Bittner, Rosanne (23 page)

"Make love to me all night, Luke," she whispered.

"That's asking a lot for a man who's been in the saddle most of the day," he teased.

She ran her hands over his muscular arms. "It's a lot of man I'm asking it from."

He moved between her legs again. "I missed the hell out of you, just as I always do."

"I missed you, too," she whispered.

He moved inside of her again, deep, rhythmic thrusts that made her groan with pleasure. There would be no more talk about God or outlaws or the children or anything else. There would only be this for the rest of the night... Luke lying naked beside her, claiming her, taking his pleasure while he gave her so much pleasure in return.

Yes, her mother had suggested she'd be safer and probably happier in Denver, but she could not imagine leaving the Double L, leaving this land Luke loved so much. It had become a part of him, and Luke was a part of the land. She was married to Montana just as surely as she was married to Luke Fontaine.

On a high mesa that overlooked Fontaine land, Lettie guided her horse beside Luke's.

"I know how much you miss your mother since she went back," Luke told her.

"It would almost have been easier if she'd never come at all," Lettie answered. "I'll probably never see Mama again." She patted the neck of her gray-and-white Appaloosa mare, glad Luke had suggested that they do something alone after her mother and sister left for Denver. She missed her family dearly, but it felt good to have this time alone with her husband, away from the children. At home he was always busy with chores, often gone from before dawn until suppertime; and for at least ten days out of every month he was gone on a trip around the Double L, riding the fence line to check on men posted as guards at various line shacks, watching for Indians, squatters, and rustlers. Each man also had the duty of mending fences and watching for stray cattle and horses.

Luke watched the few head of cattle that had wandered to this area to graze. "I'm sorry you can't see your mother more often."

Lettie adjusted her sunbonnet. "There is nothing to be sorry for. I wouldn't change anything now. I could never be happy anyplace else."

Luke's shiny black gelding shuddered and tossed his mane as he shifted restlessly. "Take it easy, boy," Luke said softly, pulling on the reins. He grinned. "This one likes to run. I ought to race him."

Lettie smiled, watching the beautiful animal. Ever since losing Red to the Indians and recently losing Paint to death, Luke had given up allowing himself to get attached to one particular horse. Among his herd, there were four horses he kept for himself and Lettie, refusing to sell any of them. One was the Appaloosa she rode, a gentle mare he trusted with

the children and her; the black gelding he rode now strictly for pleasure; a huge roan-colored gelding sturdy enough for all ranch work; and a buckskin-colored gelding with black tail and mane that was his best cutting horse, used on cattle drives and at spring roundup. "He's so beautiful," she said to him about the horse he rode now, "but a little too nervous and fidgety for me."

"Whoa! Whoa!" Luke commanded then, as his horse turned in a circle. "You're right about that," he answered with a grin, finally calming the animal again. "Tex had more trouble breaking this one than any he's worked with yet." He took a thin cigar from his pocket, looking several yards back to make sure Ben Garvey was still with them. He had asked the man to come along in case of trouble, wanting an extra guard on Lettie. Ben stayed far behind them so he and Lettie could have some privacy. The man gave him a signal that everything was all right, and Luke turned back to Lettie. He lit the cigar.

"Luke." Lettie spoke his name softly.

He puffed on the cigar a moment. "What is it?"

"Don't let yourself change completely. I wouldn't want you to become as coarse and unfeeling as Tex."

Luke shrugged. "Tex isn't all bad. He told me he grew up an orphan in the streets of Chicago, learned to steal at the tender age of five just to stay alive, killed his first man at eleven. He never has told me who it was or why he killed him, has never said what his real name is or any other details about his life, but I know there's a side to him that knows right from wrong, appreciates honesty in a man. He as much as saved my life the day we faced off those buffalo hunters. The same time I shot one of them, another had his gun out. Tex got that one. Otherwise I might have taken a bullet."

He met her gaze, and Lettie thought how very handsome he looked today. Was it just because his being home was still new and such a sweet pleasure, or was it that the weathered, rugged look about him had only added to the masculine features she already loved? His eyes were bluer today than the vivid blue sky above them.

"Don't worry," he was saying. "Men like Tex are necessary out here, and part of me has to be just like him. That doesn't mean I'm not the same man you married." He looked away again. "I do have to say that part of that man died when Nathan was taken. I'll never quite forgive myself for not being able to get him back for you, Lettie."

Lettie gazed at a sea of green grass spread out before them as far as she could see. It had been a good summer, just enough rain to keep the plains green with good feed for the cattle. She worried what would happen if they ever had a drought and had to buy feed for so much stock. Surely it would ruin them financially. "You did all that you could. There is no sense going back over it again."

They both sat there quietly for several minutes, a gentle breeze blowing the smoke from Luke's cigar off into nothingness. "You see that fence line way out there?" he finally asked.

Lettie strained to see the dim, dark line of fence made of logs notched into fence posts. "I see it."

"I'm going to claim another hundred thousand acres beyond it. That will give us a total of close to a million acres, all Fontaine land. I'm buying more beef out of Oregon and California. The market is growing every day, and I intend to be ready to meet the demand. That's all good grassland out there. With the buffalo being killed off the way they are, there's just that much more of it for my cattle."

Lettie tried to fathom so much land. She had never even ridden the full perimeter of the land they owned. She'd been too busy with raising the children to get fully involved in everything Luke was doing with the ranch, and sometimes she worried about what she would do if something happened to him. "Isn't that government land?"

Luke shrugged. "Some of it, but they'll never do anything with it. Lots of other ranchers use government land to graze their beef. It's mine for as long as it sits there not being used, and I intend to fence it in so others understand that. Some of it I'll try to buy from other homesteaders, and some of it I can claim legally."

Lettie sighed with worry. "Through David Taylor?"

Luke turned to look at her again. "Everybody does it, Lettie. The government doesn't understand how much land it takes to graze one steer."

"And the richest man out here is David Taylor. Henny said on her last visit he's building a huge house north of Billings."

Luke chuckled. "Who cares? A little bribery money up front means a lot more money down the road through the sale of prime beef. It's all legal, once it's on paper, with deeds, titles, all of that. Don't worry about it, Lettie. We've formed our own cattlemen's association to help protect ourselves, sent out invitations to the next meeting, which will be in a couple of weeks. We even invited that Englishman who bought all that land from the homesteaders southwest of Billings who lit out because of so much Indian trouble. I've never met him yet. Sounds like quite an interesting fellow."

He squinted to watch an eagle flying low over a distant butte. It suddenly dived and came up with something small dangling in its talons. "I'm not too crazy about foreigners coming here to buy land," he continued, "but what the hell? Civilization is civilization. We need people who will stay put, and he can afford to hire men to guard his land. He won't run like some of the smaller farmers have done, and if he intends to get into raising cattle, he might as well belong to our group. There's strength in numbers. We figure if we all join together, set some laws on how to deal with Indians, rustlers, and the like, figure how we'll deal with the government if they ever come knocking on our door, we'll be protected. No sense in all of us fighting against each other and trying to outdo each other. We'll all be better off if we get organized. We're even going to register our brands, have lists printed of ranch names, locations, and brands so everybody knows whose land is where, knows who stray cattle belong to by the brand they see on them. Keeps us from mixing someone else's cattle into our own herds."

"Sounds as if it could turn into quite a powerful organization."

"That's the whole idea. The more power, the more freedom we'll have to deal with rustlers and the like in our own way, the more clout we'll have with Congress, and the more strength we'll have in affecting territorial land laws. Someday Montana will be a state, and when it is, we intend to have laws in place that will protect men like me from being taxed out of business, protect my boundaries." He turned his horse. "Come on. We'd better get moving, or we won't reach that line shack by nightfall. You don't want to sleep out in the open tonight, do you?"

Lettie smiled. "Oh, I don't know. That might not be so bad."

Luke rode in front as they made their way along a narrow trail through scraggly rock formations. He drew up his horse when he reached a clearing just big enough for the two of them, then reached over and grasped the back of her neck. "What I have in mind, we wouldn't want to be out in the open where Ben could see and hear us," he told her with a wink. He leaned over and kissed her lips.

Lettie blushed, realizing Ben most certainly had to have seen the kiss. "Luke Fontaine! If that's the case, then you'd better save
everything
for inside the shack. Don't be kissing me in public!"

He laughed lightly. "Public? All there is to see us are rocks and pine trees, birds, and a few cattle. Ben is back there around the corner someplace."

He studied her with hunger in his blue eyes, and Lettie felt a tingle of desire. It had been years since they had done something like this, where they could be truly alone again. She loved her trips into Billings to visit and shop, and that was what he had suggested this time; but she had decided she wanted to do something different, go someplace where there were no people at all. It seemed strange to want that, after those first lonely years when she longed to see other faces. "What is the line shack like? Is it as bad as that first place we lived when we came here?"

Luke grinned. "Not quite that bad. I chose this one because I haven't had a man up in this area for several weeks, so I can check things out myself, and we can still have the cabin to ourselves when we get there. I might leave Ben there to keep guard for a few days. We've had trouble with wolves in this area."

Lettie shivered, remembering how the wolves had frightened her in the early years. They were still a danger to men out riding alone, and a menace to the cattle. "It's too bad we can't settle this land without disturbing the wild things," she said, gazing at distant mountains then. "Even the Indians."

Luke knew her thoughts had again turned to Nathan. "How about that women's group you told me about?" he asked, deciding to change the subject. "You got that sewing circle started yet?"

She smiled. "Yes. In fact, several of us are meeting in Billings in just two weeks, when you men get together for the cattlemen's meeting, so you'll have to get us a room at that new rooming house in town, or we could stay at Will and Henny's. I'll leave the children here with Anne and Billy, and please warn the men not to cuss in front of the children. We'll have to stay the night in town. By the time you finish with your meeting, it will probably be too late to get home from there before dark." She sighed longingly. "The next thing we need is a church. I do wish a preacher would come to Billings. I miss real church services, the singing, praying together. If there were as many churches in this territory as there are saloons, there wouldn't be such a dire need for organized law."

Luke chuckled, heading his horse even higher on the narrow path. "Why is it women think of churches and men think of guns and ropes?"

"Because women have more common sense and more compassion," Lettie answered teasingly. She breathed deeply of fresh air as they rode on for several minutes, each of them enjoying the peaceful afternoon. One thing she had to admit, Luke had chosen some of the prettiest country in America to call home. Never had she seen bluer skies, greener grass, more colorful rocks. The air smelled of sweet pine and wildflowers, clover and... She frowned, a little warning deep inside telling her something was wrong, but she couldn't quite place it. "I hope the children are all right."

"Why do you say that?"

Lettie looked around. "I don't know. I just have this funny feeling."

Luke led them to a shelflike clearing, then turned his horse, looking back along the pathway. Lettie saw the concern in his eyes then. "You, too?"

Lettie kept a tight hold of the reins of her horse. "What is it, Luke?"

Luke took his rifle from its boot and carefully scanned their surroundings, taking on the look of a suspicious wild animal. He seemed to be literally sniffing the air. "I don't know. I just realized Ben never caught up to us when we stopped that last time. We'd better go back and—"

The sentence was interrupted by a booming shot from somewhere above them, and in the same instant a bloody hole opened in Luke's right thigh, accompanied by a sickening cracking sound. Lettie screamed at the hideous sight and sound. Luke cried out with awful pain, and his horse jerked and whinnied, then fell. Luke rolled off and tumbled down the steep embankment to the left of the path they had been following. His horse lay still. Whatever had hit Luke had gone right through his leg and into the horse. Before Lettie could decide what to do about the horror she had just witnessed, another shot thundered from above, thudding into her horse's neck. Lettie gasped as the animal trembled and fell, whinnying in agony.