Nial smiled, removing his hat. "How good to see you again, Lettie. My God, it's been four years since I left for England."
"No one was sure if you would ever come back. What has happened? What brought you back to Montana?"
You did, my beautiful Lettie, he wanted to answer. She had not changed, except that she was too thin. He could see the sorrow in her eyes. Why wasn't Luke here, instead of carousing in town? "Well, you know how I always felt about this land. It's too beautiful for a man to stay away from forever. And the man who was managing the ranch for my father quit to buy a ranch of his own in Colorado. I was getting bored in England, so I decided to come back and take over Essex Manor again. After all, the cattle industry is booming now, better than ever!" He reached out and took hold of her hand, squeezing it in an effort to show how glad he was to see her again, but he longed to take her into his arms. He had thought that four years away would change these feelings, but the moment he set eyes on her again...
"Sit down, Nial!" Lettie pulled her hand away and offered him a love seat. "Would you like some tea? I'll go have Mae make some for us."
"I would enjoy that." He shivered. "The March winds are mean this year."
Pain moved into Lettie's eyes. "The wind is always mean out here." She left the room for a moment, then returned to sit down beside him. "A lot has happened since you left, Nial." Her smile faded.
Nial frowned, turning to set his top hat on another chair. "So I have heard. First your missing son was found, then ran off again. And then..." He took her hand again. "I heard about your little Paul, Lettie. I came here to express my sympathy, to you and to Luke. Alas, I am told it is difficult to catch your husband at home. Perhaps I'll see him at the next cattlemen's meeting in Billings. I understand he has been spending a lot of time in town this winter."
He could see the pain in her eyes. He hated to see her suffer, but if her son's death could open the door to getting her away from Luke, he would take advantage of the situation. A woman in grief was easier to manipulate, wasn't she? The news of Paul Fontaine's death over a year ago had reached him all the way in England, by letter from the manager of Essex Manor. A child's death could either bring the parents closer together, or tear them apart. Apparently, in this case, it had separated Luke and Lettie—perhaps enough that he could at last find a way to have this woman for himself. The right words, giving her the comfort her husband was apparently failing to give her, could pull her right into his waiting arms, and that hope was really what had brought him back to Montana. He let go of her hand, not wanting to seem too forward right away.
"Yes, he has," Lettie answered, looking at her lap. "Paul died over a year ago, and it hasn't been the same between us." She sighed deeply. "I think Luke blames himself because we live so far from town. The doctor couldn't get here in time. There had been a terrible blizzard, and..." She rose. "It's a long story. Luke has a lot of ghosts that haunt him. He thinks I blame him, too. I want to tell him that I don't, but he's turned so cold and silent, I can't find the right words; and I don't think he'd believe me anyway, because at first I did blame him. Now he's like a crazy man, burning out nesters, chasing out the sheep ranchers." She blinked back tears and turned to face him, her face crimson from spilling her feelings. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what made me say all of that."
Nial smiled gently. "You just needed someone to say it to, that's all. I don't mind, Lettie; but it should be Luke you talk to, not me. He's probably in town right now spilling his own emotions into a glass of beer, or perhaps crying them out on the shoulder of Annie Gates or one of the other—" He hesitated when he saw the devastation in her eyes. Yes, he had hit the right nerve! It was only a rumor that Luke Fontaine had been sleeping with the town's prettiest and highest-paid whore when he was in Billings, but it was enough to suggest to Lettie that her husband had not only abandoned her emotionally, but was probably cheating on her besides.
"Annie Gates?" she asked.
Mae brought in a tray of tea, and neither of them spoke for a moment. Lettie came over to sit back down, but Nial noticed her hand shake as she poured his tea.
"I'm sorry I let that slip, Lettie. It's entirely none of my business, and it might not even be true. I didn't come here for any of this. I only meant to express my sympathy and let you know that I am back." He touched her arm. "If I can be of any help, in any way, please let me know." He turned to squeeze lemon into his tea while Lettie poured her own cup and added sugar to it. He had to force himself not to smile, for he had apparently shaken her to the bones with his remark about Annie Gates.
"Yes, I'll do that," she answered. She sipped some of her tea and closed her eyes for a moment, as though to compose herself. "How did you know so much about what's been happening here?" she asked.
"My ranch manager kept me updated. I suppose you fear your son, Nathan, might have had a part in the Custer massacre?"
She sighed deeply. "I can only hope he didn't, and that he's all right. He could be in Canada now, for all we know. Or he... could be dead." She took another deep breath, needing to change the subject. "How was England, Nial?" Was that true concern she saw in his eyes? It felt good to know someone cared. "I don't suppose you found yourself a wife?"
"No wife," he answered. "Oh, I did my share of courting, but none of them had the stamina it would take to come out here and live in such desolation, away from London's paved streets and lovely theaters. There aren't many women like you, Lettie, with strength and courage. I'm just sorry for what you have gone through since I was here last."
Lettie saw the admiration and sorrow in his eyes, and she realized the man's feelings for her had not changed. She turned to pour a little more tea. "Well, maybe you'll find a wife right here in Billings," she said, hoping he would take the hint that he should look elsewhere. Strangely, his attention did not annoy her this time. It only confused her. So many things confused her since Paul had died and Nathan disappeared again. She felt removed from herself, as though she were watching life from outside of her body.
"Chloris Greene has never married. She seemed to be quite taken with you. Have you seen her since returning?"
"No. I may pay her a visit, but she's so young."
"Not anymore. She must be at least twenty by now. Maybe she has been waiting for you to come back."
He smiled. "You flatter me." I wish you had been waiting for me, Lettie.
"How do you like our new home?" Lettie asked then, turning and looking around the parlor.
Nial wondered if she had read his thoughts and was trying to change the subject.
"We finished it after you left. It's no stone mansion," she continued, "but it's big and airy and has plenty of rooms. Luke insisted I design it however I wanted."
"It's absolutely lovely, elegant," he answered. Just like you, Lettie. "I saw Pearl for just a moment before you came in. She is such a beautiful child! How old is she now?"
Lettie set her cup on the coffee table. "She'll be ten this year. My children are all growing up much too fast!"
Nial laughed. "Pearl told me she is doing very well with the piano. I don't suppose you could get her to play for me?"
Lettie smiled. She loved talking about the children. Those she still had were her whole world now. "She loves showing off. I'm sure she'd be very happy to play for you.
And before you leave Robbie will probably want to show you Punkin's new puppies. Punkin is the daughter of our big yellow mutt, Pancake. Robbie prides himself in taking care of all the dogs and cats. He dreams about being a doctor one day, but not for animals. He wants to doctor people." Her smile faded. "I'm afraid the poor child was deeply affected by his little brother's death. He was right there at Paul's side when it happened." It should have been me. I should have been holding him. If only I could have him back for that one last moment, just long enough to tell him again that I love him.
"And what about Katie and Ty? What are they up to?"
Lettie rose. "Ty spends almost every day practicing roping. He is going t
o go with Luke this year on the spring roundup and branding. He's so excited about it he hardly eats. He's becoming a handsome young man. He looks more like fifteen than twelve." Tall and handsome, like his father. Luke! Please don't sleep with that whore! Please be patient with me. "Katie is the little homemaker, always helping Mae in the kitchen." She walked out into the wide hallway and called upstairs to Pearl. "Come and play the piano for Mr. Bentley," she told the girl.
Pearl hurried out of her room, red pigtails flying, green eyes on fire with delight. Her fair-skinned face showed a few freckles, and it was obvious she was going to be a beautiful woman someday. Lettie smiled and gave her a hug. "You have an audience, love." Lettie nodded toward Nial, and Pearl grinned and curtsied.
"I'm not real good yet, but I'm getting better," she told the Englishman.
"Oh, I hear you play beautifully."
"Really? Who told you that?"
"Oh, Will Doolan brags all over town about your playing!"
Pearl laughed. "Uncle Will tells such big stories." She hurried to the piano and opened it, positioning herself on the bench. She began playing some hymns, and Nial agreed that, for her age, the child was a wonder at the keyboard.
"She could go far with this," he told Lettie after several minutes of playing.
Lettie felt the pain of wishing Luke were here to listen. Because of the death of one son and the desertion of another, he was missing out on these special times with the rest of his children.
"You might consider letting her study music when she is older," Nial was saying. "I know of a very good music school in Chicago. I have contacts there, people who would take excellent care of her."
Lettie met his eyes, gratitude in her own. "Music is all she talks about. Thank you for the offer." Here was a man who cared about the finer things in life, who seemed to care more about her children's futures than their own father did right now. Had she misjudged Nial Bentley? Was it wrong to appreciate his friendship and attention in this dark time? Anne Sacks had little time for visiting. She was busy with two young sons, as well as helping Billy build his own small ranch on land Luke had given the young couple. Mae was constantly cleaning and cooking, and in her free time she had begun seeing one of Luke's hired hands, Bob Franks. The children's tutor, Elsie, had married Peter Yost, and when she was not teaching, she was at her own modest home Peter had built for them about a half mile from the main house. Now she was expecting a baby.
It seemed everyone had abandoned her, or was it just her imagination? Maybe it was she who had abandoned all her friends. She had to be careful of her feelings. Depression, guilt, and grief had distorted her ability to reason. Maybe they had also distorted her view of Luke. She wanted everything to be the way it used to be between them.
Pearl played for nearly an hour, reveling in the attention of the newcomer. She did not remember Nial Bentley from the one other time he had visited here, but she liked his fascinating accent and the way he doted on her talent. Her own father used to listen to her often, until Paul died. It seemed as though a lot of things had changed since then. Her father was almost never home, and her mother seldom smiled. Nial Bentley had made Lettie smile again, and she was glad when her mother asked him to stay for lunch. He told them all stories about London; and about cities like Chicago and Omaha. She tried to imagine what such places must be like, and she dreamed about going there someday, began to daydream about being a famous pianist. Mr. Bentley seemed to know everything about everything, even about a university in the state of Michigan that he suggested Robbie might want to attend someday to study to be a doctor. All he had to do was pass the necessary entrance exams.
The only thing she didn't like about the Englishman was the way he grasped her mother's hands before he finally left. There was an intimacy about the way he held them that struck her as something that should be reserved only for her father. But her father wasn't here. He so seldom sat at the family dinner table now, and she knew something was terribly wrong between her parents. She didn't understand it completely, but it worried her, especially when her mother told the other children and her that perhaps they had better not be too enthusiastic around Luke about Nial's visit.
"Your father and Mr. Bentley have had their differences in the past," she told them, without explaining what those differences were. "And lately your father gets angry so easily. It might be best not to make too much of Mr. Bentley's visit. He was just trying to be friendly."
"I don't like him," Ty grumbled. "He's soft, and I don't like the way he looks at you."
Lettie met her son's eyes and saw Luke there—protective, jealous, possessive. It seemed those emotions and more had left Luke, all except hate, with no purpose left in life but killing or ousting every stranger on his land and continuing to build his little empire, with or without her at his side.
CHAPTER 19
August 1877
Lettie disembarked from the family's three-seater buggy and walked up to Will and Henny's log home, grabbing hold of her straw hat to keep it from blowing off in a stiff, hot wind. She could see Henny was sitting in a rocker on the porch. She forced herself to smile, though she was shocked at how white the woman's hair had become. She lifted the hem of her yellow cotton dress as she went up the steps, then leaned over Henny to give her a hug.
"Oh, it's good to see you again, Henny! I miss you being able to come out to the ranch."
"Lettie! I didn't know you were coming. I'm so glad, dear." The words were slightly slurred. Since her stroke, Henny could barely walk, and Will had hired a woman to come and do the cleaning and cooking. One of Henny's several cats sat on her lap, and the woman petted it lightly with her right hand, which was weak but usable. She could hardly move her left hand and arm, and the left side of her face drooped slightly.
"It's been so long, Lettie. I was so worried about you. The other women say you almost never leave the house. I'm so glad to see you're getting out."
Lettie noticed the woman's eyes were more sunken, and she appeared to be even weaker than the last time she had seen her. Was her good friend dying? Oh, how she hated death. She couldn't bear losing Henny, too. Not now!
She pulled up a chair and sat down beside the woman, while Bob Franks, who had brought her to visit, headed the family buggy back to Billings. "For reasons even I don't understand, I find it hard to leave home anymore, Henny. I'm so sorry I've neglected visiting as often as I should. Somehow I feel as if I'm deserting Paul when I go away. I know that sounds ridiculous, but I can't help it."
Henny reached over and touched her arm. "No one knows how they will react to losing a loved one until it happens, Lettie. Each of us works out our grief differently."
Lettie sighed deeply. "I suppose. At any rate, the girls needed some things that they wanted to come to town to pick out themselves, and Luke and Ty are on the cattle drive to Cheyenne. Bob Franks was bringing Mae into town, so we all came together. He left Mae and the girls at Syd Martin's store. Mae and Bob are married now, you know. Mae is staying on to help me, though. She and Bob share a room on the third floor, and Bob will stay on as a ranch hand."
"Will told me they got married. How nice for Mae!" Henny managed to turn her head to meet Lettie's green eyes, her own dark eyes all-knowing. "What about your marriage, Lettie? It's all the other women gossip about when they visit, you know."
Lettie paled. "They do?"
Henny squeezed her arm, an understanding smile making her face break into its many premature wrinkles. "Lettie, everyone knows Luke spends more time over at the Lonesome Tree or out on the range than he does at home. Ever since Paul died—"
"I don't want to talk about it," Lettie interrupted, pulling her arm away. "I didn't come here for that."
"Didn't you?"
Lettie put a hand to her forehead. "That stroke certainly didn't affect your mind or your insight, did it? You get right to the point."
Henny smiled. "We've always been close, Lettie. I've been so worried about you, not visiting, keeping yourself away from
people, not attending the women's meetings. You've always been the one to bring people together, a leader, so strong and elegant and sure. I hear the rumors and I hurt for you. As far as getting to the point, I have to, Lettie. You're my friend, and I love you; and God knows we might not get another chance to talk, my health the way it is."
"Oh, don't say that, Henny! I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't talk to you sometimes. Even when I don't visit, just knowing you're here is somehow a comfort. What does Doc Manning say?"
Henny began stroking the cat on her lap again. "There isn't much he can do. I try to do things to build my strength, but every day I feel a little weaker. I don't really mind for me, you know. I just hate being this way for Will. He's been so patient and good." She sighed. "Enough of me. You're trying to change the subject, Lettie Fontaine, and I won't let you do it. You're hurting. Luke is hurting. But you aren't sharing that hurt and helping each other. Why not?"
Lettie shook her head. "I give up." She smiled sadly. "There is so much I want to say to him, Henny, but the words just won't come."
"You had a good marriage, Lettie. Everyone could see how strong it was, how much you loved each other. Love like that doesn't die without a good fight. Maybe that's what you need—a good fight—scream, yell, get it all out."
"Maybe. I just don't quite know how to get the conversation started, and Luke is gone so much now." Lettie grasped at her hat again as a gust of wind tugged at it. "It's so hot today."
"Ah, ah! You're changing the subject again."
Lettie sat quietly thinking for a moment before continuing. "At first I blamed him for everything, and I guess he sensed that. He grew so cold and hard. Now I don't know how to get him back. I'm not even sure how I feel about him anymore. Since Nathan ran off and Paul died... I don't know. I just don't have those feelings anymore. It's as though all the love and passion have gone out of me. I don't even do the books anymore. I used to love doing that for Luke. Now everything is changed. It's as though we're on different pathways. We don't even—" She looked down at the handbag in her lap. "We don't even share the same bedroom any more."
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