days had been better for Luke. The infection finally seemed to be abating. She tied off a clean bandage, then noticed he was watching her quietly, his blue eyes sunken in a thinner face. She gave him a smile and moved around to the other side of the bed to sit down on the edge of it. She took his hand. "Is the pain any better today?"
"A little." Such a weak voice for such a big man. "I'm sorry, Lettie."
"For what?"
He closed his eyes. "I don't know. Everything you've had to go through since we moved here, I guess. That night... when you walked off to get help... I thought maybe I'd never see you again. Either I'd die... or you would.
Now here I am laid up for what the doc says could be months, and there's this big ranch to run—"
"You have plenty of men who know how to run it and who care about you enough to do it right. You can help me learn how to do the paperwork. I intend to take a bigger part in running the Double L, Luke. I think it's important. If anything ever did happen to you, I don't intend to be left helpless and in the dark. I realized that when I was trying to find my way home that night. I want to ride out once in a while with the men, get more familiar with the landmarks and just how big this place is. I want to get involved in the book work. That's something I can always help with, even after you're well. You're too busy to have to spend hours with a ledger. I want to learn more about horses and cattle, the different kinds, the diseases they can get, the proper feed. I want to see all the grazing land, which fields you reserve for hard times, which ones have the best water. I want to learn all of it, Luke."
"A woman belongs at home with her children."
"I'll find a way to do both. Once you're well, I will be home with them. All I'll have to worry about is the book work." She raised her chin. "Besides, you don't think I'd let the Double L go to waste just because you're sick, or died, do you?"
He squeezed her hand. "If I die, you should go to Denver.
She leaned over and stroked his thick, dark hair away from his forehead. "Never. This place was your dream in the beginning, Luke; but after all I've been through to stay here, it's my dream now, too. And because I love you so
much, I would never let go of what you've built here. I don't want you to worry about any of it. I just want you to get well."
He moved his hand to rub it over her lap. God, how he hated being laid up like this. Who was going to take care of things? His biggest fear was that the Double L would go to hell while he was incapacitated. He had worked so hard to get this far. Wouldn't his father just love it if he failed now, after coming this far? "Lettie, there's so much to do to get ready for winter. And there's that Cattlemen's Association meeting in Billings in just a couple more days—"
"The Double L will be represented, by me. I'm going to the meeting. I'll take the children and let them stay at Henny's. It will be an adventure for them. While I'm in town, I intend to see about getting more books for teaching the children to read, and I'll look into the price of feed for you, so we can determine how much it will cost to stock up in case of an extra hard winter. You just make a list for me— all the things you want me to bring up at the meeting, as well as a list of supplies you want me to bring back from Billings."
Luke grinned sadly. "You'll miss your sewing club meeting."
"That will have to wait. The other wives will understand."
Luke studied her lovingly. "They won't like having a woman at the cattlemen's meeting."
She straightened and sniffed. "That's just too bad. There are two L's in the Double L. One of them stands for Lettie Fontaine, which gives me every right to be there."
Luke squeezed her thigh. "You sure you're well enough yourself to go?"
"My ribs were just bruised, not broken. I'm not in much pain anymore. I'll be well enough to go." She leaned down to kiss the back of his hand. "There's no reason why I can't stand in for you, make some of the decisions, do the book work, all of that. I promise I would keep the Double L alive if something ever did happen to you." Tears formed in her eyes. "But nothing in this life would ever be the same without you. I just thank God you lived and the fever finally broke." She took a deep breath. "Dr. Manning will be out tomorrow to put a splint and permanent wrapping on your leg. He had to wait until the swelling went down and the infection was gone. He said in another week or so you'll have to start flexing it, using it little by little, or the muscles will draw up and begin to die. For a while there, he thought you might lose your leg altogether."
Luke pulled his hand away. "I'd rather be dead. I went through that threat in the war. Don't you ever let him take my leg off, Lettie, you hear? If you love me, you won't let him do that."
She leaned over him, bending down to kiss his cheek. "I won't let him."
Luke closed his eyes, sighing deeply. "I feel like a failure."
"Don't be ridiculous. The Double L is the biggest ranch around here, and doing well. Besides that, you've fathered five beautiful children. You're a successful rancher, a good father, and a good husband, Luke Fontaine. Don't ever call yourself a failure."
He studied her, so pretty today, her hair pulled into a pile of twists and curls, her green eyes as fetching as ever. She could have died so easily that day, been raped, shot down. "I should have known they were there. If I had been more alert, Ben wouldn't be dead, and I wouldn't be lying in this bed, my two best horses killed, my wife going through a night of hell and then having to tend to me this way."
"Luke, no one could have known those men were there. For heaven's sake, look at the things you've been through and survived—those outlaws, Indian attack, bear attack, all the hell you've been through on the cattle drives, the terrible winters you've suffered having to work out-of-doors. As badly hurt as you were, you managed to shoot down those buffalo hunters. You're a brave, skilled man. I don't want you to worry now about being in this bed. You stay here for as long as it takes for your leg to heal right. Better to be laid up a little longer than to be a cripple. You have to be able to walk and to get back up on a horse under your own power if you're going to get back to running the Double L. In the meantime, I'll do it. A wife isn't just for giving a man babies and cooking his meals, at least not this wife."
He grinned, wanting her; but it would be a long time before he could be a husband to her again in every way. He was proud of how well she had taken all of this, of the way she had managed to find help that night, her bravery and determination. He wondered if he should tell her about what he had seen while lying out there waiting for help.
No. Why give her false hope after all these years? He had been in such terrible agony that morning, lying there close to death, that what he saw could very well have been some kind of dream due to his pain and loss of blood. Maybe it was just something his mind had conjured up, wishful thinking that had taken the form of realistic visions. Even if he had seen Nathan, the boy was a wild thing now and could probably never be found if a person tried; nor would he want to live like a white man now. What he had seen was an Indian, in spite of the light hair and blue eyes, as wild and untamed as the worst of the Sioux renegades. Why should he reawaken all that old pain for Lettie, make her suffer the thought of her son growing up among the Sioux, never seeing his mother again?
As long as he had been so lost in pain and not even fully conscious, how could he claim he had truly seen the boy? Hadn't he heard that even the one called Crazy Horse had light-colored hair? Maybe that was who he had seen, except this one seemed much younger than Crazy Horse would be. Even if it was Nathan, the young man he had seen was a far cry from the innocent little four-year-old who had been stolen away seven years ago.
"Get some paper and a pen," he told her aloud. "You might as well start writing down the things I want discussed at that meeting." He grinned. "Those men are going to get the starch... jerked out of their shirts when they see you walk in. I have a feeling you'll be able to stand right up to the best of them." He took her hand again. "Come to think of it, they'll be so struck by how pretty you are... they'll probably just sit there with their mouths open and let you talk all you want."
Lettie stood up and straightened his blankets. "They'll listen to me and respect me because I am Luke Fontaine's wife. You don't think any of them would dare insult you by ignoring your wife or by trying to say she can't attend that meeting, do you? I don't think you realize your own importance, Luke." She looked down at him, her hands on her hips. "I promise to do a good job of representing the Double L."
She walked out of the room to get the paper, and Luke watched her, still smiling. "I'll just bet you will, Mrs. Fontaine," he said softly.
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 wh
at 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."
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