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"You've got a visitor, boss." Tex said, grinning. Luke could tell the man was about to laugh at the way the Englishman was dressed. Luke controlled his own urge to chuckle, and he could already guess Nial Bentley was backed by old money, probably came from some English family of wealth. Maybe he was a lord or had some other damn fancy title. Whatever the case, he was certainly a handsome man. Luke guessed him to be a little older than himself.
"Go get Mommy," he told Pearl.
The girl ran inside, and Luke nodded to Bentley. "Afternoon."
"Good day, sir!" the man answered, dismounting. He tied his horse at a hitching post and climbed the steps, putting out his hand. "I already know from your man here that you are Luke Fontaine," Nial said with his strong British accent. "I am Nial Bentley, as you have probably already guessed. I thought it was time we met, Mr. Fontaine, since my land borders yours to the south. Your wife invited me to come and tell you about the beef I plan to raise there. She thought you might be interested in buying a few head yourself."
Luke reached up and shook the man's hand, squeezing just enough to let Bentley know he'd better not underestimate him just because he was in a wheelchair. "I'm willing to listen," Luke answered. "But like most of the other ranchers around here, I doubt anything but the shorthorns we've been breeding around here for years can survive."
"Ah! And where did the shorthorn first come from? England!" Nial removed his hat and laid it on a nearby table. "They were bred with the sturdy Texas longhorns, and you ended up with some of the finest beef in the world. I'll wager you bought your first cattle out of Oregon?"
Luke shifted in his chair, wincing with pain. "I did. The last few years I've mostly been breeding my own."
"Yes, well, you started out with good stock. The shorthorns managed to survive being herded clear across the country when Oregon was first settled. They've proved their worth. You had great foresight to buy up all that you could back when there was a surplus in Oregon." He winked. "Little did those people know just how valuable that beef was going to be some day. Am I right?"
Luke nodded, wanting to like the man. He was amiable enough, and he certainly knew his cattle, and American history. Too bad he had an eye for Lettie. Maybe Will had just exaggerated. "You're right. You seem to know an awful lot about the subject, for a foreigner."
Bentley laughed. "Well, I don't feel like a foreigner. My family has owned property and businesses in America for years. I myself studied at Harvard, and I own quite a large cattle ranch in Wisconsin. My father is the one who could see there would be a demand for beef after your Civil War ended. He invested in this new breed, raises them in England. He had several hundred shipped to America a few years ago. I've been raising them in Wisconsin. I brought a few hundred into Montana this summer, but I've kept them close to the main house, so you probably didn't notice them when you herded your cattle over my land on the way to Cheyenne this past spring. At any rate, these cattle are worth much more on the hoof than shorthorns because of their weight. I already have a contract with Patterson's Meat Supply in Omaha. Perhaps your wife told you a buyer from Patterson's is coming here next spring to talk to you and the other cattlemen?"
Luke watched him carefully. "She told me."
Lettie came out then, and Luke noticed her stiffen slightly at the sight of Nial Bentley, who quickly rose in respect, his eyes lighting up with delight. Luke felt an irritating jealousy at the way the man looked at her. No man had looked at his wife that way since they'd been here in Montana. He knew the other ranchers and his own men couldn't help but see she was beautiful, but they showed her complete respect, as the woman who belonged to Luke Fontaine.
"Well, hello, Mr. Bentley. So, you accepted my invitation to pay Luke a visit. You should have warned us. I could have prepared a fancier supper than what I have already planned." Lettie walked to stand behind Luke, putting her hands on his shoulders.
Nial bowed slightly, wishing this flutter Lettie Fontaine created in his soul would go away. He was hoping that when he saw her again, dressed more plainly as she was today, caught off guard with her hair drawn back into a simple bun, perhaps she would be less beautiful. Perhaps he would feel completely different from the first time he met her, but nothing had changed. He struggled not to let his feelings show in front of Luke, who he could tell, even sitting in a wheelchair, was a formidable man, obviously tall, looking strong and rugged. He'd heard stories about men like Luke, and about Luke himself. He belonged to a breed of men who guarded their land and possessions to the death, and that surely included their women.
"I am delighted to see you again, Mrs. Fontaine." He looked down at Luke. "Your wife did a fine job the other day at the cattlemen's meeting."
"So I'm told."
Nial swallowed at the look in Luke's eyes. He knew! The man already knew what he was thinking! He made a point of not looking back at Lettie. "Well, you are a lucky man, Mr. Fontaine. And might I add, I am very sorry for your injury. I heard the story of the buffalo hunters."
"Probably from Will Doolan," Luke answered, reaching up and touching one of Lettie's hands. He grinned. "Will loves to tell tall tales."
Nial cleared his throat and sat back down. "Yes, well, I have a feeling it was not such a tall story. A person could write a book about the experiences you and your family have had since coming here."
Little Pearl came back out to stand beside her mother and stare at the oddly dressed visitor, and Paul toddled out after her, grasping his mother's skirts and wanting to be picked up. Lettie reached down and lifted him, introducing Pearl and him, then Katie, who also came out to have a look. Robbie and Ty ran by then, screaming and playing Indian. "Our other two sons," Lettie explained. "Tyler is the oldest boy. He's seven and Robert is four."
Nial caught the pride in her voice, saw it in Luke's eyes. "You have a fine family, Mr. Fontaine."
Their eyes held for a moment, and Luke nodded. "I think so."
Nial could see that having any feelings for Lettie Fontaine was hopeless. He put on a grin. "Well, about my cattle. They're called Herefords, and believe me, they carry more pounds of beef on the hoof than any shorthorn. They have very broad heads and big necks, huge chests and short legs. An eight-month-old steer can weigh well over six hundred pounds, maybe a thousand. I've known mature steers to reach close to two thousand pounds. They're a sturdy animal, I assure you, and resistant to disease."
"Can they survive a Montana winter?"
"The ones I brought with me did just fine last winter."
"We've had winters that were a lot worse than last year's."
Nial leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I'll make a deal with you. Buy five hundred head from me, and if they don't make the next winter or don't breed well, I will refund your money. I'll sell you three bulls and several cows so you'll have some breeding stock. The rest will be young steers, money in the bank for you when they're grown and fattened. I have a lot more cows, but I need them for my own breeding purposes. I'll let you have all five hundred for eighty cents a head. That is very cheap compared to what you'll get for the steers later on, probably at least six to eight dollars a head."
Luke took a thin cigar from his shirt pocket, along with a match. He lit the smoke, looking out at some of his own cattle grazing below as he took a few puffs before replying. "Why are you so anxious to help the rest of us? We're your competition."
"We're all part of the Cattlemen's Association now, all here to help each other, are we not? Besides, I don't really own the cattle on any of my ranches, Mr. Fontaine. I only own the land itself. My father and several others formed a company back in England that invests in American cattle. They foresaw the profit that could be made in this industry. I came here to manage those investments and find a market for the Herefords. My father's company strongly believes in the breed and I am here to promote them and find new buyers."
"All right, Bentley. Lettie and Will both already told me a lot about this new breed. I'll give them a try, but I'll pay you h
alf their worth. I'll give you the rest after they've proven themselves." He looked back at the Englishman. "For all I know you could hightail it back to England and I'd never see you or my money again. The damn cattle could die off on me over the next winter, and I'd be out four hundred dollars."
Bentley smiled. "Agreed. Half up front. But I assure you, I am here to stay, Mr. Fontaine. I promised my father I'd find a big market out here for him, and I do love this land. It's so beautiful. Everything is so big and spectacular! I'm not sure I could ever go back to England!"
"We love it here, too, Mr. Bentley," Lettie put in. "That's why we've never left, in spite of the bad times. There have also been a lot of good times."
Nial glanced at her again, wishing she hadn't spoken so he wouldn't have to look her way. How could a woman who had lived out here for so long and borne six children look like she did? Did she often think of her firstborn? He'd heard the woman actually thought the boy might still be alive. He supposed any mother would have to think that or go crazy.
"Would you like something to drink, Mr. Bentley?" she was asking. "Coffee? A little whiskey, perhaps?"
"Actually, I would love some tea. Would you have any?"
Lettie smiled. "Of course. I'll go heat the water." She went back inside, wondering if Luke noticed how Bentley looked at her. Bentley seemed to be on better behavior today, thank God. She was glad Luke was trying out the new breed of cattle, but she would be glad when Nial Bentley was gone. She hoped he didn't intend to visit too often. It made her much too uncomfortable.
Luke and Nial talked for another hour. Lettie served the tea, bringing a shot of whiskey to Luke, then stayed inside the house, away from Nial Bentley's roving eyes. She noticed Luke seemed wary of the man, gave him a few helpful hints on ranching in Montana but not offering a lot of details. She noticed he did not mention his plans to contract with the army. That was one deal he wanted for himself.
Finally Bentley rose and shook Luke's hand. "I'd better be off. Some of my men have made camp a few miles from here. We'll sleep under the stars tonight—too long a ride from here to my place to make it before dark."
"Aren't you a little uncomfortable in those clothes?" Lettie heard Luke ask him. She stifled a laugh as she came to the door to bid Nial Bentley good-bye.
"Oh, not at all, I assure you. I do have clothes more fitting to this kind of living. I only dress this way when I am visiting or going to an important meeting."
"Well, you don't need to dress fancy to come visiting here," Luke told him, shaking his hand.
Lettie came out then, carrying Paul, who was always begging to be picked up. "Good-bye, Mr. Bentley."
"Please, both of you call me Nial," the man answered, his eyes quickly moving over her before he bowed again. "It was so pleasant meeting you again, Mrs. Fontaine."
"Lettie," she answered. "Just Luke and Lettie."
Lettie, Nial thought. My beautiful Lettie. Such a strong, handsome, loving husband you have. If only I could woo you away from him. He donned his hat then, nodding to Luke again. "Well, then, Luke, I'll have my men bring over a couple of my best Herefords for you to see, and I'll send word to the overseer of my ranch in Wisconsin that you are willing to try them out. Next summer he'll ship five hundred of our best to the Double L, and you can start building from there. You won't regret it, Luke. Wait until you see how big the steers get after castration."
"Well, I always have my own shorthorns to fall back on if it doesn't work out. I might even try breeding the shorthorns with the Herefords."
Bentley brushed at his suit. "Sir, I guarantee that in a few years you'll be breeding nothing but Herefords." He nodded once more. "I'm off. I do pray that leg will heal much more quickly than the doctor thinks. When you can ride again, do come and pay a visit to Essex Manor. Feel free to bring the missus. She is quite a wonderful woman. You must be very proud to have a wife who is so intelligent and supportive to stand up for the Double L as she did at the cattlemen's meeting." He turned and walked off the porch, mounted up on his fine black horse, and gave another wave before finally riding off.
Lettie set Paul down. He toddled to the steps, then sat to scoot down them, then grabbed fists full of dirt from the driveway and threw them into the air, letting it blow back into his hair. Lettie pulled up the chair Bentley had used beside Luke and sat down. "Quite a character, isn't he?"
Luke smoked quietly, watching Nial Bentley ride through the gate. "Who? Paul? Or were you referring to Nial Bentley?"
Lettie caught the irritation in his voice. "Are you all right, Luke? You never put your jacket on. It's getting chilly."
Luke met her eyes then, a teasing smile on his face. "You are a hell of a woman, you know."
Lettie reddened, looking at her lap. "I can't help how the silly man looks at me, Luke. In fact, when I got the chance, I set him straight at the cattlemen's meeting. I told him that being a married woman, I did not appreciate him staring at me. He was quite apologetic and quite the gentleman after that. I don't think he means any harm."
Luke reached over and grasped her hand. "Why didn't you say something when you came home from the meeting?
She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess because I wanted so much for you to see about those Herefords. I was afraid if I made you dislike the man before you even met him, you wouldn't consider trying the new breed. What's good for the ranch comes above everything else."
"Lettie."
He squeezed her hand. When she met his eyes, she saw the love there, but also the stern look of a man who sets his own rules.
"Not when it comes to you and me and the kids. All of that always comes first. We said once that we'd tell each other everything, remember?"
She leaned forward and kissed him lightly. "I love you, Luke."
He closed his eyes and groaned. "Then don't kiss me. It's too hard on me, wanting you and being laid up like this. We're going to have to figure something out pretty soon, or I'll go crazy."
Lettie smiled. "Then think about other things, like breeding a new strain of cattle, and letting me send for that mine owner from Denver."
"I don't want any damn mining company coming in here and tearing up my land."
"He promises not to disturb the land any more than necessary. Luke, we've had enough hard times to know we can't just count on the cattle. We have to have something to fall back on in case of disease or drought. It can't hurt to let him see what's out there."
Luke sighed deeply. "You drive a hard bargain, woman." He gave her a wink. "Go ahead and send for him. I'm only doing it because if he finds anything valuable out there, I can build you that house that much quicker."
"I don't need the house, Luke—"
"Yes, you do, and a lot more. I promised you a big house and a tutor and maids and fine furniture—the works. You'll have it. This family has outgrown this place anyway. The girls should each have their own room, and Ty and Robbie shouldn't have to share a room with Paul. He is constantly getting into their things."
Lettie laughed. "He is a wild little thing. Sometimes he reminds me so much of—" Her smile faded. She turned then and ran to pick Paul up when he started toddling off toward some horses tied near the barn.
Luke watched her, still wrestling with whether he should tell her what he thought he had seen that morning he was found. Even if Nathan was alive, the little four-year-old boy who had been torn from his mother's arms was gone forever. Luke would never get over the guilt he felt for being partly responsible. Maybe that was what had stirred this fierce possessiveness he felt when he saw how Nial Bentley looked at her, his own fear of someday losing her because she might blame him, deep inside, for losing Nathan. That was why he had to keep all the rest of his promises, build her that big house, cater to her whims. He'd let the miner from Denver come out because it was what Lettie wanted, and he'd vowed a long time ago that whatever Lettie wanted, Lettie would get.
CHAPTER 15
As soon as Luke walked into the spring dance, a crowd of well-wishers surround
ed him and Lettie. They made such a fuss over the fact that Luke was on his feet again that he was embarrassed suddenly to be the center of attention. Even though he had to use crutches and still felt pain, it was good to stand tall again, to be among his friends, to get out of the house. He shook a sea of hands, and the wives of ranchers and townspeople hugged Lettie at the same time, the women exclaiming over Lettie's wardrobe. She had worn a muslin dress printed in a paisley pattern of yellow and white, the bodice made of handkerchief linen, the long sleeves bearing ruffles at the cuffs in the yellow paisley design. The same design ran through the ruffles at her waist, down the front of the bodice, and in the four tiers of ruffles that graced the full skirt. The straw bonnet she wore was decorated with yellow ribbon and flowers. The bright color only accented her dark auburn hair and green eyes.
"You look like spring yourself!" Henny told her. "How do you always manage to look so beautiful, Lettie?"
"It's because her handsome husband is alive and back on his feet," Henry Kline's wife, Lucy, said. "She's glowing with love, that's what."
The women all laughed, and Lettie glanced at Luke. Yes, he certainly did look handsome this evening. He had worn a black suit, with a blue shirt and black tie. The shirt accented the color of his eyes. The clothes were just some of those made for them over the winter by an Italian tailor who had come to town last summer. Luke had insisted on paying for a whole new wardrobe for her, but getting him to let Gino Galardo measure him for a suit of his own had been like pulling teeth. She had had Tex bring Gino to the ranch, literally ordering Luke to allow the man to measure him, reminding Luke he dearly needed a new suit.
The heavy wrapping and brace were off Luke's leg now, and he only wore a firm wrap of gauze for support. Over the winter she'd had to cut the right leg out of several pair of his pants, and she had already talked with the owner of the town's only general store, Syd Martin, about ordering new denim pants for him to replace the ruined ones.