Bittner, Rosanne (5 page)

Her cheeks grew hot as he approached. Why did he have to look so handsome tonight? Something stirred deep within her at the sight of his snug-fitting black pants, his broad shoulders, his handsome face with its high cheekbones and full lips and provocative blue eyes. His thick, dark hair was slicked back. She felt an aura of power and masculinity as he came to stand before her. "Will you dance with me?" he asked.

Lettie looked down, and her brother gave her a nudge. "Go ahead, sis." He grinned at Luke. He liked the man, wished he wouldn't be leaving them tomorrow. Little Nathan toddled up to Luke and tugged at his pants. James leaned down and picked him up. "You leave Luke and your mommy alone," he ordered. "They're going to dance."

Lettie didn't know how to say no, nor did she get the chance. A big, strong hand was quickly folded around her own, and she was being led into the circle of dancers. Another strong hand was pressed against her back then, and in the next moment she was whirling around to the music.

"Lettie, look up at me."

She didn't dare, did she? If she looked into his eyes, so close to him as she was now, his strong hand squeezing her own, she wouldn't be able to think straight. She wouldn't be able to do what she knew was right.

"Lettie."

She raised her eyes to meet his gaze, and a wonderful warmth flooded through her.

"I love you, and if you try to say you don't love me, you're a liar."

She swallowed back tears. How could he possibly love her? "Sometimes love isn't enough."

"It's all a man and woman need."

"Luke, I've tried to do this the easy way."

"By avoiding the truth?"

"You know what I mean. The less we see of each other, the less hurt there will be. Tomorrow we'll go our separate ways. In time we'll both—"

She was unable to finish the sentence. He was suddenly whisking her away from the others into the dusky darkness, a firm arm around her waist. Not wanting to cause a scene, she didn't protest. She sensed that even if she kicked and screamed, he was going to take her off and have his say.

They were away from the light of the fire now, behind a wagon, a soft, evening breeze cool against her hot cheeks, just strong enough to keep the mosquitoes away. There was a warm, sweet smell to the air. The sun was fast setting, and a full moon was trying to make an appearance. Just as she was about to speak, Luke pulled her tight against him, lifted her off her feet, found her mouth in a warm, delicious kiss, a prolonged kiss that put a large crack in her stubborn will to deny him. Lettie found herself returning the kiss with unbridled passion, amazed that this second kiss was as wonderful and provocative as the first one had been; to know that again, this man had awakened something in her she was afraid had been lost forever; to know she really could want a man.

Then the alarm set in. There was much more to what a man wanted than kissing, and here was a man who deserved much better than Lettie MacBride. She turned her face away. He continued kissing her cheek, her neck. "Stop it, Luke!" she said with a small whimper.

"Why? Because you think you've been somehow tainted? Because you think this is wrong just because of what happened to you?"

"It is wrong! Tomorrow you'll go your way and we'll go ours, and everything will be much easier for both of us if we just let it go at that."

"Will it?" Luke slowly set her on her feet, enjoying the feel of her breasts against his chest as she slid down his body. "I don't think so, Lettie. I think both of us will suffer for a long time, missing each other, wondering if we did the right thing after all, for us and for Nathan. Marry me, Lettie. You know I've been wanting to ask you for the longest time. Come with me tomorrow. I'll be the proper gentleman all the way to Fort Laramie. I hear they have preachers and priests there. That's where we'll marry. If for some reason we're sure by then that it's wrong, I'll see you get full escort back into Colorado to find your parents in Denver. Otherwise, we'll go on into Montana from there. But even then, I swear I won't touch you until you want to be touched."

Lettie closed her eyes. She put a hand to her forehead, turning away. "How can you talk about being a proper gentleman around me? You obviously don't need to be."

"Don't say things like that. What happened to you was no more your fault than if you had been shot that night."

"I wish I had been." Her voice broke on the words, and she took a step away from him. "Except for Nathan." She sniffed and drew in her breath to stay in control of herself. "Back in St. Joseph, our minister told me Nathan is a gift from God, in spite of how he was conceived. I've had to convince myself of that, or hate him. He's such a sweet, joyful little boy, and to him I'm just Mommy. How can I not love him?"

Luke watched her, his eyes full of compassion. "That's just one of the reasons I love you, Lettie. You're a woman of great courage, and with a tremendous capacity to love."

"I'm not all that courageous. Part of the reason we left St. Joseph is because I couldn't bear the stares and whispers any longer. No man wanted me as a wife. The couple of men who did try to court me soon showed their true colors. They figured
since
I kept the baby, I must not have minded the rape. Maybe I enjoyed it. Maybe I'd enjoy it again."

The words were spoken with deep bitterness, her fists and teeth clenched. "But it's just the opposite. I've hated the thought of being with a man,
any
man! You all think I enjoyed being raped. Well, I didn't, do you understand? I
hated
it! It was painful and ugly and humiliating. I vomited!

I screamed and I fought and I vomited, and don't think that just because I kissed you, that I'm some kind of loose woman who—"

He grasped her arms, jerking her around. "You're the woman I love and want to marry. Would I feel this way if I thought that of you? I won't have anyone thinking that of you, nor do I think it! And I won't have
you
think of
yourself
that way, either! In your heart and soul, and in my eyes, you're as pure and untouched as before any of that happened."

Lettie stared at him, shivering. Then she crumbled, collapsing against his chest, savoring the feel of his strong arms around her, the luxury of being truly loved and respected, the way she would have wanted any man she would marry to feel about her, something she never thought she would find again.

Luke let her cry for a few minutes, rubbing her back. "Tell me how it happened, Lettie. Get it out in the open."

Lettie forced herself to have courage, deciding he might as well know. "I ran to the barn that night," she sobbed. "Father tried to stop me... but I had a horse that was... precious to me. I saw men going into the barn. I knew they were going to steal Dancer, and I... thought I could stop them. They were... carrying torches. One of them... a man with white-blond hair... had Dancer by the reins. I... tried to grab the horse away from him... but he just grabbed me, laughing. He pushed me into the hay... and the others... held me down."

She cringed, feeling ill at the ugly memory that was as vivid today as three years ago. "When I first went out there, I wasn't afraid... because I thought all they might do was hit me or something, and I didn't care. I wanted to save Dancer. I didn't know anything about men... and I never even thought of myself as a woman men would desire that way." She shivered in another sob. "When the blond one finished with me, he took Dancer anyway... but I lost much more than my horse that night."

Luke's arms enfolded her even more firmly, and she felt a great comfort, a serene feeling of safety and warmth nestled there against him. There came another torrent of tears as she clung to his ruffled shirt, and he let her cry for several minutes, stroking her hair, kissing it.

"He never really touched you, Lettie, don't you see? If a woman doesn't want to be touched that way, then she's not done one thing wrong, and nothing the man does can hurt her or change her. If he was here today, I'd kill him; but there's nothing that can be done about it now except to go on. Let me erase the memories, Lettie. I promise you I can do it."

He pulled away slightly, studied her face. It was nearly dark, but he could see her in the dim light of dusk, ached at the sight of the tears on her cheeks. He took a clean handkerchief from an inside pocket of his suit jacket and handed it to her. "Tell me you don't love me, Lettie. Tell me there isn't a part of you that wants me. Tell me you won't miss me and ache for me if we part ways tomorrow."

She wiped at her tears and nose, watching his eyes. Why should she fear this man who had shown himself to be everything any woman would want? Why should she not accept the love he offered? "I
would
miss you, Luke. I'm afraid to leave my family, afraid to go to a place like Montana; but I'm more afraid of going on without you. I was so determined I'd tell you I won't marry you, that we should part tomorrow, but I can't. I... I just want you to be sure that what happened to me doesn't bother you. You deserve the best, Luke."

He shook his head. "You're the one who deserves the best. Do you think I don't have my own reservations about being a good husband? Maybe you're the one who's not getting what she deserves. You've had a good life, Lettie. It's going to be rough for us at first, dangerous, lonely. There won't be any of the comforts you're used to. Besides that..." He sighed, pain in his eyes. "Don't be worrying about being worthy of me, Lettie. I guess it's only fair that you know the truth about what brought me out here. You might change your mind after all." He let go of her, a strange fear in his eyes.

"What is it, Luke? Is it something about your father?"

It was almost fully dark now, but the full moon was rising higher, looking huge and appearing to be sitting on the rim of the eastern horizon. "My father doesn't believe I'm his son. He says I'm a bastard."

Lettie blinked in surprise. "Luke, that's terrible! Why would he tell you a thing like that?"

He came closer again. "Because he believes it's true and never wanted me to share in any family inheritance. He told me when I was fourteen. I had broken something expensive in one of his supply stores, and in a fit of rage he told me." He swallowed, turning away again. "I felt as though somebody had shoved a knife into my gut. Later on he took me aside, told me he believed my mother had had an affair. She died when I was four, so I have no way of knowing the truth. I only remember her as a sweet, gentle, loving woman. I do know I don't look like my father the way my brother does." He rubbed at his eyes. "When he told me, I understood a lot of things, like why my father never kept pictures of my mother in the house, why he never showed me the love he showed my brother. Still, I stayed on, worked for him. I was young and confused, not sure what to do. He was the only father I knew. Then a year ago he told me he had cut me out of his will. He was getting older and figured I should know beforehand. He wanted to be sure I didn't give my brother, his
real
son, a court fight after he died. He gave me money—a payoff, I guess you'd call it," he continued bitterly. "He more or less told me to take the money and leave, that in good conscience and in fairness to my brother, he couldn't see letting me inherit any part of the family business and family fortune he had worked so hard to build."

Lettie could feel his pain. "Luke, I'm sorry. What a terrible thing for a father to do."

He breathed deeply, as though to stay in control of his emotions. "Maybe now you understand how I feel about Nathan," he said, his voice strained. "I know how it feels to be an outcast. And I know how it feels to be unloved, to be raised by a man, call him father, then find out he practically hates your guts." He turned to face her, and Lettie didn't need full light to know there were tears in his eyes. "I would never do that to Nathan, Lettie. We'll tell him his real father was killed in a raid. He'll know I'm his step-father, but I'll love him just as much as if my own blood ran in his veins. He'll feel that love, be as close to me as he would to any real father. Whatever I build in Montana, however wealthy I might become, he will share in it equally with whatever children we have together. I promise you that."

Lettie smiled through tears. "I believe you, and I love you for it." She walked closer and touched his arm. "Luke, I think your father was wrong, terribly wrong. And any woman who could produce such a fine and handsome man as you couldn't have been bad. I'll bet she was very beautiful, too."

Luke pulled her close. "My father didn't give me a lot, but it's enough to get started on. I intend to show him
and
my brother that I can do as well or better. I don't need his damn inheritance." He kissed her hair. "Lettie, it won't be easy at first, but I promise you that someday, you'll live like a queen. I'll make that happen, no matter what it takes. Whatever you have to suffer at first, I'll make up for it a hundred times. Some day we'll have lots more children, and you'll be living in a fine home, the wife of one of the biggest landowners in Montana!"

He let go of her then, taking hold of her hands instead. "They've already found gold up there, Lettie, but that's not what I'm after. It's the
land—lots
of it—for free if I homestead it. Some don't think that's worth anything right now, but I think they're wrong. Who knows what kind of minerals are under what I'll claim? And on top of the ground there's rich grass for grazing. Hell, they've already started building a railroad that's going to connect California with the East! Once that's done, more settlers will come, especially when the war is over. People who have lost everything will want to start over someplace new, build farms, ranches. I'm going to have a head start on them! Word is, once the railroad comes this way, there will be a big demand for beef, because it will be easier to ship it east. The railroad is coming through Colorado or Wyoming, so I wouldn't have to herd my beef near as far as the ranchers down in Texas will; and I'll have all that rich grass to fatten them up on. The
land
is the real gold mine, Lettie. There's an Indian problem, but the army will take care of that once the war is over. The Sioux will have to make way for settlement just like other Indians all over the plains have had to do. It's the way of progress, Lettie, and we'll be right there in the middle of it!"