Nial looked him over. "I am aware of that, Luke. Let me tell you, I have only the greatest respect for you and your wife. It's true I... I have allowed myself to become somewhat infatuated, but I would never think of... well, I do apologize for the misunderstanding."
"I don't think there was any misunderstanding at all. I think I understand your feelings and motives perfectly! From now on, keep it all to yourself."
Nial nodded. "I lost my own wife six years ago. I've been a very lonely man, especially after leaving England. I have apparently let that loneliness cause me to behave unwisely. Please, I do want to remain friendly neighbors, and continue to do business together."
Luke nodded. "Fine with me, as long as you leave Lettie out of the picture. From now on I'll be at the cattlemen's meetings, and I'm the one you'll talk to when you come to the Double L. And at occasions like this one, you'll not pay any particular attention to Lettie. I won't warn you a second time. I'll just light into you, and we'll see how far your money and fancy ways get you in a flat-out brawl—no swords, no guns, just fists. I don't really think you want that."
Nial stood nearly as tall as Luke, but he knew he was no match for the man's brawn and ruggedness, let alone the fact that Luke would be defending the woman he loved, the mother of his children. That was enough fuel to fire any man into a bloody match he'd be determined to win. "No. I don't think I do."
Luke nodded. "I'm sorry about your own loss, Bentley, but that doesn't give a man a right to move in on another man's wife." He turned and left, and Tex, Will, and Billy all eyed Nial a moment longer before following.
Nial breathed deeply, brushed at the spot of dirt Luke's crutch had left on the front of his shirt. He suspected he had got off lightly, and he sighed in frustration. So be it. It didn't do a man any good to go up against someone like Luke Fontaine, not even the son of an English earl. Out here that meant nothing. Out here it was the man with the most experience, the most brawn, and the most land who got all the respect. Before he could get back inside, the two prostitutes who had been flirting suggestively with him all evening came out to meet him, hanging on him and suggesting he go with them to the Lonesome Tree.
"Why not?" he answered, walking off with them. Maybe spending a night with both voluptuous ladies would help get Lettie Fontaine out of his system, but he knew deep inside that the only woman who could satisfy him was Lettie herself.
"I Have To tell you, Lettie, this summer we're cutting down any barbed wire we come across." Luke led her inside the hotel and to their room. "We're starting to see more and more of it, mostly put up by farmers."
"There will be trouble, Luke. I don't want to see you get hurt again, nor do I want to see any innocent farmers get hurt."
"Don't worry. I'm thinking of ways to compromise without bloodshed."
They went inside, and Lettie closed and locked the door. "I'd like to go out on roundup with you this year, watch the branding, help count the new calves," she told him.
Luke removed his hat. "It's dirty work. You've already done enough while I've been laid up. It's time you got back to being the woman of the Double L, spending more time with the children."
"I will, right after spring roundup. We can take Tyler with us. He would be thrilled. He's so anxious to start learning." Lettie took the pins from her hat. "It's one thing I haven't done yet, Luke. In all the years we've been here, I've never ridden out to help with roundup, watched the branding, how you determine which cattle will be shipped to market and which will remain to build the herd. I want to know everything about it. I've told you that before. And, by the way, I don't think you should go on the cattle drive this summer. You have men who can handle it for you."
"I'll manage. I'm not sending twenty-five hundred of my best steers off without being along to make sure they get where they're going. Problems with rustlers are getting worse, and lately there's been more trouble with other landowners allowing cattle to cross their land. Now we've got barbed wire to worry about." He walked closer to her and set one crutch aside.
"Luke, I worry—"
He pulled her close. "You won't have time to miss me or worry about me this summer. I'm starting that house for you. That's your summer project while I'm gone."
She frowned. "We can't afford it yet."
"We can afford at least to get it framed in. I'm going to see about hiring good builders out of Denver. I talked to Jeremy Shane at the dance, and he said he'd talk to some contractors when he goes back to Denver and wire me some information."
"Luke, don't do this just because Nial Bentley is building his ridiculous castle of a home. And by the way, you didn't hurt him, did you?"
He shook his head. "I just very firmly warned him to stop bothering and embarrassing you." He kissed her hair. "As far as the house, I'm not doing it because of Nial Bentley. I'm doing it because I promised this to you years ago. It's time we built a home fitting for the Double L, and fitting for the most beautiful woman in Montana. I'll have the builders show you some blueprints and you pick out whatever one suits you best. I don't care about size or cost."
"Luke, I don't need or want—"
He kissed her lightly. "No more objections." He sighed, rubbing her back. "I haven't been much of a man to you this winter."
"You couldn't help that." Their eyes held, both of them aching to be one again.
"Tell me you don't find Nial Bentley attractive."
"Of course I find him attractive. Any woman would." Lettie watched the jealousy and disappointment come into his blue eyes. She smiled teasingly. "But he's no Luke Fontaine. He doesn't have your rugged strength and good looks, and he didn't father my five children. He hasn't sacrificed for me, and he isn't nearly as handsome." She ended the words in a whisper, reaching up and running her fingers into his hair. "And while we're on the subject, you seemed to be quite familiar with those two women of questionable reputation you sent after Nial tonight. Just what do you do in the times you come to town without me, Luke Fontaine?"
He pulled the combs from her hair. "They only know me because I've had a few drinks in the Lonesome Tree. I don't need women like that to keep me satisfied, and you know it."
"Do I?" She gave him a seductive look. "Come to bed,
Luke." She helped him to the bed, where he sat down. "I'll make it easy for you," she told him with a sly grin. For tonight she wanted to be as wanton and fetching as those saloon girls, imagined what they might do for a man. She began undressing for him, watched his eyes begin to glaze with desire. She felt both excited and embarrassed as she pulled her clothes off layer by layer, down to her shoes, stockings and garters. She smiled bashfully then, folding her arms over her full breasts.
Luke reached out and grasped her hips. "God, you're beautiful," he groaned. He leaned forward and kissed her stomach, moved his lips to the fold where her thighs met the soft hairs of that private place that had belonged to Luke Fontaine for nearly ten years now. "I want you to have everything, Lettie."
"I already have everything I could ever want." She shivered, wrapping her fingers in his dark hair as she reveled in touches she had not enjoyed for months. He licked at her stomach again, and she sank to her knees and let him taste her breasts. "Let me undress you," she said softly then, pulling away for a moment. She helped him remove his suit coat, untied his tie and tossed it aside. She unbuttoned and removed his shirt, then the top half of his long johns. She kissed his chest. Through the winter he had lifted heavy rocks to keep up his strength, determined not to wither away because he was forced to be immobile. He was returning to his old strength, and she caressed the solid muscle of his chest and arms.
She removed his boots, then helped him stand up so she could take off his pants and long johns. She kissed the wrapping on his thigh, drew in her breath at the sight of his manliness, swollen hard, ready to fulfill a need for both of them that had been long neglected. For months she had bathed him, had been forced to look on his nakedness without emotion. At last she could allow herself to enjoy this man
she loved and desired.
Luke reached over and pulled back the covers, managing to scoot himself farther onto the bed. He held open the covers, and Lettie moved in beside him, their mouths meeting in a savage, hungry kiss as Luke hovered over her then, pressing his eager hardness against her belly, his tongue exploring her mouth as he ached to explore her depths and be one with this woman he loved so, this woman another man wanted but would by God never have. He groaned with the want of her, started to maneuver himself between her legs but stiffened then with the pain of trying to support himself on his knees.
He gritted his teeth and moved away. "Damn! I'm sorry, Lettie."
Lettie leaned over him, her auburn locks tumbling over her shoulders and brushing against his broad chest. "I'll do it," she whispered, feeling wanton and daring in her aching need to feel her man inside her again. She had no idea where she got the courage, but until his leg was better, there was only one way it could be done. He had hinted at times he would like to make love this way, but she had always resisted, thinking it seemed terribly bold, maybe even sinful, even if it was with her own husband.
She moved on top of him, straddling him. He reached up and fondled her breasts, his blue eyes full of love, desire, gratefulness.
"Lettie, you're so beautiful."
She reached down and guided him into herself, gasping at the pleasure his manliness always brought her, the thrill of feeling this wondrous ecstasy again. She never dreamed such boldness could be this fulfilling, this gloriously beautiful. His strong hands moved down to grasp her thighs, moved to that part of her only Luke had touched lovingly, almost worshipfully. He toyed with that secret place that had been so long neglected, and in moments she felt the thrilling climax she had not enjoyed for months. She threw back her head and moved rhythmically then, grasping his strong arms to support herself, feeling wild and free, as though she were out on the range riding a wild stallion.
It had been a long time. Luke's life quickly spilled into her, and he grasped her breasts and groaned with the sweet release. Lettie leaned down, and they kissed hungrily.
"Thank you, Lettie," he groaned. "I never thought you'd do that. It was beautiful."
"I want to do it again," she whispered.
Luke grinned, thinking how she had been worried he might be attracted to the town whores. What she had just done was just as daring and delicious as anything any of those women could do, let alone the fact that she was so beautiful... his wife... his Lettie. He stroked her damp hair back from her face. "As soon as this leg is completely well, I'll make love to you the way a man should." He kissed her several times over, relishing the feel of her nakedness against his own.
Lettie smiled and got up to wash, thinking how Luke Fontaine had taught her to enjoy being with a man, so much so that she could do something so bold as to ride him like a wild thing. She cleaned herself and came back to bed, snuggling beside him. "I just want to feel your arms around me for a little while. It does feel good to be able to turn everything back to you, Luke. I need your strength. I never realized how much until this winter."
He kissed her hair. "I'm proud of the way you took over. I guess if you want to go out on roundup and bring Tyler, you've earned the right."
Lettie traced her fingers over his full lips. "It's just made me love the Double L even more, Luke. I understand your dreams better. They're my dreams, too. If anything ever happens to you, I'll stay on, keep the Double L alive for your sons."
He took one of her fingers into his mouth, licked it, moved to her lips. Lettie laughed wickedly as he rolled her back on top of him. He grasped her thighs from behind and gently pulled them apart, then guided himself into her again. He did not doubt that Nial Bentley was not the only man who fantasized about loving her; but she belonged to Luke Fontaine.
CHAPTER 16
May 1875
Lettie parted the lace curtains of Luke's and her bedroom window to look across nearly an acre of green lawn to the branding corral beyond. From her second-story vantage point, she could see the men working to the right of the new barn Luke had built last fall. The only request Luke had made for the design of their new home was that he be able to look out his own bedroom window and see the barn and corrals in case of trouble.
In the distance she could hear the men whistling and yelling, some of them, including Luke, riding their cutting broncs and whirling their ropes. One by one, young cows and bulls were being roped and branded, and most of the bulls would be castrated to make them easier to handle on a cattle drive and in the grazing fields. Only the best would be singled out to use for breeding. Lettie breathed deeply with the satisfaction that she had been right about trying the Herefords. The herd Luke had ordered from Nial Bentley nearly three years ago had bred well and multiplied in numbers enough that this year Luke could include several hundred head in the drive to Cheyenne.
Good, solid, huge steers they were, and hardy, too, just as Nial had promised. She had never seen the Englishman again after that spring dance in '73. His dealings had been strictly with Luke, and last year the man had decided to go back to Wisconsin to check on his holdings there, then, according to what he had told Luke, he was going back to England for a visit. He had good men to watch his land and cattle, and might be gone two or three years, so he said. She understood deep inside why he had left, and she couldn't help feeling a little sad that the great stone mansion at Essex Manor now sat empty except for a skeleton maintenance crew. She hoped perhaps Nial would come back from England with a wife.
She sat down on the wide bench just beneath the window to watch the branding. She could recognize ten-year-old Tyler even from here. He sat on a fence rail observing the work, wanting to learn all he could. The boy already rode nearly as well as the grown men. The boy burst with pride and excitement during roundup time, and she knew it would be difficult to get him to settle down to reading lessons once Luke left on the summer drive. He was proud to call himself a "cowboy," which they had learned through the Billings Extra was what men like Luke and the others were called by people back East. There were even little books called dime novels being written about such men, and she couldn't help smiling to herself at the fine adventures she and Luke could write about themselves.
Life was good—so good that Lettie was almost afraid to relax and enjoy it. After three years of construction by one of the finest builders out of Denver, the home Luke had promised her was almost completed. The second-story bedrooms were each large and roomy, with big paned windows for light, windows that could be unlatched and swung open to let in the sweet mountain air as soon as it was warm enough. Each child had his or her own room, but Luke's and hers was the biggest, stretching across one whole end of the second floor so that there were windows at the front, the side, and the back. The hardwood floors were waxed and shiny, decorated with Oriental rugs. Luke had wanted her to order a four-poster bed, but she preferred to keep the brass bed he had bought her, just as she had kept the old pine table he had built for her, now in her spacious kitchen.
She liked little reminders of the past, never wanted to forget what it had taken to come this far. That first little shack they had lived in could fit in one corner of their bedroom, and now it couldn't snow deep enough that they couldn't see out their windows. The house sat even higher than the larger log home they had lived in for the past ten years. All the bedrooms were on the second floor, servants quarters on the third. There lived Mae Diggs, a middle-aged woman who had lost her farmer husband last summer when he was struck by lightning. Their two grown sons had given up on the hard farming life long before that and lived in Denver. With eleven-year-old Katie and eight-year-old Pearl getting big enough to help her with the housework, Lettie didn't need an extra maid. But Mrs. Diggs had been left destitute, and Lettie had given the woman the job just so she would have a place to live. It had all worked out well. Mae had turned out to be a wonderful cook, and she loved the children.
The children's tutor also lived on the third floor. Lettie had written to
a school in Boston to inquire about having someone sent out, and the result had been Elsie Bansen, a lovely, blond twenty-year-old, who came from an orphanage. Elsie could not only teach reading and writing, but also knew how to play the piano. She was giving lessons to Pearl, who sat downstairs in the parlor right now plunking away at a lesson. Lettie loved the sound of the grand piano they had ordered out of Chicago. It filled the whole house with music, and sometimes she felt like crying at the sound of it, remembering when the constant wind was all there was to listen to.
Elsie had seemed uncertain at first that she wanted to live in such a remote area. But then she had fallen head over heels in love with one of Luke's new hired hands, Peter Yost, a handsome young cowboy who had come to the Double L because he "wanted to work for the biggest rancher in Montana Territory." It seemed that out here, if a man couldn't be a big-time rancher himself, the next best thing was to work for one, and at least if Elsie and Peter got married, they were almost sure to stay on at the ranch. With all the hired help, some with wives, the Double L was becoming its own little settlement, and there were no more horribly lonely winters.
Lettie rose and walked over to smooth the colorful quilt on the bed, a quilt she had made herself. She moved to the separate washroom then, just off the bedroom for Luke's and her private use. She cleaned up Luke's shaving table, poured water from a porcelain pitcher into a marble sink to wash it out. Luke had rigged the sink and a porcelain bathtub so that water ran outside through pipes. Old wash water would never again have to be carried out and dumped. Supplies of fresh water were kept in holding tanks built into a special room on the third floor, so that the rest of the house had running water through simple gravity, and a coal-fired boiler in the basement heated the whole house, as well as providing hot water for bathing.
She felt like the most modern woman who ever lived, although she knew there were even more advanced plumbing systems for people in places like Denver. For now, and for this part of the country, this was the height of elegance. Everything was still so new that she had not tired yet of looking at her grand home. The rooms were big and airy, cool in summers because of the wonderful cross-ventilation of the home's many windows. A veranda ran the entire circumference of the house, supported by white pillars that stood out beautifully against the red brick of the outside walls. The porch had not been part of the original design, but Lettie had insisted on having one, so the builder had obliged, and every window was graced with white shutters. Green grass surrounded the house, watered by ranch hands who sprinkled it by means of a hydraulic system from a creek higher in the mountains.
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