Wildest Dreams

by Rosanne Bittner

  "Lettie, I don't want to talk about Paul. I can't."

  She turned to face him. "We have to talk about him! That's what this is all about. Paul's death is what drove us apart."

  Luke lay back down and turned his back to her, and for several minutes there was only the sound of the crackling fire and the wolves howling to each other in the soft moonlight.

  "Luke, the misunderstandings that come from silence can bring more pain than shouted words. It's silence that has kept us apart, and I'm just as much at fault as you."

  He finally turned to lie on his back again, but he looked at the sky, not at Lettie. "I feel like such a failure, Lettie, as a father, a husband, a protector. If I hadn't chosen to settle where I did, we'd probably still have both Nathan and Paul. Do you think I don't realize you blame me for that? Do you think that if I could give up everything I have built here just to have them both back, that I wouldn't do it?"

  Her eyes teared again. "Oh, Luke, I know I made you feel to blame, but I was so wrong. I was looking for someone to blame, so I wouldn't have to face my own guilt."

  He finally met her eyes. "Your guilt? For what?"

  "Luke, I made the choice to come here with you, knowing how difficult and dangerous it would be for all of us, especially Nathan. I was young and madly in love, and I couldn't believe anything bad could ever happen to my son. And after Nathan disappeared, you offered to give up the ranch and move closer to town. I'm the one who wanted to stay right where we were, in case Nathan ever returned. I'm the reason we lived so far from town when Paul got sick." She sighed deeply. "I'm not so sure any doctor could have done much more for him than we did. It isn't only the fact that we couldn't get help that I feel terrible about. My guilt over Paul is..." She hesitated, always finding it difficult to talk about her baby. "I will always regret not giving Paul the time and attention he so craved those last few weeks before he got sick."

  The memory overwhelmed her again, and she lay quietly crying. She never heard Luke get up. She only knew that in the next moment he was there beside her, pulling her into his arms. He pulled one of her blankets around her shoulders and kissed her hair. "Lettie, I think it's natural to blame ourselves for all the things we might have done differently. I know now that it's all just a reaction to losing someone precious to us. We want to make it better by blaming someone else; and then we turn the blame on ourselves, thinking that by doing some kind of penance, we can bring them back."

  "I was so wrong to blame you at first. I know what that must have done to you. Until these last few months when you stayed away so much, you were a good father, Luke. I just want that man back. I want my husband back."

  "He's right here, Lettie. Come sleep beside me tonight. I just want to hold you." His voice broke on the last words. "I miss little Paul so much, Lettie." He wept. "We should share that grief."

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, and her own tears came harder then. "He's up there, Luke," she whispered. "He's up there, playing among the stars."

  "I want you to come back with me, Irv. You and your boys.

  You're my brother, and them nephews of mine is like my own sons, sons I've lost." Zack Walker downed another shot of whiskey. "Luke Fontaine and that bunch with him had no right hangin' Johnny and Jeeter. Killin' Matt Duncan was self-defense, and the boys was just havin' a little fun with the man's wife. They didn't hurt her none. She probably enjoyed it."

  He did not notice Irv's wife cast him a look of disdain. The woman had long ago learned to keep her mouth shut when it came to having her own opinion about anything. She had suffered enough beatings to know when to keep quiet. She pushed back a piece of stringy hair and turned to stir a pot of stew. Sweat stained her plain, long-sleeved dress, which was too warm for such a hot day; but her husband refused to allow her to show any part of her body but her hands and face, except to his own groping hands at night. That had resulted in ten children, the three oldest, Ben, Larry and Jim, already twenty-two, twenty, and nineteen, respectively. Her youngest was five. In spite of how they had been conceived, she still loved her children, and she did not like the idea that her brother-in-law was proposing now— that her husband and three oldest sons go with him on a journey of revenge; but no one was going to ask her opinion, and she dared not offer it.

  "Think about it, Irv. How would you feel if it was your boys you seen strung up like pigs?"

  Irv scratched at a graying beard, his dark, beady eyes studying his brother's own aging face. "Back home in Tennessee, we wouldn't have let somethin' like this go," he drawled.

  "And not here either! Come back up to Montana with me, Irv. We'll gather some more men so's we have plenty. We'll find a way to pay Fontaine back for my sons, and we'll ride on up into Canada with some of the finest cattle and horses anywhere around; or we can bring them back down here to Wyoming, take 'em on down the Outlaw Trail. There's plenty of outlaws and rustlers there who'd pay us in gold for the stolen beef. I can see you ain't makin' it on this here ranch."

  "Some big rancher north of here cut off my water supply. My grass dried up, and I had to sell my beef."

  "There, you see what I mean? You've had the same problems I've had with Fontaine, the big landowners comin' down on us poor folks who are strugglin' to make ends meet. It ain't fair, Irv. In this family we believe in an eye for an eye, and it's time to get even. On our way back into Montana we can rustle some beef away from that rancher north of here who has given you so much trouble. We'll be helpin' each other, Irv. You must know how important this is to me. I've rode day and night just to get here as fast as I could."

  Irv sighed deeply, glancing at his wife. "Ought to be enough food stored up that the woman will get by till I get back, and Billy and Drew are old enough to stay here and take care of their ma."

  "But we want to go with you, Pa!" Billy spoke up.

  "Shut up, boy! I told all of you to sit quiet and let me talk to your uncle!"

  All ten Walker children sat in a circle around the big wooden table, faces dirty, hair oily, clothes soiled, faces stony. They, too, had learned from an early age to be silent unless given permission to speak.

  "Liz, Marybeth, come help me dish up the stew," their mother ordered.

  The two older girls immediately obeyed. Thirteen-year-old Dennis sat pouting. He, too, wanted to go with his father and uncle to steal cattle and see how exciting it might be to ride into Montana and take revenge against a rich, powerful rancher like Luke Fontaine.

  "What do you think, boys?" Irv directed the question at his three oldest sons. "You willin' to take the risk to defend the Walker family honor?"

  "Yes, sir," Benny answered immediately.

  "I'll be glad to go," Jim said. Glad to get the hell away from this boring place, he thought.

  "Sure, I'll go, Pa," Larry added. "I can shoot real straight."

  Zack Walker grinned. "Hey, boys, Luke Fontaine's got a daughter just about old enough to be findin' out about men. I seen her in town once. Her name's Katie, and she's right pretty. I'd guess she's about thirteen or fourteen by now."

  All three boys grinned, and Zack directed his gaze to his brother. "I can't think of no better way to get revenge than to soil that man's own daughter. Let the Walker boys stick her good. We'll take the man's cattle and his daughter; and maybe we'll get one of his sons, too."

  "How are we gonna get in there to do it?"

  "I'll have to think on it. We'll find a way. He figures I'm long gone, that I'd be too afraid to come back. But that son of a bitch don't scare me none. I've got a little surprise for him."

  "You sure we ain't bitin' off more than we can chew?"

  "Not if we plan it right and bring in some more men to help us." Zach put out his hand. "After it's over, we'll go get Johnny's wife and the grandkids. They're all still in northern Montana, where we've been livin' in a deserted cabin. You with me, brother?"

  Irv grinned, displaying yellowed teeth, one of them missing in front. He grasped his brother's hand firmly. "I'm with you."

/>   "I'm thinking of forming a society for preserving the memories of people like Will and Henny," Lettie told Luke. She picked up his plate, smiling at the fact that he had eaten two huge bowls of beef stew and nearly half a loaf of bread. The beef, of course, came from Double L cattle, a smoked roast she had brought along with potatoes and vegetables so she could cook her husband a real meal once they arrived at the cabin. She had even baked an apple pie, and she carried it over to the table to slice it. "I want to be sure people like that are remembered. We could save some of Will's buckskin clothes, some of Henny's dresses, things like that. I think you should also start saving certain tools and equipment as they become outdated. Years from now those things could be of value. I remember visiting a museum in St. Louis when I was little, and the courthouse where people used to gather before heading out on the Oregon Trail. With the railroad being built, things like that are becoming a part of history. I want to preserve Montana's history, Luke." She sat down again. "Men like Will... and like you... should be remembered."

  He put a hand over hers. "It's the women who make it all possible. You mark my word. Someday the women will be remembered with a lot more enthusiasm and melancholy than the men."

  She smiled softly. "Maybe." She studied his dark, strong hand, feeling almost like a newlywed again, even more nervous because they had let themselves become such strangers. An approaching storm had turned dusk to an early darkness, and she knew that tonight... "Do you want some pie?"

  Luke noticed her avoiding his eyes. "Lettie, let's save the pie for later."

  Thunder rumbled in the mountains that surrounded them, and Lettie remembered his first kiss... on the wagon train west. It had been storming then, too. She finally met his eyes. "Tell me that being with Annie wasn't as pleasurable as being with your wife."

  His handsome blue eyes showed the anguish he felt for having turned to another woman. "Do you really need to ask?"

  She looked down at the table again. "Sometimes I hated you, Luke, but it was only because I loved you so much. Does that make any sense?"

  He squeezed her hand. "Yes. I've felt the same way about you at times, mainly because I hated myself, for failing you. I hated the fact that you came from a life that I couldn't give you for a long time. I figured you were beginning to resent the fact that I've made you live in a place where there are no theaters, no paved streets, no formal schools. I wanted to hate you because it was easier than loving you and having you reject me for someone who could truly give you the finer life, travel with you to Europe, take you to the theaters of New York—"

  "Oh, Luke, surely you know those things mean nothing to me! How could I enjoy those things without the man I love at my side?"

  "A bastard, who has had to struggle for every bit of what we have and who has made you struggle right along with him and has put you through hell. Nial Bentley comes from a highly respected English family. He's a man whose parentage is legitimate, a man for whom the money will never run out. If his ranch went under tomorrow, he'd still be well set."

  Lettie shook her head. "I would rather have nothing material and have you at my side, than to have all of England's wealth and have to share it with a man whose touch does nothing for me, a man whose love can never be anything but shallow, who wants me only as a decoration on his arm. He did not build what he has with his own two hands. He didn't risk his life for it. And he did not father my children." She felt her cheeks warm at the last words, and she looked down again. "I feel so strange," she whispered. "Being here in this cabin reminds me of the early years."

  Luke got up, came around and took her arm, gently pulling her out of the chair. The thunder came closer, but it could not rumble any louder than the thundering of their hearts as Luke pulled her close and embraced her warmly, kissing her hair, her forehead, her eyes. She kept those eyes closed, turned her face up more so that his lips could caress her cheeks, her nose, finally her mouth, in a sweet, warm, provocative kiss that awakened buried desires.

  There was no ignoring the desperate need they both felt from that moment on. He picked her up in his arms and carried her through a curtained door into a little room that held only a bed and chest of drawers. Their kisses became heated and hungry, and the feel of his hands moving over her hips, her breasts, only made her want him more. She wanted to prove to him that he did not need someone like Annie Gates to pleasure him; and Luke in turn wanted to prove that this woman belonged only to Luke Fontaine, that no man could love her with as much passion, no man could please her more.

  In the deep passion of renewed love their clothes came off with eagerness, until naked skin touched, pressed, rubbed. Nothing needed to be said, and no preliminaries were necessary. All the intimacies, the tasting and exploring, would come later. They had all night to do this a hundred ways, all night to go more slowly, to savor every inch of each other's bodies again. For the moment, there was only the need to brand and be branded, to share that one special thing that was special only for them, to express long-buried love in the most intimate way, the ultimate joy of the union of two bodies, two people who had shared great joy and great sorrow.

  Outside the cabin the summer storm raged full force, just as their own physical needs raged to be released. Lettie gasped when he entered her with the full force of his need. It had been so long for her that it was almost painful, for he was greatly swollen with pent-up desire. His shaft was hot and hungry, and he moved in wild rhythm, groaning her name, his heated body sliding against her skin, his broad shoulders hovering over her possessively, protectively.

  She had never wanted him with such aching passion, not even in those first years of marriage. The troubles they had seen had come full circle and now seemed to bond them more closely, sealing vows made long ago. He grasped her hips and shoved himself deep, shuddering when his life spilled into her, and they both knew, in that moment, that nothing, no sorrow, no hardship, no other human being, could ever again come between them.

  CHAPTER 23

  May 1878

  "I swear, Luke, it's just not fair." Joe Parker laughed, and finished a cup of punch. "You've got the prettiest wife and prettiest two daughters of anybody around."

  Luke gave Katie and Pearl each a light hug, his arms around both of them. He was proud to bring his family to the spring dance being held at Billings's new, larger town hall. It felt good to rejoin society after a long, cold winter, good to be out in public as a family again. The past winter had been one of discovery. He had made a point of staying home more, sharing wintry nights with Lettie and the four children around the fireplace. There had been a lot of talking, and more than a few tears. They had read together, played games together, and Pearl had entertained them nearly every night with her piano playing. The family had never been closer.

  Behind the refreshment table, Lettie dipped more punch into Joe's cup. "These pretty girls get their looks totally from their mother," Luke answered Joe with a grin.

  "Oh, Luke, Katie looks just like you," Lettie answered, handing the cup back to Joe.

  Joe nodded. "Pearl there, now she gets her looks from her ma; but Lettie's right about Katie. She's tall like her pa and has your dark hair, Luke. I guess she's just a real pretty mixture of the both of you. How old are you now, Katie?"

  Katie blushed, always shy. Tonight she worried that the elegant, mint green dress her mother had had specially made for her fit her too perfectly. The darts in the bodice drew the dress over her developing breasts in a way that made them look too big for her thin build, and she felt that she should hide them, wear something looser. Lettie had insisted she looked beautiful and not at all out of proportion. Part of her enjoyed the fact that she was becoming a woman in many ways, but the child in her was embarrassed by her blossoming body. "I'm almost fourteen," she answered Joe.

  "Fourteen! Girl, you look closer to sixteen."

  Katie wondered why he said that. Because of her breasts? She folded her arms over them self-consciously.

  "You see that line of boys over there?" J
oe pointed to four young men who stood across the way, watching other couples dance. "They're all wanting to ask you to dance, Katie, but they're afraid because you're so pretty, and because you're Luke Fontaine's daughter. They're not sure you pa wants you dancin' with young men yet."

  Katie reddened more. "I don't really want to dance anyway," she said shyly.

  "Katie, it's all right if one of them asks you," Luke told her, giving her another squeeze.

  "I don't think so, Pa." Katie wasn't sure how she felt about boys. Only lately had she begun to look at them differently, with a new curiosity.

  "I'll dance with them," Pearl spoke up with a dimpled grin. "I'm only ten, but I can dance."

  "Pearl! Ten-year-old girls don't dance with anyone but their brothers or father," Lettie scolded, a teasing smile on her face.

  Katie wished she could be more like Pearl, who didn't have a bashful bone in her body. It was easy to see that Pearl was going to be the most beautiful sister, at least in Katie's eyes; and Pearl was the most talented child in the family. She could picture her sister attending a fancy school far away and making a great splash with her piano playing. She didn't fear anything, and she loved attention. Katie, on the other hand, wanted only to stay close to home and maybe teach school and read quietly in her spare time. She hated attention as much as Pearl loved it, and sometimes she even wished she were not a Fontaine. Then people wouldn't stare at her as the oldest daughter of the richest rancher in Montana Territory.

  "Right now I think it's Lettie and I who will dance," Luke told his daughters. He let go of Pearl and put his hand out to Lettie, already aching for her again just from the sight of her this evening. He had spent less time on the roundup and branding this spring, had let the Double L men do most of the work. For the first time since they married, he gave more of his attention to his wife that spring than he did to the ranch and cattle. He had come to realize how important his family was, and all winter he had felt like a newlywed. It was good to have his wife back in their bed.