Wildest Dreams

by Rosanne Bittner

  Luke turned away and headed back inside, rubbing at a sore right hand, and flexing it. He wiped his bloody knuckles on his pants, then took a deep breath and reentered the cattlemen's hall to get his hat.

  "Everything all right, Luke?" Joe Parker asked him.

  Luke's blue eyes glittered with satisfaction. "Everything is just fine. Just keep that reporter away from the back alley."

  Joe grinned. "There ain't nobody dead back there, is there?"

  Luke donned his hat. "No. But he's probably wishing he was." He walked outside and mounted his horse, heading for Will and Henny's place.

  Lettie bent down to lay some daisies over Henny's grave. A bird sang in a nearby bush, as though to thank her. She remembered how Henny had loved to sit and watch the birds, how she laughed when her cats would chase them. Three of those cats lay about the gravesite now, following their mistress from the familiar log cabin to the graveyard in town, still wanting to crawl into her lap.

  Forty-four. The woman had only been forty-four, but had looked like a shriveled little woman of seventy when she was laid out for visitors. In this land you need solid friendships. She remembered Henny telling her those words when they first met. How true they were. And you need a good, strong man who loves you, no matter what... and if you really love your man, you'll let him live his dream and not try to stop him.

  She rose, a soft wind blowing her gray dress. Her sadness was not just for the loss of a friend, but the knowledge that years from now, there would be no one left to mourn this woman's passing. Henny had lost track of her family, who had never bothered to come back and try to find her, visit her. There were no children to carry on the name and the memory. How sad that a person could be so treasured one day, and forgotten the next. Someday Montana would be a state, she had no doubt. How many of its future citizens would ever know or care about Henrietta Doolan, one of the true pioneers?

  She swallowed against more tears, her throat hurting fiercely. She vowed then and there that she would begin keeping a record of people like Will and Henrietta, that she would form some kind of historical society that would preserve Montana's precious past, in books, perhaps even museums. Little Paul would be part of those records, one of the children who lost his life because of living so remote from help. And there was Ben Garvey, who had lost his life against outlaw buffalo hunters; and Nathan, the "white Indian" who was like a ghost to her now.

  She felt older today, the reality of death visiting her again. But the nearby birdsong reminded her that life went on, and the thought of Katie, Tyler, Pearl, and Robbie were examples of that. The incident with Nial had brought Ty and her closer. Now there was one last fence to be mended. Henny's death brought home that she had no one to turn to now but Luke. The woman's last words to her had been that she should be a wife again.

  Tears trickled down her face. She brushed gently at the still-fresh earth mounded over the grave. The service two days ago had been touching, the reverend speaking just the right words for a woman like Henny. Half the town had been there, for half the town owed Henny something in one way or another. Lettie had insisted that the woman's pipe be buried with her, and one of Will's buckskin jackets, so she would have something of his to keep her warm, something that carried her husband's scent. It seemed only right. "Lettie?"

  The voice startled her. She turned and rose, her heart suddenly pounding, and everything she had planned to say and do when she saw her husband again left her. She just stood there, not sure what was right and what was wrong, until he held out his arms. "Luke!" She ran to him, and in the next moment she was lost in his embrace, relishing the feel of his powerful arms, weeping his name as she rested her head on the shoulder that had always been strong for her. Her feet were off the ground as he held her close, and he whispered her name several times over.

  "I knew I'd find you here," he said, finally setting her on her feet. "I heard about Henny back at the ranch, came straight to town. I never even stopped to clean up. I'm dirty and—"

  "It doesn't matter," she answered, still clinging to him. "Nothing matters but that you're here. I was afraid something would happen to you, and we'd never get the chance to see each other again. Oh, Luke, we have so much to talk about."

  Luke held her away from him so that he could look at her face. Something had changed. This was not the Lettie he had left behind. He had figured that telling her the things he needed to tell her might be impossible, that she would still be the silent, withdrawn woman he'd been unable to reach for so long. It was just too bad they had to face this first, the loss of their best friends. He had feared Henny's death would plunge his wife deeper into despair and silence, but the way she touched him, the way she looked at him...

  "Luke, what happened? Your face!" She reached up to touch the several red scabs left from being sprayed with rock.

  "I'm all right. A bullet broke some rock I was standing behind and the pieces hit me in the face."

  A bullet! She could have lost him! Being here in his arms made her feel like a young girl again, the girl who had followed her new husband to Montana. "Did you get the rustlers?"

  He closed his eyes. "I'll tell you about it later. It wasn't very pretty." He squeezed her arms. "Lettie, Will is dead, too."

  Her eyes widened in dismay. "No!"

  Luke nodded. "Shot by one of the rustlers. He's the only one who got hit." He glanced at Henny's grave. "It's almost like God knew he wouldn't want to go on without Henny, and she couldn't have gone on without Will, so He took them both."

  Thunder rolled in the distance, and dark clouds loomed on the horizon. "They should be buried beside each other," Lettie said sadly, resting her head against his chest.

  "I wanted to bring him back, but we were too far out, and in this heat it would have been impossible. They're together now, though. It doesn't matter where they're buried, Lettie. Neither one of them is in their grave."

  She wept quietly. "Thank God you're back. I have so much to tell you, Luke."

  He sighed deeply. "I have a lot to tell you also. I want to take you away alone, Lettie, maybe out to the northern line camp. It will be safer this time. I'm taking several men along to repair a windmill at one of the watering holes. They'll camp in the valley below the cabin, so they'll be close by, and we won't have to worry about something happening like the last time we went off alone."

  "That was five years ago," she said softly. "We never did go off to be alone after that."

  "That's where we went wrong. From now on, once a year, no matter what is happening, we're going to find time for us, just us. I won't let work at the ranch or the children get in the way. I have to take care of some things here in town that I know Will would have wanted me to do for him, and I want to spend some time with Katie and Pearl and Robbie. Then we'll leave."

  She looked up at him, the thought of him being with Annie Gates stirring her desire to be a wife to him again. She would never again give him reason to go to a woman like that. "I have so much to tell you."

  He closed his eyes and leaned down to kiss her hair. "And I have a lot to tell you. For now just believe that I love you, Lettie, and I'm sorry I allowed us to drift so far apart."

  "It was mostly my fault. I never should have blamed—"

  He put his fingers to her lips. "Not now." Thunder cracked through the heavens, now overhead. "We'd better get to Will's place. He probably has some papers of some kind that shows what he wants done with his ranch. I'm not sure. I just figured I'd look into it for him, talk to that lawyer, Syd Greene, make sure things are done properly."

  "Yes, Will would want that." She studied the blue eyes that were not so cold now. "I love you, Luke." The tears came again. "I never stopped."

  He leaned down and met her lips lightly, and she relished the taste of his mouth on hers again, a warm, sweet kiss that told of something much more wonderful to come. "I love you, too," he whispered. He put an arm around her and led her away from the grave, and rain began to sprinkle the fresh earth. The cats at the grave
curled up against the stone, seemingly unaffected by the weather. It was warm there, near their mistress.

  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 com
e 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—"